An hour had passed, at the center of the small island, a large crowd of slaves had gathered. Their clothes were nothing more than tattered rags. Their waxen, yellowed faces were marked by hollow, numb eyes.
Weston stood at the front, holding a large bullhorn in his hand.
“Everyone,” favonovel.com began, his voice steady but solemn, “I want to make an official promise… And offer a sincere apology!”
After those words, Weston bowed deeply to the crowd.
Behind him, the members of the Bloodfin Gang followed suit, bowing respectfully to the enslaved men and women.
The emaciated, scarred slaves stared in stunned silence. A flicker of confusion crossed their otherwise lifeless eyes.
What is the Bloodfin Gang up to now?
“I know you probably think I’m full of it,” Weston continued, his eyes sweeping across the crowd, filled with remorse. “You think we’re plotting something again. That the Bloodfin Gang has another trick up its sleeve…”
“But I’m here to tell you this: as of today, you’re all free. The Bloodfin Gang will no longer enslave you. Ever again!”
A collective shudder ran through the crowd. Still, not a single person spoke.
They had been under the gang’s brutal control fora full year. In that time, they had witnessed rivers of blood and endless suffering.
Husbands, wives, and parents were slaughtered by the Bloodfin Gang. Their hatred ran too deep. So deep, they didn’t dare believe a word Weston said.
Seeing their silence, Weston understood their doubt. He clapped his hands softly.
Two of his men stepped forward, dragging two corpses behind them. They hoisted the bodies onto tall poles that had been prepared in advance.
“Take a good look…” Weston said. “You all know these men. For too long, the Bloodfin Gang was ruled by them. Everything we did, all the cruelty, was under their command. Yesterday, we chose to rise up. These are their bodies. Come see for yourselves if you don’t believe me.”
Every head turned toward the poles.
Two bodies swayed in the air, one was the captain, the other a burly, bearded man.
A spark of light returned to the slaves’ eyes.
These two, they were the monsters that haunted their every nightmare. The captain, especially, had been a bloodthirsty tyrant. He would murder slaves on a whim-sometimes for no reason at all. Many of the island’s dead had fallen at his hands.
“It’s him…”
“That’s them. I’d know those faces anywhere, dead or alive.”
“They’re dead! Ha! Finally dead! Hahaha!”
“God, what took you so long?!”
After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd erupted. Then came tears of joy, crazed laughter, whispered names of the loved ones they’d lost.
Suddenly, a shirtless man stormed toward the pole, his face twisted in rage. He raised a rock high and slammed it into the captain’s corpse.
Laughter bubbled from his throat as tears ran down his cheeks.
“Hahaha! He’s dead, Sis… He’s really dead! He’s dead now! Hahaha!”
His action unleashed the fury that had been buried in every heart. More slaves began picking up stones.
When the stones ran out, they threw clumps of dirt. Each one carried their anger, their grief, their hate.
The captain’s body was reduced to nothing under the storm of debris.
From a distance, Weston watched it all. He let out a quiet sigh. “Let them throw… If It helps ease the pain inside, it’s worth it…”
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