Like a crown woven from twisted, decayed tree roots, its surface emits a silver metallic sheen, with some gaps filled with dust, making it look weathered.
Valuable, very valuable.
Ande wasn't sure if the crown was made of silver or another metal, but from the first glance, he realized it was priceless.
Never underestimate the allure of wealth to a person.
Ande had said this to the captain when he was on his deathbed.
"If you're not here to kill me, then you're here to beg me. What do you need?"
Ande put away his gun with a smile, showing off his gold teeth.
"A ticket to the Viking lands."
Watson replied coldly, the continuous exhaustion making it difficult for her to muster any emotion to say more, not to mention the burden brought by this body.
The human physique has its limitations, and after long travels, this body was about to give out. Even Watson's extraordinary will couldn't control a dead body.
"Is that all?" Ande doubted if he had heard correctly.
