While the Wicked Wench was docked at the port, Jack was seen walking leisurely through the streets of a city that appeared calm and peaceful at first glance.
For once, no one was following him, as the rest of his crew had decided to spend their free time in their own ways.
Jack simply wanted to find a decent place to eat, thinking that a quiet meal would be a good change of pace. As he wandered deeper into the city, his attention was caught by a group of townspeople making a commotion.
They were all pointing toward a certain man standing silently in the middle of the crowd, a man whose eyes looked as though the light inside them had long since faded away.
Curious, Jack approached and listened. The crowd was full of sneers and harsh words.
"Don't believe anything that comes out of this man's mouth. Everything his family says is a lie," one of the adults told their children, as if passing down an old warning.
The man being insulted had an odd shape to his head, but he didn't seem to care about their words.
He didn't argue or defend himself; he simply stood there quietly while the insults kept coming, as though he had grown used to the hatred that was directed at him.
For a brief moment, Jack's and the man's eyes met. They looked at each other without saying a single word, and Jack gave him a small nod before walking away, leaving the figure behind. The man watched his back until he disappeared into the distance.
'I didn't expect to meet him here,' Jack thought to himself as he strolled further down the street. 'I thought he would already be sailing the seas by now.' He kept walking, buying small trinkets and food that were unique to the island.
The city belonged to the Lvneel Kingdom, one of the well-known kingdoms in the North Blue.
It was also the birthplace of the legend of Mont Blanc Noland — the man branded as the "most famous liar in history."
Jack, knowing the truth of that story from his own knowledge of the world's hidden history, couldn't help but think about how people often chose to believe only what they wanted to hear.
"Foolish and ignorant people would rather believe lies that comfort them than truths that challenge them," he muttered softly, remembering how Noland had been executed because no one saw the golden city he had spoken of.
By pure coincidence, the man Jack encountered was a young Mont Blanc Cricket, the descendant of Noland himself.
Jack remembered how, in the story he once knew, Cricket would later meet Luffy and finally learn the truth about his ancestor's words — but never see the golden bell with his own eyes.
For some reason, Jack felt that it was a little unfair for a man so determined to uncover the truth to be denied the sight of it.
'If fate allows it, I'll invite him to my crew when the time comes,' Jack thought with a faint smile.
He didn't approach him further, choosing instead to leave the encounter as it was, trusting that fate would handle the rest.
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Meanwhile, Cricket continued walking alone through the crowded streets, still lost in thought about the words and looks he endured daily.
As he turned the corner, he noticed a tall blind man walking slowly, using a wooden sword as a cane to guide his way.
The man wore a purple kimono, and despite his condition, there was an air of calm strength surrounding him. Feeling a hint of sympathy, Cricket approached him.
"Do you need any help, sir?" Cricket asked politely.
"Ah, yes, yes," the blind man replied with a smile. "Do you happen to know if there's a place for gambling around here? I've been meaning to play a few rounds of dice."
Cricket blinked, caught off guard by the question. He stared at the man's completely white eyes marked with faint scars shaped like an X, and he couldn't help but be puzzled. "You want to gamble? Don't take this the wrong way, but even people with perfect eyesight lose money easily in those places. You, without sight, would be at a huge disadvantage."
"Hahahaha," the blind man laughed heartily. "You're a straightforward young man, aren't you? Would you like to join me, then? Since you know this kingdom so well, you can be my guide."
Cricket hesitated. "Aren't you too trusting? What if I'm a criminal or a swindler just waiting for a chance to sell you off or rob you?"
The blind man chuckled again, seemingly amused by the warning. "Who would want to buy a blind slave? Besides, I can tell you're not that kind of person.
Out of all the people who have passed me by today, you're the only one who stopped. That alone says enough about your character."
For a moment, Cricket stood silently. It was rare for anyone to say something kind to him.
Most of the townspeople only knew him as a Mont Blanc, a name cursed with the reputation of deceit and shame.
Finally, he sighed and nodded. "Alright then," he said softly. "I'll show you around."
As the two began to walk, the people of Lvneel cast them strange and judgmental looks.
Many whispered among themselves, assuming that Cricket was leading the blind man into another one of his supposed "lies."
Issho, being highly attuned through his Observation Haki, could feel every hateful thought directed not at him but at the young man walking beside him.
The longer they walked, the more Issho sensed it — the growing hostility in the air. It was heavy and persistent, filled with resentment that made him wonder what could have caused such hatred. Finally, his curiosity overcame him.
"Why do the people here look at you with such disdain?" Issho asked. "It's clear you've done nothing wrong."
Cricket paused for a moment before answering. "My full name is Mont Blanc Cricket," he said quietly. "I'm a descendant of the so-called liar who once lived here centuries ago. The people of this kingdom never forgot, and they made sure I never would either."
Issho nodded slowly, understanding more than he let on. "You're telling the truth," he said after a pause. "I may be blind, but I can feel honesty. And yours is genuine."
Cricket smiled faintly, though there was a hint of sadness in it. "It doesn't matter what the truth is. Once people decide what they want to believe, there's no changing their minds. The stain of a name doesn't wash off easily, even if the truth stands right in front of them."
Issho fell silent, his expression thoughtful. The two continued walking for a while without saying anything more until Issho suddenly spoke again.
"Come with me," he said calmly.
Cricket looked at him, confused. "Where are we going?"
Issho didn't answer, merely continuing to walk forward. Cricket hesitated for a moment before deciding to follow him. In his mind, he figured there was nothing to lose.
If the man turned out to be dangerous, at least the burden of his cursed name would end with him. But if not, perhaps it would lead to something better — something worth the risk.