“So, you’ve only met me once, and you dare to come straight to my door with this little one, all because…
you think I’m a ‘good person’?”
Inside Shakky’s Rip-Off Bar, the light was dim and warm.
The air carried the faint scent of tobacco, liquor, and aged wood.
Rayleigh sat on a high stool at the counter, a glass in his hand.
He looked at Moren standing before him—travel-worn, still carrying a faint trace of blood—and the small, pitiful girl clinging tightly to his sleeve.
His expression was a mixture of surprise and astonishment.
Behind the counter, the proprietress Shakky leaned back lazily, a long, slender cigarette between her fingers, slowly exhaling a smoke ring.
Her amused gaze shifted between Moren, Lally, and Rayleigh, a faint smile lingering at the corners of her lips.
Sabaody Archipelago had no shortage of strange people and strange events, but it had been a long time since she’d seen a greenhorn who eliminated a trafficker, rescued a slave girl, and then dared to bring that trouble straight to someone he’d met only once, asking for help.
Faced with Rayleigh’s question, Moren certainly couldn’t say he had seen him in an anime.
He organized his thoughts slightly and spoke honestly.
“Partly because I trust my instincts.
My gut feelings are usually pretty accurate.”
“More importantly, I think a legendary figure who followed the Pirate King to the ends of the earth and experienced the most magnificent era wouldn’t stand by and watch a bullied child suffer—let alone harm her.
Otherwise, what would you be?”
Rayleigh let out a derisive snort, threw his head back, and took a large gulp of liquor.
“Don’t try to trap me with that kind of talk.
I’ve heard enough sweet words.”
He set down his glass, his gaze sharpening slightly.
“More than that, kid, I’m curious what you were really thinking.”
“I just warned you to keep a low profile on Sabaody.
Your fists aren’t strong enough yet.
And then you turn around and eliminate a trafficker, and come here with the ‘survivor.'”
“Do you think you’re untouchable already… or do you think I’ll clean up your mess?”
His tone carried probing intent rather than anger, mixed with light intimidation.
Moren was silent for a moment.
He gently tousled Lally’s dirty hair, his gaze sweeping over the whip scars on her back.
His voice was low but steady.
“I tried, Mr.
Rayleigh.”
“But I found out…
I can’t get past my own conscience.”
He lifted his head, eyes firm and clear.
“Since I’ve already seen it, I can’t pretend it was an illusion.”
“Since I feel it in my heart, I can’t use those reasonable excuses to make myself turn away.”
“In this life, there are things worth doing, and things not worth doing.”
“I can’t get past my own conscience.”
The words were plain, but heavy—pressing down on the atmosphere of the room.
Lally tilted her head up, her large eyes filling with tears—not only gratitude, but also the warmth of being understood and protected.
Rayleigh’s fingers paused slightly on his glass.
Behind his lenses, his gaze lingered on Moren for a few seconds.
Beside him, Shakky’s smile softened, her usual teasing tone fading into something gentler.
Moren’s conviction was rare not only on this island but across the entire sea.
Rayleigh took another drink, as if trying to suppress the stir in his heart.
He looked at Moren again.
“Interesting…
really interesting kid.
I’ve lived this long and never met anyone like you.”
“You seem to fear nothing.
Celestial Dragons?
The World Government?
The Marines?
You’re not afraid of them?”
Moren smiled faintly.
“Afraid?
Afraid of what?
Of the scum and the rotten will they represent?”
His gaze drifted to the shimmering bubble scenery outside the bar window.
“They’re not worth fearing.”
“All people are born free.
Those so-called descendants of gods, supreme authority—they’re just carefully disguised jokes.”
“I don’t believe in that kind of nonsense.
Fear them?
One day, they should be the ones fearing me.”
Of course, that was still just talk for now.
These words struck the small bar like a silent thunderclap.
Rayleigh and Shakky both looked at Moren differently.
Not admiration alone—but something deeper and sharper.
Something that didn’t belong to this world.
Rayleigh exhaled slowly.
“You really don’t seem like someone from this world…”
After a brief silence, Rayleigh suddenly laughed.
“Hahaha!
‘Born free,’ huh!
You really keep surprising me.”
He looked at Moren again, now with genuine appreciation.
“Alright!
Since you’ve said so many good things, Shakky and I will take the little one in.”
“We’ll treat her wounds, find her a safe place, or send her home…”
“If she’s willing—and has talent—she can learn something.
Better than staying with someone who can’t even protect himself.”
Lally’s eyes lit up instantly, but she still looked worriedly at Moren.
Moren exhaled in relief.
“Thank you.”
Rayleigh waved a hand.
“So what’s next?
Hide somewhere?
Or leave this place?”
Moren shook his head.
“I’m going to keep doing what my heart tells me.”
“Now that I’m here, and I’ve seen Sabaody’s so-called ‘special features,’ I can’t hold back anymore.”
Rayleigh raised an eyebrow.
“You’re still going?
Those guys won’t let you off easily.
They’re desperadoes.”
Moren’s eyes remained calm.
“I know.
I’m going to take them out.
We’ll see who’s stronger.”
Without another word, he turned and left the bar.
The wooden door closed behind him.
The bar fell silent again, only the faint crackle of Shakky’s cigarette breaking the silence.
After a long moment, Rayleigh swirled his empty glass.
“This drink tonight… really has flavor.”
Shakky refilled it.
“He’s quite an interesting little one.”
Rayleigh drained it in one gulp, feeling the burn of liquor in his throat.
His gaze followed the direction Moren had left.
“Yeah… he really is.”
“If he survives… this sea is going to be stirred up again.”
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