Arm wrestling

The interior of the tavern was dimly lit, it had a low ceiling and even the paint on the pillars was peeling off. A few ropes were hanging from the ceiling, with random strange objects tied to the bottom; objects like beer bottles, pots, logs, carved sculptures and even rocks. These objects were probably attached there by sailors or pirates before they went out on dangerous ventures; showcasing their aspirations.

At the far end of the tavern, were a few decayed and shabby oaken buckets. Several guys encircled these buckets as they chatted and laughed. The tavern tables were low, durable, heavy and radiated a polished over time greyish color. Above it was a cleanly wiped shimmering brass candlestick and an oil lamp.

Sailors and pirates were sitting around tables, mostly dressed in tattered and dull old clothes. Some grew pigtail hairstyles, and placed glass beads above it, while most had tangled and messy beard or hair.

When Sheyan entered, only a few people paid attention to him; probably because his appearance of chewing on a betel nut was commonly seen over here. He walked to the tavern counter and without saying a word, the bartender slid a wooden beer cup laced with hoops over, where rum mysteriously did not spill out.

"Happy rum festival! First cup is free, next time you better prepare yer shillings kid."

Sheyan had been walking for a long while, furthermore. he had engaged in a dragged out conversation with the old man and thus felt pretty thirsty. Lifting up the cup, he drank a mouthful and allowed himself to daydream a little. Previously, in the present world where he worked, he had ever drank amongst the top 6 strongest alcohol in the world.

Once the rum entered his mouth, it was like it became a trail of flames entering into his belly, finally at the end, he could taste the faint sweetness. With his alcohol tolerance level, he only dared to drink half the cup.

However, the cup before him was filled with sugar cane sweetness, whereas he could only taste a slight tinge of alcohol. It could not even be compared with beer, and the closest comparison was that of a soft drink with a tinge of alcohol. This was probably due to the lack of skills in terms of pressuring and fermenting the drink, in addition to that, the cheap boss of this tavern probably added water to dilute the rum.

Even if that was so, Sheyan gulped down the entire mug of rum in an instant. Licking his lips and consecutively producing his pouch, he said.

"Yes, another mug."

Sheyan suddenly recalled something and instantly added on.

"4 shillings worth, no more no less."

Sheyan was currently short on funds, therefore he needed to be prudent. The bartender was slightly amazed at how Sheyan had gulped down the entire mug. People that could down a huge mug of rum were not uncommon, however, finishing and asking for another even larger mug was rarely seen. He did not know that when Sheyan was previously working as a seaman, he had gone past Russia and under the extreme cold in Siberia, high purity vodka was essential in combating the cold. Therefore, under such circumstances, his alcohol tolerance had improved, even beer was like water, he drank as much as he peed. This left the bartender flabbergasted.

Money for goods, that was the norm and therefore the mug of paid rum had much more volume than the free one. After successively wolfing down the second mug of rum in one go, he had already unintentionally garnered the astonished attention of everyone else. Satisfied, he nodded his head as the nightmare imprint transmitted a notification – [ Drunkard milestone completion: 1/100 ]. Sheyan then found a table to sit at. Beside him was a tall and skinny guy, which looked fairly familiar, he raised his mug at Sheyan and chuckled while speaking.

"Oi brat, you can really drink huh."

Sheyan laughed, he looked at the group that was gathering around the buckets at the distant end and replied.

"Having such a jolly good time eh, what are they doing?"

The skinny guy shrugged his shoulders and unhappily said:

"Scarface Harry be bettin’ arm wrestling again? That brawn over brains guy, can’t he select other forms of entertainment?"

Sheyan lacked funds urgently, in order to achieve the drunkard milestone, he had to at least acquire 4 x 99 cups of cash. 20 guineas was a huge sum of cash to accumulate, therefore, once he heard the word ‘betting’, Sheyan’s eyes popped wide open and immediately made his way forward.

Scarface Harry resembled a piece of rock, his facial features had a distinct Scandinavian Vikings characteristic. His face had a 5 cm scar that looked like a centipede, the top of his head was a shiny baldness. This guy with a huge beard had a bright smile, as though its reflection allowed the floating dust around to be visibly seen. However, his personality was pleasant, even when he lost money, he remained cheerful and showed no trace of anger.

While walking forward, Sheyan had already activated his insight ability in a flash.

[ Scarface Harry (Elite) ]

[ Description: Bell and Mug Chief Mate ]

[ Height: 7 foot 2 inches (2.15 metres) ]

[ Weight: 158 kg (Just like an NBA player) ]

[ Strength: 9 points ]

[ Agility: ? Points ]

[ Physique: 30 points ]

[ Perceptive sense: ? points ]

[ Charm: 14 points ]

[ Intelligence: 3 points ]

[ Spirit: ? points ]

[ Basic close combat lvl 3, Basic footwork lvl 2, Basic endurance lvl 3 ]

[ Advanced ability: ? ]

[ Special ability: ? ]

[ Special ability: Big Hearted – Receives additional 1,000 HP ]

[ Description: Scarface Harry has currently only brought a single assistant out for entertainment. If you think this is his real power, then your conclusion will be that your head will become like those spoilt coconuts on the floor ]

After viewing his attributes, Sheyan became slightly dejected but he tossed out his pouch and laughed.

"2 guineas, I’ll bet with you for a round."

Scarface Harry laughed as he looked at Sheyan.

"Yellow skinned boy, if you think that being able to drink means your strength is great, then be prepared to lose your money!"

Sheyan shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"That’s not certain."

Scarface Harry laughed, calling for a mug of tequila, drinking it as he regained his strength.

After roughly 5 minutes, he shook his wrist and said.

"Let’s go."

Tequila is a strong alcohol that contains an adrenaline inducing substance. Although Scarface Harry was as huge as a rock, his brain wasn’t not stupid. After finishing his tequila, his strength surged by 1 point to reach a high of 10 points. Sheyan sat at the side and drank his rum, while having an expression that of having success within one’s grasp.

Sheyan was considered to be quite buff, however, when he reached out his right hand to interlock within Scarface Harry’s grip, he looked like a pathetic skinny boy. Based on just body size, Sheyan’s 1.77 metres height and 75 kg body looked like a little kid in front of this gigantic monster.

When the two started exerting strength, Sheyan could feel a massive unexplainable force against his wrist, simultaneously his hand bended downwards from the pressure by 45 degrees. His whole body was trembling, eyebrows arching down he forced out his maximum strength.

The wooden stools beneath their buttocks were producing crackling sounds, as cracks started to surface under the immense pressure. In contrast the old wooden table although already covered in injury marks, stood steadily and did not move.

Gasps of awe resounded from the surrounding people. Normally, Scarface Harry had been invincible in this sort of activity, and was famous throughout the entire Turtuga port. If members from the 3 legendary ships did not step in, he would rake in wins after wins. They believed Sheyan would face the same predicament, however, he was the first who was still able to resist this sort of strength and still remain stable.

Their face turned red, with veins popping out from their wrists, as their interlocked hands were faintly shaking. What was astonishing was that Sheyan was actually gradually pushing back! Scarface Harry’s eyes were wide opened, beads of perspiration had started forming on his forehead, as he could only watch in vain as his opponent counterattacked!

At this time, the wooden seats beneath their buttocks could not withstand the pressure any longer as it split with a loud crack. Sheyan trying to avoid falling to the ground butt first immediately loosen his hands and stood up. This match had no conclusion as the observers sighed; feeling extremely regretful towards such an amazing match.

Yet Scarface Harry was extremely chill, laughing out loud, he declared.

"Damned stool, why did it fail at such a critical moment. This match is considered my loss. Marde, take 40 shillings and give it to this gentleman."

Marde was the short but sturdy, 50 plus years old man standing beside him. His hair had all turned white. After hearing, he immediately tossed two guineas into Sheyan’s pouch. Sheyan did not leave, but signalled to the bartender to issue everyone here with a mug of rum; of course, those huge 4 shillings/mug kind. He then loudly boomed.

"I am Seaman Yan from eastern China, a greedy captain employed me while promising me bonus profits. After venturing out tens of thousand of miles out at sea, he successfully made a twenty fold profits by selling off his raw silk and potteries. Yet, he abandoned me in this beautiful but foreign place when I was drunk!"

Up till now, Sheyan raised his own mug up high.

"May the devil curse his soul!"

Presently the people around were sailors or pirates, they had no good impressions of unscrupulous businessmen. Treated by Sheyan, they could feel and understand him as they raised their mugs in unison.

"May the devil curse his soul!"