piratefiction Chapter 271 5000 pounds
Chapter 271 5000 pounds
Chapter 271 5000 pounds
"That's right, it's the 'Ice Admiral' who likes to lecture his crew."
The bartender behind the counter nodded repeatedly:
"It's said that every month, a group of sailors disembark from the Golden Dream because they can't accept having to attend classes every day after becoming pirates."
Cyril smiled and was about to speak when he was interrupted by a rough voice from behind him:
"That's the 'Iceberg General,' you know. What's wrong with going to class? How can you go to bed without going to class first?"
None of the good-for-nothings on the "Yellow Dream" were able to go from attending class to sleeping with Edwina.
Noticing the bartender take a half step back and the fact that several customers who had been gathered around the bar moved further away, Cyril turned around curiously to look at the person who had suddenly spoken to him.
He was a tall man with black boxing gloves on his hands. He had a stubble on his face, rough skin, and a dark complexion, clearly someone who spent a lot of time at sea.
After seeing the other person's appearance clearly, a wanted poster that he had seen before quickly popped into Cyril's mind:
"The Great Shark" Jörg?
"The Great Shark" Jörg glanced at him, his gaze lingering slightly before he tilted his chin up slightly and said:
"Yes, you know me too?"
Cyril nodded slightly: "Yes, the third boatswain of the 'Deep Sea Admiral,' bounty 5200 pounds."
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"The Great Shark" Jörg's expression froze for a moment, making his already tanned skin appear even darker.
"What, you want my bounty?"
He gave a soft hum, then stared at Sirion and said, enunciating each word clearly:
"Painter Randolph Carter, of unknown origin, was just last week wanted by the Violent Church in the Rothschild Islands and surrounding waters, with a bounty of £5000."
Cyril frowned, not because he was wanted by the Church of Storms—he already knew about it and had conveniently used the connection between himself and the portrait to destroy all the wanted posters posted in Bayam.
What upset him was that the Church of Storms had set a bounty of only 5000 pounds for him, which was exactly 200 pounds less than the bounty offered by the "Great Shark" Jörg in front of him.
He's a Sequence 6 pirate, yet his bounty isn't even as high as a Sequence 7 pirate.
Thinking of this, he subtly glanced at the black boxing glove on the other person's right hand... its spiritual radiance surpassed that of the "Giant Shark."
Jörg himself possessed an even stronger, Sequence 6 level artifact, possibly from the "Black Emperor" pathway.
Noticing Cyril's gaze as he examined his gloves, Jörg narrowed his eyes, exuding a tyrannical and dangerous aura.
"What, you want to make a name for yourself at sea by defeating me?"
Cyril shook his head and smiled: "How could that be?"
"If I want to make a name for myself, I'd at least choose your captain, Vice Admiral Hal Constantine, instead of a sailor whose bounty is only 200 pounds higher than mine."
"What's the difference between a £200 bounty increasing or not?"
"Ha...you have a lot of courage," Jörg said with a forced smile.
The surrounding patrons immediately moved away from Cyrien and Yorg after they revealed their identities to each other, and then watched the show with great interest.
Those who can get a bounty of several thousand pounds are all formidable characters; they don't usually get to see this kind of excitement.
"This isn't courage, this is self-confidence."
As he spoke, Sirion raised his glass and clinked it with the other person's.
Jörg snorted coldly, turned his gaze to the bartender who had already shrunk behind the wine cabinet, and said in a deep voice:
"A glass of malt beer."
"4.4p."
The bartender stammered as he took a clean glass from under the bar and filled it to the brim with beer from the barrel.
As the tension between Cyril and Jorg dissipated, the once quiet bar became lively again.
However, this lively atmosphere did not last long. As another customer stepped in, the atmosphere, which had just become a little lively, dropped to freezing point again.
Cyril and Jorge simultaneously turned their heads to look in the direction of the bar's entrance. A tall, dark-skinned, muscular man with curly hair resembling marbles was walking towards them.
Sitting on the other side of the bar, Jörg said in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft:
"Iron Maivitt, adjutant to Admiral Señor, a pirate with a bounty of 6000 pounds."
"You just complained that the 200-pound difference in bounty was too small, now you can try the 1000-pound one."
"Iron" McVitie paused, his gaze sweeping back and forth between "Shark" Jorge and Cyril, before he said coldly:
"You two can come up here, and I'll show you just how big the difference is between a 1000-pound bounty and nothing else."
Cyril shrugged, turned around, leaned against the bar, and drank his drink.
If it were just him and Jörg, a fight might have broken out, but with the addition of "Iron" Maiviti, and with all three sides on guard, there was absolutely no possibility of a fight.
Jörg also understood this, and he and Cyril sat on opposite sides of the bar, silently drinking their drinks.
"Two cowards."
Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, Maiviti spat lightly and then walked straight to the back door of the bar.
Cyril looked at the bartender curiously: "Do you offer other services here?"
Before the bartender could answer, Jörg, sitting on the other side, spoke up first:
"Every pirate has its own distribution channels. You can't get in without a recommendation from someone inside, even if you're a 'painter' worth 5000 pounds."
The bartender stood to the side with his head down like a quail, not daring to say a word.
Agreeing with Jörg would offend the unknown "painter" with a bounty of £5000, but if he said he could also recommend him, he would offend "The Great Shark" Jörg.
Cyril took in the bartender's conflicted expression, shook his head helplessly, downed his drink in one gulp, and then looked at Jörg and said:
"Actually, I wouldn't mind increasing my bounty by another 200 pounds, or even more."
"You're welcome to give it a try," Jörg scoffed dismissively.
As soon as he finished speaking, Cyril suddenly felt an irresistible urge to punch the other person.
It wasn't the hatred and urge to attack brought about by "provocation," but rather the distortion of his intentions by the other party's language!
The next second, he threw the empty wine glass in his hand at Jörg, but the other man easily dodged it.
"Very good, you have a lot of courage," Jörg praised with a cold smile.
Cyril felt a surge of impulse rising within him—an urge to punch his opponent and a greedy desire for the bounty on their body.
He frowned, suppressing the impulse and greed in his heart.
...It's not just "distortion," but also the power to "corrode" the mind. The combination of these elements is what makes me so easily generate negative, dark emotions and impulses.
As the thought crossed his mind, a black gauntlet rapidly enlarged before his eyes.
Just before the approaching fist touched him, his figure suddenly became ethereal, tinged with dazzling starlight.
boom!
Jörg's right hand, clad in a black boxing glove, pierced through his body and slammed into the bar counter.
The bar counter was knocked back half a meter by the impact, and the spot where it was hit shattered instantly, sending wood chips flying everywhere.
Cyril glanced back at the smashed bar behind him, his figure solidified, and then he snapped his fingers.
Snapped!
Just as Jörg was about to pull back his strength and turn around to throw another punch, his foot suddenly slipped, and his body fell backward uncontrollably.
Before he fell completely, he braced himself with one hand, used his back and waist to twist his body, and as he straightened up, his right hand, clad in a black boxing glove, swung at Sirion again.
Cyril shook his head silently; using magic to deal with an extraordinary being was still too much of a stretch.
The moment Jörg punched him, his body turned into a crude, pale yellow paper figure, shattered into pieces by the violent force of the punch from the gauntlet.
Suddenly, Cyril appeared beside Jorg, a phantom book slowly turning in his eyes, as he snapped his fingers.
The next second, a blinding light suddenly appeared, illuminating every corner of the bar.
Under the sudden, intense light, everyone in the bar, including Jörg, was briefly blinded, followed by chaos.
This street is Bayam's largest underground trading market. The people who appear in the bars here are either pirates, bounty hunters, or official fishing agents. Everyone here is someone you need to be wary of and guard against.
The sudden blindness caused the already thin trust among the people in the bar to plummet to an all-time low. They either picked up weapons or condensed extraordinary abilities in their hands.
Jörg was undoubtedly more nervous than the other drinkers affected by the "flash." He was not the kind of extraordinary person with a strong spiritual intuition, and the temporary blindness caused by the bright light was fatal to him.
He tried to listen to the sounds around him, but the commotion among the patrons affected his hearing, and he could only tense up and adopt a defensive stance, while tightening his right hand, which was covered in a boxing glove.
They attempted to use the power of this magical item to "distort" Cyrien's intentions, the target and direction of his attack.
His attempt failed, as Cyril had already left the spot while creating the "Flash".
Behind Jorg, Cyrien clasped his hands together and conjured a heavy, sturdy, and sharp two-handed greatsword from pure dawn.
The "Sword of Dawn" from the "Knights of Dawn"!
call!
The moment the clear sound of something cutting through the air rang out, Jörg, who had assumed a defensive stance, lunged forward without the slightest hesitation.
"what!"
Having dodged the slash of "Dawn's Sword" from Cyrien, Jorg suddenly screamed in mid-air and then fell straight down.
As Cyril watched Jorg's figure being thrown away, the flash of lightning in his eyes faded, and he charged forward again with his sword drawn.
Pfft!
The sound of flesh being ripped apart rang out as the silver-white "Sword of Dawn" pierced through "The Great Shark" Jörg's vest and chest, embedding itself in the bar floor.
Seeing that "Great Shark" Jörg was powerless to resist and his life was rapidly slipping away, Cyril nodded expressionlessly.
Although the battle was short, he exerted all his strength, aside from using his extraordinary demigod-level abilities that were not recorded.
The battle began when he created a "flash" that temporarily blinded everyone in the bar.
First, she used "battle hypnosis" to make Jörg temporarily ignore the use of the magical item in his hand. Then, she took advantage of his sensitivity and tension to sound after losing his sight to make him make the wrong judgment. Then, she took the opportunity to use the Interrogator's Ring to attack his relatively weak mind. Finally, she swung her sword to finish him off.
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