The cabin was filled with a faint scent of tobacco. Bahr lay sprawled across the large bed covered with a cloud silk cushion, the cigarette between his fingers burning down to its end, ashes scattering onto the silk sheets.
He exhaled a smoke ring through half-lidded eyes, and suddenly, the image of Sadi struggling in the Rope Cloud flashed through his mind.
These past few days, he had visited the prison every day, always turning to leave just as she reached the peak of her excitement. The woman's gaze had shifted from infatuation to frustration, and now to tearful pleading—far more resilient than he had expected.
"Tch, what a tenacious one," he chuckled lowly, crushing the cigarette butt.
Even he found this back-and-forth exhausting, but at least he always had ways to unwind. Unlike Sadi, who had no choice but to hang there in torment.
A soft panting sound came from beside him. Bahr tilted his head to look at Pascia, curled up near the pillow.
Her disheveled hair clung to her sweat-dampened temples, her cheeks still flushed with lingering heat. She was loosely wrapped in one of his shirts, the collar hanging open to reveal delicate collarbones.
"Remember what I promised you," Bahr said, his voice lazy from recent exertion. "One month with me, and then you could go home. Time's up. When we reach Sabaody Archipelago, I'll give you some money, and you can leave."
Pascia's lashes fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes.
She studied the sharp contours of Bahr's profile, her lips parting slightly. After a long silence, she finally spoke in a small, slightly hoarse voice, "I… can I stay with you, boss?"
Bahr turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "Why? Don't want to go home?"
Pascia's fingers unconsciously tightened around the silk sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white. She quickly lowered her lashes, the long shadows they cast hiding the emotions in her eyes.
Home? What home did she even have?
From the moment she could remember, she had grown up in the tents of the Mobile Dance Troupe—her master's whip, endless spins, toes blistered from pointe work—that was all her life had ever been.
The troupe was her home. But that day at the port, when masked men stormed in, that "home" shattered like a mirror dropped on the ground.
Props crates overturned, her sisters' screams mingling with the sound of waves—the last thing she saw before a hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her away was her master collapsing in a pool of blood.
The traffickers stuffed her into a cramped wooden crate. In the darkness, she heard them calculating, "With a figure like this, she'll fetch a high price dancing."
But what they wanted was never her dance—just her body, something to sell for profit. Today, to a wealthy merchant for amusement; tomorrow, to a noble for entertainment. No different from the slaves bound in chains.
Staying here, at least Bahr kept his word.
He might seem cold, but he had never looked at her with the same greedy eyes as those men. The crew kept to themselves, and no one laid a hand on her.
Pascia bit her lower lip, forcing down the storm of thoughts in her heart. She only lifted her gaze to meet Bahr's, the corners of her eyes reddening as she whispered, trembling, "I… I have nowhere to go."
Bahr's gaze lingered on her face for a moment, but he didn't press further.
Pascia seemed encouraged by the silence and inched closer, her voice tinged with pleading. "The Sabaody Archipelago is so chaotic... I don't think I could make it out of the harbor alone with the money. Last time, getting saved by you was pure luck. I don't dare gamble on it happening again."
She paused, fingers twisting the hem of her shirt until her knuckles turned white. "I want to stay. I'll serve you well—make the bed, wash clothes, cook. I can even dance... Just let me stay with you."
Her lips pressed together nervously, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Those same eyes, usually so lively when she danced, now brimmed with cautious hope, like a lost bird waiting for a word of reassurance to settle its restless wings.
Bahr looked at her and suddenly chuckled, reaching out to pat her head. "Fine, stay then. But let's be clear—there's no room for slackers on this ship. Pull your weight."
Pascia's head snapped up, her eyes instantly alight like kindled sparks. She nodded eagerly, her voice trembling yet brimming with suppressed joy. "I will! I can do anything!"
Bahr waved her off and settled back onto his pillow. "Alright, get some sleep."
One more person wouldn't make a difference. The ship was big enough; an extra bowl and pair of chopsticks hardly mattered.
Pascia murmured an "Mm," carefully shifting closer to him, curling up like a sparrow finding a safe perch. Outside, the gentle lapping of waves against the hull mingled with her steadying breaths, filling the quiet cabin with an unfamiliar warmth of security.
.....
Within days of leaving Amazon Lily, they reached the waters near the Sabaody Archipelago.
As the outline of the bubble-dotted islands came into view, Bahr stood at the ship's railing and jerked his chin at Shura behind him. "Use your ability. Make the ship vanish."
Shura nodded, and the power of the Invisibility Fruit quietly took effect. The entire Ark Maxim seamlessly blended into the horizon, even the wake of their passage obscured as if veiled by an unseen curtain.
Bahr turned to Enel, who lounged against the railing on deck, twirling his golden rod with his usual air of innate arrogance, as though nothing around him warranted his attention.
"Hey," Bahr called, his voice dropping lower. "Behave yourself here. No trouble."
Enel lifted a lazy eyelid to glance at him but said nothing.
"Don't think I don't know what you're planning," Bahr continued, glaring. "The scum in the Lawless Zone might not interest you, but stirring up trouble will bring the Marines down on us. After the Summit War, this place is more sensitive than ever. Rein in that temper of yours."
That seemed to strike a chord. Enel's fingers stilled on the golden rod for a moment before he finally let out a dismissive "Hmph," a tacit agreement.
Watching Enel's retreating back as he headed below deck, Bahr's lips curled faintly.
The Summit War had given him a new perspective on Enel. The man might be full of himself, but he wasn't reckless—he knew when to pick his battles.
And Enel, it seemed, had also revised his opinion of Bahr. No longer did he flippantly threaten Divine Punishment at every turn.
At least on this ship, he was willing to follow orders to some extent, and a subtle superior-subordinate understanding gradually developed between them.
"Boss." Pascia approached with a glass of water, carefully handing it to him.
Bahr took the glass, glancing at her flushed cheeks. Ever since deciding to stay, the girl had been eager to find things to do, yet always carried a timid restraint.
The ship slowly entered a secluded bay on the outskirts of the archipelago. Bahr had his men seek out the most renowned Coating craftsman in the area, granting him freedom to move about the ship with all necessities provided, but strictly forbidding him from disembarking until the work was completed.
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