"I'll be going now. See you later," Shirakawa said, having no intention of staying on Weatheria overnight. While the island was beautiful and unique, he wasn't ready to settle down just yet.
"How will you leave?" Haredas asked, curious.
"The same way I arrived," Shirakawa said, walking to the edge of the island and looking down. The ground was far below, hidden by clouds.
"You're not going to jump, are you?" Haredas asked, alarmed.
"That's right."
"No! We have special devices for flying if you want to leave!" Haredas was worried. If something happened to Shirakawa, their future research funding would be in jeopardy.
"Don't worry," Shirakawa reassured him, then turned around, leaned back, and fell off the edge.
Haredas rushed to the edge, but Shirakawa was already out of sight.
"Where did he go?" the other meteorologists asked, seeing only Haredas.
"He fell," Haredas said dejectedly, assuming the worst.
"Fell? But we haven't even discussed his house yet!"
"You didn't push him, did you? Just because you got less money?" one of them accused Haredas.
"Of course not, you idiot!" Haredas retorted. "He said he'd be fine. He flew up here, after all."
"That doesn't mean he can't fall to his death."
"What should we do? Should we still build his house?"
"Of course. He gave us a lot of money. We should honor his wish, even if he's gone."
"Yes, and we'll make it extra luxurious, in his memory."
The scientists discussed Shirakawa's "funeral" arrangements, completely unaware that he was perfectly fine.
Shirakawa was enjoying the sensation of freefall. He had always been a cautious person in his past life, avoiding thrilling rides and activities. But now, soaring through the air gave him a sense of peace and exhilaration.
Eventually, he spotted an island below. It was quite large, with several towns visible from the sky. There was even a Marine base.
'That's where I'll go,' Shirakawa decided. He needed a bigger ship if he wanted to explore the world, and this island seemed like a good place to find one.
The Marine base on a small island like this probably wouldn't have any particularly strong fighters. Shirakawa was confident he could infiltrate it without any trouble.
He landed on the coast. It was evening, and most people were likely having dinner at home. No one noticed his arrival.
He sensed the nearest town and headed towards it. Thankfully, he had kept some money for himself and hadn't given it all to the meteorologists. Otherwise, he'd have no money for food and lodging.
The town was bustling with activity, its streets lit by lanterns. People were out and about, enjoying the evening air, and Marines patrolled the streets, maintaining order.
'This town seems pretty safe,' Shirakawa thought.
Perhaps because he wasn't famous yet, the Marines didn't recognize him, even though he was walking around openly. Or maybe they simply didn't expect a pirate with a 150 million berry bounty to be strolling through their town so casually.
Shirakawa entered a lively-looking tavern. He hadn't been much of a drinker in his past life, but Shanks had corrupted him.
It was true what they said: it was easy for a bad influence to lead a good person astray.
"Welcome! What can I get for you, young man?" The bartender was a bald man with a friendly smile.
"Fried rice, grilled meat, and a beer, please," Shirakawa ordered, looking at the reasonably priced menu.
"Coming right up!"
Shirakawa took a seat at the bar. He didn't need a whole table to himself.
The food arrived quickly, and the bartender started polishing the glasses in front of Shirakawa. It seemed to be a habit of bartenders everywhere, some preferring to clean glasses, others plates.
"You're not from this island, are you?" the bartender asked, glancing at Shirakawa.
"No, I just arrived."
"I thought so. I'd definitely remember a face like yours. But I feel like I've seen you somewhere before..." The bartender trailed off, lost in thought.
"Maybe you're mistaken, or you've met someone who looks like me."
"No, I'm sure I've seen you before." The bartender seemed determined to figure it out, even neglecting his other customers.
After finishing his meal, Shirakawa paid and left. The bartender was still pondering where he had seen him.
"Where was it?" he muttered, staring at Shirakawa's retreating back.
Suddenly, it hit him. He frantically searched through a stack of wanted posters in the corner, finally finding the one that matched his memory.
"That's him!" he exclaimed, looking at the picture on the poster. "150 million berry bounty!"
The bartender was alarmed. Pirates with such high bounties were usually ruthless criminals. Though Shirakawa seemed polite and well-mannered, who knew what lurked beneath the surface?
He didn't go to the Marines immediately. It was better to avoid trouble. But he memorized Shirakawa's face, just in case the pirate returned to his tavern.