"If you come again, I'll send you all to the Western Paradise."
Seeing these missiles re-approaching them, Zhao Feng's eyes turned cold, and with a thought, crimson spiritual power surged from within him, wrapping each of the "Gadfly" missiles, ready to send them back.
"Wait, Brother Zhao Feng, these ships have quite a few native mortals on them. To us, they're all nourishment."
Hou Tong, with his pointy mouth and cheeks like a monkey's, grinned and said.
"Brother Hou Tong is right. Let's give them as a gift to those small boats and the ants beneath the water."
Zhao Feng's gaze shifted to the landing ships and missile boats surrounding the destroyers and frigates. Then, with a chuckle, he glanced at the water below and spoke.
Swoosh!
