The Ultimate Evolution

[ You received a challenge to a duel from key storyline character, Will Turner! ]

[ Do you accept? ]

Sheyan hesitated briefly before investigating further.

"Would I be penalized if I refuse?"

The nightmare imprint answered him with a blunt answer.

[ Authority inadequacy, unable to check. ]

Sheyan then contemplated carefully. Since his reputation amongst the pirates was nearly ‘Revered’, while Will Turner was currently a puny apprentice. An ill.u.s.trious individual calling him into question would leave him in terrible shape, but for a random civilian questioning him? That was essentially worthless.

With this notion, Sheyan selected to reject. Indeed, there wasn’t a penalty, and the reason was probably due to the vast disparity between their reputations.

When Will Turner perceived that his challenge was refused, his expression turned ugly as he glared at Sheyan and declared seriously.

"If you dare to have designs on Elizabeth, I will personally drill this sword into your heart!"

After concluding, he stormed off without looking back. Sheyan sighed in his heart. This incident with Will Turner was simply out of his expectations. He wasn’t a G.o.d afterall, not everything would be smooth sailing, not everyone would acknowledge him. Besides, Will Turner’s feedback was still within the realms of acceptable.

On the contrary, if he treated Will Turner as a problem, then Chris would be like a scourge. A contestant like him understood everything clearly, and understood more about him than other contestants. If he harbored this grudge, he would become an underlying menace to Sheyan’s plans!

A problem could be endured, but if he didn’t eliminate a scourge, it could become an immense worry binding his heart!

This was certainly not a situation Sheyan desired. Thinking of that, Sheyan then inquired about Chris’s shop location from the two marines, before he departed with his subordinates.

For a brat like Chris, he definitely couldn’t spare him a breather to regroup. Otherwise a brat who had painstakingly frequent the pirates of the caribbean world for so long, would absolutely be capable of retaliating harshly.

Though the majority of Sheyan’s crew and him were first time visitors to Port Royal, but never ever forget, Philips and comrades had been the direct forces under Norrington; ones who had served at Port Royal before. Though a mere firstline marine, he was like a regional boss in Port Royal previously. Before they left, he had already divulged a detailed report to Sheyan, allowing Sheyan to be exceedingly clear to the snake paths and rat holes of this place.

Of course, Sheyan wouldn’t foolishly storm into Chris’s shop to create a ruckus. That would only provide an excuse for Norrington’s marines who maintained the peace of the port. There are many ways to strike down an enemy, where robbing one’s life being the most direct one. Excluding that, there would be many methods to achieve the same objective.

In lieu of such an inconvenient situation to act, Sheyan intended to utilize another method to incite Chris to throw himself into the streets. Right now, he needed to employ a professional adept at such methods.

Strolling through a lane constructed with fragments of pebbles, Sheyan led his group towards a wet market of Port Royal. One had to admit, the dirty and disorderly image of this place was in stark contrast with the beautiful and tidy portrayal of Port Royal.

Upon approaching the place, an a.s.sailing pungent and fishy stench filled the air, were muddy black waters stagnated between the cracks of floor bricks. Pale fish scales reeking of blood and water littered the floor, as they resorted to tip toes while checking the landing spot of every step they made; preventing themselves from stepping into a nightmare like filth.

After squeezing through a mult.i.tude of congested crowd, the continued pa.s.sing by fish stalls after fish stalls; with many casting mistrust and wary glances at them. This place probably experienced thieves and robbers frequently.

Eventually, they arrived before a room at the cleanest and tidiest region of the wet market. Sheyan gestured with his gaze towards the experienced and knowledgeable Ol’Seadog. Ol’Seadog nodded, and returned a look to Sheyan. Following that, Canbi very bluntly stomped his feet against the semi-concealed door.

The style of brute forcing the door open was undoubtedly, immensely effective. Instantaneously, several individuals who were gambling within leapt up in shock. Only after clarifying the newcomers weren’t government officers or red-white uniform marines, did their boldness flare up.

Some slapped the table and overturned chairs, while others revealed their sabers strapped to their waist. Their face br.i.m.m.i.n.g with viciousness as they swaggered towards the uninvited guests.

"Hoi! This the Deadman’s Residence, are y’all seeking death? Hand over your guineas and scram!"

Soon after, they stood rigidly where they were, as three icy musket barrels aimed towards their foreheads. As compared to pirates who killed without blinking, these hoodlums were far lacking in courage. Ol’Seadog shrugged his shoulders and urged.

"Ye darlings, yer fortunes be thrivin’. I don’t wish to stain me new clothes with blood, as me mood be wonderful. Where be yer owner Wilson? I have matters fer him."

Wilson was currently attending to a fish stall not too far away. Under the iron grips of Norrington, even hoodlums had to don a professional ident.i.ty to disguise themselves. As for Wilson, he would extort fishes daily from the market tenants around as ‘protection fees’, and used these extorted fishes to sell them for his own profits. Hence, when his teary faced underling told him about others looking for him, he hastily rushed back.

"It’s you? Canbi? Your b.a.l.l.s aren’t small eh. Though Norrington is out combating the pirates, he should be coming back anytime soon. Aren’t you leaving, do you really wish to be hung on those gibbets by the reefs?"

Canbi rolled his eyes and replied.

"Cut yer bullc.r.a.p, a task fer hundred guineas; yer up for it?"

Upon hearing ‘hundred guineas’, the little hooligans on scene immediately revealed curious glances; like dogs catching a whiff of bones. Canbi impatiently hurled out a purse of coins, with its glistening yellow gold coins pouring out.

"Twenty guineas fer the advance, eighty guineas after completion."

Wilson swallowed his saliva, as he stroked the glossy and cooling gold coins with his hand. One could observe he was fighting hard with his willpower and self-restraint, as he voiced reluctantly.

"You should be aware that I don’t kill for a living."

Ol’Seadog interrupted with a hoa.r.s.e voice.

"n.o.body be askin’ ye to kill. An owner of a shop has offended us, me cap’n reckons there be no need fer his business to continue."

Wilson was roused.

"Which shop?"

"The tenth on Midden street, be known as the Conviction Trading Company."

Ol’Seadog glanced at Sheyan before continuing.

Wilson recollected his thoughts, before grabbing up the coin purse and laughing hysterically.

"Fine! There are only 2-3 trading companies I fear, I’ll take on this sc.u.m."

***************

Presently, Chris was feeling tremendously afraid. He had never expected that when encountering Sheyan again, it would practically be like a mouse encountering a cat! The relations and network he had painstakingly cultivated for so long, had been simply played down in light sketches by Sheyan!

Recalling that scenario, the more Chris felt that Sheyan was enshrouded in unfathomable mysteries; impossible for him to rival against!

As for now, his only consolation was that his relations.h.i.+p with Will Turner had deepened by a level.

Moreover, when that handsome character had seen his crestfallen self, he even proactively offered consolation. If those pack of vile contestants dared to conjure up a ruckus, Will Turner would surely a.s.sist him; hence, Chris was feeling rather comforted from that thought.

After a series of deliberating, Chris still believed Sheyan ultimately wouldn’t resort to violence within Port Royal itself; because once he did, the wrath of rapidly dispatched marines wouldn’t be worth incurring. Besides, his shop had always been paying taxes to the governor punctually, and he had to acknowledged that Norrington was indeed an individual of order and martial might. Thus, the safety of Port Royal had always been splendid.

Just when Chris had calmed himself down, a sudden loud cras.h.i.+ng pierced in from outside. His heart instantly tightened, as he hurriedly sprinted out. Instead, there were several cries echoing in from outside. "He killed a man, he killed a man!"

Chris’s heart immediately throbbed with fear. His vision darkened as he tiptoed out, observing that in his shop, the most expensive Eastern Porcelain had been smashed into fragments. The shop attendant he hired was standing by the side, and s.h.i.+vering uncontrollably. Furthermore, a man laid face down before him, with blood flowing out of his head; quickly forming into a puddle.

When the shop attendant noticed Chris, he instantly flew to him as though looking at his knight in s.h.i.+ning armour. With a trembling voice, he pleaded.

"I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t kill anyone! He fell himself."

A crowd had gathered in by now. As the saying goes, the potential of gossips is not differentiated by gender, age or ethnicity. Individuals within the crowd incessantly pointed and discussed the scene, as though this was a rarely seen scenario in Port Royal itself. The fury acc.u.mulated in Chris’s heart finally exploded forth, as he bellowed.

"Get out, get out. Everyone get out of my shop!"

Yet moments later, two red-white uniform marines, one plumpy one skinny, marched in. Their faces were expressionless as they declared.

"Mr Chris, someone just reported to the magistrate about an accusation of smuggled goods in your shop, alongside suspicions of murder. Please follow me on a trip to the magistrate’s office for interrogation. Everything that you say right now, can be used against you in trial!"