Chapter Ninety-Five: Like Me (Part One)

There is no need for any reason for two groups of pirates to coexist peacefully, just as there is no need for any reason for them to fight each other to the death. When two ships bearing different skull flags pass each other at sea, even though neither obstructs the other, it is all too common for them to exchange gunfire out of a kind of tacit understanding... Often, pirates embark on certain ventures simply because they are bored.

But this time, it seemed different. Though it was merely intuition, Qiubai sensed that the opponents acted with considerable purpose. Amidst the haze of cannon fire, he caught a glimpse of their unfamiliar pirate flag. If they weren't idly testing the power of their broadside on a passing ship, then they must have their sights set on something. It must be the "Fruit of Childhood." There was no time now to fret over how the intelligence had leaked; the motive was clear enough. Suspecting that the enemy was after the Devil Fruit, Qiubai decided to give it up without hesitation.

Though it was a useless, ruined Devil Fruit, he had wisely hurled it far into the open sea. If the pirates were lucky, perhaps they could find it... but without its powers, it was nothing but a foul-tasting fruit. Of course, the enemy would never guess this. Qiubai himself hadn't expected the discarded fruit to become relevant again, so they must assume that, in the moment of crisis, Qiubai threw it away—perhaps thinking, "If I can't have it, neither can you."

Qiubai had posed a choice: either continue to hunt down a handful of small fry, or immediately pursue the Devil Fruit. Every second mattered, increasing their chance of finding it. Blood poured into the water, dyeing the surrounding sea crimson almost instantly. Beipo's transformation and resistance lasted only a moment before he plunged into the ocean. After being battered by the barrage, Beipo was unconscious, eyes rolled back. Then his powers were lifted. No matter how his shape changed, he was still insignificant compared to the sea. Once submerged, the fruit's abilities would naturally fade.

Qiubai took a deep breath and, without hesitation, dragged both man and bear beneath the waves. The priority now was to flee from the enemy. Meanwhile, the adversaries had noticed someone flinging a brick-like object away during the explosion.

"Captain, the Devil Fruit is gone! What do we do now?"

"Pursue the fruit," the captain replied, calm and concise.

According to intelligence, two of the three members of Don Quixote’s group were ability users. Now, it seemed even the bear was one, meaning all three were submerged. Was there any hope for them? Who knew if Doflamingo wished for such an outcome, but clearly the captain paid no heed to the three underlings. Doflamingo disregarded the entire Komodo Pirate Crew, but the attitude here was much the same; the captain saw Doflamingo as his true rival, all others mere trifles.

By ordinary logic, the captain’s thinking was sound. Devil Fruit users cannot float nor dissolve in water; without rescue, they would simply drown. But who could have known one of them was a magician pretending to be an ability user?

Perhaps it would have been prudent to send a squad to confirm their deaths, but the captain clearly cared more about the fruit’s whereabouts... These troublesome kids had caused no end of problems, and the one with strength—who knew how far he had thrown that fruit? Searching the vast sea was like finding a needle in a haystack.

People are like this: although the incident began as Doflamingo’s "little game," Komodo’s actions did not align with his wishes. Doflamingo hoped this pirate crew would turn their ire against his "adorable" subordinates, but the crew valued power above all, seeking to seize the Devil Fruit for themselves.

Compared to that, Qiubai and his comrades were insignificant. Doflamingo’s notions were somewhat arrogant; everyone has their own agenda, and even controlling one’s own is hard, let alone outsiders. In short, the heavily armed pirate ship began to turn, slowly departing the reef zone and setting off in pursuit... Even if they managed to find the fruit after their search, who knows what they would think.

In the blood-red waters, Qiubai surfaced, watching the departing ship and confirming once more the design of its flag. Then he circled the reefs and swam in the opposite direction. Their own vessel was gone, and he had to drag two ability users with him... Fortunately, Qiubai knew the chart for this area, and the nearest island wasn’t too far. Unfortunately, "not too far" was a term meant for ships; now he had to swim.

Beipo would need treatment, battered by cannon fire—his injuries were easy to imagine. After travelling some distance, the pirate ship was out of sight. Qiubai placed the white bear atop his head, keeping Beipo’s wounds out of the salt water to prevent further bleeding.

Qiubai had hoped to encounter a passing captain willing to help, but luck was not with him; he saw nothing along the way. Thus, he swam at high intensity for nearly twenty-four hours, until he pushed both ability users onto the dock at a certain port.

Was he exhausted? Qiubai had never been so tired in either of his lifetimes, but he was lucky, and his years of physical training had not been wasted. Afterwards, claiming to have suffered a pirate attack, he received medical aid thanks to the kindness of strangers. He himself was merely exhausted, Beipo was gravely wounded, and Ain had not escaped unscathed either—her left shoulder and calf had been pierced by wooden splinters at least five centimeters wide, leaving her temporarily unable to move.

Yet, once out of the water, Ain quickly regained her senses. Compared to Beipo’s injuries, hers were easier to treat. Beipo, being a fur-covered Mink, was now torn and bleeding profusely—a daunting challenge.

...

Late at night, the hospital waiting room was pitch dark, but the operating room opposite blazed with light. Qiubai had labored to explain to the doctors that Beipo was not a bear, but an intelligent being called a Mink; otherwise, a "pet" would never be allowed onto a human operating table.

Qiubai lay sprawled on the sofa, Ain sitting directly opposite. Though his body was utterly exhausted, his mind was uncommonly alert. No matter how he turned over the events in his mind, it always came back to the name Doflamingo.

"Doflamingo... is it?" There had been no punishment for failing the mission—was it because Doflamingo had "anticipated" such an encounter?

"How amusing." So that was the true nature of the Heavenly Yaksha.

Whatever the case, Qiubai was powerless against Doflamingo now, but... what about the other pirate crew?

"Ain..." In the darkness, Qiubai’s voice sounded especially strained.

"Before we set sail, I said someday I would form my own crew... Did I say that?"

Ain didn’t reply, but he could barely make out her nod. She was gazing at Qiubai’s golden eyes, which in the darkness shone like translucent gems.

Though her thoughts embellished the scene, most would find it eerie; yet Ain found it beautiful, and beauty needs no justification.

"Companions? Family? Joyful voyages? The reason for founding a pirate crew is never so naive or sweet, nor is it for so-called 'self-fulfillment.' To be honest, my decision is driven by clear and rather selfish motives."

"In truth, I am quite fond of the pirate way of life—casting off cumbersome restraints and living in accordance with one’s own will. This is something ordinary people can never achieve, and merely imagining it brings a sense of liberation. So, despite any misfortune, I still believe my decision is not mistaken."

Qiubai understood full well how powerless ordinary people are before the vast construct of "society," for he had once been the most ordinary of them.

"If one can pluck the fruit one desires with one’s own hands, it is the best experience imaginable. But if the fruit is too significant, relying solely on oneself is almost an unattainable ideal, for the resistance is immense."

"Man is not a god. No matter how strong one is, the things one cannot do will always outnumber those one can... far, far more."

"So, to some extent, everyone must rely on others. I understand and accept this; in the end, companionship is necessary for any voyage."

"What cannot be done with one pair of hands requires two pairs."

"And since others' help is needed, one must prepare the appropriate 'courtesy.' Thus, even actions born of selfish motives require principles of 'justice'—if you borrow another’s hands, you must treat them as your own."

"Therefore, some things demand a price."

"Of course, speaking of selfishness, though it is ugly, no one can ignore this aspect of human nature. So, in reality, sacrificing an arm for something is not impossible... But for me, to achieve my final goal, even a single finger is indispensable. Lacking even a 'trivial' part, I cannot reach that destination; this is an inviolable 'objective limitation.'"

"In this sense, a single finger has the same value as my head. So... I am prepared to risk my head for a finger."

Qiubai’s words circled endlessly, but Ain understood them all with ease, and so she asked:

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes. I may need to go for a while... Please apologize to Beipo for me when he's better."

"Alone?" Ain, immobilized, was now a burden.

"Yes."

"Will you come back?"

"Of course."

"Then tell him yourself. I’m not good at talking to anyone but you."

"Is that so?" Qiubai laughed.

There is a philosophical question: When the world slanders, deceives, insults, mocks, belittles, despises, hates, or cheats you, how should you respond?

Just endure it? Let it be? Ignore it? Avoid it? Be patient? Respect it? Pay no mind?

No, Qiubai was far too ordinary ever to reach such a realm, even in five hundred years. His answer was...

Wait five minutes, and you’ll see.