Chapter Twenty-Five: The World-Weary Youth in the Tavern

After seeing the three off, Seiji returned to the tavern, ordered a large mug of beer, and sat at a table against the wall, sipping slowly.

Having left the navy, he now felt somewhat adrift. Though he had his own goals, he was at a loss as to where to begin.

“Is it time to recruit companions next?” Seiji gazed at the bubbles rising in his beer, murmuring softly to himself.

Recruiting companions was no easy task—he knew this all too well. “Sigh…”

“Sigh…”

To Seiji’s left sat a youth of seventeen or eighteen, who took a couple of deep gulps of his drink before letting out a heavy sigh. Turning to look at Seiji, the youth picked up his mug and shifted over. “Hey, kid, why the sigh?”

Seiji answered candidly, “I’m troubled about recruiting companions. And you? What’s got you sighing?”

The youth was already quite drunk, his cheeks flushed red. He hiccupped and said to Seiji, “Let me tell you, the girl I like ran off with someone else—to become a pirate! That bastard Mori, he stole away the love of my life.”

“You said you’re recruiting companions?”

“So, you want to be a damned pirate too? One of those beasts who only know how to bully civilians?”

“Don’t be foolish, brother. There’s no such thing as a great treasure—all these pirates are just a bunch of exploited madmen.”

“This world is beyond saving… ha ha ha…”

Seiji watched the youth ramble on and glanced around the tavern. This was, after all, a tavern, and many pirates were drinking here.

The youth’s words instantly provoked their anger. A tall, burly man stood up—his appearance and the reek of fish that clung to him betrayed years spent at sea as a pirate.

To insult pirates so openly—how could they endure it?

He strode over to the youth, grabbed him by the collar, and growled, “Drunk, are you, brat? What nonsense are you spouting? I’ll smash that filthy mouth of yours!”

The youth’s smile remained. “Am I not speaking the truth? A damned pirate wants to hit someone? There’s a navy base in this town, you know—I’m not afraid of you.”

Enraged, the pirate clenched his fists, veins bulging on his arms, and swung a punch straight at the youth’s head.

Seiji was just about to intervene when the youth, from who knows where, produced a short knife and slashed upwards. The pirate recoiled, releasing him, staring in disbelief at his own chest.

Blood quickly spread across the pirate’s shirt.

The youth plopped back into his chair. “Well? My scalpel’s sharp, isn’t it? You started it, bastard.”

“Argh…” the pirate groaned, pointing furiously at the youth. “Kill that brat for me!”

Several more burly men rose, this time armed with blades.

Seeing trouble brewing, the tavern owner immediately sent the waiters to slip out the back and summon the navy.

The pirates, murderous in their fury, closed in around the youth. The burly man seized a large blade from a companion and brought it down hard.

The youth swayed left and right, narrowly dodging the heavy blow. His silver scalpel flashed from his hand and, in a blink, lodged itself in the pirate’s neck.

“Hans!”

“You little bastard! I’ll tear you to pieces!”

The remaining pirates raised their blades and charged at the youth. Though Seiji had wanted to see what the youth could do, he was surprised to find the boy had slumped over the back of his chair and fallen asleep.

Seiji stepped in front of him, his arm coated with Armament Haki, blocking several attacks. In quick succession, he jabbed out with finger-gun strikes, and a few pirates collapsed, eyes rolled back, kneeling on the ground.

Hearing the commotion outside, Seiji slung the drunken, unconscious youth over his shoulder and asked the owner, “Where’s the back door?”

The owner’s expression was grim, his head shaking furiously.

Seiji flexed his fist.

Instantly, the owner plastered on a smile, his demeanor changing as he directed Seiji to a way out, even adding a word of welcome for next time…

Seiji slipped out the back, heading straight for the ships docked at the harbor.

Soon after, he saw a squad of navy men with torches making their way toward the docks. Seiji raised the anchor, unfurled the sails, and his ship slipped away from the harbor, vanishing into the darkness.

The next day dawned bright and clear.

The youth awoke from his stupor with a frown, drawing in a sharp breath. “Ugh… my head hurts…”

“Was it the drinking yesterday? I broke my own rule… Wait, yesterday… I killed someone!”

He sat bolt upright from the floor, chest heaving as he desperately tried to recall the events of the previous night. The image of his scalpel piercing the pirate’s throat flickered through his mind, though it was hazy. He didn’t want to believe it.

But seeing the bloodstains on his clothes, his pupils shook—the blood that had spurted from the pirate’s ruptured throat. He clutched his head in anguish. “I killed someone… I actually killed someone…”

“Will I be caught and executed? This can’t be happening!”

Seiji emerged from the cabin carrying two glasses of lemonade. Seeing the youth curled up on the floor, he said, “Hey, you’re awake. Don’t worry, I’ve already taken you away—no way the navy can catch you now.”

“And you are…?”

The youth looked up, bleary-eyed, and after a moment’s thought blurted out, “You’re that pirate who was trying to recruit companions!”

Seiji smiled. “Not a pirate—haven’t thought of a name for us yet. But, you’ve no way back now.”

“Want to set out to sea with me?”

Seiji sat in a nearby chair, took a sip of lemonade, and with a sour expression, extended the invitation.

The youth was still shaken, staring blankly at the deck before him.

Seiji said casually, “You don’t have to join the crew. I can drop you at the next town.”

After a long silence, the youth stood up.

“I’ll come aboard. But I’ll never be a pirate.”

He’d made up his mind. There was nothing left for him on that island. Even if he wasn’t arrested upon return, he’d lose his job and struggle to find another.

Who would hire a murderer?

He might as well see where the sea would take him. But as for becoming a pirate, pillaging and killing—he could never do that. After all, his parents had been murdered by those damned pirates.

Seiji gestured for him to sit in the chair beside him.

The youth sat down, reaching for the lemonade on the table. Seiji flicked his hand away. “What are you doing? That’s for me. If you want a drink, make your own.”

Seiji continued, “By the way, what’s your name? What can you do? Can you fight?”

“My name is Chizuki Shimada. I’m a doctor. I can’t fight…”

Seiji narrowed his eyes. “Can’t fight? You seemed pretty formidable yesterday—took down a pirate twice your size in a few moves. How’s that not fighting?”

Chizuki recalled the scene from last night, fear washing over his face. He shook his head. “I really can’t fight. That was just an accident…”