Chapter 97: The Wind of Fate
Dragon's hands were steady on the cup, but his eyes were bright, burning with something that had been dormant for too long. He opened his mouth, the words come with me already forming, but Kyle shook his head before they could be spoken.
"No," Kyle said, pouring himself another drink. "I'm not the one you need. I've done my part."
Dragon's jaw tightened. "You could help more."
"Maybe. But I've spent my life following one captain. I'm not looking for another." Kyle set the bottle down. "You don't need me. You need people who believe in what you're building, not someone who's already built his own road."
Dragon was silent. He had expected this answer, but hearing it still stung.
Kyle traced a pattern on the table with his finger. "There's a kingdom in the South Blue. A small church, nothing grand. You'll find a man there—large, kind, the kind of fool who would give away his last meal. And a girl, quick‑tongued, quick‑minded. Tell them you're building a world where no one has to go hungry. They'll listen."
Dragon studied him. "You've planned this."
Kyle shrugged. "I've seen things. Doesn't mean I planned them."
Dragon stood. He had learned not to ask for more. He bowed his head once, a gesture of respect, then turned toward the door.
"Dragon," Kyle called.
Dragon paused.
Kyle raised his hand in a lazy salute, three fingers extended. "Let the wind take you where it will."
Dragon's lips curved. He returned the gesture and walked out into the night.
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The weeks that followed were quiet. Kyle drifted from island to island, a wanderer with no destination. In the West Blue, he spent three days eating his way through a food festival, then was chased out of a casino for winning too many hands. In the North Blue, he tracked a rumor of a healing crystal to an icy cave, only to find it was just a pretty piece of ice—good for cooling drinks, nothing more.
He kept moving. The sea was wide, and he was in no hurry.
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The call came on a calm morning in the Calm Belt.
Kyle was sprawled on the deck of a small fishing boat, a stalk of grass in his mouth, half‑asleep in the sun. The Den Den Mushi at his waist began to ring.
He picked it up. "Hello?"
"Kuhahaha! Kyle! You're still alive!"
The Den Den Mushi's face stretched into Roger's familiar grin. Kyle sat up, the grass falling from his lips.
"Roger. You sound like you're in good spirits."
"I'm always in good spirits! Rayleigh and I are at Sabaody. Drinks are flowing. Get here before he drinks it all!"
Kyle smiled. "I'll be there."
He hung up, stood, and stretched. The sea beneath his feet trembled. Then it erupted, a shockwave launching the small boat forward, cutting a white line across the water. Behind him, the Calm Belt faded into the distance.
He had somewhere to be.
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End of Chapter 97