Chapter 6: The Gourmet

After boarding the ship, Byron had yet to lay eyes on the infamous pirate captain, **Bloodeye** Salman. However, from the crimson-eyed sharks that served as his "pets," Byron had already deduced that Salman was a supernatural being.

The **Navigational Log** couldn't easily peer into Salman's past as it could with ordinary mortals. This was why Byron had sought information through Little Hans, only to stumble upon a new secret.

The first supernatural secret: the shadow of the Blacktins Throne War—the War of the Red and White Roses—had granted Byron an excessive feedback as a **History Corrector**. However, the level of secrecy involved was so high that he could see but not touch it until he completed his initiation ceremony.

"The **Secret: Captain Bloodeye Salman's Unspoken Affliction**, on the other hand, has a historical impact of only 4%. Unraveling his secret would allow my **Spirituality** to accumulate and settle, enabling me to directly perform the **Glory Ladder** initiation ceremony."

Thus, instead of being frightened by Little Hans' warning, Byron felt a surge of excitement. Of course, he didn't forget to sincerely thank him.

"Cheers! Drink!"

"The fresh beer on the Pelican is the best, along with the sausages and white bread. Finally, we don't have to eat those maggot-infested ship biscuits anymore."

"..."

When Byron followed Little Hans onto the open deck, he saw a group of pirates, fresh from a successful raid, indulging in wild revelry. Except for the helmsman and the necessary crew for sailing, most were guzzling bottles of alcohol with abandon.

The ship's stored biscuits and salted meat had been tossed aside, replaced by fresh provisions looted from the Pelican. As a former naval cadet from the Royal Naval Academy, Byron was no stranger to such scenes. Whether pirates, merchant sailors, or naval soldiers, their living conditions were far from the romanticized tales of legend.

A sailor's life was akin to that of a prisoner, with the added risk of drowning. The worst prison was a hundred times better than the hold of a ship. The vessel reeked of hell: stench, resentment, fear, fever, dysentery, headaches, heat, tuberculosis, scurvy, cancer, and mouth sores... Limited medical care turned minor ailments into fatal diseases.

Freshwater stored in barrels in the hold would soon turn foul. On a ship short on fuel, drinking boiled water was a luxury, usually reserved for the wounded. Others had to mix spoiled water with rum or simply substitute low-alcohol drinks for water.

The food was equally abysmal—over-salted meat and moldy biscuits were their staples. Every meal was a struggle, forcing them to swallow rotten, maggot-infested food. Byron had heard more than one sailor joke, "Black-headed maggots taste cool, not bitter like weevils. They're not bad!"

Pirates, especially those roaming the seas for long periods, had even worse supplies, as they couldn't easily restock at normal ports. Naturally, unless driven to desperation or fleeing the law, few would willingly choose this path. The sea had few heroes but plenty of villains. It was common for armed merchant ships to turn into part-time pirates.

The two of them squeezed through a crowd of stinking pirates to reach the open stern deck. A massive wooden table was set up there, laden with provisions looted from the Pelican: fruits, peas, beef, lamb legs, and alcohol...

At the center of the table, surrounded by pirate officers, was a spherical figure devouring food with gusto. Without Little Hans' prompting, Byron knew this was the ship's supreme authority: **Bloodeye** Salman.

At first glance, Byron understood why Little Hans had warned him not to lose his composure. Salman was a fat man—a man standing about 150 centimeters tall but weighing at least 150 kilograms! The wide wooden chair beneath him creaked under his weight, and his silk nobleman's suit was stretched to its limits by his bulging flesh.

His round face was so plump that his eyes were reduced to mere slits, making it hard to see how he earned the title **Bloodeye**. Yet, despite his size, he continued to gorge himself. He swallowed a beef rib in one bite, devoured a whole lamb leg in two, and downed an entire bottle of rum in between. A nimble young pirate beside him continuously fed him shelled crab meat.

Salman ignored the fruits and peas on the table, focusing solely on the meat and alcohol. Byron had a premonition that anyone who dared interrupt the captain's feast would face dire consequences.

After standing silently before **Bloodeye** for a while, the fat captain finally had a moment to glance at Byron. Suddenly, he smiled dangerously, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth:

"New cook? Once you board this pirate ship, you're part of the **Man-Eater Shark**. As long as you follow the **Pirate Code**, you needn't fear for your safety. Normally, you won't need to fight; your main duty is to cook for me. If you can take care of the others, the crew will be grateful. Of course! I'm a gourmet, and I'm a bit particular about food. The most important element is freshness. I hope you won't disappoint me."

His speech was surprisingly refined, far from the terrifying image Little Hans had painted. It was hard to associate him with a brutal pirate captain. Moreover, he spoke clearly without pausing his eating—a skill that impressed Byron.

Byron wasn't worried about the "freshness" Little Hans had repeatedly warned him about. With his awakened **Spirituality**, his memories from both past and present lives were crystal clear, including countless recipes he had once read. If one were to measure the length of the recipes in Byron's mind, it would surely outlast **Bloodeye** Salman's life! The so-called "freshness" was no challenge for him.

Like a true noble steward, Byron placed a hand over his chest and bowed with confidence and respect: "At your service, Captain."

His impeccable manners caught Salman's attention, and the captain's eating became slightly more refined. However, as Salman straightened his posture, the silk shirt's ruffled sleeves slipped down, revealing a pair of claw-like, deformed hands. The hands and arms, especially around the joints, were covered in lumpy protrusions that sent shivers down one's spine.

While others might not recognize it due to limited knowledge, Byron, who had become a self-taught doctor in his previous life, instantly identified them as **gout tophi**. Even with his vast experience, Byron had never seen such a severe case.

His mind raced: *'At this rate, he's probably close to pissing blood! Not only is he morbidly obese, but he's also gorging on meat and alcohol, avoiding all fruits and vegetables, and not drinking water. This isn't just reckless—it's suicidal!'*

The **Secret: Bloodeye's Unspoken Affliction** comprehension jumped from 8% to 20%.

The pirate captain, unaware of his new crew member's thoughts, continued eating at the same pace, seemingly growing hungrier with each bite. His mouth full, he eagerly pressed: "If the quality of the food isn't up to par, quantity will have to suffice. I eat five meals a day, and the next one is in three hours. You'll surely prepare a signature dish I've never tasted before, won't you?"

His eyes, locked onto Byron's, suddenly emitted two icy, blood-red glows, eerily similar to those of his man-eating sharks. Byron felt a chill run down his spine.

At that moment...

*Crunch!*

"Ah—!"

The young pirate feeding Salman stumbled back, clutching his bloodied left hand and letting out a piercing scream. In his ravenous haste, Salman had bitten off two of the boy's fingers.

The other pirates, though terrified, kept their heads down, not daring to show any reaction. Byron, standing too close, had a drop of blood splatter on his face but didn't dare wipe it off.

His concern for his "fellow sufferer" vanished in an instant, and he blurted out without thinking: "In your condition, it has to be lamb, seafood, and ice-cold beer!"