Chapter 92: The Guardian's Goodbye
Satoru walked up to the cottage. The loud, rumbling snore from inside was unmistakable.
He's sleeping soundly. No sense of crisis at all, Satoru thought, almost amused. Cyriss likely never imagined the Navy would refocus its attention on a long-retired pirate like him.
"Since you're in such a deep sleep, I'll just have to wake you up myself."
With that, Satoru unleashed a precise, controlled wave of Conqueror's Haki. It wasn't a wide-area blast; it was a focused, piercing lance of supreme will aimed directly at the sleeping figure inside.
Inside, Cyriss's eyes snapped open. He felt the immense pressure—a king's aura, dense and powerful—wash over him. His body reacted before his mind, jolting him fully awake. He immediately sensed the presence outside his door. The fact that they'd announced themselves with Haki, not an attack, suggested this wasn't a standard ambush.
"What a formidable presence," Cyriss muttered, sitting up. He opened the door.
Standing there was a white-haired boy in an Admiral's coat. Cyriss's eyes widened slightly, either at Satoru's youth or because he recognized him from the recent news.
"The newly-minted 'White Dragon' Admiral… paying a personal visit to this old man. To what do I owe the… displeasure?"
"You recognize me," Satoru noted, a little surprised.
"Of course. Your appointment has been the only thing in the papers for days. Hard to miss." Cyriss's initial wariness didn't fade. That Conqueror's Haki had been no joke. "So, why is a Navy Admiral seeking out a retired pirate?"
Satoru didn't answer directly. "What do you think a Navy Admiral would want with a notorious pirate?"
The air chilled. A fierce, intimidating aura erupted from Cyriss's aged frame—the dormant power of a legend reawakening. It was potent, weighty with experience. Satoru felt a spark of excitement. This was the level he enjoyed.
"You're here to take me in," Cyriss stated, his voice flat.
"That's the mission. I have to admit, I'm curious. What did you do to Fleet Admiral Sengoku in your youth to make him hold such a grudge against a 'harmless old man'?"
Cyriss snorted, a grim smirk appearing. "That bastard Sengoku. Still holding a grudge over a little… Millennium Kill I gave him decades ago? Is that why he's sending an Admiral after me now?"
Satoru's eyebrow twitched visibly behind his glasses. Millennium Kill? The infamous, deeply unsavory sneak attack. A move designed for maximum humiliation as much as pain.
"Ah," Satoru said slowly, understanding dawning. "No wonder the Fleet Admiral remembers you so vividly. That would leave a… lasting impression."
"Grandpa Riel! You're awake!"
A cheerful, high-pitched voice cut through the tension. A small boy, no more than six, came running down the path, his face bright with a smile.
The moment he heard the voice, the fierce, combative aura around Cyriss vanished completely, replaced by a warm, almost sunny gentleness. He caught the boy as he leapt forward, lifting him into his arms with practiced ease.
"You little rascal, slow down! You'll trip and lose your front teeth!" Cyriss chided, his voice full of affection.
The transformation was startling. If Satoru hadn't known this man was the legendary 'Tyrant's Fist,' he'd have seen only a doting grandfather.
"Hehe, no I won't! 'Cause Grandpa Riel always catches me!" the boy giggled, clinging to him.
It was clear Cyriss was deeply woven into the fabric of this village's life.
"Boy," Cyriss said, turning his head back to Satoru, his tone quieter now. "Can you give an old man some time to… put his affairs in order?"
Satoru nodded. "I'll wait for you on the far side of the island." He wasn't worried about Cyriss running. The man's character, glimpsed in his bond with the villagers, suggested he wouldn't abandon them to a potential Navy search. And even if he tried, Satoru's Six Eyes were a permanent tether.
"Who's that big brother, Grandpa Riel?" the boy asked, peering at Satoru's retreating back.
"Oh, him?" Cyriss said, his voice carrying a strange note. "He's… my grandson, come to visit."
Satoru, who hadn't gotten far, nearly tripped. He'd heard that. His grandson? He touched his own face. Did they really look alike?
Maybe I'm just so handsome everyone wants to claim me, he mused, a wry, narcissistic thought to soothe his bafflement.
"A grandson?" the boy—Xiaobao—repeated, his voice suddenly small. "So… is he here to take you away?"
Cyriss's smile softened into sadness. "I'm sorry, little one. It seems Grandpa Riel has to leave for a while. I might not get to see you grow up after all."
"NO!" Xiaobao wailed, bursting into tears and burying his face in Cyriss's shirt. "I don't want you to go! I want you to stay!"
The loud crying attracted the attention of other villagers. They began to gather around Cyriss's cottage.
"Uncle Riel? What happened? Did you scold Xiaobao?" a woman asked, reaching for the boy.
Xiaobao slapped her hand away weakly. "It's not that! Grandpa Riel is LEAVING! I don't want him to go!"
A stunned silence fell over the growing crowd. All eyes turned to Cyriss.
He sighed, the weight of decades seeming to settle on his shoulders. "I'm sorry, everyone. It's true. I have… matters to attend to. I must leave."
A wave of palpable sorrow washed through the villagers. Cyriss had been here for nearly twenty years. Many had grown up under his watchful, protective presence. He was Uncle Riel, the village's gentle, if sometimes grumpy, guardian. The news was a blow.
From his vantage point on the other side of the island, Satoru watched the scene unfold through his Six Eyes. The genuine grief, the heartfelt connections.
It's a touching scene, he thought, his expression unreadable. But I wonder… if they knew his true identity, would their tears still flow so freely?
The line between the kind guardian 'Riel' and the feared pirate 'Cyriss' was about to be crossed, and Satoru was the one holding the brush.
(End of Chapter)
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