From Corsica to the Fourth Rome

On an ordinary evening in the Mediterranean Sea, a merchant ship converted from a heavy frigate, the White Rose, was sailing smoothly through the calm waves.

In order to expand the capacity, the White Rose removed one layer of the original two-layer gun deck and converted it into a passenger cabin and a cargo hold.

Of course, only those with extremely poor economic conditions would choose to board such a merchant ship. After all, not everyone can tolerate the darkness and dampness of the lower deck and the mosquitoes and rats that breed everywhere.

"My head hurts so much. Where is this?"

In a room in the lower cabin, a handsome young man rubbed his dizzy head and struggled to sit up from the bed covered with hay.

The young man waited for a while before his blurry vision became clear again, and he took stock of the current situation.

He was in an extremely narrow room, only about four or five square meters.

This kind of space is only enough to fit a simple bed board and a small wooden table that can't even put an arm on it. There is also a palm-sized, scratched small bronze mirror hanging on the wall.

The room has no windows, but you can still smell the faint smell of the wet, salty sea.

Of course, what's more is the unbearable smell of rotting wood.

"Is this on a ship? I clearly remember that I worked overtime at the company last night." The young man muttered to himself in confusion, rubbing his still dazed head in confusion.

In his memory, his name was Yi Wen, and he was an ordinary mechanical engineer.

But at this moment, a memory appeared in my mind out of thin air. It seemed that I was another eighteenth-century Italian named Lawrence Bonaparte. Other than that, I knew nothing about this Lawrence.

Lawrence continued to look at the small room with unfocused eyes, glanced at the mirror on the wall, then stood up and stood in front of the bronze mirror.

What he saw in the mirror was no longer the familiar face with yellow skin and black hair, but the face of a young man with blond hair and white face.

The tall nose bridge and angular facial features were completely different from what he remembered about his appearance.

Is this really me? !

Just when Lawrence was still confused and at a loss, the door was knocked roughly twice.

Boom! Boom!

Before Lawrence could respond, the other party opened the door directly.

Outside the door was a muscular man with a light blue turban on his head. He was holding a sack in his right hand and an unsheathed short knife on his waist. He seemed to be a sailor on the ship.

Although a long and narrow scar on his cheek made people doubt whether he had ever been a pirate.

"Your supper, M. Laurence Bonaparte."

The sailor said impatiently, then took out a piece of dry and hard black bread from the sack and threw it in.

The sound of this low-quality dry bread hitting the bed board was like a stone.

Lawrence was stunned for two seconds before he realized that the other party was calling him.

"Hey, wait a minute."

Seeing the sailor about to leave after distributing bread, Lawrence quickly stopped him and asked: "Are we on a ship? Where is this ship going?"

After hearing this, the sailor glanced at Lawrence jokingly and said sarcastically: "Hey, hey, sir, didn't you even look at the destination when you took the boat?"

Lawrence was not in the mood to joke at all at this moment, and remained expressionless and silent.

Seeing that he couldn't find much fun, the sailor said casually, boredly: "We are going to Corsica, a city called Ajaccio in the southwest of Corsica."

"Corsica?" Lawrence repeated in confusion. He only remembered that it was an island in the Mediterranean and a province of France.

As for Ajaccio, it is their provincial capital. There is a very famous football team there, and it will not be a problem to at least beat the national football team.

"Are we going to France?" Lawrence asked.

"France?" The sailor was stunned for a moment, then frowned and glanced at Lawrence and said:

"Corsica has a close relationship with the French? It is the territory of the Genoese, but the Corsicans were also seeking independence in the past few years."

Genoa? Is there a name for this country?

Lawrence closed his eyes and thought for a moment, reluctantly remembering that it was a coastal commercial republic located in southeastern France and northwest Italy.

But it was annexed as early as the beginning of the nineteenth century.

Could it be that.? !

"Can you please tell me what year it is now?" Lawrence's voice trembled a little, which was beyond his knowledge.

The sailor's expression was even more strange, and he kept saying: "Oh my God, there must be something wrong with your head. Forget it, sir, it is January of 1768 in the Gregorian calendar."

"Then" Lawrence opened his mouth in shock, wanting to ask more questions.

The sailor was already very impatient and said first: "We will be docking soon, sir. If you have any questions, go to the island and ask someone yourself!"

After that, he added:

"I suggest you go to the upper deck and enjoy the sea breeze to clear your head. Maybe your brain is damaged here."

Lawrence opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he had to smile bitterly and said:

"Maybe. Please take me to the deck to get some fresh air."

Lawrence then followed the sailor through small winding corridors and up a creaking wooden ladder to the deck.

The wet and salty sea breeze blew against his face, mixed with the slight chill of the Mediterranean in January, which really made Lawrence sober.

It was evening at this time, and the sky was not completely dark yet, but the stars and the bright moon on the horizon could already be vaguely seen.

The upper deck was also in a mess, with hemp ropes, oilcloths, and wooden boxes everywhere, which was in line with the style of this group of sailors.

Lawrence leaned against the side of the boat, letting the sea breeze hit his face. In these few dozen minutes, he still couldn't accept that he had returned to Europe more than two hundred years ago.

"How's it going? Do you feel better?"

The sailor just now seemed to have finished his work, walked up to Lawrence and said with some sympathy.

Lawrence smiled bitterly and nodded. Although his physical discomfort had basically recovered, such a jump would not be acceptable for a while.

"I feel a lot more comfortable indeed, thank you. By the way, I haven't asked your name yet." Lawrence looked at the sailor and said.

"Me?" The sailor leaned against the side of the ship and held his head in his hands, looking very cool. "Just call me Grosso."

Lawrence nodded, then fell silent again and continued to stare at the sea.

The outline of Corsica can already be seen in the field of vision, and scattered ships can be vaguely seen sailing in and out of the island.

"Wait, something is wrong!" Grosso beside him suddenly became serious and murmured in a low voice.

Without waiting for Lawrence to react, Grosso pointed to a ship not far away. The bow of that ship was pointing directly at the White Rose and seemed to be approaching at full speed.

After hearing this, Lawrence couldn't help but feel a little nervous. He narrowed his eyes and looked in the direction Grosso pointed.

I saw that it was a tall three-masted sailing ship. The ship was much taller than the White Rose, and it seemed to have an extra gun deck.

The most eye-catching thing is the red cross flag flying on the main mast.

"They were flying a red cross flag on a white background." Lawrence said with a frown.

Grosso gritted his teeth, his voice trembling:

"Damn it, that's a Genoese warship!"

"What? Are we going to be inspected?" Lawrence asked uneasily as he looked at the approaching warship.

Grosso spat and said harshly: "Check it, everything on our ship is fucking contraband, and these Genoese bitches know it very well!"

In order to suppress the uprising in Corsica, Genoa imposed a trade embargo on the entire island, which also made trade with the island only through smuggling.

The observers on the White Rose had obviously spotted the Genoese warship earlier, and the captain had responded in time, shifting the ship's speed to forward fourth gear and heading towards Ajaccio at full speed.

Ajaccio was controlled by the Corsicans, and Genoese warships would not dare linger there for long.

The White Rose's behavior of escaping at full speed was also discovered by the Genoese warship.

While Lawrence was still looking at the warship very uneasily, he heard a deafening roar, and dozens of black shadows rushed towards Lawrence's field of vision at extremely fast speeds.

"Get down!!"

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