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6.57% Travel back to the Age of Sail to become a pirate / Chapter 5: 0005 Thirteen shillings and sixpence

Bab 5: 0005 Thirteen shillings and sixpence

 This is the flavor of the sea ...

 After six months, Lorraine returned to Plymouth once more and things were different.

 This is one of the most famous ports in England, Europe, and the world, belonging to the great Royal Navy.

 The mighty Channel Fleet was stationed here, and the Plymouth Sea School, the glorious forerunner of the Royal Naval School of Great Britain and Lorraine's alma mater, opened its doors.

 Devonport is the heart of Plymouth.

 The world's finest Devonport Dockyard is erected by a red lighthouse, and the finest shipbuilders are in it, working around the clock to build one moving and powerful sailing warship after another for the Royal Navy.

 There are also long rows of anchoring piers, like floating islands in the sea, from which the huge warships flying the flag of MiB sailed out to sea, and the glowing sailors sang from the decks.

 But perhaps because Devonport is so well known, it is often forgotten that there is a long string of pearl-like civilian ports along the calm Plymouth Sound.

 They were also part of Plymouth, and even for a long time they were the preferred place for Englishmen to set sail and return home.

 The Port of Soto is one such civilian port.

 Like most civil harbors, it is chaotic and free, with all sorts of houses built at random. Behind the shiny and tidy docks, there are also countless dirty dark alleys dedicated to harboring dirt and grime.

 Traveling through it, you can see pious priests, flamboyant adventurers, hard-working farmers, flamboyant prostitutes, as well as con artists, fixers, lawyers, craftsmen, and bankrupt artisans.

 Of course, the most common sights are the sweaty dockers, the drunken sailors and the true symbols of England's spirit, the greedy, fearless and cunning merchants.

 Coming out of Tavistock, Lorraine used all the money he had on him to exchange for a carriage ticket to Soto Harbor, and carrying his worn-out leather bag, he made his way to a pawn store called [People Have Three Emergencies].

 Before he could stomp Shaq's arrogance underfoot, he first had to cha meal.

 Across the counter, which was so high that it almost reached the tip of his chin, the naive black clerk was pricing the most valuable items on Lorraine's person with a certain extreme professionalism.

 "A pocket watch with a walking hand ...," Black glanced at the store's desk clock, "a mess that basically can't be treated as a clock."

 Lorraine shrugged.

 The miniaturization of watches is a new trend that has emerged in recent years, and the accuracy of the hands is a pipe dream. More often than not, pocket watches continue to be treated as a flashy accessory, a symbol of aristocratic status.

 Seeing that Lorraine was fine with it, Black closed the lid of the watch, fetched a single jeweled mirror, and knocked it into his eye socket.

 "Well ... one emerald, about two carats, cut could be given an 80, however the color is poor. The dial is silver with scratches, lots of scratches, and tarnish ..."

 He frowned as he pulled off the jeweled mirror and looked solemnly at Lorraine.

 "Sir, can we be more careful next time we rob? Jewelry is delicate white women, and it's not right for a gentleman to stomp on their faces with his boot."

 "If I'm prepared to rob." Lorraine bit the if extra hard, "I'll respect that."

 Black was a bit regretful, as Lorraine was cunning enough to not want to admit that the pocket watch was dirty, which gave him one less legitimate reason to press the price.

 He wrapped the pocket watch in black velvet and gathered up the table full of identification tools.

 "Sir, one needle-walking broken pocket watch, thirty percent new, and the store is willing to make an offer of eight pence."

 "How much?"

 "Eight pence." He made a six with his fat, black, chubby palm and said confidently, "I daresay that's the highest opening price in the harbor, and the master's generosity is well known."

 "It's only eight pence ..." Lorraine frowned, "Give me back my pocket watch."

 Hei Ge'er's face changed slightly, and he subconsciously tugged at the black velvet in his hand.

 "Sir, I assure you with my master's reputation, you won't be able to find a store with a higher price than ours even if you hunt for the Port of Soto, so why waste your time?"

 "Really?"

 While it's true that in this life Lorraine grew up with a golden spoon in her mouth and didn't have the opportunity to run a livelihood, in her last life ...

 His small movement caused Lorraine's alarm.

 With a snap, Lorraine slapped the sword on her belt onto the counter and asked with a smile, "Recognize it?"

 Hei Ge'er couldn't help but gulp, "This is the royal ..."

 "Major Officer Commanding Sword, Royal Navy."

 Lorraine said in a single word, drawing her sword slowly and methodically, flashing its snowy blade with reckless abandon in front of her black buddy.

 "It and the pocket watch belonged to the same man. Ten years ago, that man killed a French baron with this sword in a pickup, captured a fourth-class ship, stepped on the pocket watch you're holding, and as a result, he got a promotion."

 "The scratches on the pocket watch are from that battle, and the pattern on the back of the watch is the family crest of that baronet's family, recorded on page 162 of Noble Heraldry, which you should look at."

 Lorraine paused and lifted her eyelids to scan Black's face, "Do you know why they ended up in my hands?"

 Black's black and white eye sockets were a bit bloodshot.

 He suddenly reacted to the young man in front of him, although his black hair and brown pupils were very unaristocratic, and his shabby clothes were like a vagabond, but his speech and behavior, sitting and lying down, all of them reflected good upbringing, and he also carried a strong and stereotypical military temperament ...

 A teenager who has been in the military and has had a good upbringing ... Such a person can only have one identity ...

 Lorraine smirked and brought her sword up to his heart.

 "Do you know what? According to the laws of England, if I stabbed my sword down, I'd probably be sentenced to pay six to eight shillings in damages for accidental damage to national property."

 "I believe the pocket-watch will be worth slightly more than that, and the amount remaining after the payout will still be well over eight pence."

 The tip of Lorraine's sword deflected and picked the name tag on Black's chest.

 "Mr. Friday ... I didn't realize your host was also a fan of Mr. Defoe ... Mr. Friday, do you think I should stab down?"

 "Thirteen shillings and sixpence!" Friday's face was black with misery, and he spoke rapidly, "The master has gone to Spain, and he has given me authority for only so much. One penny more and he'll beat me to death when he gets back, and there's no compensation to be paid to anyone!"

 "It's still a little less ..." Lorraine sighed regretfully and sheathed her sword, "but deal."

 ...

 "Exactly which ships need seafarers ..."

 The marina at Soto Harbor is full of boats of all kinds.

 There was the Kirk type, the most common of the offshore merchant ships, the small sloop Slup type, and the occasional Snaku type with more masts, and the Gallant three-masted schooner, the mainstay of the Navy at the moment and best suited to ocean voyages, was singularly absent.

 This was not unexpected from Lorraine.

 Soto Harbor is home to small merchants, and the main business is offshore trade.

 For the windy and flat Dover Strait, the older sailing ships were cheaper, with no significant disadvantage in cargo capacity or speed, and were the optimal choice for these offshore traders.

 Lorraine had intended to start here, accumulating funds while observing the trading skills of contemporary seafarers, but things didn't go as smoothly as he thought.

 People come and go in the harbor, and while almost every ship needs longshoremen and sailors, there will never be a need for seafarers.

 Even if so many of them appeared occasionally, after seeing Lorraine's age and dress, they were unwilling to give him an interview.

 In the merchant's conception, the best of the best like seamen could only come from among the senior sailors. They were both skilled laborers on board, but also foremen to the sailors and assistants to the captain.

 Sea Cadets who have received systematic instruction are, of course, the exception.

 The problem was that although Lorraine had been an honor student at Sea School, he had dropped out of school, had no credentials, and now, with his red tongue, couldn't really convince strangers of a resume that was so good that it was a bit too good.

 Having been rejected four times in a row, a somewhat disheartened Lorraine dragged her legs to the center square, looked at the field full of carefree pigeons, and sighed as she took out the black bread she had just bought.

 The brown bread was brown, but it beat the price - tuppence would buy a thesaurus-sized chunk big enough for a week's worth of food.

 And it's dry, easy to store, and one of the best seafaring staples around.

 Lorraine breaks off a small piece, eats a little for herself, rubs it together and sprinkles it out for the pigeons to eat a little as well.

 The pigeons quickly gathered and huddled around his bench, cooing and cooing so noisily that it was impossible to concentrate on self-loathing.

 Lorraine muttered, "And you talk about getting it yourself, right now you can't even get on the boat, how am I supposed to get it?"

 He laughed to himself, put away his bread and stood up, ready to make another effort, when suddenly he saw that a great many people had gathered there at the fountain, just as a bewildering number of pigeons were gathering around him.

 A voice rang out from the middle of the crowd.

 "The Chamber of Commerce of Ya ... Artis is looking for experienced seafarers who can sail ships, and is also open to those who wish to enter into business! I have ships! Big ships!"


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