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Chapter 10: The Simple and Unpretentious Life of Pirates
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 08:30:14 +0000 UTCAs night fell, the waves rolled endlessly.
In the cabin, Kelsey lay sprawled in his hammock, faint bruises still dotting his face and bandages wrapped around his body. Yet his mouth couldn't help but curl upward in a smile.
In his dreams, he stood atop a palace built of gold, wielding a black-gold naginata with wave patterns flowing along its blade.
Before him stretched an endless fleet of Navy ships, their admiral staring at him with a grave expression. With just a gentle swing of his blade, the entire sea split like fabric, monstrous waves towering high as the fleet was annihilated. Countless treasures and beauties flowed toward him as he sat upon his golden throne, accepting the kowtowing allegiance of countless powerful warriors...
"Keke keke keke..."
An eerie, arrogant cackle emerged from Kyle's throat, sounding particularly jarring in the quiet cabin.
Rayleigh, who had been polishing his sword by the door, paused mid-motion and helplessly pressed his hand to his forehead. This kid couldn't even dream quietly. He tiptoed out of the cabin, leaving this space to the dreamer.
On deck, moonlight flowed like water across the sparkling sea surface, casting scattered silver fragments.
Roger sat alone at the bow, leaning against the figurehead as he tilted back a large gulp of rum.
"Did he wake you?" Roger asked without turning around, his voice tinged with amusement.
"Not really," Rayleigh sat down beside him, placing his sword across his lap. "Just some kid cackling in his sleep."
"Gua ha ha ha! Must be quite the interesting dream!" Roger took another swig and turned to look at Rayleigh. "Speaking of which, you saw that strike this afternoon, right?"
"Yeah." Rayleigh adjusted his glasses. "Good thinking, and he timed it well."
"More than well!" Roger's eyes shone brilliantly as he pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "That power actually made me feel a tiny bit threatened! About this much! Gua ha ha ha!"
At these words, Rayleigh's gaze behind his glasses grew profound. He pondered for a moment before speaking: "It's not just the power, Roger. Haven't you noticed something odd about Kyle's performance in the later stages of this month's 'Barrage of Love' training?"
"Oh?" Roger perked up with interest. "What's odd about it?"
"At first, he relied on his eyes and ears—pure physical instinct. But this past week," Rayleigh recalled the evening's scene, his tone carrying a hint of inquiry, "his evasive movements have become increasingly mind-boggling. Several times, the plank I threw and the fish you threw from behind him arrived almost simultaneously, yet he always managed to dodge them in the most extreme, effortless way possible. Could it be that he's..."
After listening, Roger's smile faded slightly. He fell silent for a moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh and burst into thunderous laughter.
"Gua ha ha ha ha! So that's it! Observation Haki."
Of course, he'd noticed too. He just wasn't one to analyze like Rayleigh—he trusted his instincts more.
In Kyle, he sensed a budding aura, the embryonic form of a power that could briefly foresee the future.
"That kid probably doesn't have a clue yet." Rayleigh looked toward the cabin, a playful curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
"It's more fun when he doesn't know! Gua ha ha ha!" Roger drained the last drop from his bottle and casually tossed the empty container toward the sea, where it splashed up a small wave.
He stood up, spreading his arms wide to embrace the sea breeze, as if wanting to hug this starry ocean.
Watching his eternally energetic captain, Rayleigh couldn't help but chuckle softly.
He adjusted his glasses and cast his gaze once more toward the deep night sky, murmuring quietly:
"What a... incredible monster we've picked up."
"Gua ha ha ha ha ha!"
Roger's bold, unrestrained laughter carried far across the quiet sea, startling a few circling seabirds.
THUD—!
A muffled sound came from the cabin as Kyle tumbled out of bed, followed by his grumbling curses:
"Damn, captain! What's with all the laughing?! I was just getting to the good part of my dream!"
"Gua ha ha ha ha ha!"
...........
My name is Kyle, and I'm a student.
Fake teacher: Rayleigh—corrupting the youth.
Real teacher: Kaido—one club for Ryuo, two clubs for advanced Conqueror’s, three clubs for Devil Fruit Awakening… instant Emperor-level results!
That's how the fans back in Kyle's past life used to joke about it. Looking at it now, it wasn't entirely accurate—at least the young Rayleigh could be considered a decent teacher.
Should be, probably, maybe... cough cough!
Having latched onto Roger and Rayleigh's coattails, Kyle felt no shame about being a "nepo baby." Right now, he felt scary strong. (Tactical lean-back)
Kyle couldn't wait for some clueless pirates to come rob them so he could properly test his training results. Though their current ship was so beat-up that even pirates would probably take pity and donate a hundred berries.
No time to mourn the broken ship—next up, we have Roger and Rayleigh, starting the newbie village at vice-captain level!
Random pirate mooks: This is way too high-level for us
Family, who can relate? It's like newbie village mobs running into heroes returning victorious from slaying the Demon King. No point even trying.
WHAM—!
Roger's simple, unpretentious supreme fist interrupted Kyle's wandering thoughts, raising a visible bump on his head.
"Damn, captain! What are you doing?!"
Wah wah wah, I'm reporting you for child abuse!
"Gua ha ha ha! Come and catch me!" Roger laughed heartlessly as he ran off.
Kyle's eyes practically shot flames as he immediately gave chase, the two of them—one big, one small—running around the cabin like kids.
Watching the two immature guys on the ship playing tag, Rayleigh rubbed his forehead wearily, feeling mentally exhausted and seeing nothing but darkness ahead.
...
Navigation is eternal romance, but also endless solitude.
Kyle had come up with this philosophical observation a week ago while staring blankly at that unchanging line dividing sea and sky.
Adventure? Exciting encounters? Not a chance.
Pirate life was always simple, unpretentious, and boring.
Since leaving that nameless island, they'd been drifting at sea for nearly two months.
Aside from the occasional clueless Sea King trying to make their beat-up ship into a post-meal snack—only to get put to sleep by Roger's blade—the days were as bland as plain water.
"Oh! Ocean, you're nothing but water!" Kyle felt like he was about to sprout mushrooms.
He sat cross-legged at the bow, listlessly extending one finger.
The air in front of his fingertip vibrated slightly, and a gentle breeze appeared from nowhere, circling around the sail on the mast before playfully tousling Rayleigh's golden bangs.
Rayleigh looked up, shooting him a look over his book that clearly said, "Mess around again and no dinner tonight."
The troublemaker, Kyle, gave an awkward laugh and sheepishly pulled his hand back.
Over the past month, besides hellish physical training, he'd spent most of his time practicing fine control over his Wave-Wave Fruit powers.
Like this little trick he'd named [Morning Breeze]—manipulating tiny air vibrations to create currents. In the doldrums, he could even moonlight as a sail-filling blower.
More often than not, though, he served as Roger's human air conditioner.
"Little Kyle! Over here, over here! Make it a bit cooler!" Roger lay sprawled on the deck like a dried-out salted fish, holding an enormous roasted meat leg.
Kyle rolled his eyes and reluctantly waved his hand in Roger's direction, sending a refreshing cool breeze his way.
This was his daily routine aboard ship now.
Under Roger and Rayleigh's devil training, his body was visibly becoming stronger and more resilient.
His strength, speed, and endurance were incomparable to before. His mastery of the Wave-Wave Fruit was also becoming more sophisticated—no longer the rookie who only knew one move: [Shock Fist].
He could feel himself constantly growing stronger, but he still lacked an outlet to unleash it all.
Kyle was like a blade that had finished being forged but had yet to be sharpened, desperately craving an exhilarating battle to test his edge.
Man, that would be sweet!
Daily sparring with Roger? That wasn't battle—that was one-sided beatdown.
"Ahhhh—so boring!" Kyle howled at the sky and collapsed face-first onto the deck. "Anything would be fine! Navy! Pirates! Even a meteor!"
"Gua ha ha ha! The little guy's got plenty of energy!" Roger finished the last bite of meat, casually tossed the bone into the sea, and sprang up with a carp-like flip. "Want another round of 'Barrage of Love' training?"
Kyle jolted and instantly bounced up from the ground, eyeing Roger and Rayleigh—who had somehow already put down his book—with alarm.
"No! Absolutely not!" He got PTSD just looking at sea fish and barrels now. That bastard Roger's supreme sea fish always aimed straight for his butt.
Just then, Rayleigh, who had been reading nearby, suddenly spoke up.
"You two," his voice was calm, "we have visitors."
"Hm?" Roger and Kyle both looked up.
"Three o'clock northeast direction, a three-masted ship heading our way." Rayleigh set down his book. "Moving fast, and judging by the flag, they're pirates."
