护士奶头又大又软又好摸

"Hahah! We’ve got them men! Keep pushing forward!" The captains called to their crew, ever so delighted with this turn of events. They would be rich men if they managed to sink this black ship – there was indeed a sizeable bounty on its head.

They loaded the matchlock rifles that they were so proud of, and began to send volleys toward their deck. Yet no one was above deck by now. The Red Feather crew were all on the lower deck, gathered around the cannon.

"Mm, which one should we go for first?" Morohira wondered. It was him who would get the honour of shooting it, but it did not matter who chose the target.

"The one nearest to us. If we allow it to keep coming, it might even cause problems, since we have to reload and all, don’t we?" Togashi suggested. Their reload speed would be extremely quick, what with the number of men they had on a single cannon, but still it was better not to get caught off guard. It would be rather embarrassing if they fell after thinking themselves to be so high and mighty.

"Come on, they’re getting closer! Just fire already." Rin said, sick of all the messing about. The sh.i.p.s were getting ever closer and all they were doing was talking.

"Heheh, alright – here we go!" Morohira pressed the lit candle – at least, that’s what they referred to it as, it was more just a greenwood stick wrapped in cloth and drenched in oil at one end – to the end of the barrel, making contact with the gunpowder. Before it even touched, they had their hands over their ears, and their captain struggled to do that same, though he only had one in which he could use.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

The beautiful sound of cannon fire. Many a European man in the port area had their ears twitch in surprise. It was not a sound they thought they would hear in this more barbaric land, but it was certainly one they were familiar with.

"What’s that?" One of the European traders asked another, as they looked in the direction of the sound.

"Cannon fire, innit? Haven’t heard that in ages... Still looks like whoever it was missed – all those little sh.i.p.s are still standing."

It was of no surprise to them to see that the shot had been ineffectual. They would not count on the Japanese to be able to wield the cannons to their kind of standards.

"Ah... Think you might be wrong there, my boy. The middle ones about to go under, see?"

The flooding of the ship was usually an exponential process. At first, it was difficult to tell whether it was going down, as only a few litres of water managed to make its way inside. But soon that amount of water grew, pulling the ship further down, allowing even more water to shoot inside.

"Hoh! First shot, and I’ve already blown them apart, eh? I didn’t realize I had such a gift for cannoneering." Morohira stated proudly, admiring his handy work.

"I think it is more thanks to Takeshi than you..." Ii muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Whenever he was challenged by one of the stronger men, he was rather quick to back down.

"Alright, next! We’ll get this thing loaded."

He started to shove fistfuls of gunpowder down into the barrel, as Sasaki stooped low to secure a ball. Really, two people were all that was needed to adjust it quite quickly. But still, after the ball slid down the barrel, Togashi pushed the cannon forward into the ready position, whilst Rokkaku directed it towards the next target, so in truth, it was quicker than it might be.

"Second shot, captain." Togashi declared.

"Right you are."

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And another shot thundered from the barrel. This time, the captain attempted not to flinch too heavy, so that he could watch the cannonball as it flew through the air. It arced a bit too low, and looked as though it might miss, but by some luck it dragged it’s way through the softwood of the boat’s side, exposing multiple oarsmen and snapping oars like twigs. A lucky few died on impact – the rest were left to drown with their ship.

"By the gods..." Sasaki whispered, shaking his head at the sight of the immense destruction they had caused. Within the waves, fear-stricken men clung to rafts of shattered wood. Such pieces could be found everywhere, as the waves carried them back and forth. Some sported horrific injuries. A man lay dying atop one such abused wooden pieces. A shard of wood – that had splintered from the impact – now lay in his throat, and he gargled horrifically, attempting to breath, as more and more blood came up in his mouth, and crept from his wound.

His crewmates were forced to watch, as they clung to that wooden piece in desperation. All they could do was avert their eyes, and offer silent apologies to their companion for being unable to help him. They were frightened. How could they not be? They were unable to swim, and were stuck miles away from shore. The only thing keeping them afloat was this piece of wood. But what happens if it were to flip over? What happens when they tired? Would they even be able to make it back to shore at all?

The remaining four sh.i.p.s were almost as psychologically abused as the two fallen. They froze under the weight of their fear. At any moment, and any point, it could be them. A single round of demonic fire, and they would be sent into the dark waters to join their friends.

"C-captain... Please... Please retreat." One of the crewmembers begged. He could not handle it. They were too hopelessly outmatched. Perhaps they could charge forward in some kind of suicidal attempt, but what would they achieve? That black ship was far faster than theirs. His bladder loosened as he spoke. It was as though he was trapped inside one of the terrors that haunted his dreams as a child, only terrifyingly, there was no waking up from this.

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But his captain was unable to answer his plea. With his eyes wide open, that unfortunate crewmember was forced to burn a horrific sight into his eyes. And why was it that it went so slowly? It was as though the whole world was passing by frame by frame. He saw the fear in his captain’s eyes, as he was seriously considering his request. But milliseconds later, there was a cannonball beside his head.

And then, his head was a cannonball. Chunks of flesh and bone flew outwards, coating the man’s cheeks and face. Scraps of skin landed on his shoulder – the skin of his own captain. And then, the cannonball passed by, leaving a headless man to respond to his question, before it crashed into the top of the deck.

When he saw that headless corpse collapse to his knees, he did the same. From the intensity of the fear that he was feeling, his own heart stopped, and he died but a moment later.

"Wow Rokkaku, that was shit." Morohira commented, seeing the cannonball go far too high, and only dealing damage to the upper deck.

"Shit? Shit? I’m a rare talent, Morohira. Did you not see who this cannonball hit? That was the bloody captain. I’d like to see you replicate such a shot." He rebuked heartily. This really was just a game to them. They had seen the battlefield thousands of times. They had witnessed innumerable men die. There was no regret or guilt. Not anymore.

Within that small lower deck, the air was tainted with the poignant smell of charred gunpowder. It was not entirely unpleasant, though it was rather overwhelming. Seeing a few of them going about bickering and monopoloising use of the cannon, there was naught the rest could do but watch. That, in itself, was not such a bad thing, but Rin liked to feel involved.

"Dad, I want to do somethinggg." She complained.

"Ehhhhh..." It was quite the dilemma for him. Whilst he was busy behaving like a child, his own child was growing bored behind him.

"...Fine, you can fire it next time." He said reluctantly.

"Wait, look! They’re retreating." Togashi noted. It was all very well enjoying the vast superiority of their military might, but if the enemy were to run away, then they could still be troublesome in future.

It was true. On the horizon, four sh.i.p.s began to row away with urgency, leaving their drowning crewmates behind, as they cried – no, begged – for help.

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Morohira let one shot off quickly, as the adrenaline started to pump once more. This time, that battered fourth ship was sunken for good.

"Prepare the sails! We’re not letting these sc.u.mbags get away."

Finally, the time had come to utilise the entirety of their crew. They once more reloaded the cannon, as Il, Akiko and Rin went above deck, and adjusted the sails so they could utilise the full force of the wind.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Yet another shot was fired. When they wanted it to be, the fire rate was amazingly fast, especially if you took into account that a single shot was all that was required to sink a ship.

And another cannonball landed, crushing it’s way through the rear of the retreating ship, the force of the impact bending wood, and sending men crashing overboard. Their chances of survival were mightily slim.

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Another.

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And another.

Just like that, with the same ease as plucking a few weeds from a garden, all four of those retreating sh.i.p.s had holes punctured in their sides, or their back. It was a mere matter of time now, and all they had to do was watch, as they slowly sank down into the water.

They were growing nearer the port, so perhaps the men dared to hope that they would be able to make it back to dry land. But that was naively optimistic. The more water that entered, the faster water would enter in future. Their chances were nill, and one by one, the guard’s sh.i.p.s disappeared under the waves – relics of an unfairly one-sided victory. Unfortunate indeed.