"This man is crazy." Preston scolded Jared again when he saw the boat before him. Even though he was some distance away, he smelt the odor of fish and the sea and felt nauseous. "Couldn't he have sent me back on a speed boat? Why do I have to use a fisherman's boat?"
"I hear you, brother," Jared remarked from behind and Preston rolled his eyes in dismay. "I hear you scolding me."
"If you do, then do something about it and shut me up." Preston rebuked, keeping his face fixed on the sea rather than the man behind him.
"That's something I can't do. I am sorry."
"Why, though? Do you want to torture me? Do you want to kill me?" Preston narrowed his eyes and his jaw ticked in anger. Was it not enough for him to smack his head until he bled? Did he have to go as far as to force him on a fisherman's boat with a stinking smell that could make anyone nauseous and sick?
