Chapter Fourteen: The Direct Assault Method

Captain Grisha was certainly not a person without a story; in fact, his story was of such importance that it demanded to be told.

His homeland was a small island much like Whale Island, Qiu Bai’s own birthplace, but the natural environment there was far harsher. At least Whale Island, though isolated, could sustain itself, but Captain Grisha’s home was so inhospitable that it was barely fit for human habitation.

In fact, there were no original inhabitants on that island at first.

But things changed when the World Government discovered valuable mineral deposits there. The first settlers—miners—were relocated to the island, and for a time, mining supported the island’s existence. Captain Grisha’s vast seafaring experience came from countless transports of those minerals.

But all resources are finite. By the time Captain Grisha, a second-generation miner and true native of the island, had come of age, the vital mineral resources had been exhausted.

In any society, the attitude of those at the bottom is often the same. The World Government’s management of the miners was akin to enslavement, though to the enslaved, that oppression was ironically indispensable. Once the mining industry collapsed, things only grew worse—the miners found themselves unable to survive without their former chains. This was the legendary plight of “craving slavery yet being denied it.” When the minerals ran dry, the World Government left a few battered ships behind for the miners and then withdrew completely.

Deprived of government supplies and support, the island’s people—lacking the means for self-sufficiency—were forced by desperation to seek a new path. Yet, beyond mining, they had little in the way of skills or livelihoods.

With the future uncertain, the miners splintered into factions. Captain Grisha, a figure of considerable standing, led one such group. But his plan was so extreme that only the thirty-odd souls now aboard his ship chose to follow him.

Precisely because his desperate gamble was a path to certain death, he was so intent on forcing the innocent Qiu Bai and his companion off the ship.

There were doubtless many in the world under the World Government’s dominion who had suffered as Grisha had, yet few possessed his measured madness, his unflinching resolve.

“Have you ever heard of a fruit called ‘Plainberry’?” Captain Grisha patted his son’s head, sending him off to play, then addressed Qiu Bai and Ai En.

They both shook their heads; the name meant nothing to them.

“It’s a rare fruit that grows only in certain special environments in the New World, and it’s one of the few crops that our homeland, Little Rock Island, can produce. In fact, Little Rock Island is its most renowned place of origin, though…” His voice trailed off.

“Though?” Qiu Bai prompted.

“No, it’s nothing.” Captain Grisha was likely lamenting that the meager harvest and low price of the fruit could never sustain the island.

“In short, this fruit has a most ‘delicate’ flavor—initially bland and tasteless, but capable of leaving a lingering sensation on the palate. Its price is modest, making it quite popular in the New World.”

“Yet this fruit, commonplace in the New World, is almost unheard of in the Four Seas. Owing to the well-known difficulties of travel, Plainberries are nearly impossible to export beyond the New World. If they could be delivered to the Four Seas, they would fetch a price a hundredfold higher.”

“But…” At this point, Qiu Bai already anticipated the inevitable “but.” After all, no one reaps such profits easily—if it were simple, why would the price soar so high?

“But that fortune is unattainable, because Plainberries have a notorious flaw: no matter what preservation methods are used, their shelf life never exceeds ten days. After ten days, they rot without exception.”

“Ten days?” Qiu Bai echoed.

“Ten days,” Grisha affirmed.

Even with the Navy’s most advanced navigation, it was impossible to leave the New World and reach the Four Seas within ten days.

For context: the Grand Line encircles the world like an equator, and, together with the Red Line—a meridian-like continent that intersects it—divides the world into four parts, the Four Seas. Passage in and out of the Grand Line is tightly controlled; it is a closed loop, accessible only through special locations like Reverse Mountain.

What seals the Grand Line is the Calm Belt, a unique sea on either side. If one were to compare it to a certain planet’s geography, the Grand Line would be akin to the tropical low-pressure belt, while the Calm Belt would be the subtropical high-pressure zones, locking the Grand Line in place.

The Calm Belt is an “absolute stillness zone” devoid of wind and currents; at this technological stage, when sail power is everything, no ship can cross it. Even with engines, it’s nearly impossible, for the Calm Belt is also the nesting ground of the enormous sea kings.

Their numbers are endless, and they crush anything that dares pass overhead to dust. The threat is so grave that even the Navy’s most powerful admirals avoid venturing there.

“Risk and profit always go hand in hand—it’s only logical. So… Captain Grisha, are you saying this ship is a fruit transport vessel?” Qiu Bai’s response was sharp; he instantly understood the true meaning behind the captain’s words.

Captain Grisha did not answer directly. “Essentially, we have to take an extreme route. That’s why we can’t let you travel with us. Do you understand?”

Qiu Bai understood completely—more than completely. He had always thought that two people on a single ship, braving the New World, was reckless enough. But this seemingly calm captain was even crazier than he—no, than he, Qiu Xiao, could ever dream of.

That also explained why the Giant, supposedly bound for the North Sea, was heading almost perpendicular to the usual route.

Even with Qiu Bai’s meager knowledge of geometry, he knew one thing: the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

As for the great circle route and such, he neither understood nor thought it relevant here.

So the question arose: how could one deliver this fruit to the North Sea within its shelf life?

The answer was simple—Captain Grisha planned to cross the Calm Belt, to sail a route that meant certain death.

But his warning had the opposite of its intended effect; this was the error that came from not understanding Qiu Bai’s character. If there wasn’t already trouble, he’d go looking for it. Now that he knew the truth, was he likely to disembark willingly?

The look he gave the captain was utterly changed. This old man, he admired immensely… Evidently, Ai En was right to call Qiu Bai a madman.

But for Qiu Bai, this was simply another facet of “observing humanity.”

The weak, the tenacious,
the foolish, the stubborn,
the lowly, the timid, the indomitable—
Humanity always contains boundless possibilities. Captain Grisha’s voyage could hardly be called noble; it was simply an act of furious defiance. Yet it was enough to make one’s heart tremble with excitement.

A group of ordinary people, plotting to cross the Calm Belt—what could be bolder, more reckless, more absurd? What act of defiance could be more absolute?

At times, Qiu Bai’s temperament resembled that of one of the Three Giants of Ikebukuro; right now, he almost wanted to shout some famous line like, “I love humanity!”

But in truth, it was not so much love for humanity as fascination with their frantic struggles in the face of despair.

Thus, Qiu Bai’s response was only to be expected:

“If that’s how it is, then please—let us accompany you.”

“Please!”