Although Selkirk had changed into a fresh set of clothes, he still looked somewhat disheveled. Apart from the scars left by Barbarossa when subduing him, he now bore conspicuous burn marks on his face. Upon hearing Felton's blunt question, Selkirk's eye twitched slightly as he glanced at William.
William gave Selkirk a meaningful look before smiling warmly at Felton. "I've spoken with Selkirk. He has agreed to join the Morgan Pirates."
Selkirk nodded in acknowledgment toward Harden, Klo, and the others, who responded with polite gestures in return. Felton, however, ignored Selkirk entirely, muttering under his breath, "Another damn rookie."
His voice was so low that only he could hear it in the room.
Ship doctor Wood, along with Hatcheson and Harden, took their wine glasses from William and found seats to settle into, much like Felton. Meanwhile, Diego, Klo, and Selkirk remained standing behind the seated officers, whispering quietly among themselves.
This particular meeting in the captain's cabin wasn't specifically about Felton, nor was it an attempt to assign blame. William genuinely had important matters to discuss with his officers. Of course, given William's personality, it was more of a briefing, with him delegating tasks and letting his subordinates refine the details. However, for those who had endured life under Barbarossa's rule, even this semblance of consultation was a significant improvement.
"I think the incident in Kalmar City taught us a valuable lesson," William began, leaning lazily against the wide chair behind his desk, his expression relaxed. "Random and unplanned raids like before don't do much to help us grow."
His relaxed demeanor seemed to influence the others in the room. Hatcheson, after taking a large swig of his wine, asked curiously, "Didn't we always have plans and clear targets for our raids?"
As an experienced pirate, Hatcheson had long suspected that the crew's targets weren't chosen randomly. He had even speculated that Barbarossa had connections with certain factions on land. The events in Kalmar City—where their ship's captain's quarters were ransacked, their treasure map stolen, and their ship damaged, forcing Barbarossa to seek help from Arcadio—had essentially confirmed these suspicions.
Everyone in the room knew that their past raids had often been prearranged, unlike other pirate crews that wandered aimlessly across the seas in search of prey.
"I'm talking about our own plans," William clarified. "Running around to hit targets prearranged by our so-called 'partners' might be safer and easier, but it doesn't do much for our long-term development. And piling up treasure in some rundown hideout to gather dust? Even without this recent robbery, it's a stupid strategy."
Felton sneered. "And where would you put it? In a bank? Do you think they'd take it? Even if they did, I wouldn't trust them. We're pirates! Our income is illegal. Those bloodsucking merchants would love to work with the government to 'legally' swallow our money. That would be even less secure."
William wagged his finger. "It's not time to talk about banks yet. What I mean is that we should invest some of the spoils we get from our raids into businesses. Start some ventures. I've got connections on land, so you don't need to worry about how to set them up."
Felton shook his head vigorously, showing his disapproval without hesitation. The others in the room also looked skeptical. After all, they were pirates. Wood might have read a few books as a doctor, but he knew nothing about running a business. For the rest, venturing into such an unfamiliar field felt daunting. Even pirates, known for their love of adventure, tended to be cautious when stepping into the unknown—especially when it involved risking their hard-earned, blood-soaked loot.
Only Klo's eyes lit up with excitement. He straightened in his seat, staring at William in surprise.
"What if no one on the ship knows how to handle this kind of thing? What if we get scammed? What if we lose money?" Harden asked hesitantly.
"What if?" William smiled and countered with a question of his own. "If someone dares to scam us, we'll hunt them down and flay them alive. As for losing money—why would we lose money?"
"Business relies on maritime trade, and we're one of the largest pirate crews in the East Blue. Who could compete with us? Are your blades made of paper? We're willing to raid ships and pillage villages for strangers, but when it comes to our own business, you're telling me we wouldn't dare take action?"
William's words were sharp and to the point. In his previous life, he had studied the rise of various historical trading companies, like the infamous East India Companies. These corporations hadn't thrived because of advanced technology or superior products; their success stemmed from sheer military might, which they used to monopolize trade.
While William had no intention of dealing in drugs or slaves, he wasn't exactly a saint. The accumulation of capital was always a bloody process. Even in his previous world, where modern laws supposedly ensured fair competition, businesses often resorted to underhanded tactics. In earlier times, competition was resolved with bullets and bayonets.
The Morgan Pirates might not have the backing of a nation like the East India Companies did, but the principle was the same: use force to protect trade and use trade to sustain and grow their force.
The others in the room might still have their doubts now, but William was confident that once they started reaping the benefits, they would fully embrace the idea. He knew exactly how quickly and ferociously this beast of a plan could grow.
"Additionally," William continued, swirling his wine glass, "this would allow us to provide for our crew. In our line of work, injuries are inevitable. If someone dies, that's the end of it. But what about those who are left disabled or can't fight anymore? And what about when our crew members grow old? If we establish some businesses, we can give them a place to go."
Felton snorted sarcastically. "You're really thinking far ahead, planning for retirement and all."
The others, however, didn't share Felton's mocking tone. They seemed deep in thought. Wood, in particular, appeared contemplative. As one of the older members of the crew, and not particularly skilled in combat, William's words resonated with him.
Unbeknownst to him, Wood was starting to feel a growing respect for William. Adjusting his posture, he looked at the young captain, eager to hear what other ideas he might have.
William took a slow sip of his wine before speaking again, his tone calm and composed. "There's one more thing I need to address—something about the crew."
He suddenly turned to Felton, who had been the most vocal opponent throughout the discussion. With an expressionless face, William asked, "I've heard that you've been recruiting people on the ship lately. Are you dissatisfied with me? Planning to rebel against my authority?"
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