In a certain location within the East Sea Domain, a hundred or so boats were arranged in a formation resembling the Chinese character for 'product'. Each boat was connected to the next by a thick steel chain, and the sails had all been taken down. No matter how strong the storms, they couldn't be separated.
This was naturally the handiwork of Chicken Feather Gall. Such a large-scale migration, taking matters into his own hands—if any boat capsized, his head would be lopped off by Che Dapao!
But this method was indeed quite foolproof. At least in the past days, the residents of Sea Stone City didn't have their lives on the boats affected by the storms.
Except for one thing... We've run out of cabbage, and we're sick of eating fish.
Chicken Feather Gall stood by the boat's railing, face long, occasionally flicking a bamboo pole.
You'd say he's fishing! Indeed he is fishing.
But if you say he's not fishing, well, it seems he's not planning on catching any fish at all.
