The navigation room is considered the central hub of a ship, serving as the control center for the officers on a disciplined vessel.  

But on the Fumark Vengeance, it functioned as the core backbone’s chess and card room, the middle-aged activity center.  

“The honorable doctor has arrived as well; now everyone is here.”  

Li Site said calmly.  

Around the high-end peach heartwood long table brought from the lord’s house in Blue Bay Port, people sat fully. The azure-blue silk tablecloth and some silverware decorations made it quite upscale.  

However, those seated were either as filthy and disheveled as Ren, or had a “hostile look” like Morrison.  

The shipwright, Haywood, a former expedition member under Demon God Agareth Dagon.  

The shipwright, Shadi, a former arms transporter.  

The cook, Archer, a former royal chef of the Gion Kingdom.  

The ship doctor, Micah, a former executioner and forensic expert from Dawn Port of the Arlan Empire.  

The quartermaster, Wolman, a former rebel cadre from the southern wetlands.  

The sailmaster, Ren, former vice leader of the Hungry Wolf Adventurers.  

The gunner, Morrison, of unknown background.  

The second mate, Ox, a Class One war criminal from the Mirror Sea Alliance.  

The first mate, Fen, a Class One political prisoner from the Pedan Kingdom.  

The captain, Li Site, from outer space—a cosmic being.  

“There’s no need for much chit-chat,” Li Site scratched his ear and added, “The jewelry has already been appraised, roughly valued at one hundred and twenty gold dragons. We haven’t found a channel to sell them yet, so let’s split the net money first.”  

Li Site gestured to Fen, who had already prepared the accounts and began reading mechanically. According to the old rules, anything over three hundred gold dragons requires two hundred gold dragons as public funds for normal expenses. The remaining amount was two hundred seventy-six gold dragons, giving each person twenty-five gold dragons. The leftover single gold coin would also be used for public expenses.  

As Fen finished speaking, Haywood handed out the already bundled money bags to everyone at the table. Each bag was heavy, roughly the size of a human head, containing silver coins besides gold dragons.  

Twenty-five gold dragons in this chaotic world were enough to buy a decent residence in a large city with good security. Provided one didn’t gamble wildly, debauch excessively, or consume hallucinogenic alchemical creations, they could live comfortably for five or six years.  

But everyone present had seen serious battles before. Since they were all desperados, money was only safe to spend in Heaven’s Port. Spending it all on debauchery in a few months would leave them broke. There was no obvious joy on their faces.  

After the loot was divided.  

“Anyone with suggestions or complaints about this delivery can speak up.”  

Fen placed the ledger on the table for everyone to see.  

No one spoke; the rules had been set firmly long ago.  

“Archer, any opinions?”  

Fen looked at Archer speechlessly. The main event was about to begin, yet this guy’s mind was still a blur.  

Archer, half-drunk, propped his head up drowsily and slurred, “Exterminate who? Oh… everyone’s here, just eat the food, don’t just drink.”  

Feeling somewhat sober, Archer blew into the bottle a few times, then suddenly seemed to remember something and started bawling loudly, sniffling and crying heavily.  

Li Site clicked his tongue; this was even louder than Meng Jiangnu’s wails.  

“You better rest,” Fen said helplessly, “Since no objections, this matter is settled.”  

Fen and Sven sat down, but looking at the table full of lamb, they had little appetite.  

Li Site was about to sit.  

“First mate… don’t you have anything to say?”  

Ox spoke up.  

Everyone’s faces darkened. Micah recalled what had been said earlier and was a bit stunned. Anyway, he took a sip of wine to calm his nerves first.  

“What are you saying?”  

Li Site picked up the thread, knowing the crew was confronting Sven.  

“Of course, it’s good wishes. On a happy day, you say good wishes. Since no one volunteered to be the wine commander, I’ll reluctantly take the role.”  

Ox’s massive greatsword leaned against the wall, no more than sixty centimeters away—within reach for his size.  

The so-called wine commander is the leader in drinking to prevent anyone from backing out and causing awkward silence.  

“Good! The second mate will also bring good fortune today.”  

Morrison smiled slyly, purely for amusement. He didn’t care about Sven’s mess. He had heard the Thieves’ Guild had caught a tiger man on the East Coast who had to be kept alive. The incident was huge; recently, most homicide victims were tiger men. Whether that person was Sven didn’t matter, but the problem was he concealed it. Fen probably knew too. If it all came out now, it would violate the ship’s code.  

Ren showed no expression but was inwardly delighted. He despised the Thieves’ Guild for their petty thefts and low tactics.  

“How do you want to drink?”  

Li Site was a bit overwhelmed. He had planned for Fen to reveal everything after warming up the atmosphere.  

Ox considered his words carefully, saying, “Speaking of which, Sven has been here over two months without a welcome ceremony. I’ll drink with him alone.”  

Fen and Sven’s faces immediately darkened like still water. There was no loyalty on a pirate ship; you never knew what others were thinking. Tonight, someone might really die.  

Sven lit a cigarette and calmly looked at Ox.  

Shadi, Wolman, and others remained silent. This matter indeed needed an explanation and couldn’t be brushed aside.  

“Haywood, please fetch two basins from the warehouse—the wooden kind used for smoked meat. Pour the meat into other basins.”  

Ox, as the second mate, gave the order.  

Haywood did not delay; soon he brought two large basins, each with at least ten liters capacity.  

Ox wasted no words. His method of opening the wine was extremely violent—he broke the cork and the glass neck of the bottles by hand, spilling everything into the basins.  

Dozens of bottles exploded one after another, glass shards scattered everywhere, and Ox’s hand was cut, leaving a blood trail.  

With every bottle broken, the expressions of those present grew darker.  

Finally, dozens of different fermented strong liquors were mixed together, filling the two large wooden basins halfway.  

Micah’s eyelid twitched. This was serious—they were playing for keeps. Even though he was now also a fugitive, the lawless style of these outlaws still shocked him.  

Ox pushed one basin to Sven coldly and said, “We’ll drink a round alone.”  

Then he raised the basin with one hand and drank straight from it, not spilling a drop.  

The twenty-plus seconds felt incredibly long.  

Even with Ox’s huge mouth, it took nearly half a minute to finish. He wiped his mouth, turned the basin upside down, leaving only a few drops, signaling he drank clean.  

Shadi was shocked; someone was really about to die.  

All eyes turned to Sven, who stared expressionlessly at the basin and remained silent for a few seconds.  

“What? Looking down on me? This counts as your initiation drink.”  

Ox said flatly.  

Li Site gasped. Ox’s way of speaking was ruthless. He had mentioned “three joyful occasions,” but there had to be some explanation—after all, rules were ironclad.  

“Sven, don’t spoil everyone’s fun.”  

Ren pulled a mournful face and began fanning the flames.  

Fen frowned deeply; even this brain-damaged guy’s words carried contradictions.  

“This little bowl of wine, are you afraid?”  

Ox propped one hand on the table while the other raised toward his greatsword.  

Fen was about to stand and end it all. Sven’s build was no match for Ox in a drinking contest; it was like an ant shaking a tree—better to be direct.  

But Sven stopped Fen.  

“If I’m not afraid of dying, why fear drinking?”  

Without hesitation, Sven grabbed the basin with both hands and started chugging wildly.  

Micah held his forehead—one of them was going to die, no doubt.