One Piece: The True Codex

When William woke up again, Kuro still hadn't returned to the cabin. William didn't mind and went to find the old pirate Hatcheson, who had shown him around the ship the day before. Together, they busied themselves with the daily tasks aboard the ship.

Life at sea was monotonous, and managing the sails was a heavy and tedious job. Sail adjustments were necessary to catch the ever-shifting winds, which required constant attention. Additionally, to prevent the outbreak of diseases, maintaining hygiene on the ship was essential. Cleaning the deck with seawater became a daily ritual.

While scrubbing the deck, William deliberately recounted his confrontation with Kuro in the cabin the previous night, speaking in a boastful tone to Hatcheson and the other nearby pirates.

The reactions of the old pirates confirmed just how unpopular Kuro was on the ship. When they heard William describe how Kuro had "fled in disgrace," they all burst into hearty laughter.

After laughing, Hatcheson rubbed his red, bulbous nose and pulled out a brass flask from his pocket. He took a swig of liquor before passing it to a nearby companion. Then, he kindly advised William, "You shouldn't be so reckless. You've just come aboard, and there's still a lot you don't understand about this ship."

The brass flask passed from pirate to pirate before finally reaching William. Without hesitation, he grabbed it, took a big gulp like the others, and wiped the liquor from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. With a carefree grin, he replied, "Don't worry. He's no match for me."

One of the old pirates chuckled and said, "Hatcheson isn't worried about you losing to him; he's worried that if you two clash, the captain might take his side."

Feigning confusion, William asked, "What? Is he one of the captain's trusted men?"

"More than that," another pirate sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "He's the captain's loyal dog. He watches everyone on the ship like a hawk, making sure every piece of loot is accounted for. It's like he's terrified someone might take what belongs to his master."

Another pirate chimed in, "I wouldn't say he's the captain's dog. He doesn't seem to have the same level of trust as the first mate or Mr. Hayreddin."

William blinked, processing the information. Clearly, not everyone on the ship was a fool. While Kuro's true nature was known only to the Red-Beard Brothers and a select few, some had speculated that Kuro might be a spy sent by another faction. However, they didn't know exactly who Kuro was working for.

Even so, this didn't change the pirates' attitude toward Kuro. It wasn't necessarily about his personality or behavior—it was purely about self-interest.

Every piece of loot a pirate claimed was often paid for with their own blood or that of their comrades. Pirates weren't the hot-blooded protagonists of a shonen manga, driven by lofty dreams and unrealistic ideals. Most pirates lived lives of violence and bloodshed, pursuing nothing more than wealth and treasure.

Their short-sightedness prevented them from understanding the importance of intelligence and logistical support. All they saw was someone taking a significant share of the spoils they had risked their lives to obtain, which they deemed unfair.

"Alright, enough talk," Hatcheson said, spotting Reis approaching from a distance. He quickly stashed the flask back in his pocket and urged William and the others to get back to work. Before resuming his tasks, he gave William one last piece of advice: "It doesn't matter whose dog he is; whoever's behind him isn't someone we can afford to provoke. So next time, don't be so impulsive, Stolt."

Meanwhile, in Maple Village, a modest merchant ship slowly docked at the pier. Sherlock, looking somewhat haggard, disembarked with a suitcase in hand. The bustling dock was teeming with people, yet the area around Edmond and Aramis, who were waiting for him, remained conspicuously empty.

As soon as Sherlock appeared, Edmond and Aramis approached him together.

Sherlock carried a leather suitcase. Noticing his weary appearance, Aramis offered to carry it for him, but Sherlock politely declined.

Aramis didn't insist and instead said, "I've already asked Tony to prepare a place for you to stay."

Sherlock nodded in acknowledgment, silently expressing his gratitude. It wasn't that he was being rude—he was simply too exhausted to speak.

After committing murder, Sherlock had immediately fled the headquarters of his family's business. However, this didn't mean he had abandoned all of his family's wealth.

As the saying goes, "A cunning rabbit has three burrows." In a world plagued by pirates, merchants understood this principle better than anyone. Concentrating all one's wealth in a single location was a recipe for disaster; a single pirate raid could wipe out years of effort.

The Flash Gold Guild had accumulated considerable wealth over several generations. While Sherlock had to abandon most of the business operations within the borders of the Navia Kingdom, he wasn't about to leave behind the portable assets—cash, antiques, and other valuables—that he could take or hide.

Taking advantage of the fact that Arcadio Buendía hadn't yet received news of his actions—or hadn't had time to react—Sherlock had been tirelessly relocating his assets. The process had been rushed, resulting in some losses, but he couldn't afford to dwell on them. Only now could he finally take a moment to rest.

Sherlock followed Aramis and Edmond to a small courtyard that had been prepared in advance. He had no interest in inspecting the environment. The moment he saw the soft bed in the bedroom, his body gave out, and he collapsed onto it. Before long, the sound of his snores filled the room.

Edmond and Aramis exchanged a glance, quietly left the room, and closed the door behind them.

Sherlock slept until the next morning, waking only when hunger roused him. When he opened the door to his bedroom, he found Edmond and Aramis sitting in the living room, eating breakfast.

Sherlock had heard that the two had grown distant after Vallon's death. But now, while they weren't exactly close, they seemed more mature than before. Gone were the days when they openly displayed their animosity toward each other.

Seeing Sherlock, Edmond smiled and gestured to an extra plate of breakfast on the table. "I figured you'd wake up hungry."

After a good night's sleep, Sherlock looked much better. He thanked Edmond, pulled out a chair, and sat down. With a wry smile, he said, "I'm a wanted man now. I honestly don't know where else to go, so I had to trouble you."

"William already knows about your situation," Edmond said. "He asked me to tell you to stay here and rest easy. This place is safe."

Hearing William's name, Sherlock voiced the question that had been nagging at him. "Where is William? I haven't seen him."

"William is currently aboard Red-Beard Barbarossa's ship," Edmond replied.

Sherlock's expression immediately darkened. Edmond realized his incomplete explanation had caused a misunderstanding and quickly clarified, "He's safe. He boarded the ship under a false identity."

Sherlock relaxed slightly but warned, "Barbarossa is not someone to be trifled with. This isn't news you should casually share with others."

Aramis interjected, "William said you're not an outsider."

Sherlock's hand, which had been moving his knife and fork, paused for a moment. After experiencing such highs and lows, hearing those words deeply moved him.

He blinked slowly, then smiled at Edmond and Aramis. "Sorry, I guess I was being too formal."

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