Greyport Island's shipyard never slept.
Hammers rang through the day.
Sparks lit up the night.
And ships were born—or broken—depending on who controlled the dock that week.
Kevin stood at the edge of the shipyard gates.
Watching.
Silent.
"…This is the real bottleneck."
Not the sea.
Not pirates.
Ships.
Without one, everything stopped at the island level.
He stepped inside.
The smell of tar, wood, and iron filled the air.
Workers moved between half-built hulls like ants around bones.
Kevin scanned carefully.
Not for beauty.
Not for size.
For function.
"…That one."
His eyes stopped on a mid-sized vessel.
Not large.
Not flashy.
But solid.
Reinforced hull.
Balanced sails.
Built for speed, not war.
Perfect for a solo traveler.
A foreman noticed him.
"You interested in buying?"
Kevin nodded.
"…That ship."
The foreman laughed slightly.
"That one? You know how much it costs?"
Kevin reached into his bag.
Dropped a pouch of berries on the table.
Clink.
The foreman opened it.
Paused.
"…Not enough."
Kevin didn't react.
"…Then name the price."
Before the foreman could answer—
A voice cut in from behind.
"You're wasting your time, kid."
Kevin turned slightly.
A tall man stood there.
Scarred arms.
Pirate coat.
Confident stance.
"…That ship's already reserved."
The foreman stiffened.
"…Captain Rudo…"
Kevin studied him calmly.
"…You're the buyer?"
Rudo smirked.
"…Not just buyer."
"…Owner."
The air shifted slightly.
Nearby workers stopped what they were doing.
They knew this name.
Greyport pirate crew.
Mid-tier control force of this dock area.
Not the strongest—
But loud enough to matter.
Kevin exhaled lightly.
"…Then I'll choose another ship."
He turned slightly.
Rudo laughed.
"…Smart choice."
But Kevin didn't leave.
He walked toward the ship instead.
Rudo frowned.
"…Hey. I said that one is taken."
Kevin stopped at the hull.
Looked up slowly.
"…You didn't say I couldn't look."
Silence.
Rudo stepped forward.
"…You've got attitude."
Kevin nodded slightly.
"…And you have a ship you're not using yet."
Rudo paused.
"…What?"
Kevin pointed slightly behind him.
A smaller docked vessel.
Old.
Unused.
Slight damage on the side.
"…That one."
Rudo laughed.
"…That scrap? You serious?"
Kevin nodded.
"…It floats."
That was enough.
Rudo stepped closer now.
The air turned heavier.
"…You're bold for someone alone."
Kevin met his gaze.
"…You're loud for someone with a crew."
Silence.
Workers slowly backed away.
They knew where this was going.
Rudo cracked his knuckles.
"…Let's make this simple."
"…Beat one of my men. You can have the scrap ship."
Kevin nodded immediately.
"…Fine."
No hesitation.
That reaction made Rudo pause.
"…You don't even ask who?"
Kevin replied calmly.
"…It won't matter."
A pirate stepped forward from Rudo's crew.
Large.
Armed.
Confident.
"…Kid, I'll go easy on you."
Kevin drew his sword.
"…Don't."
The fight started instantly.
No warning.
No ceremony.
The pirate rushed forward—
Heavy swing.
Kevin stepped aside.
Minimal movement.
Perfect timing.
Clang!
The attack hit air.
Kevin struck once.
Not strong.
Not flashy.
Clean.
The pirate staggered.
Weapon dropped.
Silence.
He collapsed.
One strike.
The dock went quiet.
Rudo's smile faded slightly.
"…Lucky hit."
Kevin sheathed his sword.
"…No."
"…Bad timing."
Rudo stared at him for a moment.
Then laughed again.
"…Interesting kid."
He waved a hand.
"…Fine. Take the scrap ship."
Kevin nodded.
"…Good."
Later—
Kevin stood on the small ship.
Old hull.
Simple sails.
Functional.
Not impressive.
But enough.
"…This is mine."
He stepped onto the deck.
Felt the wood beneath him.
No crew.
No captain above him.
Only direction.
The shipyard faded behind him as workers released the ropes.
The vessel slowly drifted into open water near the harbor.
Kevin stood at the helm.
Watching the island shrink.
"…First ship."
Not given.
Not inherited.
Taken through choice.
The sea stretched ahead.
Endless again.
But now—
He had movement.
Independence.
Freedom was no longer theoretical.
It was floating under his feet.
Kevin adjusted the sails slightly.
Wind caught them immediately.
The ship turned gently toward open sea lanes.
"…Next stop."
Not destination.
Opportunity.
Far behind him, Greyport became just another dot on the horizon.
A place he passed through.
Not belonged to.