"Didn't the person who asked you to wait for us tell you where to take us?" Piro's voice cut through the quiet hum of the dock as he addressed the ship's captain.
The captain, a burly man with sun-weathered skin, lazily leaned against the ship's railing. He took a long sip from the beer in his hand, swaying slightly.
"Of course not," he said with a grin, his words slurred from intoxication. "That guy just paid me to wait for you!"
Piro frowned. "Then where are we supposed to go?"
The captain laughed, patting the side of the ship affectionately. "Beats me. He didn't say a word about that. Thought you lot already knew where you were headin'!"
Piro's eyes narrowed. The answer made perfect sense—too much sense. Haizo had always been cautious, but this confirmed his suspicions. Haizo must have anticipated that the Kuruta people might be intercepted, or worse, betrayed. By not disclosing the destination, he ensured the safety of those who had escaped ahead of time.
But there was a glaring problem.
Now, with Haizo nowhere in sight, they were stranded without direction.
Piro sighed. He turned to glance at the small crowd of Kuruta people gathered at the dock. Nearly twenty of them huddled together, their eyes darting nervously at the foreign surroundings. Most of them couldn't speak the local language, save for Piro and Rocky.
The others, although clearly uneasy, avoided voicing their concerns aloud.
The captain scanned the group, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You know," he muttered, "for such a big group, none of ya seem real chatty. 'Cept for you two kids." His gaze lingered on Piro and Rocky, the youngest of the group. "Weird bunch, if you ask me."
Piro ignored him, crossing his arms in frustration.
At that moment, Rocky, who had been standing silently, stepped forward. His sharp eyes were fixed on the distant edge of town.
"Just start the boat," Rocky said suddenly.
The captain raised an eyebrow. "And where to?"
"Follow the direction I point to."
Piro looked over at Rocky in surprise. "Rocky, we don't know—"
Rocky cut him off with a subtle glance.
Piro followed his gaze toward the street leading to the port. Two men had just stepped out of a car.
Nobunaga and Franklin.
Piro's heart sank.
If the two of them were here, it meant the Phantom Troupe was still after them.
"Get moving!" Rocky's voice held no room for argument.
The captain hesitated for a moment but shrugged. "Your money, your call."
He turned toward his crew. "You heard him! Full speed!"
The sailors scrambled, untying ropes and preparing the ship for departure.
Rocky stood at the bow, discreetly tracking Nobunaga and Franklin's movements.
"They're looking this way," Rocky muttered under his breath.
Piro stiffened. "You think they saw us?"
"Doesn't matter. We need to leave now."
The ship lurched forward, and the dock began to drift away.
Rocky pointed vaguely toward the open sea. "That way."
The captain squinted in the direction Rocky indicated. "You sure about that, kid?"
Rocky's eyes darted back to the shore. Nobunaga and Franklin were now walking briskly toward the pier.
"Positive. Don't slow down."
The captain chuckled. "Alright, whatever you say."
He tossed the half-empty beer bottle overboard. "Hey, Geralt! I'll take the wheel myself."
One of the sailors stepped aside as the captain gripped the helm, steering the ship with a steady hand.
Rocky leaned against the railing, still watching as the two Phantom Troupe members stopped at the port's edge.
Nobunaga laughed as he gazed out at the retreating vessel. "They slipped away," he said, almost sounding amused.
Franklin didn't share his sentiment. "You don't seem too eager to catch them."
Nobunaga smirked. "I'm not. Uvogin wants this one for himself. Let him deal with it."
Franklin grunted but said nothing.
As the ship continued toward the horizon, Rocky finally relaxed.
Piro approached him, his expression weary. "What now?"
Rocky sighed, resting his head against the railing. "We keep moving."
"But where are we supposed to go?"
Rocky ran a hand through his hair, his eyes drifting to the group of Kuruta people gathered toward the center of the deck.
"We'll figure it out," he said. "If we can get them contact lenses, they'll be fine."
Piro blinked. "Contact lenses?"
"Yeah. The people from the mountains don't know about them. If they wear lenses, no one will notice their eyes. It'll keep them safe."
Piro's lips curved into a faint smile. "That's not a bad idea."
"For now, let's get to the next port," Rocky yawned. "I need to rest."
He slumped onto the deck, folding his arms behind his head. Piro sat beside him, gazing out at the sea.
But peace didn't last long.
A sudden jolt shook the entire vessel, rousing Rocky from his sleep.
He sat up, squinting at the waves around them. "We there yet?"
The crew was bustling about, voices rising in excitement.
Piro ran over, panic etched across his face. "Rocky… there's a problem."
Rocky rubbed his eyes. "What now?"
Piro pointed toward the horizon. "The direction you pointed at earlier… It's the Devil's Sea."
Rocky frowned. "Devil's Sea?"
Piro nodded grimly. "They say no ship that enters ever returns."
Rocky shot to his feet. "Tell the captain to turn around!"
"I tried. He refused."
"What?!"
Piro looked helpless. "He said once the destination is set, this ship doesn't turn back."
Rocky stared at him. "That's insane."
Laughter erupted from the sailors nearby.
"Finally! We're headed to the Devil's Sea!"
"After all these years, we're gonna see it!"
Rocky narrowed his eyes. "These guys are nuts."
At the helm, the captain grinned, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"The sea calls to us!" he whispered.
Suddenly, a crack of lightning split the sky.
Dark clouds rolled in, and the wind howled.
Rocky's grip tightened on the railing.
"Great," he muttered. "Now we're stuck on a ship full of lunatics sailing straight into a storm."