Clearly, on this vessel, the Bell and Goblet, the Navigator, Mr. Shyar, was highly capable yet inherently restless. However, a pirate ship simply could not function without him. Thus, the Captain wisely introduced his confidant, Scar Henry, to challenge Shyar, while the Captain himself remained above the fray, playing the impartial observer while subtly tilting the scales. Scar Henry likely had ulterior motives for bringing me aboard—most likely aiming to weaken Shyar's faction—though my own death wouldn't matter; surviving would be a bonus.

At this juncture, Fang Senyan didn't mind being a tool in someone else's hand. On the journey to the Bell and Goblet, it was obvious that the pirate ships recruiting crewmen were vastly inferior to this ship in both size and scale. Retreating under these circumstances would undoubtedly mean forsaking the essential for the trivial for Fang Senyan, sacrificing a grand opportunity for a potential danger.

So, upon hearing Shyar’s words, Fang Senyan immediately stepped forward, took a firm step, placed his left hand over his chest, bowed slightly, and stated resolutely:

“The sailor Yan from the East accepts the trial of the Bell and Goblet!”

Shyar glanced at Fang Senyan, then grimly fixed his gaze upon the Boatswain beside him. Boatswain Calon was a one-eyed man, wearing a wide-cuffed, soiled shirt whose original color was indiscernible, covered by a linen waistcoat, with a light rapier popular in the Latin Sea tucked at his waist. Following Shyar’s subtle cue, Calon nodded toward his trusted subordinate, Gett, a dark-skinned man with a bare torso and a head full of tight braids, who stepped forward.

Out of caution, Fang Senyan immediately activated his Insight ability, obtaining Gett’s information.

Wild-Haired Gett Sailor, Bell and Goblet Height 6 feet 4 inches (1.98m), Weight 108G Strength 6 points Agility 4 points Stamina 5 points Perception 7 points Charisma 5 points Intelligence 5 points Spirit 5 points Base Melee LV2, Base Endurance LV1, Base Ranged LV1

Gett aggressively strode right up to Fang Senyan, curling his thick lips in disdain. After locking faces in a tense standoff for a moment, he stepped back, drew the sharp knife from his waist, licked the blade, and taunted loudly:

“CEN, boy, I’m going to let some blood out of you!”

Fang Senyan remained silent. Just as Shyar raised his hand to signal the start, he suddenly called out loudly:

“Hold!”

Shyar’s face immediately twisted into a sneer, and even Scar Henry grew impatient, thinking perhaps this fellow was just all flash and no substance, losing his nerve at the last moment. The surrounding pirates erupted in loud laughter and jeers, but Fang Senyan stated calmly:

“In the East, when a duel involves weaponry, one life must always be consecrated to the sky. If I die, I have nothing to say, but if he dies, what then?”

Fang Senyan’s words were like a sudden gust of chilling wind, causing everyone to shiver. Scar Henry, however, was reassured and laughed heartily:

“Gett, did you hear that? If you’re afraid to die, get down.”

Gett was a desperado—who wouldn't carry their head in their belt after choosing the promising career of piracy? He let out a strange cry, raised his knife, and lunged straight for Fang Senyan’s chest!

Fang Senyan snatched hold of the common Viking dagger with his bare hand!

Crimson blood immediately began to flow down the sharp edge, but one must not forget that Fang Senyan was currently within the Nightmare World, and his innate ability, Tenacity, had been activated!

“You have sustained 35 points of damage; your innate ability Tenacity has taken effect, resulting in actual damage taken of 10 points!”

Gett screamed, trying to yank the dagger back, only to find the weapon felt welded in place, immovable!

Fang Senyan’s eyes flashed as if igniting; he stepped forward, ducked, dropped his shoulder, charged, and rammed his body squarely into Gett’s abdomen!

Gett’s face instantly turned ashen. Anyone struck in the stomach experiences immediate, intense nausea, followed by indescribable pain. But Fang Senyan had no intention of stopping; he swept his forearms outward in a horizontal arc, slamming strikes into Gett’s left and right temples. Then, with an agile slip, he moved behind him, hooking the man in a 'princess carry,' and slammed him down violently onto his own raised right knee!

Fang Senyan’s attack sequence was crisp, clean, and swift; Gett seemed like a folding chair in his hands, collapsed in three quick motions. However, while a chair can be unfolded, a man forcefully folded so that his skull meets his heels is destined for a tragic end.

A sharp ‘crack’ of bone fracturing echoed alongside a piercing scream, yet Fang Senyan’s expression was cold as granite. He knew well that against such savage pirates, only being more savage could instill respect; leniency and mercy only lead to becoming an object of humiliation! He casually tossed the limp carcass of Gett aside, inwardly cursing the poor bastard for dropping nothing, shook the blood dripping from his palm as if it were nothing, and called out:

“Next.”

The surrounding pirates exchanged uneasy glances; Fang Senyan’s brutality had produced a stark effect. A strange fear flickered in their eyes. For these pirates, choosing this life meant accepting death, but fighting so savagely for no apparent gain was something none of them wished to do. At this moment, not only was Shyar’s face ugly, but even Scar Henry’s smile felt strained. His goal had only been to deflate Shyar's prestige; he hadn't expected Sailor Yan to be so ruthlessly violent! Now, they were stuck in an awkward situation, unable to back down.

Shyar’s expression shifted several times, and just as he was about to speak, a man rushed out from the cabin. He was also Black, with thick lips and a completely bald, gleaming head under the sun. It was immediately apparent that he possessed exceptionally long legs and a pair of fiercely sharp, triangular eyes. He saw Gett’s completely contorted body on the deck and immediately collapsed over it, weeping loudly! After a moment, he straightened up, glaring fiercely at Fang Senyan:

“Did you do this?”

Fang Senyan replied coldly:

“I apologize for the accidental misfortune during that fair duel.”

The man tore off the necklace around his neck—upon closer inspection, it was made of human teeth strung together with strands of hair—and threw it before Fang Senyan, where it scattered across the deck with a clatter. He then growled fiercely:

“I apologize in advance for my next mishap.”

Fang Senyan’s expression instantly changed. It wasn't fear of the man's attack, but the prompt he received from the Nightmare Mark:

“You have been afflicted by a Voodoo curse (Black Snake Bite LV1); one of your personal base attributes will be randomly extracted and temporarily bestowed upon the enemy.”

“Random extraction in progress….”

“Your Spirit value is reduced by one point; this point will be bestowed upon the enemy!”

Scar Henry sighed softly, then shouted loudly:

“The second trial begins! From the mysterious East, Yan versus our Jamaican executioner/First Mate: Warivarika!”

The sun was setting deeply now, dyeing the western clouds a color like smeared fresh blood. The sea surface was calm, shimmering dazzlingly. The two men stood facing each other at a distance; there were no other arbiters on this deck. The victor would be determined not by a referee, but by survival—or death—the one left standing at the end would be the winner. After a few seconds of stillness, Fang Senyan held his ground while Warivarika agilely bent low, drawing a sharp short axe from his waist, and slowly closed the distance.

His gait was peculiar, as if the ground beneath his feet were slick and required him to move by planting his feet forward, creating an illusion of floating uncertainty. This footwork originated from the victory dances of primitive Black tribes, known as the Hunter's Dance Steps, which later evolved into the famous Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, renowned for its deceptive unpredictability.

Suddenly, Warivarika let out a piercing, eerie shriek that made everyone’s eardrums ache. His feet crossed, and his steps widened. He tossed the short axe rhythmically from his left hand to his right, and back again! Though his demeanor seemed aggressive, his footwork was quite shallow, tracing arcs—a posture that involved stepping forward only to retreat half a step. If Fang Senyan pressed the attack, the prepared Jamaican could retreat and use his favored hit-and-run tactics to exhaust the opponent.

Fang Senyan’s facial muscles twitched slightly. With his considerable combat experience, the intent of the man named Warivarika was crystal clear in his eyes. A flicker of mockery crossed his gaze as he accelerated his pace and charged straight at the formidable Jamaican!

Navigators often carry an air of mystery, affording them high prestige among the crew; on some pirate ships, the Navigator’s status can equal or even surpass that of the Captain. As a side note: Jack Sparrow, the protagonist of the Pirates of the Caribbean series, is not only a Captain but also an exceptionally skilled Navigator, evidenced by his success in finding the Fountain of Youth, cementing his unshakeable command. In At World's End (Dead Man's Chest or At World's End, depending on context, translated as Part 4 here), even when forced aboard Blackbeard’s ship, his navigational prowess allowed him to successfully incite a mutiny.

Clearly, on this vessel, the Bell and Goblet, the Navigator, Mr. Shyar, was highly capable yet inherently restless. However, a pirate ship simply could not function without him. Thus, the Captain wisely introduced his confidant, Scar Henry, to challenge Shyar, while the Captain himself remained above the fray, playing the impartial observer while subtly tilting the scales. Scar Henry likely had ulterior motives for bringing me aboard—most likely aiming to weaken Shyar's faction—though my own death wouldn't matter; surviving would be a bonus.

At this juncture, Fang Senyan didn't mind being a tool in someone else's hand. On the journey to the Bell and Goblet, it was obvious that the pirate ships recruiting crewmen were vastly inferior to this ship in both size and scale. Retreating under these circumstances would undoubtedly mean forsaking the essential for the trivial for Fang Senyan, sacrificing a grand opportunity for a potential danger.

So, upon hearing Shyar’s words, Fang Senyan immediately stepped forward, took a firm step, placed his left hand over his chest, bowed slightly, and stated resolutely:

“The sailor Yan from the East accepts the trial of the Bell and Goblet!”

Shyar glanced at Fang Senyan, then grimly fixed his gaze upon the Boatswain beside him. Boatswain Calon was a one-eyed man, wearing a wide-cuffed, soiled shirt whose original color was indiscernible, covered by a linen waistcoat, with a light rapier popular in the Latin Sea tucked at his waist. Following Shyar’s subtle cue, Calon nodded toward his trusted subordinate, Gett, a dark-skinned man with a bare torso and a head full of tight braids, who stepped forward.

Out of caution, Fang Senyan immediately activated his Insight ability, obtaining Gett’s information.

Wild-Haired Gett Sailor, Bell and Goblet Height 6 feet 4 inches (1.98m), Weight 108G Strength 6 points Agility 4 points Stamina 5 points Perception 7 points Charisma 5 points Intelligence 5 points Spirit 5 points Base Melee LV2, Base Endurance LV1, Base Ranged LV1

Gett aggressively strode right up to Fang Senyan, curling his thick lips in disdain. After locking faces in a tense standoff for a moment, he stepped back, drew the sharp knife from his waist, licked the blade, and taunted loudly:

“CEN, boy, I’m going to let some blood out of you!”

Fang Senyan remained silent. Just as Shyar raised his hand to signal the start, he suddenly called out loudly:

“Hold!”

Shyar’s face immediately twisted into a sneer, and even Scar Henry grew impatient, thinking perhaps this fellow was just all flash and no substance, losing his nerve at the last moment. The surrounding pirates erupted in loud laughter and jeers, but Fang Senyan stated calmly:

“In the East, when a duel involves weaponry, one life must always be consecrated to the sky. If I die, I have nothing to say, but if he dies, what then?”

Fang Senyan’s words were like a sudden gust of chilling wind, causing everyone to shiver. Scar Henry, however, was reassured and laughed heartily:

“Gett, did you hear that? If you’re afraid to die, get down.”

Gett was a desperado—who wouldn't carry their head in their belt after choosing the promising career of piracy? He let out a strange cry, raised his knife, and lunged straight for Fang Senyan’s chest!

Fang Senyan snatched hold of the common Viking dagger with his bare hand!

Crimson blood immediately began to flow down the sharp edge, but one must not forget that Fang Senyan was currently within the Nightmare World, and his innate ability, Tenacity, had been activated!

“You have sustained 35 points of damage; your innate ability Tenacity has taken effect, resulting in actual damage taken of 10 points!”

Gett screamed, trying to yank the dagger back, only to find the weapon felt welded in place, immovable!

Fang Senyan’s eyes flashed as if igniting; he stepped forward, ducked, dropped his shoulder, charged, and rammed his body squarely into Gett’s abdomen!

Gett’s face instantly turned ashen. Anyone struck in the stomach experiences immediate, intense nausea, followed by indescribable pain. But Fang Senyan had no intention of stopping; he swept his forearms outward in a horizontal arc, slamming strikes into Gett’s left and right temples. Then, with an agile slip, he moved behind him, hooking the man in a 'princess carry,' and slammed him down violently onto his own raised right knee!

Fang Senyan’s attack sequence was crisp, clean, and swift; Gett seemed like a folding chair in his hands, collapsed in three quick motions. However, while a chair can be unfolded, a man forcefully folded so that his skull meets his heels is destined for a tragic end.

A sharp ‘crack’ of bone fracturing echoed alongside a piercing scream, yet Fang Senyan’s expression was cold as granite. He knew well that against such savage pirates, only being more savage could instill respect; leniency and mercy only lead to becoming an object of humiliation! He casually tossed the limp carcass of Gett aside, inwardly cursing the poor bastard for dropping nothing, shook the blood dripping from his palm as if it were nothing, and called out:

“Next.”

The surrounding pirates exchanged uneasy glances; Fang Senyan’s brutality had produced a stark effect. A strange fear flickered in their eyes. For these pirates, choosing this life meant accepting death, but fighting so savagely for no apparent gain was something none of them wished to do. At this moment, not only was Shyar’s face ugly, but even Scar Henry’s smile felt strained. His goal had only been to deflate Shyar's prestige; he hadn't expected Sailor Yan to be so ruthlessly violent! Now, they were stuck in an awkward situation, unable to back down.

Shyar’s expression shifted several times, and just as he was about to speak, a man rushed out from the cabin. He was also Black, with thick lips and a completely bald, gleaming head under the sun. It was immediately apparent that he possessed exceptionally long legs and a pair of fiercely sharp, triangular eyes. He saw Gett’s completely contorted body on the deck and immediately collapsed over it, weeping loudly! After a moment, he straightened up, glaring fiercely at Fang Senyan:

“Did you do this?”

Fang Senyan replied coldly:

“I apologize for the accidental misfortune during that fair duel.”

The man tore off the necklace around his neck—upon closer inspection, it was made of human teeth strung together with strands of hair—and threw it before Fang Senyan, where it scattered across the deck with a clatter. He then growled fiercely:

“I apologize in advance for my next mishap.”

Fang Senyan’s expression instantly changed. It wasn't fear of the man's attack, but the prompt he received from the Nightmare Mark:

“You have been afflicted by a Voodoo curse (Black Snake Bite LV1); one of your personal base attributes will be randomly extracted and temporarily bestowed upon the enemy.”

“Random extraction in progress….”

“Your Spirit value is reduced by one point; this point will be bestowed upon the enemy!”

Scar Henry sighed softly, then shouted loudly:

“The second trial begins! From the mysterious East, Yan versus our Jamaican executioner/First Mate: Warivarika!”

The sun was setting deeply now, dyeing the western clouds a color like smeared fresh blood. The sea surface was calm, shimmering dazzlingly. The two men stood facing each other at a distance; there were no other arbiters on this deck. The victor would be determined not by a referee, but by survival—or death—the one left standing at the end would be the winner. After a few seconds of stillness, Fang Senyan held his ground while Warivarika agilely bent low, drawing a sharp short axe from his waist, and slowly closed the distance.

His gait was peculiar, as if the ground beneath his feet were slick and required him to move by planting his feet forward, creating an illusion of floating uncertainty. This footwork originated from the victory dances of primitive Black tribes, known as the Hunter's Dance Steps, which later evolved into the famous Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, renowned for its deceptive unpredictability.

Suddenly, Valivalika let out an agonizing, piercing shriek that made everyone’s eardrums ache faintly. His footing faltered; his steps grew wider, and he incessantly tossed the short axe from his left hand to his right, and then back again! Though he appeared menacing, his footwork was remarkably unsteady, carving out arcs that were essentially a posture designed to retreat half a step for every step forward. If Fang Senyan had seized the momentum to strike fiercely, the prepared Jamaican could naturally use the opportunity to evade, relying on his favored hit-and-run tactics to drain the opponent’s stamina.

The muscles in Fang Senyan's face twitched slightly. His combat experience was already substantial; the intentions of this Jamaican named Valivalika were perfectly clear in his eyes. A trace of mockery flickered in his gaze as he accelerated his pace, charging directly toward the burly Jamaican!

............ Begging for Three River votes—I’m now within double digits of catching up!!! Utmost emergency! (To be continued, please visit [link] for the latest chapter.)