But the current him—the one who had just transmigrated—did not want to die immediately. It was true that being sold as a slave would almost certainly lead to the worst possible fate, yet he clung stubbornly to a tiny glimmer of hope. Perhaps, against all odds, some miracle might save him, or maybe a noble with some sense of decency would take him in as a soldier or guard. How he would manage to free himself later was a problem for another day; he would deal with that when the time came. Even if he wasn't rescued, he had a firm conviction: he would never allow himself to suffer the way the Celestial Dragons treated their slaves, nor would he tolerate the humiliation of being treated like property. He would rather die than bow to any noblewoman—or to anyone else—no matter how powerful they might be.
Now that Gojo had fully made up his mind, he spoke before the vice-captain could escalate his threats or resort to cruelty. "Give me food. I will eat it," he said, his voice steady despite the tension and the pounding of his heart.
Juno froze for a few seconds, completely taken aback. He had expected far more resistance—defiance, stubborn silence, maybe even the need to intimidate or torture the boy into submission. He had never imagined the boy would yield so quickly or so easily. For a moment, he just stared, trying to process the unexpected compliance, before he could regain his composure.
Juno placed a bowl in front of him, filled with what appeared to be a thick, steaming porridge. On a separate plate rested a large, succulent piece of meat. Watching him carefully, and wary that the boy might attempt some trick, Juno said, "Go ahead. Eat in front of me. Don't even think about hiding anything."
Gojo didn't waste a single word arguing or replying. Hunger gnawed at him relentlessly, his stomach growling so loudly it almost felt like it would betray him. Without concern for manners or etiquette, he immediately began eating. Even the simple act of chewing and swallowing was difficult after nearly two days without food, but the sudden surge of adrenaline—the instinct to survive—propelled him forward. He forced each bite down, faster and faster, driven by sheer determination to live.
Ten to fifteen minutes passed, and finally, the bowl and plate were empty. Gojo leaned back slightly, wiping his mouth, and glanced at the vice-captain, Juno, who was still standing by the door. Juno's expression was a mixture of surprise and confusion at the boy's sudden compliance, yet he quickly realized this behaviour worked in his favour. The faster the boy ate and recovered, the higher his value in the slave market—and the richer the Minnow Pirates would become.
Without a word, Juno turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. Darkness settled once more, with only the faint glow of the lamp illuminating the small space. Gojo exhaled, feeling the warmth of the food settle in his stomach, and silently allowed himself a moment to regain his strength, knowing that this was only the beginning of the challenges he would face.
For now, there was very little that Gojo could do. After all, he was locked inside a dark and cramped room that smelled faintly of damp wood and salt. Even though his hands and legs were not tied by ropes, the air in the room itself felt heavy and suffocating, as if pressing down on him from all directions. It wasn't exactly that he was helpless—but it was true that his current situation left him with very few choices. Still, it wasn't as if Gojo had no chance of escaping; in fact, he was very sure that if he wanted to, he could definitely find a way out of here.
From the memories of this body, Gojo knew that the young body he was currently inhabiting possessed frightening physical strength—strength powerful enough to tear through wood and stone, even to shatter a tree trunk thick enough that a normal adult man could barely wrap his arms around it. That kind of raw, brute power was not something ordinary humans could imagine. If he could break such a thick tree with his bare hands, then breaking down this wooden door should not be a problem at all. It was more than possible for him to smash the door open and escape from this place.
However, that was only the ideal plan in theory. The real problem lay elsewhere. It was still daytime outside, and during this time, almost all the pirates aboard the ship would be awake and active—moving around, talking, laughing, drinking, and keeping an eye on their surroundings. Even if Gojo did break the door and make a run for it, he would most likely be seen by the pirates patrolling the deck. And once caught, they wouldn't make the same mistake twice. They would definitely restrain him more tightly—perhaps chaining his hands or binding him with strong ropes, something far more troublesome than this current situation. That outcome would only make things worse for him.
Therefore, Gojo decided that the best course of action would be to wait. He had to bide his time and choose the most opportune moment to strike. That moment would likely come around midnight, or sometime after, when most of the pirates would finally be asleep or too drunk to stand properly. By then, the ship would fall into a rare state of quietness. The ones left awake would likely be the lower-ranked guards—men of weaker strength and slower reactions. If that were the case, Gojo was confident that he could overpower them with his strength alone, knock them out before they could raise an alarm, and jump off the ship into the open sea to escape.
With that thought in mind, Gojo slowly closed his eyes and allowed his body to relax. The darkness of the room seemed to wrap around him like a heavy blanket, and before long, he drifted off into a light, uneasy sleep.
Hours passed quietly, and the day eventually gave way to night. The ship creaked softly as waves struck its hull, and faint voices of pirates talking and laughing could be heard from far beyond the locked door. When the time of night came, one of the Minnow Pirates once again came to deliver food. He pushed open the door, the dim lanternlight spilling into the room, and placed a wooden plate in front of Gojo. Without saying a word, Gojo immediately began eating the food that had been placed before him.
The pirate, noticing this, raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. After watching for a brief moment to confirm that Gojo was indeed eating, he turned around and left the room, locking the door firmly behind him as always. The sound of the latch clicking echoed faintly through the quiet corridor.
A few minutes later, that same pirate walked over to where Juno, the vice-captain of the Minnow Pirates, was sitting. Juno was leaning against a barrel, sharpening his sword under the dim glow of an oil lamp. The pirate approached him and said, "Boss, that brat—he's eating the food without any complaints this time."
Juno paused for a moment, glancing up with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Tsk…" he clicked his tongue and chuckled. "So his stubbornness finally broke, huh? And here I thought he had some real resolve. Didn't he say he'd rather die than eat the food we give him? Hah!" Juno leaned back, letting out a loud laugh. "Look at him now—just two days without food, and he's already devouring it like a starving dog! Ha ha ha!"
The pirate who had come to report couldn't help but laugh along with him, sharing in his amusement. The two of them continued to laugh for a while, their coarse voices echoing across the deck, unaware that the boy they were mocking was far from defeated—and that his moment to act would come soon enough.
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