Fang Senyan nodded slightly, slicing a large, sizzling piece of roast meat from the grill before him, sprinkling seasoning over it, and devouring it. After finishing, he clapped his hands together and roared in hearty agreement with the drunken pirates beside him, linking arms to join their jig and singing their lewd songs, showing no sign of wanting to depart. The pirate waited for a long time, and finally, taking advantage of a moment when Fang Senyan sat down to rest, couldn't help but ask: “Forgive my presumption, Mr. Yan, but I believe two very important figures are waiting for you?”

Fang Senyan turned his head, offering a smile: “What is your name?” “Soren.” “Mr. Soren, if they truly wished to speak with me, they should have sought me out, not merely sent someone to fetch me around like a servant. In the entire Caribbean, the only one with the right to do so is our stingy and great Captain Armand! Because when I pledge my loyalty to him, I grant him that authority.”

Fang Senyan stated his position firmly, without hesitation. The new pirate, however, did not reply, staring somewhat dumbfounded behind Fang Senyan. It was then that a low, flat voice cut through: “Boatswain, next time you speak of me in front of others, remember to omit that word, stingy, before great.”

That voice… it was unmistakably Armand’s! Fang Senyan hadn't anticipated encountering him here and now. Startled, he turned back just as Scar-faced Henry, standing beside Armand, flung a heavy object toward him. Fang Senyan caught it deftly, realizing it was a substantial purse. A slight shake produced the clinking sound of coins within. Upon opening it, a dazzling gold light shone forth—it was packed entirely with brand-new British sovereigns, at least a hundred pieces. It was a pity these pounds were marked as currency usable only within this realm; otherwise, selling them to the Nightmare Space would fetch several thousand, nearly ten thousand, Universal Points. “Have a bit more fun,” Armand said, clearly pleased with Fang Senyan’s earlier retort. His back remained perfectly straight as he walked directly toward the Bell and Cup. Fang Senyan’s heart clenched instantly. It was obvious that the pirates’ plundered cargo had been successfully fenced, and the division of spoils among the crew was complete—otherwise, where would Armand get so many gold pounds to toss around? This also signaled that the merchants in Tortuga who dealt in illicit goods were preparing to depart, foreshadowing that the disappearance of the sexy and alluring Lady Fawk would soon be exposed.

Although he believed he had handled the matter flawlessly, and there were no advanced technologies like fingerprinting or genetic sequencing in this era, a faint unease still pricked him. To be honest, Fang Senyan’s greatest leverage was this: if the worst came to pass and Tortuga somehow possessed magical means to uncover the truth, while his act of killing the Lady Fawk might be thrust into the spotlight, Jack Sparrow’s affair with her would almost certainly be exposed too! At that point, it would be difficult to say whose offense would draw Lord Fawk’s greatest hatred, but judging by his own nature, Fang Senyan estimated that the ignominy of being cuckolded would outweigh the grief of a murdered wife. Therefore, despite the mortal stakes involved, he had acted without hesitation—after all, how could one achieve rich rewards in the Space without taking risks?

While Fang Senyan was deep in tense thought, a sudden pressure closed in beside him, and a burly figure settled down close to him. Fang Senyan turned to see a middle-aged man with grizzled hair, bearing mixed features of Indian and Caucasian ancestry. His nose hooked slightly, but his gentle eyes effectively softened the impression of cunning. This middle-aged man held a leather flask embroidered with a double-headed eagle, smiled at Fang Senyan, and then raised the flask to take a drink.

Fang Senyan was already quite practiced in handling such situations. He returned the smile and raised his own flask for a sip, reciprocating the gesture. The middle-aged man’s eyes seemed to brighten slightly, and he tentatively inquired: “Boatswain Yan from the East? The one who fought the Corpse-Rot Zombie one-on-one and actually killed its champion?”

Fang Senyan’s heart stirred; he now grasped the identity of this gray-haired man. He smiled and raised his flask in return: “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barry.” Old Barry, the second mate of the Flying Dutchman, let out a hearty laugh: “I admit I harbored some doubt about your ability to take down such a monster, but now it seems your reputation is well-deserved.”

Fang Senyan was quite honest: “I must point out a detail that many might overlook: that was a Corpse-Rot Zombie whose head had sustained a very severe injury, and its controller was absent. Otherwise, I would have been the one killed.” Old Barry nodded: “That resolves my second question. Very good, young man. Your honesty has earned my respect. To be frank, I am intensely interested in any unusual items originating from those repulsive creatures. If you happen to possess anything of that nature, believe me, you will receive quite generous compensation.”

Fang Senyan smiled. He was no mere child to be swayed by a few kind words, so he raised his left hand. On his left middle finger, he wore the Bone Ring of Decay, a piece crafted into a truly gruesome and hideous shape. This item was clearly one of the “unusual items” Old Barry described, and Fang Senyan decided to use it as a litmus test to gauge the true value of the promised “quite generous compensation.” Old Barry took Fang Senyan’s left hand and examined it closely, frowning. After a good while, he clicked his tongue appreciatively: “This appears to be fashioned from the remains of a Corpse-Rot Zombie. Although it doesn't seem of much intrinsic worth, I’ll offer you three pounds for it. How about that? This price should surely hold quite a surprise for you!”

Upon hearing the price, Fang Senyan immediately mentally labeled the old man a “beast.” He instantly understood that all the outward warmth was a façade; when it came to tangible assets, one still had to rely on Charisma as the fundamental attribute to make headway. Unfortunately, Fang Senyan’s Charisma stat was meager, clearly not enough to inspire such renowned generosity from the second mate. This pale blue ring, the Bone Ring of Decay, increased two highly practical base stats, Strength and Stamina. If he returned to the Space, it would fetch at least a thousand Universal Points. Yet Old Barry, sounding so magnanimous, offered only three pounds—and pounds that couldn't even leave this world! The magnitude of this discrepancy was as undeniable as the gap between A-cups and D-cups. Old Barry’s true nature was laid bare, requiring no further exposition.

Having identified the man before him as a seemingly generous miser, Fang Senyan’s interest waned. With a strained, artificial smile, he shook the purse Scar-faced Henry had thrown him: “Esteemed Mr. Barry, if you have any other rings similar to this, I will purchase them for four pounds apiece—however many you have!”

Even a veteran like Old Barry was momentarily flustered by Fang Senyan’s move, though his skin was dark enough that any blush was hard to detect. Now having grasped the man’s true nature, Fang Senyan dispensed with pleasantries and produced the mission item, the “Still-Beating Heart.” This strange and disgusting object immediately drew gasps of amazement from the surrounding pirates, and Old Barry’s pupils contracted as he swallowed hard. Fang Senyan stated plainly: “You are a man of vast experience, sir, having tasted more salt than we have grains of rice. You certainly know the value of this item… I’ll spare you the unnecessary words. If you cannot offer what I desire, I am confident there will be someone else who recognizes its worth.”

As he spoke, a sharp glint flashed in Fang Senyan’s eyes: “I nearly forgot to mention something else. Wacker from the Queen Anne’s Revenge also delivered a message just now, saying that the great Captain Blackbeard also wishes to have a word with me.” Old Barry’s face instantly darkened: “What exactly do you want?”

Fang Senyan shrugged: “That depends on what you have to offer.” Old Barry stared at Fang Senyan and said coldly: “Young man, aren’t you afraid of choking if your appetite is too large?”

This thinly veiled threat immediately irritated Fang Senyan. The corner of his mouth curled up in contempt as he stood up: “Very well, it seems I must go pay a visit to the respected Captain Blackbeard.”

Seeing that Fang Senyan was utterly unmoved by either soft words or hard tactics and was genuinely turning to walk toward the Queen Anne’s Revenge, Old Barry suddenly grew tense, shouting with a hint of exasperated fury: “You idiot! Blackbeard will swallow you whole, leaving not even a bone!”

Fang Senyan merely shrugged with nonchalance: “Then he’ll have to face the wrath of the furious Son of the Black Sea, Armand. After all, I am a highly competent boatswain; finding a replacement for me won't be easy.”

Faced with such stubbornness, Old Barry could only sigh and stand up: “Alright, alright, you win. Let’s step aside and discuss this.” Fang Senyan replied casually: “Of course, no problem. But I must remind you, a man’s patience is finite. You successfully tested my fragile patience and intellect once already with three pounds. I trust there won't be a repeat performance. Otherwise, believe me, you will bid this heart farewell forever.”

Old Barry’s facial muscles twitched, as if flesh had been flayed from his body. Just as Fang Senyan had figured out his character, the second mate had also grasped the nature of this damned boatswain from the East—he was the most difficult kind to deal with. Old Barry sighed in resignation, reached inside his coat, and when his hand reappeared, it held a somewhat antique, flat, flask-shaped container. ............... There will be another chapter tonight at 12 AM. See you then.