The ship sailed steadily across the deep blue sea, heading toward Brubu Island.
Ritter had already made his decision.
He would bring Buffon and his people to Brubu Island, the "paradise" veiled in his blood mist and cut off from the world.
A place he was confident was completely safe.
"That place is safe enough," Ritter said. "It's just a bit lacking in people."
He had his own considerations.
Brubu Island's population was small. That meant a very real problem: survival and reproduction over generations.
A hundred years might not sound long to him, but without enough people, things could easily go wrong in ways no one wanted to think about. Too much inbreeding, declining vitality, all the ugly problems of isolation.
Ritter continued casually,
"Your people can merge with the original tribe there. More people means more strength. At least you won't slowly fade out from lack of numbers."
He glanced at Buffon and added,
"Besides, you were willing to stand up and protect the beasts in that situation, even daring to show anger and draw a line against a Navy Admiral. That kind of character… isn't bad."
Buffon trusted Ritter completely.
He nodded hard.
"We'll listen to Big Brother Ritter!"
After a period of sailing, the familiar coastline of Brubu Island finally appeared on the horizon.
Ritter waved his hand slightly, silently parting the misted passage he had set up, allowing both ships to glide into the protected bay.
The moment they docked, the news had already reached the village.
The old clan leader rushed over with a group of villagers, hurrying across the beach.
When he saw Ritter walking at the front with his usual lazy expression, his face immediately shifted into a complicated mix of emotions.
Relief.
Shock.
And something like surviving a disaster.
Ritter squinted.
Something was wrong with this old man.
His expression was too complicated to describe properly. Relief, joy, and a strong sense of "we made it out alive."
Ritter thought, This old man is definitely not normal.
Before Ritter could even speak, the clan leader rushed forward and grabbed him tightly, slapping his back hard as his voice trembled with emotion.
"You're back! You're finally back! That's good, that's good!"
Ritter froze.
"Uh, old man, I…"
"Don't say anything!" the clan leader cut him off, hugging him even tighter.
Ritter: You just interrupted my entire system process.
"Things are chaotic outside right now!" the clan leader continued urgently. "The Great Pirate Era… sigh! We don't get much news, but we've heard bits and pieces from travelers. There's some blood mist tyrant out there who's just like you. People don't like imitators, you know? It's good you came back to lay low! You're not doing well out there anymore, right? It's fine!"
Ritter finally understood.
This guy thought he had come crawling back after failing outside.
He forced a smile.
"No, you misunderstood. I didn't come back to settle down. I—"
"I understand! I understand!" the clan leader said immediately, patting his back again.
Ritter: You absolutely do not understand anything!
The old man nodded knowingly.
"Young people care about pride. You went out, saw the world, realized home is better, and came back. That's a good thing. No one will laugh at you here. Brubu Island will always be your home."
Then he noticed Buffon and the group of villagers behind Ritter, along with the docile beasts following them.
His expression softened even more.
"Oh, you even brought friends back? No problem! We have space! We have food! The more the merrier!"
Ritter stared at him in silence.
This was a "child finally coming home after suffering outside" expression.
He exhaled slowly.
Fine. Explaining would take too long.
He turned to call Buffon off the ship.
"Alright, everyone—"
"Alright what alright!" the clan leader interrupted again, grabbing Ritter's arm with surprising strength.
"Come home first! Warm soup is already being prepared! You must be exhausted! I'll take care of your friends!"
Ritter tried again.
"Old man, I really am not—"
"You are! You are!" the clan leader insisted, even pinching Ritter's cheek.
Ritter: !!!
"I knew it… you've suffered so much outside…"
Ritter felt his scalp go numb.
At this rate, they were about to get physically dragged back to the village.
He took a deep breath.
Fine.
Time for the final move.
He grabbed the clan leader's shoulders, leaned in, and pressed his forehead lightly against his.
The entire harbor went silent.
Ritter said seriously,
"Old man! Listen to me!"
The sudden intensity stunned the clan leader.
Even the villagers stopped talking.
Ritter seized the moment.
"I did NOT come back because I failed outside! I am not injured! I am not being chased! That so-called blood mist tyrant is me! I am doing very well out there! I came here just to send Buffon and his people to settle down, and to check on you all! I will leave again soon! I am going to become the Pirate King!"
He said it all in one breath.
Silence.
The clan leader stared at him.
He blinked slowly.
Then his expression turned into something even more complicated.
Understanding.
Sympathy.
And the unmistakable "this child is clearly under too much stress" look.
He reached out and gently patted Ritter's face again.
Ritter: Why is it always the face.
The clan leader sighed deeply.
"Ah… I see, I see…"
His tone was full of tolerance.
"You must've been under a lot of pressure out there. Even starting to say strange things…"
He shook his head.
"Pirate King… and that blood mist tyrant… the newspapers say he is a monster who leaves nothing alive in his wake. How could that possibly be you, you silly boy…"
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