Max sat in the chair, which creaked under his weight, seemingly at its limits after long neglect.
He raised his brow, glancing askance at the chair and the table, also taking a peek at the furniture of the tavern.
Everything looked somewhat crude and roughed up.
Deciding to brush it off, he asked the owner, "What do you serve here?"
"Sire, whatever ye ask, I bring. Price matters the most," the owner said, rubbing his index finger and thumb together, gesturing to Max, his intention all clear.
Even though Max had instilled some fear in everyone, the owner had seen too much in life. Coins were above his life itself. He could lose even his wife, but not his money.
"Tell me about something recent," Max said, throwing some coins from his pocket.
The owner swiftly snatched them and licked them perversely, a foolish grin curled on his lips.
Max frowned at the disgusting act, firmly resolving to always wash any coin he accepted from now on.
Yet he kept a cold face, idly trying to stare at the owner.
As if aware of the eyes boring holes into him and bearing the pressure, the owner coughed and shoved the coins into a pouch.
He glanced sideways and shuffled closer to Max, passing him a mug filled with rum, and his voice hushed as he whispered, "Governor Swan be asking merchants for something special. Something for the lady, I heard."
He paused and resumed, "Also, he be going to reward the merchant with some advantages in trade."
Max nodded offhandedly, fingers resting on the mug, more for show than for drink, keeping the intel in his head and continued listening.
The owner noticed no response from Max and continued, "Recently, we heard Captain James Norrington will be promoted to Commodore. Tomorrow be the day, I heard."
Max narrowed his eyes, but inwardly he exclaimed in delight. That's what he wanted to know most right now.
With Norrington's promotion tomorrow, Max had a basic understanding of the timeline.
The owner grinned as Max gave a decent response. Shallow, but something better than nothing.
He added, "Sir Norrington be away for his usual tour around the area with his ship. You can see him tomorrow."
Max nodded and threw another coin at the owner. He stood up while the man kept the coin with a broad smile.
Just as Max was about to leave, he turned and threw another coin at the owner.
The owner caught it with some confusion.
"Keep your mouth shut, or else." Max gestured to his pistol and warned the owner coldly.
The owner gulped and nodded repetitively, cold sweat on his brow. Max's words carried some dark weight, making the owner understand he wasn't someone to be crossed casually.
Max seemed to accept the owner's words, turned, and left. His back stayed straight—but for some odd reason, his steps hurried.
The owner sighed in relief, though he didn't notice Max scurrying away with a straight, calm face. Even if he had, he would've brushed it off as a quirk of Max.
Not just the owner, every patron in the tavern breathed out with visible relief on their faces.
Suddenly, everyone noticed each other again, scowled, and silently decided to bury the matter for now.
As for whether someone had different plans churning in their heads, no one would know, and no one cared.
Better yet, they'd cheer for the daring soul, watch the clash unfold from the sidelines, and reap the benefits in the end.
Some drooled at the thought, dreaming happily.
Meanwhile, Max drifted away from the tavern and gradually also left the alley as fast as possible.
His facade, though it worked, wasn't infallible. An act like that might work against sane and cautious individuals; however, it would not work against a crazy person.
Keep a distance from crazy, he heard something similar. His past life. Though the saying involved something about not sticking in or similar, he concluded it was nothing useful.
Soon, he was far from the location, and he found himself in the market for common citizens of Port Royal.
The hustle and bustle echoed all around, and Max at last breathed out a deep exhale he didn't know was stuck.
His indifferent expression melted away, and a grin appeared on his face.
He managed to nail the act and get intel while also discovering the dark and the lighter side of Port Royal.
He gazed at the distant, darker alley from which he had just come. His eyes lingered for a while, but soon he shook his head.
'Let's hope I won't have to go back there again—at least not alone.'
His steps then moved him toward the tavern Marco had booked for his crew, in a better location.
Marco had notified him of the destination previously, before Max left alone to roam around.
"I'll have to plan things fast. Marco can help me." He hurried to the tavern.
Given the plot and the information he learned today, tomorrow this town might be razed by undead pirates.
To complete his tasks, he'll have to prep a lot. He'd also have to meet the governor, maybe he could manipulate the situation or gain official support before chaos descended.
And because of the greedy tavern owner from earlier, Max had an idea of how to approach the governor.
Even meeting Commodore Norrington would help him, but unfortunately, he was away patrolling the area, defending and hunting pirates near Port Royal.
….
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