"Captain, when are we setting sail? I can't wait to meet them already."
On the island of Weatheria, Mol had already slung his backpack over his shoulders and spoke with eager anticipation. After five years of growth, Mol had become a young man.
There was no trace left of the simple, goofy look he'd had five years ago. The Mol standing here now gave off the impression of a sharp, energetic young man, brimming with vitality.
"Don't worry. At our speed, we'll get there in no time. We just need to wait until all the crew members have arrived before we head out."
"Alright then." Hearing Shirakawa's words, Mol felt a little deflated.
Right now, his mood was all about showing off in front of the other members—letting them see how much he'd changed over these past five years. Honestly, even Mol himself could feel the earth-shattering transformation he'd undergone.
Five years ago, he'd never imagined his strength would ever reach such heights. Although he'd never fought against outsiders, he sparred with Shirakawa on a regular basis.
So his strength was assessed by Shirakawa himself. Shirakawa's evaluation was that, at his current level, he could easily take down pirates with bounties under three hundred million.
The moment he heard that, he'd been thrilled for a long time. Didn't that mean he had the strength of a pirate with a three-hundred-million bounty—or even higher? He hadn't been given a bounty by the Marines yet, but he figured that day wasn't far off.
After five years, the world had probably completely forgotten about the Silver Pirate Crew. After all, they'd only been a flash in the pan back then. They'd caused a stir, but their time in the spotlight had been far too brief.
In that span, plenty of powerful rookie pirates had emerged, gradually replacing the Silver Pirate Crew in the hearts of ordinary citizens.
After staying on Weatheria for two more days, Shirakawa set out with Mol.
"Teachers, I'm leaving now. I'll miss you all."
Standing at the edge of the island, Mol waved to Aleda and the others who'd come to see them off. Over these five years, Mol had been learning knowledge from these meteorologists, so he'd come to see them all as his teachers.
"You little brat, get going already. We're tired of having you around."
A short-tempered man spoke up, though everyone could hear the reluctance in his voice.
"Haha, Teacher Moray, your words don't match your heart."
In these five years, Shirakawa had rarely interacted with this group—he didn't even know who Moray was.
"Will you two come back?" Harada stepped forward and asked.
"We will. My home is here—how could I not come back?"
Shirakawa was the one who answered. This place truly was quite wonderful. He might just feel like coming back one day to sleep for a night.
"You're always welcome here."
Harada's words spoke for all of their hearts.
Hearing this, tears welled up in the corners of Mol's eyes, but he was a man now—he couldn't go crying at the drop of a hat.
The people across from him, though, were a different story. They were all getting on in years, more prone to sentiment, so their tears came pouring down like rain.
"We're going."
After Shirakawa said this, he grabbed Mol directly and leaped off the edge of the island, giving them no chance for another goodbye.
Perhaps such a swift, decisive approach was the quickest way to ease their grief.
"Ah!" But Shirakawa's movement was just too sudden—even Mol was startled. He'd experienced this sensation many times now, but he still hadn't gotten used to it.
That instant of free-fall gave Mol no sense of security whatsoever.
"Those two are finally gone."
The moment Shirakawa and Mol left, the meteorologists seemed to change faces entirely. Their previous grieving expressions vanished in an instant.
"To celebrate their departure, how about we throw a party?"
Harada suddenly suggested.
"Sounds good."
The proposal was met with unanimous agreement. They had no issue with Mol, but their grievances with Shirakawa ran deep.
Although Shirakawa wasn't on the island often, every time he returned, they could all feel a chilling aura emanating from him—a bloody, savage presence that could only come from having killed a great many people.
Every time he came back, he scared these meteorologists half to death, because they feared Shirakawa might have gone blood-crazed and would kill them too.
"Ah, sorry, I forgot something here."
Just then, a familiar voice rang out beside them. Their laughter came to an abrupt halt, as if something had been jammed down their throats.
"Already turned grief into joy—have they gone mad? Whatever, let them calm down on their own."
Shirakawa had naturally heard their laughter, but he paid them no mind. He went back to his room, retrieved his belongings, and left once more.
"God, that scared me to death."
Shirakawa had nearly frightened them into the grave. Who could have imagined he'd suddenly come back?
"Is he gone?" one meteorologist asked timidly.
"He should be, right?" another answered uncertainly.
"Maybe... we should hold the party tomorrow."
"That's probably best. Yes, best."
And so the meteorologists returned to their homes with heavy hearts, feeling certain they'd be having sweet dreams tonight.
With Shirakawa carrying him along, Mol and Shirakawa quickly reached Water 7—perhaps because Weatheria had drifted to a spot relatively close to the city.
"Looks like they've all arrived."
The moment they reached Water 7, Shirakawa spread his Observation Haki across the entire island and immediately sensed those several familiar presences.
And the release of Shirakawa's Observation Haki naturally didn't escape the perception of the others.
Everyone who sensed Shirakawa's arrival smiled faintly to themselves.
"Finally here, huh, Captain? This time, you're the one who's late."
Jora, who had been shopping, instantly set down what she was holding.
All the crew members, just like Jora, stopped whatever they were doing. Through their Observation Haki, they felt Shirakawa moving in a certain direction—then suddenly stopping.
"Looks like that's the meeting spot."
Although Shirakawa had told them to gather at Water 7, none of them knew exactly where to meet. Some of the crew members had already run into each other, but the rendezvous point still had to be designated by the captain, right?
"Captain, I hope these five years haven't disappointed me."
Jora murmured under his breath. By now, he was a Great Swordsman, and he was itching to test himself against Shirakawa.
He wanted to show the captain what he was capable of now, and then tell him: "I'll never run away again."
Their last retreat was a wound in every crew member's heart, so they'd all sworn to themselves—something like that would never happen again.
/-\
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