Just as you have your clever plan, I have a countermeasure ready. Blind Matt, however, had no idea that Fang Senyan viewed the position of Boatswain merely as a stepping stone, with absolutely no intention of staying there until retirement to collect a pension. Therefore, this proposal was perfectly aligned with Fang Senyan's goals. After paying ten English pounds, Fang Senyan secured an hour of practice with Blind Matt every morning for three consecutive days on basic footwork. Each session carried a 30% chance of improving his Basic Footwork ability, though the maximum increase could not exceed the level Blind Matt himself possessed for that skill.

Blind Matt was also eager, as he considered himself inferior to Fang Senyan in terms of organization, dispatch, and direct confrontation. Thus, this chance to practice footwork was a rare stage for him to display a strength where he could genuinely surpass Fang Senyan. Consequently, even though few pirates remained aboard the ship, he insisted Fang Senyan practice with him for an hour each morning. Fang Senyan responded with equal enthusiasm, resulting in a mutually satisfactory outcome: Fang Senyan successfully capitalized on this session’s 30% chance, elevating his Basic Footwork to level two, while Blind Matt effectively showcased Fang Senyan's clumsiness against his own nimble movements, winning admiration among the crew.

With his Basic Footwork having increased by a level, Fang Senyan managed, at last, to shore up one of his weaknesses in close combat. The three most crucial attributes for melee engagement are undoubtedly Strength, Agility, and Stamina. Strength dictates raw power and the ability to suppress an opponent during a clash; Agility reflects speed; and Stamina determines how long one can sustain a fight. For the difficulty level of this world, Fang Senyan's Strength of 12 (excluding title bonuses due to their limitations) was already considered above average, and his life value of 170 points was truly excellent. His only truly weak link was his meager 8 points in Agility.

In the real world, there is the highly philosophical Bucket Theory: a wooden bucket can only hold as much water as its shortest stave allows, not the longest. At this moment, Fang Senyan’s upgrade to Basic Footwork level two undoubtedly elevated his overall capability by a significant margin. Moreover, he still had two more practice sessions remaining with Blind Matt. If he could seize the opportunity to raise his Basic Footwork another level, it would undoubtedly prove even more beneficial for his subsequent plans.

After sorting out these minor matters, Fang Senyan boarded the ship to test-fire a flintlock, hoping to cultivate abilities such as Basic Ranged Combat. Regrettably, he showed absolutely no talent in this area; his hit rate against targets beyond five meters was abysmal. It seemed that wasting the entire inventory of the Bell and the Goblet would yield no improvement whatsoever. Kree, meanwhile, was sneaking around, trying to squeeze in a few shots just for the experience. However, the First Mate, Long Legs Roben, immediately stepped forward, sternly halting this wasteful display of public property—despite having been diligently loading the very guns Fang Senyan was testing just a minute prior.

For these pirates, the current stormy weather and overcast skies were the equivalent of paid annual leave. Most pirate captains would allow their vessels to anchor in port, letting their scallywags vent their energies to their heart’s content. The inevitable side effect was that they would spend the last farthing in their pockets on prostitutes, strong liquor, and gambling. When the weather cleared, these ragged wretches, too poor to afford trousers, would howl with high morale and launch themselves toward the wealth aboard merchant ships.

Thus, even the strict Armand could only drill his crew for about an hour each morning before letting them scramble off to the taverns and gambling dens. Otherwise, these fierce and crude men would revolt against such “tyranny” and desert. After all, this was a period of “economic recovery” for pirates, and pirate ships were constantly recruiting; a daring and capable veteran pirate was always a welcome asset.

Staying alone on the empty pirate ship held little appeal for Fang Senyan, so he disembarked, intending to try his luck at the taverns, perhaps hoping to stumble upon a hidden quest or meet a pirate whose disposition matched his own. Unfortunately, after wasting two full hours, he realized the futility of the endeavor—it was akin to trying to win the grand prize in a lottery. It was then that Fang Senyan suddenly recalled the worn-out crucifix he had received from Old Barry’s transaction, supposedly an heirloom belonging to some Alchemical Master. He had initially dismissed this freebie somewhat, as Old Barry was hardly a generous man, and Fang Senyan’s aggressive squeezing of his profits had clearly left a sour impression; consequently, Fang Senyan hadn't placed much importance on this supposed Alchemist. However, with nothing else to do during this lull, Fang Senyan decided to check it out just to pass the time.

Guided by a pirate, Fang Senyan trod along the mottled flagstone path toward the eastern end of the harbor. Due to the wind and rain, the road, which looked pleasantly flat on a sunny day, had turned into a swamp teeming with stones. If one wasn't careful while walking, a foul, muddy-yellow stream would suddenly spurt out from the cracked flagstones beneath their feet, splashing them into a sorry state—not to mention the carriages that passed through.

The deep ruts worn into some of the stones indicated that the main thoroughfare in the port hadn't seen maintenance in at least twenty years. Clearly, the Foulke family, who ruled this free port, devoted no effort to maintaining or repairing the docks. This suggested that the decline of Port Tortuga was no accident; without the solid foundation laid by their ancestors, merely surviving to this point would have been a miracle.

Although alchemy often brings to mind various materials and potions, this is merely one branch of the discipline. The origin of alchemy was humanity's yearning for gold, that beautiful and rare precious metal. Thus, the ultimate dream and research objective of every alchemist was to discover the possibility of transforming base metals—such as lead, iron, and copper—into gold. Along the long path of alchemy, the foundations of modern chemistry were established.

Ahead of Fang Senyan stood a house typical of an alchemist’s dwelling: numerous windows designed to allow toxic gases to dissipate rapidly, and a pointed roof that maximized attic space, allowing for the storage of more materials. The mottled black walls surrounding it suggested frequent fires, though it seemed the speed of extinguishing them matched the speed of ignition.

Fang Senyan knocked on the sturdy, heavy oak door before him. There was no reply, only the sound of flapping wings, and then the door opened silently, completely lacking the expected “creak.” A barn owl, perched in a beechwood cage just inside, greeted him, tilting its head and fixing Fang Senyan with a stare from its emerald-green, vertically slitted eyes. Fang Senyan also noted the large size of the room; beside him, a table was heaped with various used crystal beakers, test tubes, and distillation flasks, alongside half-finished cups of coffee and a plate that seemed to bear the residue of dried meat sauce. Thankfully, there were no flies buzzing about—otherwise, one would have to salute the host’s remarkably robust digestive system.

An old man wearing a pointed black hat sat behind a workbench five meters away. He looked up at the sound of the knock, his gaze penetrating the dirty test tubes, the boiling green liquid, and the lit alcohol lamp, finally settling on Fang Senyan’s face. Clearly, Fang Senyan’s pitiful charm had no positive effect. The wizened old man, face wrinkled like a dried prune, sternly declared:

"Get out! This place welcomes no rude or foolish folk!"

Fang Senyan resignedly pulled out the worn crucifix, dangling it from his finger. The old man paused, extending a hand as if to verify the cross’s authenticity. After a long moment, he said impatiently:

"It seems Old Barry owed you a favor... but he apparently neglected to tell you he also owes Mr. Bacon, the Great Alchemist, ten pounds, correct?"

Fang Senyan blinked in surprise:

"What does that have to do with me?"

Bacon said coldly:

"Since Old Barry gave you this crucifix, it signifies that he will no longer be frequenting my establishment. That debt becomes a bad debt, naturally falling upon you to repay."

Fang Senyan started to offer a rebuttal, but he quickly realized the futility of it. Before this eccentric old man, there were only two paths: turn around and leave, or obediently hand over ten pounds. To argue further might cost him even the chance to pay the ten pounds. After parting with a significant sum, Fang Senyan finally earned the right to Alchemical services.

At Bacon's gesture, Fang Senyan sat down on a nearby stool. On the wall beside him hung a rather bizarre mural: a sun with an evil grin and upturned whiskers, while a string of small bells hung from the crescent moon in the lower right corner. In the world of alchemy, the sun symbolizes gold, and the moon represents silver; the painting’s meaning thus symbolized the two ultimate pursuits of the alchemists' world. Just as Fang Senyan was wondering if sitting on the stool was wasting time, black smoke, looking as if it were burning, suddenly billowed up from the messy table before him, and fiery letters began to etch themselves onto the tabletop.