"Devil's Triangle!"
The lookout's scream pierced through everyone's relief at having survived.
The pirates, who had just narrowly escaped death from the giant wave, instantly lost all color from their faces.
If the giant wave earlier was a natural disaster, then the "Devil's Triangle" was the entrance to hell.
"How can this be... How did we end up here!"
Gibbs's voice was trembling.
"It was the storm! The storm blew us off course!"
"It's over... It's really over now..."
A wave of despair, like a plague, quickly spread across the deck.
Some pirates had even dropped their tools and slumped to the ground, their eyes vacant, having clearly given up all hope.
Captain Barbossa's face was also extremely grim.
As captain, he knew better than anyone what the Devil's Triangle meant.
That sea area was notorious for its chaotic and disordered currents and massive whirlpools; any ship that ventured in would be torn to shreds by those unseen undercurrents.
He would rather face ten more giant waves like the one they just experienced than approach that damned Devil's Triangle!
"Turn! Turn quickly!"
Barbossa roared, his voice hoarse.
"Get out of here! Quickly!"
The old pirate at the helm cried out with a mournful face:
"I can't, Captain! The wind is too strong! The ship isn't responding at all!"
"We're being pushed in!"
Barbossa rushed to the helm and tried it himself.
The wheel felt as heavy as a stone in his hands.
No matter how hard he tried, the ship's direction changed only minimally, utterly unable to break free from the force pushing them towards death.
"Damn it!"
Barbossa punched the helm, his knuckles instantly bloody, but he felt no pain.
Was he truly destined to be buried here today?
He was unwilling!
Just as everyone was sinking into the abyss of despair, Roger's voice rang out again.
It was still calm, even carrying a hint of an undeniable commanding tone.
"Don't panic! There's still hope!"
In an instant, everyone's gaze refocused on him.
It was him again!
This mysterious young man always seemed to say the most encouraging words at the most desperate times.
Barbossa spun around, staring intently at Roger, a final flicker of hope burning in his single eye.
"You... do you have a plan?"
He no longer cared about face or authority.
In the face of death, those things were worthless.
Roger didn't answer directly, but instead gave a loud order.
"Gibbs!"
Gibbs was startled for a moment, then subconsciously responded.
"Huh? Here!"
"Take a few men to check the hull! See if there's any leakage!"
"If there is, plug it immediately!"
"Billy!"
Billy, the bearded man who had previously caused trouble for Roger, was trembling while clutching a pillar, and he shivered when he heard his name.
"You, take men to tie down everything on deck that can be secured! Tighten all loose ropes!"
"And you! Helmsman!"
Roger pointed at the old pirate.
"Maintain the current angle, don't move! Wait for my command!"
Roger's series of commands were clear and decisive; he didn't use a requesting or negotiating tone, but rather gave direct orders.
Strangely, none of the usually unruly pirates, including Gibbs and Billy, objected after hearing his commands.
They just paused for a moment, then instinctively began to act.
It was as if, in their hearts, this young man had already replaced the captain and become the true backbone of this ship.
Captain Barbossa stood by, watching the scene, his mouth opening and closing, but he didn't say anything to stop them.
He was shocked to discover that every one of Roger's commands precisely hit the most critical points.
Checking the hull, securing cargo, stabilizing the helm... these were the most basic and important steps for dealing with extreme sea conditions.
Although he could have thought of them himself, in the panic and despair he had felt just moments ago, he simply couldn't have organized them so calmly and systematically.
This kid... he wasn't just blindly giving orders.
He really understood navigation!
And he understood it even better than he, an old sea dog who had been a captain for twenty years!
Roger ignored everyone's gazes.
He quickly walked to the ship's rail, facing the gusting wind and spray, squinting his eyes as he carefully observed the terrifying sea area ahead, known as the "Devil's Triangle."
In his vision, the data of that sea area was being presented in a peculiar way.
This was an ability granted by his "Basic Navigation Skill."
He could "see" the directions of currents imperceptible to the naked eye, and "feel" the suction range of those deadly whirlpools.
On his "nautical map," this so-called land of death was not without a way out.
Between those seemingly chaotic currents and whirlpools, there were several extremely narrow, but relatively stable, waterways.
They were like the main threads in a spider's web.
Fragile, yet they existed.
As long as he could precisely maneuver the ship and navigate along these waterways, it might be possible to pass through this hell!
This required extremely precise calculations and control over the ship, wind direction, and currents.
For people of this era, it was an impossible task.
But for Roger, who possessed modern navigation knowledge and system assistance, it was worth a shot!
"There's a way!"
Roger suddenly turned back, an astonishing light bursting from his eyes.
"There's a way out!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it was filled with powerful confidence, instantly dispelling the despair on deck.
"What?"
Barbossa lunged to his side.
"Where?"
"Just listen to me!"
Roger had no time to explain.
He pointed to a direction slightly to the left ahead and said decisively.
"Now, fifteen degrees to starboard!"
"Point the bow towards that patch of water that looks calmest!"
"Calmest?"
Barbossa looked in the direction he pointed, and his face changed.
"No! To the left of there is a huge whirlpool!"
"Going closer is suicide!"
"There's no time!"
Roger sharply retorted.
"The suction range of that whirlpool is smaller than you think!"
"That calm patch of water is a temporary stable zone formed by the convergence of two currents! That's our only entrance!"
His words were filled with professional terminology and a strong sense of urgency, leaving Barbossa momentarily speechless and unable to refute.
"Trust me this once!"
Roger looked directly into Barbossa's eyes, saying each word clearly.
"I can get you all out!"
"Listen to me, and we'll all live!"
Their eyes met.
From those young eyes, Barbossa saw a confidence and composure he had never witnessed before.
It wasn't the madness of a gambler, but the absolute self-assurance of a controller in his own abilities.
He was silent for a few seconds, and everyone on deck felt their hearts in their throats.
Finally, Barbossa suddenly waved his hand and roared at the helmsman.
"Do as he says! Fifteen degrees to starboard! Quick!"