The One-Eyed Man's name was Gibbs.
He looked very much like that legendary First Mate, but he was a One-Eyed Man.
He seemed to be the petty officer on this sea serpent, responsible for familiarizing Roger with the "rules" on board.
The so-called rules were actually just about working.
Endless work.
"Kid, see that deck over there?"
"Scrub it clean with a brush and seawater. If the Captain sees bird droppings on it, you'll have to lick it clean!"
Gibbs pointed to a stained deck and ordered gruffly.
Roger said nothing, silently picked up a heavy wooden bucket nearby, went to the ship's side to draw a bucket of water, and began to scrub the deck diligently.
His silence and obedience somewhat surprised Gibbs, who had originally intended to pick a fight.
He scrutinized Roger for a few moments, grunted, then ignored him and turned to shout at other crew members.
While scrubbing the deck, Roger subtly observed the single-masted sailboat named "sea serpent."
This ship was too dilapidated.
This was Roger's first assessment.
As a modern seaman with over a decade of experience, who had even served as an acting captain for a period, his familiarity with ships far exceeded that of ordinary people.
At a glance, the ship's problems were as numerous as holes in a sieve.
The canvas of the mainmast was severely worn, with several patches.
Moreover, the stitching of the patches was crude and looked like it wouldn't last long.
The ropes were the same; the fibers in many places had frayed, clearly lacking maintenance.
God knows if a strong gust of wind would snap them one day.
Even more critically, he noticed that when the crew members operated the sails and steered, their movements were disorganized, relying entirely on experience and brute force.
Their method of observing wind direction was to look at the clouds in the sky and the flight paths of seabirds, or simply to wet a finger with saliva and hold it out to feel... it was too primitive.
Even more primitive than Peking Man... Roger shook his head internally.
This wasn't sailing; this was practically gambling with their lives.
The nautical knowledge in his mind made him particularly sensitive to these things.
The knowledge contained within, such as using different cloud layers to judge weather, how to precisely calculate the angle of wind and sails to achieve maximum propulsion, and so on, would be considered divine skills to people of this era.
"Hey, new guy, no slacking off!"
A bearded pirate, swaying with a bottle of wine, stumbled over and kicked Roger's bucket, spilling most of the water.
Roger stopped, looked up, and stared at him expressionlessly.
"What are you looking at? I'm talking to you!"
The bearded man was clearly drunk, his words slurred.
"Gibbs told you to scrub the deck, how long have you been scrubbing?"
"You haven't even finished a small patch. Do you want to be hung from the mast to catch some wind?"
Roger didn't make a sound.
He knew there was no reasoning with a drunkard like this.
In a place like this, showing weakness or being confrontational were not good choices.
The best approach was to ignore him.
He silently picked up the bucket, preparing to fetch more water.
"Stop!"
The bearded man grabbed his shoulder.
"I'm talking to you, are you deaf?"
A strong smell of alcohol sprayed onto Roger's face.
Roger frowned, a surge of anger rising in his heart.
Damn it.
Working isn't right either, what do you want!
He suppressed his anger and said coldly, "Let go."
"Oh? Quite feisty, aren't we?"
The bearded man chuckled, tightening his grip on Roger's shoulder.
"Kid, I don't care what you did before, but on this sea serpent, you'd better behave!"
"If I don't teach you a lesson today, I don't think you know the rules here!"
As he spoke, he raised his other hand, seemingly intending to slap Roger.
Roger's eyes turned cold. Although he wasn't good at fighting, he couldn't just let himself be bullied!
He thrust his elbow back hard, hitting the bearded man squarely in the ribs.
"Ow!"
The bearded man cried out in pain, and his grip on Roger's hand involuntarily loosened.
Roger seized the opportunity, immediately stepped back two paces, creating distance, and adopted a defensive stance.
He wasn't a good fighter, but against a drunkard, he could barely manage.
This sudden turn of events immediately attracted the attention of the other crew members nearby.
They stopped their work and gathered around, looking ready to enjoy a show.
"What's going on, Billy?"
Gibbs also walked over, frowning as he asked.
The bearded man named Billy clutched his ribs and pointed at Roger, cursing:
"This kid dared to hit me!"
A flicker of surprise crossed Gibbs's One-Eyed Man, and he looked at Roger.
This seemingly frail young man actually dared to fight back?
Roger calmly spoke: "He started it."
"Bullshit!" Billy roared, "I just wanted to teach him the rules!"
"Harassing someone at work, is that your rule?"
Roger retorted fearlessly.
His composure and the logic in his words surprised the pirates watching the commotion.
In their view, newcomers should be bullied and should silently endure it.
Roger, who dared to talk back to an old crew member, was the first.
Gibbs stroked his chin, his One-Eyed Man darting between Roger and Billy.
He wasn't a fool; he knew Billy's character well.
But he also needed to maintain the "authority" of the older crew members.
"Kid, no matter what, you were wrong to lay hands on him."
Gibbs's face darkened.
"Captain Barbossa doesn't like fights on board."
"Alright, you, go clean the latrine."
"Billy, stop looking for trouble, go to sleep."
This way of handling it seemed to punish both equally, but in reality, it still favored Billy.
Cleaning the latrine?
Don't pirates just squat and excrete into the sea?
Damn, this little pirate is quite clean!
He's probably afraid of getting splashed on the butt by a wave.
Billy grunted, annoyed, but dared not disobey Gibbs.
He glared at Roger fiercely, clutched his ribs, and walked away.
The surrounding pirates burst into laughter, their gazes at Roger full of mockery.
Roger's mind was clear as day.
He knew that his elbow strike today, while satisfying in the moment, had completely offended Billy.
More importantly, he had shown Gibbs and the other old crew members his troublesome nature.
The days ahead would likely be even harder.
But he didn't regret it.
Constant forbearance would only make these people worse.
He had to let them know that he was not a soft persimmon to be squeezed at will.
He expressionlessly put down the brush and walked silently towards the crude and foul-smelling latrine at the stern.
As he turned, he glanced at the sky.
The clouds in the west were thickening and darkening at an abnormal speed.
Roger's heart sank sharply.
The nautical knowledge in his mind screamed warnings; all signs pointed to one outcome.
A massive storm.
And it was approaching rapidly.
And this dilapidated ship... Roger looked back at the pirates who were still laughing and fooling around, oblivious to the danger.
He had only one thought:
This ship, along with this bunch of idiots on board, was doomed sooner or later!