Capítulo 185: Pirate Wisdom #185
erched casually upon the railing of the Golden Ape, the ship that had become his domain, Cedric's eyes wandered lazily across the bustling scene before him.
The dockside atmosphere seemed to hum with a mixture of activity and relaxation, an eclectic blend of people and purpose. His attention, however, was drawn away from the intricate choreography of the port by a figure approaching with deliberate steps.
Killer's presence, though not overtly imposing, exuded a sense of purpose that was unmistakable. Cedric's lips curved into a wry grin as his shipmate's gaze fell upon the bottle of rum that had found its way into Cedric's hand. A chuckle bubbled forth, accompanied by a knowing lift of his eyebrow. "Still the same old alcoholic, I see," Killer remarked, his tone carrying a hint of bemused reproach.
Cedric's laughter lingered in the air like a melody, the sound of camaraderie and familiarity. "Only the most violent one," he retorted with a playful glint in his eyes.
A silent invitation was extended, a gesture that needed no words. Cedric shifted, creating space on the railing for Killer to join him. "Come on up," he offered, his voice an easy blend of casual warmth.
As Killer gracefully leapt onto the ship's deck, Cedric's gaze followed his movements. There was something comforting in the fluidity of Killer's actions, a familiarity that came with years of shared experiences.
"So, how's Kid doing? Beside his ego, that is," Cedric inquired, his words threaded with genuine interest. The relationship between Kid and Cedric was a unique one, built upon both camaraderie and a healthy dose of competition.
Killer's nonchalant shrug spoke volumes, a testament to his own understanding of Kid's character. "He'll be okay. He's always been tougher than people gave him credit for," he replied, his voice carrying an undercurrent of respect for their fiery-tempered friend.
Cedric's laughter, light as a breeze, danced in the air. "I doubt anyone would question his toughness. It's his brains that are lacking," he teased, his words a gentle ribbing that was tinged with affection.
A sigh escaped Killer's lips, laden with an air of fond exasperation. "There's nothing wrong with his brains either. He's just impulsive..." he explained, his voice carrying a note of patience that came from years of camaraderie and shared adventures.
Cedric's voice held an edge of sternness, a warning wrapped in the cloak of frankness. "And it's that impulsiveness that will get you all killed one day," he asserted, his tone carrying the weight of experience and caution.
Killer's arms crossed over his chest, his demeanor reflecting a mix of irritation and concern. "Is that what it was about?" he questioned, his words veiled with reproach.
His gaze held a certain weight as it met Cedric's, a silent accusation that resonated with their shared bond. "You didn't need to crush him like that in front of so many people, you know?" Killer's voice held a measure of vulnerability, a hint of a plea for understanding.
Cedric's response was both casual and contemplative, his words delivered with a hint of resignation. He lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a deep swig before setting it aside. "You're only saying that because you haven't seen what I've seen," he noted, his gaze turning momentarily distant as memories flickered through his mind. The discarded bottle found its place among others, a testament to a moment of quiet indulgence.
The emptiness of the bottle seemed to echo the weight of Cedric's words, the notion that strength was a finite resource in a world brimming with challenges. "There are countless powerful people out there, even more powerful than I am," Cedric continued, his voice carrying a note of both caution and acceptance. He paused, allowing the gravity of his statement to settle.
Killer's mask concealed the thoughts that danced behind his eyes, but his silence spoke volumes. He listened, his frown deepening as Cedric's words wove a tapestry of wisdom and perspective.
Cedric's gaze returned to Killer's, his expression bearing the marks of someone who had walked a path of trials and lessons. "I've no doubt that you and Kid are strong, but you're not strong enough to go about flaunting your strength and picking fights with everyone yet," Cedric offered, his tone gentle despite the weight of his message.
The air between them seemed to hold a shared understanding, a bond that transcended words. Cedric's advice was delivered with a sense of empathy, a reminder that strength was not solely defined by one's might but also by their wisdom. "You need to bide your time, grow stronger while you can—earn the right to be arrogant."
Shaking his head, Cedric concluded, "The world is vast, and if you keep going like this, you'll eventually fuck with the wrong guy, and it won't end well for you, kid, and the others..."
The weight of Cedric's words lingered in the air between them, a moment of shared understanding and unspoken truths. Killer's silence spoke volumes, his gaze fixed on Cedric with a mix of contemplation and acknowledgment.
He understood the wisdom in Cedric's counsel, but he also knew the complexities of dealing with a captain as tempestuous as Kid, whose impulsiveness often led them into both grand victories and perilous situations.
Cedric's nonchalant shrug served as a transition, a signal that the weighty topic had been addressed and could now be set aside. "But that's enough of that..." Cedric's voice carried a note of finality, a gentle closure to a serious discussion.
His next words shifted the conversation's focus, a natural segue into a lighter subject. "What have you been up to since I left Four Clover?" he inquired, his tone casual and genuinely curious.
Killer found solace in the shift, a respite from the weighty considerations of the previous conversation. He uncrossed his arms and leaned against a nearby railing, considering Cedric's question. Memories of the intervening time flickered behind his mask, a montage of experiences and moments that had shaped his path. Finally, he began to speak.
"We did our fair share of sailing, exploring, and a shit ton of fighting..."
...
Standing at the edge of the cliff, Montblanc Cricket's weathered face was a mask of contemplation, his gaze fixed on the brewing storm that loomed ominously in the distance. Dark clouds amassed, heavy with the weight of impending rain, while the distant rumble of thunder echoed through the air like a prelude to nature's fury. The raw energy of the storm seemed to match the turmoil within Cricket's own thoughts.
As the first crack of lightning illuminated the darkened sky, it cast an eerie glow on the figure of a gigantic winged man silhouetted against the heavens. The form appeared and disappeared in the flashes of light, a surreal apparition that would have seemed fantastical to any outsider. But Cricket was no stranger to this phenomenon, having witnessed it countless times before.
For years, Montblanc Cricket had tirelessly pursued a quest that many dismissed as a fool's errand—the search for the fabled city of gold, an elusive treasure spoken of by his ancestor, the infamous Nolan the Liar. Yet, despite the countless hours he had spent poring over maps, deciphering cryptic clues, and charting uncharted waters, Cricket had stubbornly refused to accept one plausible explanation.
The concept that a massive chunk of land from an island could be propelled into the sky by the force of a knock-up stream, only to remain suspended among the clouds, seemed preposterous to him. It contradicted the logic of the world he knew and bordered on the realms of fantasy. Cricket's skepticism had been unwavering, his conviction that such a phenomenon was too far-fetched to be true.
But now-- having met Cedric-- as he watched the storm's fiery display and the colossal figures that seemed to dance among the lightning bolts, certainty filled his mind. The signs, the ships falling from the sky, the whispers on the winds—all pointed to a truth that he had stubbornly refused to acknowledge.
Cricket's fingers tightened around the hilt of his cane, the wood worn smooth by years of use. He closed his eyes briefly, a sigh escaping his lips as he contemplated the journey he was about to undertake. His heart carried the weight of generations before him, the weight of a legacy that he had both revered and questioned.
The storm raged on, its intensity building with each passing moment. Thunder roared like the laughter of ancient gods, and the lightning illuminated the vast expanse before Cricket.
Soon, all his hard work will pay off. He will know for certain.
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