The bar owner is nicknamed "Big Eye," as he has only one eye, and it's quite large. There are some legends about him being a famous pirate in the past.
The owner smiled, "Brother, I'm really sorry, this bottle is reserved. Is a ten-year one okay?"
Cantona shrugged indifferently, "It's fine."
He wasn't that particular, never too fussy about food and drink. He accepted the Black Label. Bar owners in places like this have sharp eyes; the person before him was not to be trifled with, exuding the aura of a Church member, mixed with a menacing dead silence. Better to provoke the navy or a pirate than the Church, especially the Cultists.
Unscrewing the bottle, Cantona drank three big gulps in succession. The spicy liquor slid down his throat, followed by a fiery sensation rising up his throat to burst through his skull.
"Ah!"
He exhaled deeply, "Refreshing!"
