Dusk enveloped everything.
The grand fleet had sailed smoothly through the First Circulation Zone for the past two days and continued its journey southward without rest.
But within the captain's quarters of the Fourth-rate Ship "Support," lights were brightly shining.
Only Major General Elsie Newman, the Fleet Commander, and the summoned Byron sat facing each other across a dining table.
"Come, Captain Byron, try this bottle of Captain Morgan's rum from the Banta'an Archipelago. See if it suits your taste. Truth be told, when it comes to rum, nothing's quite as authentic as that from its place of origin, Banta'an."
Seeing a middle-sequence Major General pouring wine for himself, Byron, who seemed like nothing more than a small-time pirate bold in battle but inexperienced in the ways of the world, immediately stood up, flustered by the attention.
