“Crack!”

There was a crisp sound of bones dislocating, and Mark's left hand, like a pair of pliers, grabbed the wrist of the other axe-wielding henchman, and with an extremely unnatural reverse twist, he neatly dislocated his elbow joint.

The axe fell to the sand, and the minions screamed heartbreakingly.

Mark's figure moved around among seven or eight minions.

Every punch, every kick, every grab, was delivered with terrifyingly efficient force.

After his six-dimensional attributes became higher, many of the skills Enzo taught him could be used easily, and he could fight without the help of the cross necklace.

He did not use any extremely lethal fighting skills, but his targets were all joints, acupuncture points, abdominal plexus and other places that could cause severe pain and instant loss of combat effectiveness.

There were neither gorgeous skill bursts nor dazzling magical lights on the scene.

There was only the dull thud of fists hitting flesh, the crackling of bones breaking or dislocating, and the shrill wails that rose and fell, gradually drowned out by the sound of the waves.

In just a dozen or so breaths, everyone was gone, except for the tattooed bald man whose fierce look had been replaced by horror.

The guy with the sharp-nosed monkey face who was shot through the wrist by an arrow at the beginning had already crawled up, while the rest of the minions were lying on the ground.

Some rolled over and groaned, holding their twisted arms or legs.

Some curled up like shrimps, bleeding from their mouths and noses, and retching in pain.

Some were knocked unconscious by Mark's precise blow to the neck, and lay straight on the wet and cold beach, unconscious.

"You...you...you, who are you?" The tattooed bald man's teeth were chattering, and the veins on his hand holding the handle of the knife were bulging, but he didn't dare to pull it out.

The ruthlessness and terrifying skills of the young man in front of him far exceeded his imagination.

To be honest, the Haichao Chamber of Commerce doesn't need these sailors and minions to take action outside.

They really haven't even had a proper group fight.

The power contained in Mark's calm eyes sent a chill down his spine.

Mark patted his cuffs which were slightly stained with sand, and shot his eyes at the bald man like a cold dagger.

He walked forward slowly, each step hitting the sand, making a slight sound but causing the bald man's heart to stop.

"You're the only one left." Mark's voice was calm and without any ripples, but it made the bald man feel extremely threatened by death. "It was you who said you were going to buy me a 'penalty drink', wasn't it?"

Just then, a low splashing sound came from the coastline not far away.

The first wave of the early morning tide, bringing with it moisture, began to flood the beach.

The sea water quickly soaked the sand and quietly touched the bodies of the thugs who were lying on the ground, curled up and trembling in pain.

The salty sea water seeped into the wound, bringing a piercing pain and triggering even more miserable cries.

Someone was suddenly shocked by the sea water and woke up from fainting in pain, only to find that half of his body was soaked in the cold sea water.

The arms, with their joints removed, were powerless and could only twist and struggle in vain in the wet sand, being dragged deeper and deeper by the sea.

The wailing sounds mixed with the surging tide, weaving into a terrifying symphony.

The tattooed bald man was stiff all over, with cold sweat dripping down his forehead mixed with the blood of his companion that had just splashed on him.

He looked into Mark's emotionless eyes, then glanced at his men who were struggling and wailing in the rising tide like stranded garbage.

Then he looked at the elf girl in the distance who was slowly nodding her arrow again.

Fear was like an icy tide, instantly drowning his ferocity.

He finally realized that he had hit a wall that could shatter him to pieces today.

However, on the outskirts of the crowd, far away from the center of the conflict, a thin man who looked like an ordinary fisherman and was sorting fishing nets nearby witnessed almost the entire process.

When Mark took action, he quietly turned his back and squatted behind the reef.

Then, while everyone's attention was drawn to Mark in the middle of the beach and the group of thugs struggling and screaming in the tide.

Like a frightened loach, he quietly slipped out of the crowd and rushed along the winding plank road towards Anchor Bay City.

Several shell pickers who were watching from a high reef in the distance also looked at each other in horror and also quickly retreated towards the city.

When they left, the people outside only saw from a distance that Anna ruthlessly pulled out the arrow from the wrist of the sharp-nosed monkey-faced man, and then the three outsiders swaggered away from the beach.

Anchor Bay City, Surge Inn, kitchen.

The salty sea breeze was blocked by the thick wooden windows.

The kitchen was filled with a completely different, fresh and complex atmosphere.

Mark was busy processing the harvest from the sea, his movements precise and graceful.

The meat of the pried-open oysters is white and plump, trembling slightly in the clear water.

The plump bamboo clams were neatly shelled and the meat taken out.

Several blue crabs were tied up with straw ropes, blowing bubbles in vain.

Anna helped Mark wash, the water was running, but her emerald green eyes kept scanning the door vigilantly. She always felt uneasy that she hadn't gotten rid of the group of troublemakers today.

Monica held Xiao Mu, who had regained some spirit, and the identification magic circle was flowing slightly in the depths of her wine-red pupils.

While carefully analyzing how the indescribable harmonizing energy flowed within the ingredients when Mark processed them, he said to Anna with a bit of amusement:

"Sister Anna, you're too nervous! They're just a bunch of sailors who aren't even at level three, with no background. We can fight them, but if we really kill them, we'll be disrespecting the governor of Anchor Bay. We can't bring the spirit of adventurers into inland cities."

Monica is an expert at building relationships in the city and has made her way through the ranks.

No matter who is black or white, you have to have some dignity to survive in the city.

If you don't care about anything and just tear someone's face off, anyone would be angry with you!

"Tsk, this seafood is so much fresher than the wild game from the mountains!"

Enzo's loud voice broke the atmosphere in the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame with his arms folded, staring intently at the ingredients that were about to become delicacies.

"Mark, what's for lunch? I'm steaming that giant crab! The dipping sauce needs to be strong! And those long worms are so tender and soft! Stir-fry them! It has to be stir-fried! Add lots of chili!"

"Those are blue crabs and razor clams! You're just sitting there doing nothing but cooking. You don't even know the ingredients, yet you're ordering!"

Without even looking up, Mark skillfully used the tip of his knife to pick out the broken shells from the edge of the oyster meat. "We have to cook the ingredients step by step. We have to make them behave themselves first. Please stop barking."

Imperceptible energy lingered on his fingertips as he gently brushed across the oyster meat. The original weak stress reaction subsided instantly, and the meat appeared more transparent and moist.

At this moment, the freckled waiter of the hotel appeared at the door again, his face was paler than last time, and he was holding something in his hand that was out of place in the simple hotel.

A piece of dark blue hard paper with intricate golden wave patterns embossed on the edges and an exquisite conch emblem printed in the center.

His voice trembled. "Sir... a visiting card from the Haichao Chamber of Commerce."