Despite possessing the "Insight" ability, it took Fang Senyan two or three hours to gather this array of information. With only about two pounds sterling remaining, he naturally thought of visiting a tavern for a few drinks—not just to gather intelligence, but also because his Drunken Milestone had reached 11/100. Since Fang Senyan had secured work, he didn't mind spending every last bit of his remaining coin on rum.

An hour later, Fang Senyan’s Drunken Milestone had advanced to 22/100, and his money, as expected, had dwindled down to single-digit pence. It was at this juncture that Fang Senyan heard a commotion outside. Through the tavern's mottled outer wall, he could glimpse a slight disturbance in the street, and the guards usually patrolling the harbor were now hurrying toward one specific direction.

As mentioned earlier, Tortuga Port was a neutral harbor. This meant its guards did not belong to any major faction but were maintained by the private entity that ruled the island. Perhaps when the pirate Bernard Foulke retired and established this neutral port, the guard strength was formidable, but now, it was undeniably true that the port's defenses were rapidly withering, much like a young mother's firm breasts after the trials of nursing.

The moment Fang Senyan stepped out of the tavern, without even needing to look up, he saw thick plumes of black smoke billowing from the highest point in Tortuga Port—the castle! The entire port had descended into chaos, resembling an ant hill into which a bone had been tossed—and one must remember, this place had been prosperous for seventy full years, and ninety-nine percent of its inhabitants, apart from the residents, were pirates!

These were not law-abiding tourists. Once Tortuga Port showed even the slightest hint of weakness, these pirates would politely depart, only to return on a dark and stormy night, swooping down like ravenous wolves to plunder every last penny into their coffers!

"Hmm…" At that moment, countless people, just like Fang Senyan, stroked their chins, gazed at the castle's smoke, and their minds churned with countless thoughts—thoughts that might not end in disaster but were certainly violent in nature.

Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed from the direction of the castle. Yellowish-brown dust and smoke shot up twenty to thirty meters high, even forming a mushroom cloud shape. Those with sharp eyes could see the wreckage of several carriages hurled into the air, disintegrating and separating mid-flight. The flesh and blood of the horses mingled with the smoke and sand, falling down with a sickening patter, an intensely tragic and shocking spectacle. Several pirates standing next to Fang Senyan gaped open-mouthed. A rough-looking bald man in dingy off-white linen exclaimed:

"Good heavens, those sons of bitches must have buried at least a hundred barrels of gunpowder!"

Although the man used the epithet "sons of bitches," the sheer delight on his face was no different from a regimental commander in a war drama clapping a company commander heartily on the shoulder while swearing, "You son of a bitch, you did well!" As soon as Fang Senyan heard this, he knew the man was likely a powder monkey or some specialist in artillery among the pirates. However, his thoughts immediately shifted to the black smoke from the castle and the earth-shattering explosion he had just witnessed.

It was possible the castle smoke was caused by the plot's key figures setting a fire, but to generate an explosion of that magnitude was highly improbable given the technological level of the Pirates of the Caribbean world. As the gunner beside him had suggested, it required at least a hundred barrels of gunpowder! And barrels in that era were usually made of oak, weighing over a hundred kilograms when filled. Therefore, for people lacking bulldozers and excavators, burying a hundred barrels of gunpowder could only be described as an engineering feat comparable to building the Great Wall. Only if the guards of Tortuga Port were all blind would they ignore such an undertaking.

Therefore, this could only have been the work of Contractors. Only Contractors could procure such high-yield, small-volume explosives, and only Contractors would dare to disregard the seventy years of peace in Tortuga Port to violently satisfy their own desires. At this moment, a flash of inspiration struck Fang Senyan, as if the key to a problem that had been troubling him had just been found, though he couldn't recall precisely which problem it was.

Suddenly, a flurry of panicked noise erupted from the far end of the harbor, and a few figures could be seen rushing back in flight, as terrified as mice before a cat's paw, or goats before a wolf's muzzle. These must be the Contractors responsible for the incident, hotly pursued by the Tortuga Port guards brandishing their weapons.

These guards must have received orders to kill or capture, refusing to let the Contractors escape. As these figures bolted within a hundred meters of where Fang Senyan stood, a long, piercing neigh suddenly erupted from a nearby alley. The sound initially resembled a horse’s whinny, but for some inexplicable reason, everyone who heard it instinctively shivered, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over their heads, chilling their very blood.

Then, with a tremendous crash, a nearby wooden building exploded outward in shards and scattered planks. A monstrous horse burst into the open, flying through the air. This steed was at least twice the height of a man, its muscles bulging so tautly they seemed ready to tear through its skin. Its eyes were covered by a black blindfold, and as its mane and tail streamed behind it, faint wisps of blue cold vapor trailed off like smoke, curling up around the giant horse’s back. On its back was a saddle of fiery red, as vivid as a matador's cape.

The rider was about forty years old, seated with perfect poise, requiring no reins. He sported a small, Spanish noble-style mustache but his chin was cleanly shaved. He wore a tall, black top hat, and his sharp, icy eyes had already fixed upon the scene. He then drew a short-barreled firearm!

Firearms at this time were primitive matchlocks, requiring a long time to reload after a single shot. But the moment this rider drew his gun, the fuse on the weapon ignited automatically. The dark muzzle was pointed directly forward, unleashing a tremendous "BOOM!" As the muzzle smoke billowed, Fang Senyan felt every hair on his body stand on end. His eyes widened suddenly. The Contractor at the very front of the fleeing group had been desperately trying to lunge forward and dodge, but the instant the shot rang out, his entire upper body exploded into a mess of bloody pulp!

The scene was like a watermelon being instantly crushed by an irresistible, massive force, its flesh and bone tragically blasted into small pieces. Pedestrians, street, and shops within a seven or eight-meter radius were painted with a layer of dark red, ghastly gore!

Even more bizarrely, the Contractor’s lower half remained perfectly intact. After his torso disintegrated, his legs continued running for several more steps before losing balance and collapsing onto the street with a heavy thud. Blood had only just begun to seep from the severed cross-section, slowly pooling into a small, dark red puddle.

Witnessing such a terrifying sight, the feelings of the remaining Contractors could be imagined. They exchanged glances, let out a wild cry, and scattered. Two of them, running toward the seaside, quickly pushed off a small boat and paddled furiously toward the sea like dogs fleeing their master, clearly banking on the weakness of the guards and the knight who could not swim. The giant horse’s speed was terrifying, but by the time it arrived, the dinghy was already fifty or sixty meters from the shore.

Just as nearly everyone thought the knight would be helpless, he yanked hard on the reins! The giant horse reared up with a shrill, piercing neigh. Icy-blue vapor spewed from its nostrils, mouth, and ears. In the afternoon sunlight, this cold vapor sparkled brilliantly, giving viewers the illusion of tangible frost.

Then, the giant horse leaped with all its might, plunging directly toward the sea! Its hooves were at least the size of washbasins. Upon striking the water, a layer of pale blue ice immediately formed on the ocean surface. Although the surging seawater below was clearly visible, the giant horse was already galloping forward. Around its hooves, a mist of ethereal white vapor manifested, freezing the sea surface two to three meters ahead, and the ice layer beneath the horse would rapidly dissolve after it passed. From a distance, it looked as if a white road of ice had materialized on the sea, leading straight toward the fleeing dinghy not far away.

In barely ten seconds, the two dumbfounded Contractors in the dinghy were overtaken. They appeared ready to resist briefly, but the knight on horseback drew the rapier from his side with a sharp clang, raised it high in a blur of lightning-fast motion, and then swept it out in a diagonal arc! The movements of the two Contractors instantly froze. Then, a flash of crimson appeared, and the two men were flicked into the air like sheaves of straw, impaled alive upon the steel of the rapier!

"AAAAAH!!!!" The knight on horseback let out a roar of pure fury, the sound echoing throughout the entire port. "Accept the wrath of the Foulke family, you scum and maggots!"

"Is that Little Foulke?" Fang Senyan heard a pirate next to him ask his companion. His companion was clearly well-informed, lowering his voice to reply:

"That's right. He is the third-generation heir of the Foulke family. That horse is called Moomor; it’s rumored to host a devil’s soul, and it was once Bernard Foulke’s mount. Only an heir of the Foulke family can ride it."

(To be continued, please visit: for the latest chapters.)