Martha, looking at Gojo, said, "I have placed one month of food on your ship."
Gojo turned his head toward the workers carrying box after box up the gangplank, stacking them neatly inside his ship. From the faint thuds and the shuffle of feet, he could tell those crates held everything Martha had mentioned—supplies for his long journey. With his blindfold still on, he shifted his face back toward her and said, "You didn't have to do all this. You didn't even charge me for any of these supplies."
Martha smiled warmly. "We're friends, aren't we? This much I can do for you. And anyway, you've done plenty for me. Because of your constant supply of meat from your hunts, I was able to sell it in the market, gain quite a reputation, and even open a meat-selling business on top of my restaurant. So you've helped me a lot."
Hearing this, Gojo nodded lightly. "As you wish."
Then he turned toward Seto—the first cartman who had brought Gojo's very first hunt into Shellpoint Town and who, over time, had become something like an assistant or even a right-hand man, handling countless chores while Gojo focused on training. A faint sea breeze brushed past Gojo as he looked at him. The ocean ahead was going to be treacherous, and he couldn't take any unnecessary risks by bringing someone like Seto along. Although their bond was close, they both understood the truth: with his meagre strength, Seto would only become a burden out there, and he couldn't abandon his family or his village for the sake of any adventure. It's better this way, Gojo thought, a quiet resolve settling in his chest.
Gojo said to Seto, "I believe that with Martha, you'll be able to continue growing and won't face any difficulties in the future, even without me here in Shellpoint Town or Cloverbook Village."
Seto gave a deep, respectful bow. "This is all because of you. You supported me and helped me reach my current position in life. For that, I will always be grateful."
Gojo nodded once, then turned toward Kishimoto. "I will fulfill my promise."
Kishimoto returned a simple nod. Turning to Yamashiro next, Gojo said, "It was fun sparring with you."
Yamashiro smiled and nodded back, eyes reflecting genuine warmth.
After offering his final words to everyone, Gojo turned and began walking toward his docked ship. The faint creak of the wooden planks and the salty breeze brushing against his clothes followed him. He soon boarded. He had asked the shipwright to build the vessel so he could operate it entirely on his own, and he had done exactly that. With a steady motion, Gojo set the sails, and the ship slowly drifted away from the dock, the ropes tightening and the hull groaning softly as it caught the wind.
As the distance grew, Gojo removed his blindfold and slipped on a black sunglass. He turned back toward the town and the island where he had lived for the past five years. Five years… and now, finally, a voyage. His friends waved from the shore, their silhouettes growing smaller, and Gojo raised a hand to wave back one last time.
Soon, the ship was far from the dock, the shoreline shrinking into the horizon. Gojo walked to the front of the ship, facing the open sea. The vessel glided forward at a perfect, steady pace, carrying him toward the vast unknown stretching endlessly ahead.
Just as Martha, Kishimoto, Seto, and Yamashiro were about to leave the dock—and had only just turned around—Kishimoto suddenly froze. His gaze fixed on a large group of Frauce Kingdom soldiers marching toward them in tight formation. The sound of synchronized footsteps echoed across the wooden pier. Leading the group was a familiar man: James.
James had once been a student of Kishimoto, the very student who held the record for mastering basic swordsmanship the fastest in Kishimoto's dojo—at least until Gojo shattered that record. James had graduated from Kishimoto's dojo and risen steadily through the ranks; now he held a prominent position in the Frauce Kingdom's military.
Before James even reached him, Kishimoto stepped forward and asked, "What happened?"
James bowed respectfully. "It's good to see you again, Master. But you should leave the dock immediately. We've just received word from the Marines—a large pirate group is heading toward Shellpoint Town."
Kishimoto frowned, confused. "Which pirate group would make the kingdom deploy so many soldiers behind you?"
James's expression turned solemn, his voice low and heavy. "The Krieg Pirates. The infamous group with five thousand members. They're heading straight toward this town, and from the looks of it, they're planning to dock here. Not only am I here, but the General himself is on his way with additional reinforcements. The Marines stationed in our kingdom are also moving out and will arrive soon."
Kishimoto was stunned. Martha, Seto, Yamashiro—everyone who had gathered to see Gojo off—felt their chests tighten with the same shock. Instinctively, they all turned toward the sea, toward Gojo's ship, which was already nothing more than a distant silhouette on the horizon.
And then, not far behind that fading silhouette, they saw it—dark shapes multiplying on the water. A massive fleet was emerging from the horizon, ship after ship cutting through the waves.
The Krieg Pirates' fleet had arrived.
Martha immediately spoke up, concern trembling in her voice. "Oh my god… why did he have to face such an infamous pirate group the moment he left?"
Hearing her, James—who knew Martha well—turned toward her. "Martha, who are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Gojo, who just set sail today. Look—there, that's his ship," she said, pointing toward the tiny speck on the ocean.
James's brows lifted slightly. He had heard that name before. "You mean that blindfolded boy? The one whose reputation as the most handsome guy in all of Shellpoint Town has spread everywhere?"
Martha nodded. James brought a monocular to his eye, adjusting the focus as the sea breeze fluttered across his cloak. After a moment of silent observation—Gojo's lone ship drifting forward, and the massive Krieg fleet spreading across the horizon—James exhaled slowly. "The situation is quite grim. Their paths are definitely going to intersect. A conflict is almost certain."
The tension in the group rose instantly—but Kishimoto, after a brief moment of worry like everyone else, remembered the reality of Gojo's strength. His shoulders eased, and he said to Martha, "You don't need to worry. He's far too powerful to be harmed by those ruffians. They can't do anything to him."
James turned sharply toward Kishimoto, confusion clear on his face. "Master… are you certain? Is he really that powerful?"
Kishimoto let out a soft breath and smiled, not boastfully, but with the calm certainty of someone who had witnessed overwhelming power firsthand. "Even if I use my full strength, I can't last more than three moves against him— and that's when he's holding back. So you can imagine just how powerful he truly is."
Hearing this assessment from Kishimoto, James was utterly shocked. Very few people truly understood Kishimoto's strength—but James did. He knew that even the General of the Frauce Kingdom's army, the man praised as the strongest warrior in the entire kingdom, would struggle to defeat Kishimoto. That too, using only his left hand and being weaker than in his prime, Kishimoto in his prime would most likely win.
In reality, Kishimoto was the strongest person in the Frauce Kingdom. But because he never wished for fame or authority, almost nobody knew this except a handful of people. The Queen herself was aware of his true power and had attempted many times to recruit him, offering him the position of Second-in-Command—just below the General. But Kishimoto had rejected every offer without hesitation.
Still stunned, James asked, "Master, why didn't you tell anyone about his strength? If you had, the kingdom would've offered him a high position—riches, status… we could have recruited him!"
Kishimoto let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Do you really think a man of his caliber would stay in a small kingdom like ours? Someone like him… he belongs in the Grand Line."
James froze, the words hitting him with the weight of truth. The breeze shifted, carrying the distant scent of salt and the faint sound of waves crashing. What Kishimoto said made perfect sense. A young man that powerful—if he set foot in the Grand Line—would carve out a name for himself and earn wealth and fame that far surpassed anything a small kingdom could offer.
----
Want to get daily updates and read chapters on a daily basis? Then join my Patreon!
Patreon Link: https://[email protected]/Hkj822
Join Discord Link: https://discord.gg/Ab9HdNbK