Ding Ling, Ding Ling!

    With the ringing of the bell, a drunken sailor rushed out of the door of the tavern and stumbled against acharin.

    Acharin stepped back in disgust.

    The sailor opened his bleary eyes, determined that he had not hit the black-and-white big man''s dress, and began to lift his sleeves: "don''t you have eyes?"

    Acharin reluctantly pulled out his belt and showed the leather holster on his back waist.

    The sailor woke up most of the time: "yes... I''m sorry, sir."

    "Don''t you have eyes?"

    "I''m sorry! I''m sorry!"

    "Get out."

    The sailor rolled briskly. Acharin brushed off his silk shirt and pushed open the wooden door of the tavern.

    Ding Ling, Ding Ling!

    Noisy, dark and dirty, port pubs all over the world are mostly carved out of a mold of chaos, because its guests are sailors.

    Acharin rubbed the greasy floor and looked up at the scenery of the tavern.

    The huge hall is about two hundred square meters, with Burning Fireplaces on both sides and disorderly round tables in the middle.

    There are candles on the table. The dim candlelight and orange fireplace fire are the only light source in the hall. They are torn by human shadows, and there are shadows everywhere.

    Those shadows are places where people hide dirty things. Some gamble, some sell stolen goods, and some sell intelligence. If you observe carefully, you can even hear the groans of prostitutes and see the excitement of white flowers.

    The brightest part of the tavern is the bar.

    Near the fireplace on one side, there are rows of candles on the arc-shaped high cabinet, and there are high footed round stools on the outside. Most of them are empty, with only a few, sitting alone.

    Acharin whistled, avoided the red faced drunks all the way, and sat by the bar with a belt.

    "A cup of Bledsoe, sir."

    The strong tavern owner banged down the huge wine barrel and hammered it on the high cabinet. It was full of sound and evil shape: "there is no sour and chirping dirt. Only the Hicks in the new world and the French pigs across the Strait will put chicken tails in the sacred wine glass!"

    "Buckley''s right!" the drunkards in the hall croaked. "To Buckley, this glass is free!"

    "Long live the French pigs!"

    "Cheers!"

    Gudu gudu cheers to the whole audience. Acharin heard two flops and fell to the ground. Then someone had a fight over whether to help or who would pay the bill. At the opening of the scene, the buyer must leave his hand. From the boss to the customer, no one tried to stop the fight in front of him.

    Acharin awkwardly loosened a button: "boss, what do you have here?"

    "Malt beer!" Barkley patted the half man high barrel at his feet. "If you want something, we also have bread, salted fish, bacon, leg meat and wheat bran broth."

    Acharin popped a shilling: "you see the arrangement."

    "Francesca!"

    Barkley shouted at the back kitchen and immediately came out with a freckled aunt dressed in black and white maid clothes.

    Her arms were thicker than acharin''s, and she was carrying a huge wooden wine cup and a head sized wine bucket, which crashed into the high cabinet.

    WOW!

    She lifted the cover of the barrel lightly and easily, poured a glass full of malt beer and pushed it.

    The wooden cup slid down the bar and stopped in front of acharin. Francesca shouted, "here''s the wine!" then there were four more clangs.

    The bread is hard and moldy; Salted fish stink, oil and salt stick; Bacon and leg meat are burnt. Wheat bran broth looks delicious. Acharin tries to sip it, but it tastes like a shocking murder

    The salt seller was killed!

    He thanked Francesca with effort and dignity, tried his best to keep his eyes from paying attention to the long slide on the bar, which was a mixture of ash and pulp, and began to taste the wine.

    Thank God, malt beer is really for people to drink, not to poison anyone!

    He drank a little and had nowhere to put his hands and feet. He waited for a long time before a wild man with brown hair, a long nose and a big mustache sat next to him.

    "Buckley, fresh beer," the man shouted at the bar.

    Buckley stared at him for a long time, clenched his teeth and said, "Amman, Southampton doesn''t welcome French people these days!"

    "War is the business of those rich businessmen, isn''t it?" Amman didn''t think so. He took three pence from his pocket and lined it on the high cabinet.

    Buckley angrily put away his pence and said fiercely, "for the sake of regular customers, get out of my tavern after drinking. Otherwise, I don''t guarantee that you will go out alive tonight."

    "Have a drink and go, my old friend."

    Francesca drew a gourd and pushed a glass of fresh beer for Amman. She dusted the dirty towel and ran to the hall to clean up the table. The bar became a lonely corner again. Even if it was bright, she still couldn''t get any attention.

    Amman took out half a glass of fresh beer, took a comfortable breath, and suddenly said, "former... Mr. governor, I hope you have brought me a surprise. As you can see, Southampton at this time... Doesn''t welcome French."

    There was no change in acharin''s face.

    "The English are organizing a trap."

    "Huh?"

    "In two days, the family will receive information that Drake chamber of Commerce will transport tens of thousands of pounds of goods to Spain along the seam between Celtic Sea and Cantabrian. It''s a trap."

    Acharin held the glass in his hands and covered most of his face.

    "The reality is that Lorraine Drake leads an empty ship, seven brigantines, which can attack and defend. That fool villen can''t catch him. The real cargo ship team is in his ten o''clock direction, 25 kilometers away from him. This is the longest distance of Karak lookout. Brigantine can''t see that far."

    "This..."

    "This batch of goods was ordered by the Duke of Victoria in the Basque region, including a batch of ancient Roman gold and other luxury goods. English businessmen did not dare to neglect it, so they set up this trap. Their purpose is to lead villen away. They can not only empty the Cantabrian route for delivery, but also set up ambushes in the Celtic Sea and attack the family fleet, so as to win more than less."

    Amman listened and gasped: "is your news... Accurate?"

    "I''m on the butterfly! Don''t I know if Lorraine Drake''s fleet has any cargo?"

    "This is the key to the problem." Amman looked at acharin calmly. "Acharin, you are now a sailor of Drake chamber of Commerce and a traitor to the family. Why should you betray your employer?"

    "Employer? If it weren''t for that fool Willen who hurt me, I need to work for the British?" acharin said with hatred on his face. "Do you know what contract I signed?"

    "What contract?"

    "A self redemption contract! In two years, no matter how well I do or how well I perform, Lorraine Drake doesn''t need to give me a penny. On his ship, I''m a laughing stock. Even ordinary sailors can yell at me!"

    "This situation must change." acharin took a deep breath, "Take the news back to the family immediately and ask the family to arrange for villen to make up his mind. This time, we must capture the butterfly! When you hang Lorraine Drake, I will be free! With this great merit, I will be reused when I return to the family. At that time, the account with villen... We will calculate it slowly!"