As the two continued their voyage across the vast open sea, maintaining their daily routine of sparring and training together, Miguel realized they had been sailing for about a month now. Coincidentally, it had also been a full month since either of them had last seen an island. The endless expanse of blue in every direction was starting to wear on them, leaving them both utterly bored and frustrated. With nothing to guide them but the sun and sea—and with both of them being completely clueless when it came to navigation—they had no choice but to keep moving forward in the same direction, hoping they would eventually stumble upon land.
"Huh… is that an island?" Borsalino muttered one day while on lookout duty, his voice cutting through the monotony. His eyes squinted toward the horizon where a faint shimmer of white broke through the sea's endless blue. Miguel immediately turned to look and spotted the same glimmer—a white, shining island far in the distance.
Miguel didn't waste a moment. Grabbing the oars that were responsible for propelling their small ship, he began rowing faster—much faster—until the boat was practically skimming across the surface of the water like it was powered by a motor. Their speed was incredible, and in just ten minutes, the island was no longer a distant vision but a tangible destination beneath their feet.
Once they reached the shore, the two of them quickly disembarked. Eagerness filled their hearts as the boredom of their long sea voyage was temporarily replaced by excitement. Unlike the quiet and sparsely populated island where Borsalino had lived, this new island was bustling with life. Miguel recognized immediately that this was one of the major ports in the region. People hurried along the streets, going about their daily lives, selling goods, talking with one another—completely unaware of the strangers now among them.
To avoid any unnecessary attention, Miguel took a few precautions. He removed the sail, the pirate flag, and even the distinct golden lion figurehead from their ship. With their vessel now appearing more like a generic merchant ship, they hoped to blend in without raising suspicion.
"Hello," Miguel said as he and Borsalino approached one of the locals near the port. "Can we ask where we are?"
The old man he addressed gave a warm smile, his voice filled with pride. "Oh, don't you know, young man? You've arrived in the great country of Flevance, the famed home of Amber Lead! It's a highly regarded nation here in the North Blue."
Hearing that made Miguel pause. Flevance? His eyes narrowed slightly in thought. This was the birthplace of Trafalgar D. Water Law—the country that was once wealthy and renowned because of Amber Lead, but also one that carried a tragic legacy.
The poor citizens… Miguel thought silently, They don't even realize that their wealth is built on something slowly killing them from the inside. The very substance that brought them prosperity would one day become their doom.
Thanking the old man, Miguel and Borsalino moved on, heading deeper into the town to explore. The more Miguel saw—the wealth, the elegance of the buildings, the content citizens—the more it reminded him of God Valley, a place also once rich in natural resources and influence. But just like God Valley, Flevance held a darkness hidden beneath its beauty—a darkness that, through the cruelty and corruption of the powerful, would eventually consume it. Both islands, in Miguel's mind, were tied together by a fate sealed by human greed and the indifference of the World Government.
As they wandered the town, Miguel and Borsalino bought fresh food—fruits, breads, meats—to satisfy their growing hunger after surviving on sea beasts for weeks. They also stocked up on supplies, preparing for their next voyage. While walking past a busy market street, they came across an unexpected scene: a young man, who seemed to be about Miguel's age, was crying out for help, desperately clutching a frail girl in his arms. She looked no older than 12 or 13, and Miguel could tell right away from her shallow breathing and limp limbs that she was very sick.
The young man's cries were heartbreaking.
"PLEASE! SOMEONE! HELP US!" he shouted to the crowd around him, kneeling on the ground with tears streaming down his face. The girl in his arms remained unresponsive. His voice cracked with desperation.
Miguel stopped and looked around. Dozens of people had turned their heads at the noise. Some even paused for a moment, clearly sympathetic—but then looked away, ignoring him completely, too afraid to get involved. No one dared to step forward.
This piqued Miguel's curiosity. He slowly approached the young man and the girl, while Borsalino remained on a bench across the street, watching silently.
"Is that your friend?" the shopkeeper near Borsalino asked, noticing Miguel's approach.
"Yes, that's him," Borsalino replied, glancing up. "Why?"
"You should tell him to stay away from those two," the shopkeeper said in a low voice. "If you both want to avoid trouble with the king, leave them alone."
Borsalino raised an eyebrow, confused. "Why? What did they do?"
The shopkeeper sighed and leaned in a bit closer. "That girl… she's his sister. She's been sick since birth. They say it's a hereditary illness, and she's been hospitalized most of her life. Her brother has spent years studying to become a doctor just to save her. But last month, during the prince's annual hospital visit, he started showing symptoms similar to hers. The King panicked. He blamed the girl and claimed she infected the prince. Even though the doctors insisted the illness wasn't contagious, the King didn't care. He ordered all treatment to be stopped immediately and made a decree: anyone who helps the siblings will be punished severely."
Borsalino nodded slowly, understanding now why everyone was keeping their distance. Fear. Plain and simple.
Meanwhile, Miguel knelt before the desperate young man, noting his sunken cheeks and thin frame—he looked like he hadn't eaten in days.
The boy looked up at Miguel, eyes filled with pleading.
"Please… help us. I—I can offer my medical skills in return. I'm a doctor. A good one. I'll work for you. Just… just please save my sister."
Miguel stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"Are you both hungry?" he asked calmly.
The boy nodded quickly, without hesitation.
Miguel looked over to Borsalino, who had just finished his conversation. Without a word, Miguel reached into his bag and handed the siblings a large portion of food—fresh fruits and savory meats they had just purchased in town.
The boy didn't touch any of it for himself. Instead, he gently fed his sister first, making sure she was the one to eat before he did. Watching this, Miguel couldn't help but feel a mixture of admiration and sadness.
All around them, the townspeople were beginning to stare. Whispers floated through the air. Miguel knew exactly what was happening—he had just broken a royal decree. By helping the siblings, he had defied the King's orders. But he didn't care. He wasn't a saint by any means; his hands had been stained with blood more than once since arriving in this world. But even so, he still had his own code—his own sense of morality that he refused to abandon.
Unbeknownst to Miguel and Borsalino, however, their actions had already drawn attention in the worst way possible. Among the watching crowd were a few individuals who, seeing an opportunity to elevate their own status with the king, reported them to the King's Guard.
Sometimes, doing the right thing in a world full of cowards meant putting a target on your back.
And that target had just been painted.