Early winter.  

In a tavern on the outskirts of the city, the wall pillars and beams were all made of elm wood, aged and now faintly blackened and yellowed.  

In the humid environment influenced by the monsoon of the East Coast, the campfire burning by the hearth crackled with sharp sparks.  

The rich sea-fishy smell emanated from the leather leg guards, polished iron weapons gleamed with a sharp luster, and the rough body was covered with bullet holes and fierce scars. The outlaw’s fierce eyes reflected the flames.  

The waiter’s fingers trembled, the woman hid her face and wept, and the tavern owner looked deathly pale.  

All the customers had already fled in panic, avoiding the vicious bandits.  

The Black Sails Pirate Crew, a notorious organization on the East Coast of the Beima Principality, was working here.  

Captain Li Site followed three principles in his work, which allowed him to survive in this unpredictable alien world for ten years without external modification tools and without speaking the language.  

The first was: If you’re not ruthless, you can’t stand firm.  

When working, presentation matters. It doesn’t matter if you’re truly ruthless; what matters is making others feel you are ruthless.  

His weapon was a blood-stained flail. The wooden handle was capped with an iron shell, with chains linking two iron balls, each half the size of a human head and covered in spikes. He used two because Li Site believed it was a noble area-of-effect weapon—a secondary weapon used to deal with some minions.  

His primary weapon was a long-handled war hammer over a meter long, standing on one side. The chisel tip on the back of the large hammer was sharp enough to mine like a pickaxe, but most of the time Li Site used it to harvest other things. He called it “Frostblood Cuckoo’s Cry,” more sorrowful than sorrow itself—too painful.  

He thought his outfit was also fashionably intimidating: a beard long enough to be braided into a trendy style, sharp short hair standing like steel needles, a finger-thick scar crossing his nose almost piercing both ears—once nearly split open by an axe strike. He wore lightweight leather armor, linen pants, and a pair of black oversized leather boots.  

“Your loan plus interest, and my personal labor fee, totals seventeen gold dragons.”  

Li Site was tall, about two meters, with a hoarse voice. Years of exposure to sea wind and sun had roughened his skin. He had played the role of a ruthless outlaw so long that he even believed he was one.  

According to the Saint Arlan calendar, in 1277, a minting law was passed stating anyone could bring gold or silver bars to the mint to have them minted into coins free of charge, and could immediately exchange them for coins of equivalent value.  

In the Giant Wall battle, the Beima Kingdom lost to the Arlan Empire of the Western Continent. Although it was reduced to a principality with limited autonomy, it was fully integrated into the empire’s monetary system, relinquishing the huge profits of minting taxes and thus being long restrained.  

One Arlan gold dragon was roughly equal to two hundred silver Meen, and one silver coin was roughly fifty copper Noias.  

Only the largest denomination, the gold dragon, was rarely seen and always referred to by its formal name; the rest were simply called Arlan silver coins or Arlan copper coins.  

“Seventeen gold dragons...”  

The tavern owner felt like a fishbone stuck in his throat. This was no small amount—enough to buy a decent residence with living quarters in a border town.  

“Settle the bill quickly. I don’t care, but these two gentlemen here don’t want to make a wasted trip.”  

Li Site slammed the flail onto the table with a clatter, crossed his legs, and rocked the chair without fear of tipping over.  

The second principle was: If you can’t lead a team, you’ll only work yourself to death. Having people makes things easier. Can you fight well? When working, power matters. Whether your companions are ruthless or not doesn’t matter, but they must look ruthless.  

To finalize today’s matter, Li Site brought two rather intimidating-looking men from his eleven-person crew to hold the ground.  

The helmsman, Sharkman Ox.  

Standing 2.8 meters tall, wearing brown leather pants and boots, bare-chested, muscular and burly, Sharkman of the Shark Clan. His sturdy light blue skin was covered with scars. His dorsal fin had been torn off long ago for unknown reasons, leaving a huge gruesome wound. Sharp scars covered the spiked fins on his elbows but they were still functional. His terrifying height made him look like an iron tower. He leaned both hands on a massive sword resembling a door panel, resting on the floor.  

Li Site’s evaluation of him was: “My brother Ox is ruthless and doesn’t talk much.”  

The sailman, Wolfman Rain.  

Standing 2.4 meters tall, wearing a dark red leather coat stretched over shoulders as wide as a double-door refrigerator. Wolf-headed with a humanoid body. His silver-gray hair on his head was greasy and tangled from long neglect, his fangs exposed, ferocious to the extreme. His weapon was only a pair of arm guards protecting his hands. Skilled in martial arts close combat, he tore people apart with his claws, ripping open chests and guts.  

Li Site’s evaluation: “Psychopath. Last time in a harbor town, Rain used pliers to crush three of a noble’s teeth, forcibly stuffed lemon and chili into his mouth, exquisitely torturing his sensitive nerves.”  

At this moment, Rain was acting crazy again.  

“This knife of mine is coated with poison brewed by an alchemist.”  

Rain grinned, revealing a blood-red maw, and pulled out a dagger with a razor-sharp edge. His long tongue was covered with backward barbs like a bone-scraping steel blade, secreting thick saliva dripping onto the floor, about to lick the blade.  

“This...”  

The tavern owner didn’t know what to say.  

“Eh, not licking yet, not licking yet, heh heh.”  

Rain feigned a strike, emitting a creepy cold laugh. His claws scratched the table, the sharp, piercing sound torturing the ears.  

Li Site pinched his chin, thinking this guy was seriously ill—he had worked hard to create the atmosphere, and this ruined it all.  

He had no choice but to pin his hopes on the ruthless and taciturn Ox.  

Because of Ox’s personal experience, losing his fin meant he could no longer survive at sea. Most Sharkmen couldn’t last long on land, which was like a death sentence. But he was an exception, relying on his ridiculously strong physical condition. For him, it was only a bit of altitude sickness, needing more water.  

He opened the valve of the malt beer barrel, poured himself glass after glass without caring about others. Within minutes, he had downed over twenty glasses like a bandit.  

Li Site squinted his eyes. Drinking up free drinks so greedily? That makes you look weak and petty, damn it.  

The atmosphere was completely destroyed, unable to highlight the desperate situation of the opponents. Bring out your usual ruthlessness in killing and plundering! Get hyped! Always dropping the ball at critical moments.  

Li Site let out a deep breath.  

“Alright, today either settle the payment, or...”  

Li Site thought he could only rely on himself. His eyes gleamed coldly as he stood up, walked to Ox, and calmly turned off the valve.  

Ox: “...”  

Then Li Site went all out, smashing a barrel of high-proof liquor with his flail. The wood cracked open; he used the tied ropes on the barrel to splash the liquor everywhere.  

Ox and Rain were also complicit. Both were terrifyingly strong. Ox smashed a hard wood-sealed barrel with one punch; Rain punctured it with his claws. These tall, muscular monsters drenched the place with flammable liquid.  

The eleven members of the Black Sails Pirate Crew were all wanted fugitives with bounties. Li Site called them the Dream Team. Comparing piracy to a mobile game’s gacha draw, this lineup wasn’t a golden team that could instantly wipe out the world, but all were villains. Ordinary people were scared stiff just to look at them.  

Rain even splashed the tavern owner all over.  

“Either you pay up, or I burn this place down.”  

Li Site broke a kerosene lamp and kept threatening. If anything went wrong with the words, he would burn everything to ashes.  

The tavern owner was already kneeling, babbling incoherently, begging for mercy. His wife was crying even harder.  

Rain looked at the leftover food on the table, which was quite a lot. Kind-hearted but poor, they probably couldn’t come up with this huge sum today.  

“Probably no money on him. Just burn it. Original God, activate!”  

After years with Li Site, Rain had picked up an extremely strange catchphrase, even though he didn’t understand its meaning, he found it amusing and was eager to burn it all down for fun.  

Ox was indifferent, coldly lethal. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet, bit off the cork, and guzzled it down.  

Li Site had made it this far because he had a ship and a team, and he fully followed his three principles.  

The third principle was: Whoever has money to earn, it’s theirs. Bullying ordinary people just makes yourself look stupid. His subordinates were all capable and ruthless outlaws licking the edge of the blade.  

The shipwright, dark elf Shadi, always had connections. He infiltrated the underground bank of Linden City on the East Coast of the Beima Principality, stayed undercover for over half a month, and found the ledger to check the debtors.  

If you play, play big.  

Li Site stared at the begging tavern owner. “Seventeen gold dragons is indeed no small sum. I have a compromise. You borrowed eight, with a monthly interest of thirty percent. By now, it has doubled. But I’m righteous; you can at least pay five.”  

Everything went smoothly.  

The three of them used the ledger Shadi got to find debtors and collect debts, only collecting half of the borrowed amount as a labor fee for helping these usurious creditors settle accounts.  

They had already collected over seventy gold dragons on their side. Almost all debts around Linden City were settled.  

As for the shipwright Shadi and four other tough guys, if nothing went wrong, they should be in the underground bank’s lair wreaking havoc, robbing their treasury.  

Li Site liked to call Shadi the East Coast Idea King.