The Aftermath of Zero-Cost Shopping

After two days of rest, Luo's injuries hadn't fully healed, but they no longer hindered his movement.

Under Abel's strong insistence, the one conspicuous hat was wrapped in cloth and stuffed into his clothes.

And it wasn't just the hat—Abel used bandages stripped from elsewhere to wrap the guy's face entirely, leaving only a pair of eyes exposed.

Then he draped black cloth over him like a cloak.

There was no other choice. Though this getup was a bit odd, it was still better than having the white patches on his face discovered.

Entering the city this time, Abel noticed significantly more soldiers patrolling back and forth.

It was probably due to the chaotic battle at the port yesterday, which had made the atmosphere tense.

Still, that was fine. With such a big incident drawing everyone's attention, there shouldn't be many people still concerned about the few homeless men who died earlier.

Inside a clothing store, Senor was trying on a new suit.

The female shopkeeper beside him and the wealthy wives accompanying their husbands to buy clothes all wore lovestruck expressions, seemingly captivated by the masculine aura Senor exuded.

"Wrap up these sets for me."

"Sir, may I know your name?"

"Sorry, I'm destined to be a passerby in your life. So... forget me."

Senor, whose face still hadn't fully healed from the swelling, placed money on the counter, lit a cigarette, and walked away under the adoring gazes of all the women.

Truly... truly too charming!

The shopkeeper's face flushed, and she fainted on the spot.

Not far out, Senor suddenly stopped in his tracks, because he'd just realized that while he was busy politely turning down that woman, he'd forgotten to take his newly bought suits.

"Sigh... forget it. Better head back quickly."

Senor wanted to go back for the clothes, but he couldn't bear to let those women fall in love with him again at the sight of him, so he had to let it go.

Meanwhile, near the port, a bustling scene of intense activity was underway.

Many workers were urgently repairing and rebuilding the structures destroyed yesterday, because every day of delay meant massive financial losses—something no merchant could tolerate.

Secondly, the remaining weapons from the Donquixote Family's smuggling ship had all been used up in yesterday's battle. With no goods to trade, Senor had no choice but to prepare for the return trip.

So the supplies that hadn't yet been fully procured were, under the threat of the Donquixote Family's infamy, all delivered at top speed and piled up at the port.

Other ships wanting to leave first could only wait silently.

And this chaotic mix of people undoubtedly provided great convenience for Abel and Luo's upcoming plans.

"Are all the supplies accounted for?"

"Most have been handed over, but the liquor we ordered still has no news."

"Then go hurry them up!"

"Yes!"

But before long, the crew member sent to urge them returned with bad news.

"What? None left?"

"He says his cellar was raided by someone yesterday, and not even a single barrel of Wheat Wine was left for him. He says there's no way to complete our deal now."

"And you believed him?"

"I—"

"See this flag? In the North Sea, no one can shortchange the Donquixote Family's goods. I don't care if what he said is true or false—I want at least a hundred barrels of liquor here by noon, understand?"

"Yes, I'll get it done!"

"Move! Take all the liquor from here!"

With a short, fat man's command, a dozen ferocious pirates stormed into the tavern.

"Gula! What the hell are you trying to do? There are patrol soldiers everywhere—do you have a death wish?!"

"Heh, Old Drunkard, don't try to scare me. If I can't deliver the goods to the Donquixote Family today, I'm dead anyway. Either way, I'm done for—why not drag a few more down with me?!"

The Old Drunkard was both shocked and furious. A few of his men tried to resist but were immediately beaten to the ground.

He'd heard about Gula's cellar being robbed before and had even gloated about it, but he never thought the tables would turn so fast?

Gula didn't have this many thugs under him—these must be men sent by the Donquixote Family.

Remembering the two pirate crews that had been wiped out, the Old Drunkard's courage faltered. He lowered his voice and said, "What exactly do you want? Spell it out. If I can help, I will, but if you go too far, I'd rather smash every last barrel of liquor here and die together with you, you bastard!"

Gula's heart finally relaxed, and a smile crept onto his face.

"Don't worry, I won't make things hard for you, old pal. Just let me take half the liquor here today. Hold on, let me finish."

"I'm not taking it for free—I'll pay you the wholesale price plus half a percent interest."

"Don't think it's too little. The next place won't get this deal. Think it over."

Hearing there was a "next place," the Old Drunkard caught on and understood what Gula meant.

"Really?"

"True can't be false—don't you think there are too many taverns near the port right now?"

"Fine! For that line, I'll help you out."

The two old foxes wrapped up a tacit under-the-table deal in the blink of an eye.

And the result was that every other tavern took the hit.

The lucky ones just got squeezed for a hefty sum; as for those who didn't know their place or couldn't read the room, the light punishment was having all their liquor cleared out, while the heavy ones got beaten black and blue, barely escaping with their lives.

What had been a major crisis was twisted by that fat man Gula into an opportunity, and waving the banner of the Donquixote Family, he blustered his way through publicly eliminating his competition.

Even the soldiers outside, the moment they heard the Donquixote Family was handling business, immediately pretended not to see anything and swiftly led their men away.

Seeing this, Gula's fat face split into an even more smug grin.

What he didn't know was that, right under his nose, two brats had already slipped into one of the empty barrels.

Those pirates, when hauling the liquor, never bothered about the slight difference in weight—as long as it wasn't empty, they hauled it all away!

Unwittingly, they'd done a huge favor.

Even Abel probably never imagined that his all-out zero-yuan shopping spree yesterday would trigger such a chain reaction.

Finally, just before noon, over two hundred barrels of liquor were loaded onto the ship.

Since Senor didn't know where the liquor came from, he simply settled the payment with Gula and then boarded the ship, ready to leave.

Gula, who had turned misfortune into fortune, had his fat face blooming like a chrysanthemum.