Back on the ground, Gustave presented Chu Zihang with the satellite phone he had acquired from Cassel College.
"Here, you should keep this," Gustave said, holding it out. "If anyone from the college wants to hire a dragon slayer, this is how they'll make contact."
Chu Zihang looked at the device but didn't take it. "Why give it to me?"
Gustave let out a weary sigh. "Because you're the only one I can give it to. No matter how long you spend in the One Piece world, it's barely a minute here. But for me, time is synchronized. Days there are days here. Besides," he added, gesturing vaguely at the air, "you're the anchor for this world. Without you, the Gate of All Worlds won't even open to this reality."
"I see," Chu Zihang said, his expression unchanging. "But what if it's bugged? A tracker?"
"Don't worry, I checked it," Gustave replied, tapping a finger to his temple. He had flooded the device with a low-level electrical current, scanning every millimeter for any hidden circuits. His Rumble-Rumble Fruit was better than any scanner. "There isn't an electronic device in this world that can hide from my 'sharp eyes'. If they managed to install a non-electronic Soviet-era listening device in it... well, then I'd be impressed. But what could they do, really?"
Gustave shrugged. "Even if they traced the phone back to you, so what? You're a pure-blooded descendant, and your father was apparently some kind of legend in their Executive Department. They'd probably just offer you a scholarship."
Having settled the matter, Gustave glanced down at the sprawling, hidden campus below. "Cassel College is right there. Want to go take a look before we head back?"
"No," Chu Zihang said firmly. "I'm here as an illegal stowaway with you. When I enter Cassel College, I will do so officially. I'll buy a plane ticket and walk through the front door." His vigilance was absolute; he understood the need to create a clean, unsuspicious trail.
"Fair enough," Gustave conceded. "Alright then, prepare for takeoff. Let's go home!"
Once again, Gustave enveloped Chu Zihang in a protective electromagnetic field. With a near-silent whoosh, they shot into the sky, leaving the secret valley behind. After seeing Chu Zihang safely back to his house, Gustave returned to the world of One Piece. He hadn't made any money yet, so he told Chu Zihang to contact him the moment a job came up.
This time, Chu Zihang did not follow him through the Gate. He had a new purpose. The next morning, after a brief explanation to his mother, he booked a flight to Chicago. He could have chosen to grow stronger in the world of pirates and marines, but a deeper, more personal quest pulled him toward Cassel College—the place that held the answers he had sought for so long.
A day later, he landed in Chicago. Since Gustave had flown them directly to the campus, Chu Zihang didn't know its precise coordinates, but he had memorized the surrounding topography and the unique features of the valley during their brief meeting with Principal Anjou. All he needed was a detailed map and perhaps a little local knowledge.
Destiny, it seemed, was on his side. On his third day in the city, while poring over maps in a small café, he overheard a group of backpackers talking. One of them described a recent hiking trip to a remote valley whose terrain sounded remarkably similar to Cassel's. The trail, he mentioned, started near the old Chicago train station.
Armed with this new lead, Chu Zihang packed his hiking gear and headed for the station, posing as just another traveler. For hours, he wandered the bustling terminals, his stoic face scanning every crowd, but the legendary fellow traveler was nowhere to be found. A sliver of disappointment crept in. Maybe I should just go back and ask Gustave for the exact location, he thought, tempted by the shortcut.
Just then, a hand clapped down on his shoulder.
"Please, help me out... one dollar, just one dollar..." a raspy voice pleaded from behind him.
Chu Zihang felt a familiar sense of annoyance. It was the standard line used by beggars all over the United States. He turned to find a tall, burly man looming over him. Though his frame suggested youth, his face was completely obscured by a curtain of long, matted hair and a wild, unkempt beard. The man smelled like he hadn't seen a shower in weeks.
"Chinese or Japanese?" the man asked, peering through his greasy bangs at Chu Zihang's Asian features.
"Chinese," Chu Zihang replied coldly, peeling the man's grimy hand off his shoulder with two fingers.
"Oh, thank goodness! A compatriot!" the man exclaimed in flawless, authentic Mandarin. "Buddy, you gotta help me. I haven't eaten in two days. Please, just lend me some cash!"
Chu Zihang was taken aback. He hadn't expected a street beggar in Chicago to speak such perfect Mandarin. The competition for begging must be fierce these days.
"Hey, I'm not a beggar!" the man said, noticing the look in Chu Zihang's eyes. "I'm a college student, I swear! I just need to borrow some money. Look, here's my proof!"
He rummaged in a tattered backpack and triumphantly produced a worn, heavy textbook. The title was a strange mix of English and Latin. Before the man could even boast about it, Chu Zihang spoke first.
"Cassel College?"
He recognized the font and lettering from his online research. It was unmistakable.
"Whoa, you know Cassel College?" The man's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you a freshman? I'm your senior! Finger von Frings, at your service!" He assumed Chu Zihang was one of the curious new students who sometimes showed up early to get a feel for the campus before the term started.
"No," Chu Zihang stated flatly. "I'm not a freshman at Cassel College."
"Not a freshman?" Finger was baffled. How could an outsider know about Cassel? Even among the fraternities at the affiliated University of Chicago, their existence was a closely guarded secret.
"Tell me where Cassel College is," Chu Zihang said, ignoring Finger's confusion and cutting straight to the point. "I will pay you. Then you won't have to disguise your begging as borrowing."
"What are you talking about? I don't know anything!" Finger shouted, his pride seemingly wounded. He puffed out his chest, trying to look indignant. Onlookers began to stare. The sudden attention made Finger shrink back immediately. He leaned in close to Chu Zihang and furtively flashed two fingers.
"Twenty dollars?" Chu Zihang asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
Finger scoffed, his dignity returning in an instant. "We're talking about the location of my beloved, sacred alma mater!" His tone implied a great insult, but his eyes screamed something else entirely: That's not nearly enough, you cheapskate!
"Two thousand dollars."
"Deal!"
For the low price of two thousand dollars, Finger von Frings sold out his beloved alma mater without a second thought.
After Chu Zihang calmly counted out twenty crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and handed them over, Finger eagerly spilled the directions. As Chu Zihang turned to leave, Finger, still admiring his newfound cash, called out casually, "Hey, buddy, how are you planning on getting there?"
Chu Zihang didn't answer, simply patting the professional hiking equipment strapped to his back.
Finger's jaw dropped. "Holy crap! You're not actually going to try and find it on foot with that stuff, are you?" He lunged forward and grabbed Chu Zihang's arm, his previous grime forgotten in his shock. "Wait! Just wait here. I need to make a phone call."
He scurried over to a quieter corner, pulled a surprisingly modern smartphone from his bag, and began speaking into it in a hushed, deferential tone, nodding and bowing as if the person on the other end could see him.
When the call ended, Finger returned, looking far more serious. "Stay put," he commanded, before dashing off to a nearby food stall. He came back a minute later with a large Coke and a bucket of fried chicken, handing a piece to his new, wealthy acquaintance.