Although Rayleigh returned to the bar, his uncertainties remained unaltered.
After incapacitating the Tokikake and extracting a substantial amount of money from Sengoku, why hadn't the Marines sought retribution? Not a whisper of news emerged either.
Even stranger was the deserted nature of the tavern. Sabaody Archipelago's taverns were typically bustling, unlike this one. Moreover, this particular establishment boasted opulent décor. The staff, strikingly, were impeccably presented, and notably, they were identical twins.
"Old man?" Ron teased Rayleigh, hitting a sensitive nerve. "Now that you've seen Shakky at night, don't your legs wobble?"
Rayleigh was left speechless. He attempted a rebuttal but found no combative words in his mind. Ron's observations were irrefutable. Age catches up, and the body isn't what it used to be.
Observing Rayleigh's discomfort, Ron ceased jesting, retrieving a bottle of wine from the cabinet instead.
"Enough probing," Ron asserted. "If I were part of the Marines, I'd have catch you,locked you up in Impel Down and thrown away the key."
"Catch me?" Rayleigh retorted, his pride evident.
"That depends on whether Sengoku has the nerve for a life or death battle."
It wasn't arrogance, just unshakeable confidence in personal prowess. Despite advancing age, starting a war with the Marines would only bring ruin to the Sabaody Archipelago.
This explained why the Marines were aware of Rayleigh's whereabouts yet refrained from instigating conflict.
Unfazed by Rayleigh's bravery, Ron simply smiled, uncorking the bottle and pouring the rich, brown wine into a glass.
Instantly, a heady aroma infused with a hint of Chinese medicine wafted through the tavern.
"Fine wine!" Rayleigh inhaled deeply, then exhaled with satisfaction, a contented expression gracing her face.
Even Rayleigh, having traversed the entire Grand Line, had never encountered an aroma quite like this wine.
"Give it a try," Ron urged, sliding the wine glass over. "This wine might reignite your former youth."
This was Pinyin wine, crafted from an array of medicinal ingredients and part of tiger's bone, enhanced by the blessings of the system. It was guaranteed to rejuvenate a man's vitality.
"Really?" Rayleigh's eyes brightened, but as he gazed at the contents within the wine bottle, a sense of familiarity struck him. Something with barbs on its surface... a nagging feeling of recognition tinged his thoughts.
Despite this odd sensation, the rich wine aroma seemed to open every pore in his body. An indescribable sense of relief washed over him.
Raising the wine glass, Rayleigh took a sip and couldn't help but praise, "Remarkable wine!"
The subtle infusion of Chinese medicine combined perfectly with the wine's sweetness. After a mild spiciness, a lingering sweetness enveloped the palate.
Then, an unfamiliar sensation coursed through his body—a surge of hormones and dopamine, followed by a rush of adrenaline—an arousal he hadn't experienced in years.
Ron grinned, inquiring, "How do you feel?"
"This might be the most satisfying glass of wine I've ever had," Rayleigh mused, momentarily lost in thought.
Despite his age, Rayleigh had consumed various tonics and elixirs, mostly scams aimed at draining one's wallet. However, this particular drink allowed the seventy year old to reconnect with his youthful vigor.
Ron asked curiously, "What do you mean?"
Rayleigh realized that being given Pinyin wine was akin to being used as a test subject, gauging the actual effectiveness of the medicine.
Gulp...
After finishing the remaining wine in his glass, Rayleigh smiled faintly and remarked, "I feel like I've been transported back to my youth!"
Ron: "!!!"
Could the medicinal effect of Pinyin wine truly be this potent? To rejuvenate an elderly man, one who's been through it all, to such a degree?
Yet, that might work to his advantage. It could justify raising the wine's price.
Ron stowed away the Pinyin wine, teasing with a grin, "Well, since Mr. Rayleigh seems occupied, how about settling the bill and taking your leave?"
At this, Rayleigh's smile froze, and he hastily responded, "Not leaving, not leaving. I'll forgo Shakky's Tavern and come here to praise your wine every day!"
He gestured eagerly towards the Pinyin wine in the cabinet, a clear "Hurry up and pour it" expression on his face.
Ron shook his head slightly, turned around, retrieved a bottle from the cabinet, and placed it on the bar, advising, "Just a single drink; your body might not handle too much."
"Give this a try; it's sure to please you."
Twisting the cap, Ron tilted the bottle, letting the wine cascade into the glass.
Rayleigh's cravings for alcohol were reignited as he inquired, "What's this?"
Unlike the previous Pinyin wine, this one exuded an elegant and delicate aroma, evoking an additional sense of comfort.
Ron softly stated, "Moutai."
Such an unfamiliar name...
Rayleigh mused internally, unable to resist lifting the glass and downing its contents.
Gulp...
A glint shimmered in Rayleigh's eyes, "Excellent wine!"
As the wine traversed his throat, he felt the distinctive delicacy and smoothness—no spicy jolts, only a velvety and refined texture.
In an instant, the age old brewing process of Moutai unveiled a unique and delightful taste, finally culminating in a rich, enduring flavor.
Enveloped in the unique pleasure derived from Moutai, Rayleigh couldn't resist the urge to indulge in a few more glasses.
"I'm deeply intrigued by the tales from the sea in the old days. Could you share some with me?" Ron inquired.
Ron poured himself a drink. "Once I've heard the story, I'll offer a discount on the wine," he replied with a smile.
It was the first time Rayleigh divulged his experiences to a stranger—from his initial struggle upon retirement to his ventures at sea. As he spoke of Roger, the corner of the old man's mouth lifted involuntarily.
As the narrative approached its conclusion, Rayleigh's demeanor gradually shifted, his eyes laden with life's hardships. "When Roger came to bid his final farewell, he left a message: 'I will not die.'"
"I won't die... Heh, does that mean someone will carry on his legacy?" Rayleigh's voice softened. He bowed his head, brushing away tears welling at the corners of his eyes, and whispered, "Roger, I yearn to sail with you once more."
Reminiscence, grief, sorrow...
Emotions surged, robbing the old man of the ease he initially exuded upon entering.
"Live the remainder of your days well; that's what Roger wished to witness," Rayleigh murmured.
Ron raised his glass. "To the past."
"I also honor the future!" Rayleigh echoed, raising his glass.
However, before their glasses could clink, a crisp doorbell interrupted the moment.
Creak...
The tavern's door swung open slowly, revealing a figure entering.
Ron glanced at the newcomer, muttering softly, "Is this for real?"
"The remaining four guests from other worlds are all people with the attributes of dog licking," he added incredulously.