OPTC Chapter 173 Admit Defeat
"This is the finest ship I've ever seen."
Uncle Goodman's large hands gently caressed the mast of the Hope, his gaze and touch so tender it was as though he were stroking the face of a lover.
Seeing the heavy dark circles under his eyes, Zhang Da Ye felt an even deeper pang of guilt.
Earlier that morning, when Zhang Da Ye visited Goodman's house, the old man was still slumped over his desk scribbling and sketching. Aunt Molly had been urging him to wash up and eat breakfast, while little Baier had already gathered his small hammer and saw, ready to head to the docks to build a miniature boat of his own.
Yes, though only five or six years old, Baier was already tinkering with scrap wood to craft tiny boats. Whether they could actually float was another matter, but his hands-on ability was undeniable.
After hearing Zhang Da Ye explain what had happened, Goodman's face had gone from confusion to shock, and finally to stubborn refusal. No matter what, he had to see this so-called ship that had satisfied Zhang Da Ye so quickly.
If he didn't see it with his own eyes, how could he justify the clumps of hair he had pulled out in frustration all through the night?
Because Aunt Molly worried about Goodman's health, and Baier was curious about the new ship, the whole family ended up coming to visit the Hope.
Of course, Molly and Baier were just there for the spectacle. They gave the occasional compliment—"so pretty here," "that part looks fun"—but Baier was already running around with Tom, exploring every corner.
Only Goodman carefully studied everything from the materials to the ship's structure and design philosophy, commenting endlessly until finally giving his verdict:
"This is the best ship I've ever seen."
For the rest of the group, that single sentence was all that really mattered. It was much like when Camie had tried to describe the ship to Neptune:
What kind of ship?
A great one.
It was the first time Aunt Molly had ever heard Goodman praise someone else's work so openly. She asked, "Even with your skill, you couldn't build something like this?"
"I, of course…" Goodman started instinctively, but as a true craftsman, he couldn't bring himself to boast. Yet admitting defeat in front of his wife and child was equally impossible. In the end, he muttered with frustration, "One day I'll build something even better."
This wasn't just empty pride. Since becoming the best shipwright in Grove 59, Goodman's reputation had stood for the highest standard of all Sabaody. Of course, other islands also had shipwrights on his level, and none would ever admit inferiority.
But today, Goodman's fighting spirit had been reignited. Having witnessed a superior masterpiece, he realized there was still room for growth. He decided he would spend an hour less each day on idle chatter and use that time to hone his craft.
…Though perhaps that could start tomorrow. For today, at least, he deserved to brag about the Hope.
"By the way, who built this ship?" he asked.
"It was Mr. Den of Fishman Island," Zhang Da Ye replied. "He's the younger brother of Tom, the world's greatest shipwright."
"No wonder." Goodman nodded in admiration. "I can't even imagine how powerful Tom himself must be."
At that moment, Tom, who happened to be running past, heard his name. He skidded to a dramatic stop—his head halting while his body lurched forward, stretching his neck until it snapped back into place. Then he stood stiffly at attention and gave a salute, fully committed to his sailor role.
But his exaggerated stop caused poor Baier, who had been chasing after him, to crash right into him. The two tumbled into a heap on the floor.
"Baier, don't run around like that. You might break something," Aunt Molly scolded. She didn't spare a thought for her son's fall; in her mind, children were tough and only grew stronger through scrapes and tumbles.
"I know…" Baier mumbled as he untangled his legs from Tom's. Somehow, they'd tied themselves into a knot.
"Tom, stop running around. Take Baier to the dining hall and grab some sweets," Zhang Da Ye said. Then he turned to Goodman. "Uncle, you should join them too. You stayed up all night and haven't even had breakfast."
"Now that you mention it, I am hungry." Goodman rubbed his stomach. "I'll help myself, then."
…
When Zhang Da Ye stepped into the dining hall, the first thing he saw was Artoria carrying over thirty empty plates into the kitchen sink. Very normal. Nothing out of the ordinary here.
Caught in the act, Artoria hesitated for the briefest moment, her movements stiffening before she turned on the faucet with feigned calm.
Goodman's family seemed to think the plates were from the crew's breakfast earlier, and since they'd already seen how Zhang Da Ye and Tom ate, they weren't particularly surprised.
"Artoria, could you bring out a little more food?" Zhang Da Ye kindly stepped in to ease her embarrassment.
"Alright." She nodded and headed for the storage room, her ahoge springing to life with newfound energy.
Tom and Baier tagged along. With all that delicious food piled up, Tom was itching to rummage through it.
Rui Meng Meng busied herself making tea, while Aunt Molly chatted with Zhang Da Ye about everyday family matters. Shark Chili, meanwhile, peppered Goodman with questions about ship operation and maintenance.
Three minutes later, Goodman stared wide-eyed at the table now overflowing with food. "Isn't this… a little excessive?"
"Don't worry, none of it will go to waste," Zhang Da Ye reassured him. "Eat as much as you like."
After the meal, Goodman's family realized the truth: those thirty plates earlier had only been Artoria's breakfast. The rest of the crew hadn't even eaten yet.
Baier leaned back against his chair, his belly round and full. "Brother Da Ye, are you leaving soon?"
"Yeah, in the next few days," Zhang Da Ye said. "We just need to take care of a few loose ends first." In truth, he planned to wipe out the remaining traffickers whose locations he had tracked down. That would take two or three days at most, then they'd set sail.
"That sounds amazing…" Baier sighed enviously. "I want to go out too, at least to see the wonderful Fishman Island."
Before Goodman could scold his son for dreaming about going to sea, Zhang Da Ye chuckled. "When you grow up to be an excellent shipwright like your father, I'll take you to Fishman Island myself."
"Really?" Baier sprang up from his chair in excitement.
"Really." Zhang Da Ye ruffled his hair. A shame he wasn't the hat-wearing type—otherwise he might've given the boy a hat right then, to inspire him to chase the dream of becoming the king of shipwrights.
Instead, he rummaged in his inventory and handed Baier a saw. "Work hard. Who knows? I might need you to help repair my ship one day."
[Tom's Handsaw: A saw of limitless potential. For example—it can be used to build Spike a doghouse.]
Baier hugged the saw like a precious treasure, determination blazing in his eyes. "I'll become an even greater shipwright than my dad!"
Aunt Molly started to say something, but Goodman stopped her with a shake of his head. Who knew how many years it would take for Baier to become a proper shipwright? And whether he would surpass his father was not for anyone to decide now.
Goodman instead laughed and scolded, "Don't get ahead of yourself. You've got a long way to go!"
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