William had already learned from Ward about a small town frequented by the Redbeard Pirate Crew for rest. After making preparations, he went alone to the town's tavern and checked in.
His appearance had changed significantly. His hair was much longer, and he had grown a beard. Gone were his habits of keeping his clothing neat and tidy—now his attire looked rather disheveled. His collar and cuffs were stained with wine, and there was a small burn hole at the hem of his shirt. Even the weapon at his waist had been swapped for a curved cutlass common among pirates.
For reasons unknown—perhaps due to his "Robust" talent or some other factor—William had recently grown taller, now standing over 1.9 meters. At a glance, it was hard to associate him with his former self.
In this world, taverns often doubled as inns, attracting all sorts of people from sailors to merchants. They were hubs of information, bustling with individuals from all walks of life. When William first arrived, the Redbeard Pirate Crew hadn't yet come to town, but from the conversations of the patrons, he confirmed Ward's information was accurate. He patiently waited for nearly half a month.
One morning, as William woke in his room, he had a strong feeling that the Redbeard Pirate Crew had finally arrived.
The inn's soundproofing was poor, and the tavern was almost always noisy. Whether it was late at night or early in the morning, the din of drunken revelry persisted. But today was different.
After a quick tidy-up, William stepped out of his room and descended the stairs to the tavern's ground floor. As expected, a group of rugged men exuding an air of menace was drinking at the bar.
A towering man, nearly two meters tall, with a massive build that made his oversized shirt look like a tight fit, sat alone at the bar. His sturdy frame made the high wooden stool seem like a small bench.
This man's face was covered in rough features, with a dense ring of needle-like red beard framing his face.
The barkeeper cautiously served this obvious leader a drink. Despite his coarse appearance, the man's drinking manners were surprisingly refined. He casually nodded to the barkeeper, picked up the delicate glass—seemingly too dainty for his large frame—and sipped his drink slowly rather than gulping it down.
None of the other patrons dared to show any displeasure at this man monopolizing the bar. The usual rowdy drunkards shrank into their corners, speaking in hushed tones. The tavern had lost its usual lively atmosphere. This shift in mood confirmed for William that the Redbeard Pirate Crew had indeed arrived.
William's intuition told him that this man was likely Gin, the first mate of the Redbeard Pirate Crew and its second-in-command.
Gin was known as the right-hand man of "Redbeard" Barbarossa. Despite his fearsome appearance, he was reputed to be a meticulous thinker who managed the crew's affairs as Barbarossa's steward.
Gin had brought five trusted subordinates with him. These were seasoned pirates, experienced and sharp. They occupied two tables near the bar, looking relaxed but sitting in positions that allowed them to watch each other's backs.
From the tavern entrance, their tables were partially obscured by the tavern's central pillar. This setup allowed them to observe anyone entering while staying relatively hidden from first glances.
The pirates varied in height and build—some tall, some stout—but they all shared a fierce demeanor. Each carried visible weapons, from curved blades to axes, and a couple even had pistols holstered at their waists. None made any effort to hide their armaments.
The tavern owner, wearing a servile expression, scurried about with his staff, catering to the pirates' demands without protest.
Pirates, after all, were still human. They didn't enjoy living in desolate places. They plundered to enrich their lives and wouldn't necessarily raze every settlement they visited.
The town's tavern owner was well aware of the Redbeard Crew's reputation. Although their visits inevitably caused losses, as long as he avoided provoking them, he knew he could escape the wrath of their fearsome first mate.
But pirates were always synonymous with trouble.
Three burly men pushed open the tavern doors, scanning the room before heading straight for the bar.
The tavern owner grimaced but dared not stop them, as they too looked fierce, with curved blades at their waists.
"Are you Gin, the first mate of the Redbeard Pirate Crew?" one of the burly men asked as they approached the bar.
One of Gin's men, lounging in a chair, lazily stretched out a leg to block their path. The apparent leader of the group turned and asked directly.
Gin turned his head to size them up briefly before returning to his drink. In a calm voice, he asked, "What do you want with me?"
"We want to join your crew."
"If you want to join, go to the docks and talk to our crew there. Why come to me?"
The leader of the trio gritted his teeth. "Your men at the docks said the crew isn't taking new members, so…"
"So, you decided to bother me, the first mate?" Gin finished his drink, smacked his lips as if savoring the taste, and pushed the empty glass to the barkeeper for a refill. Without much interest, he said, "Everyone wants to join a strong crew—to survive, to get rich. But tell me, why should we take you?"
"My companions and I are skilled fighters! We've killed before!"
Gin scoffed. "Skilled fighters? Everyone claims that. A real skilled fighter is someone who survives a few sea battles. As for killing… every single person on my crew has killed."
The leader's face flushed with shame and anger as Gin continued, "I won't say I'm not giving you a chance. We just lost a crewmate, so there's an open spot. You want it? Prove who among you deserves it."
Unnoticed by most, William had silently approached the trio from behind and overheard this exchange.
One of the men in front turned at the sound of William's footsteps. Irritated from Gin's remarks, he barked, "Get lost!"
As soon as he turned back, his scalp stung as William grabbed a handful of his hair.
William pulled hard, forcing the man to stumble backward. Seizing the moment, William kicked the back of the man's knee, making him kneel. Holding the man's head back with his left hand, William raised his right fist, knuckles aimed at the man's throat.
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