"Report, Major General. Civilian rescue operations are now essentially complete."
The corporal wiped the sweat from his brow and snapped shut the ash-stained notebook.
"The severely injured soldiers have been prioritized for transfer to the medical ship to coordinate treatment with Hachinos Island's doctors. The lightly wounded are being treated at temporary town clinics. All other survivors have returned to the town."
"Good. Very good." Gern Reginald Sigmar gave a slight nod, his fingertips tapping against the hilt of Black Blade Hakkō.
In the distance, the sun painted the sea blood-red, merging with the lingering flames across the island.
He was about to inquire about the next steps when the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted his thoughts.
"Report!" A young Marine came running, barely able to catch his breath, the sleeves of his uniform scorched from fire-fighting.
"Lieutenant General Gern, we've discovered a hijacked adventure ship off the west coast. The people aboard claim to be scholars from Ohara."
"Ohara?" Gern's hand froze mid-tap on the hilt.
"That's correct," the soldier swallowed nervously before continuing. "What's strange is… they refused the Marine medical examination and are hastily trying to repair the ship to leave." He lowered his voice. "The unusual behavior raised the captain's suspicions and he sent me to consult with you directly, Major General."
The presence of Ohara scholars in the New World was already abnormal. What was even stranger was that these frail academics seemed to actively avoid their rescuers.
"Interesting." Gern let out a faint, dry laugh.
"They were rescued by the Marines… yet they don't look relieved at all. Instead, they're in a rush to run?" He turned, his Justice Cloak slicing through the air with a sharp, commanding curve.
"Let's go see what these scholars are up to."
Ribo trotted to catch up, her carrot-shaped daggers jingling at her waist.
"Gern… what if they're pretending to be the bad guys? Like that slave trafficker who disguised himself as a merchant last time?"
"Ribo, what are you thinking?" Tazolo's voice was deep, calm but wary. "Ohara is the holy land of scholars. Their interest lies solely in knowledge—nothing else."
"Really? Some people actually like knowledge?! That's terrifying!"
Gern and Tazolo exchanged a look, unamused.
Meanwhile, the sun's dying glow settled over Hachinos Island's west coast.
The adventure ship, looted by the Walde Pirates, sat quietly at the shore. Its hull bore jagged scars of past violence, each crack a silent witness to the chaos it had endured.
The main mast was broken in two, like a snapped sword thrust into the deck. Scattered maps and shattered instruments shimmered faintly in the evening light.
"Phew… finally." The middle-aged scholar adjusting his round spectacles let out a long sigh, removing his sweat-drenched soft cap.
His eyes behind the lenses scanned warily as the Marines retreated. "Meeting the Navy is worse than facing pirates, that's for sure!"
"Your reaction is… suspicious, Vi." A calm female voice emerged from the shadowed cabin.
The soft creak of wooden planks announced a woman in a long robe stepping forward.
Her waist-length snow-white hair fluttered in the wind, her eyes deep and composed.
She was archaeologist Nicole Orbia—Robin's mother.
The scholar, Vi, spun around sharply, furrowing his brow. "Orbia! Do you even realize what we're researching?"
He lowered his voice, his fingers brushing unconsciously over the spine of an ancient book he had picked up.
"Now that we're involved with the Marines, it's far more dangerous than facing ten Waldes! My reaction earlier was perfectly normal."
"Normal?" Orbia's hand traced one of the deep cracks on the ship's railing.
"A scholar freshly freed from pirate clutches would rush to refuse Marine escort? Deliberately avoid their help and medical care? Everything you just did reeks of problems."
"You…"
"Enough!" A commanding, aged voice rang from the upper deck.
Dr. Kuroba descended the gangplank, leaning on his oak cane. His silver-white beard trembled slightly with each step.
The two scholars immediately fell silent, bowing.
The old doctor's gaze lingered on Vi's reddened face before settling on Orbia.
"She's right. That Marine's eyes when he left… he probably already suspects something."
"And if they discover the historical texts aboard this ship…" A shout from the crowd sparked murmurs of panic.
The scholars exchanged worried glances, some hurriedly counting scattered documents, others staring hopelessly at the broken mast.
It would take at least three days to repair the ship. There was no way they could escape now.
"Quiet! Everyone, calm down!" Dr. Kuroba slammed his cane onto the deck, sending wood splinters flying.
Panic would be their undoing.
Once silence fell, he gazed toward the horizon. "All we can do now is hope that the lead officer doesn't turn his attention to us—'ordinary stranded scholars'…"
"I'm afraid that hope is misplaced, Doctor." Orbia stepped to the rail, her voice cold, cutting through their fleeting optimism.
"Don't forget—the ones who attacked and hijacked us are the 'World Destroyer,' a pirate with a bounty close to two billion. Anyone capable of hunting such a threat won't be simple…"
On the shore, Gern, Ribo, and Tazolo stood observing the battered ship. Gern's brow furrowed slightly.
Ribo's rabbit ears twitched as she glanced curiously around, while Tazolo stood slightly back, arms crossed, ever alert.
"Ohara scholars…" Gern murmured, recalling memories of the scholar's island.
Ohara had been renowned for historical research, a haven for serious academics. But its pursuit of the Void Century had led to its catastrophic downfall.
"They seem in a rush to pack up?" Ribo tilted her head, noticing the scholars' frantic movements.
"Perhaps there's something they don't want us to see." Gern gave a faint smile and started toward the ship.
The scholars noticed their approach, their expressions tightening with anxiety.
Vi hurried forward again, forcing a calm tone.
"Are you the officer in charge of this mission? I'm Vi, a scholar aboard this adventure ship. Thank you so much for the Navy's rescue! But we're fine now—we were just preparing to depart!"
Gern stopped in his tracks, eyes locking onto the man. A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.
"So… after being kidnapped by pirates, not a single formal word of thanks, and you're already in a rush to leave?"