On the calm surface of the sea, a caravel with a lamb-head figurehead was sailing slowly.
Opening his eyes in a daze, Sherlock sat up and looked around. He found himself lying in the men's quarters of the Going Merry. Judging by the empty bunks around him, it was already quite late.
(Strange, did I actually sleep in today? No, that's not right. Wasn't there a banquet earlier?)
Sherlock frowned slightly. He tried to think back, but he could only recall draining the liquid in his wooden cup. As for what happened after that, Sherlock couldn't remember a thing.
(Could it be? Was that cup actually filled with alcohol?)
Shaking his head, Sherlock stopped dwelling on it. He put on the silver-rimmed glasses resting on the desk, climbed up the ladder out of the cabin, and stepped onto the deck.
"Yah! Sherlock, you're finally awake!"
"How are you feeling now, Sherlock?"
"Sherlock, you've been asleep for nearly a whole day! You sure can sleep, ahahaha!"
Seeing the Warlock awake, the Straw Hats on deck put down their tasks and hurriedly gathered around him.
"En, I am fine now." Sensing the concern from his crewmates, Sherlock felt a warmth in his heart, though his face showed no sign of it, maintaining his usual calm and composed demeanor.
"You haven't eaten all day; you must be starving." The curly-browed cook lit a cigarette and asked, "Need me to make you something?"
"I couldn't be more grateful." Sherlock performed an elegant bow to express his thanks.
"Ha, you're always so meticulous about etiquette. Why be so polite~" Sanji grinned and turned to head into the kitchen.
(I have to say, the usually gentle and refined Sherlock and the drunk Sherlock are like two completely different people...)
Luffy, Nami, Zoro, Chopper, and Usopp exchanged glances, their expressions varying. The massive contrast in the Warlock after he got drunk was quite astonishing to them.
Gently pushing up his glasses, Sherlock looked at the strange expressions on Nami and the others' faces and asked suspiciously:
"Last night... did I get drunk?"
The group nodded in unison.
"Is that so..." Sherlock sighed. His eyes narrowed slightly as he said in a low voice, "Then, did I do something after getting drunk? My body feels a bit strange right now, as if I got into a fight with someone."
"Eh? Sherlock, do you really not remember anything from last night?" A drop of cold sweat slid down Nami's smooth forehead.
That massive bomb... if it weren't for Robin's quick thinking, the consequences would have been unimaginable! And the instigator has no idea it even happened.
(But, this is for the best. Better not let him know about that kind of thing.) Coincidentally, Zoro and the others all shared this same thought.
Of course, with the exception of a certain straw-hatted idiot...
"En... last night, ah, Sherlock, first you... Mmph!" Before the simpleton captain could finish his sentence, Usopp and Zoro, their faces pale with fright, immediately clamped their hands over Luffy's mouth.
"Idiot! Don't talk nonsense!" x2
The little reindeer stepped forward, waving his little hooves with a sheepish laugh. "Sherlock, don't worry about it! You didn't do anything after you got drunk! You didn't do a thing!"
Clearly, Chopper, who was incapable of hiding his inner thoughts, was terrible at lying. His stiff explanation only served to tell Sherlock that something very terrifying had indeed happened last night.
(Looks like really bad things happen when I get drunk. But why are they hiding it from me, just like Anna and her group used to?)
Sherlock wasn't one to break the casserole just to ask about the cracks—he wasn't the type to pry deeply, especially regarding things his partners were trying their hardest to conceal. He had never made a habit of pressing for answers.
Shaking his head with some resignation, Sherlock looked toward Nico Robin, who was sitting quietly on a lounge chair nearby, reading a book.
The charming mature beauty seemed to sense the Warlock's gaze. She turned her head, the corners of her mouth curling up elegantly, and smiled in acknowledgement.
Late at night, all was silent. After a day of sailing, the Straw Hats had entered the dreamland, all except for tonight's watchman.
"Alright, let the brilliant and mighty Captain Usopp take the watch tonight!" The long-nosed brother was wrapped in a thick wool blanket, sitting in the lookout post atop the mast. While rubbing his hands together, he muttered to himself:
"Nami said as long as that cloud doesn't change, the weather won't be a problem. She's really amazing, that navigation skill of hers."
"Ah, keeping watch alone is so boring..."
"Hey, Usopp."
Usopp instantly jumped up, startled by the sudden voice. He turned back with a pale face only to find the speaker was Sherlock. The transparent lenses of his glasses reflected a white gleam, making it impossible to see his eyes.
"Whew... it's just you. Scared me to death." Usopp let out a long breath and asked in confusion, "Why aren't you asleep yet, Sherlock?"
Flipping into the crow's nest, Sherlock pushed up his glasses. "Because I slept too much during the day. I can't sleep. How about I take over the watch for you tonight?"
"Really? Sherlock, you're the best!" The long-nosed brother's eyes lit up. He then patted the Warlock's shoulder with a solemn expression.
"Good! Sherlock, I entrust this arduous task to you! Hehehe..." Saying that, Usopp excitedly scrambled down the mast.
Sherlock sat in the lookout post, looking up at the sky. The stars were dense, resembling a sheet of black silk scattered with pearls—extremely beautiful.
"The stars tonight are beautiful too..." Sherlock sighed softly, his gaze somewhat distant.
The Going Merry returned to its initial tranquility.
After a long while, a slight noise suddenly came from beneath the mast. Sherlock checked using his Transmission Mirror, and his expression changed slightly.
(Why is she here?)
Followed by a waft of intoxicating floral scent, a beautiful figure climbed nimbly into the lookout post.
"What's with that expression? What? You don't want to see me, Sherlock?" Nico Robin sat down beside Sherlock, wrapping her arms around her knees with a faint smile.
"No, how could that be? I'm just curious why you aren't asleep this late." Sherlock shook his head. "After all, staying up late is the enemy of a woman's skin."
"Fufufu, then I truly thank you for your concern." Robin continued to smile elegantly, her gaze toward Sherlock filled with an indescribable implication.
"..." Sherlock didn't reply. He stared back at this charming woman beside him, his thoughts unknown.
Under the sky full of stars, inside the crow's nest on the mast, the man and woman, each harboring their own thoughts, looked at each other in silence. The atmosphere was quite strange.
There is a benefit to communication between smart people: there is very little nonsense. Sometimes, a single look is worth a thousand words.
A long time passed.
"You know everything?" Sherlock suddenly asked out of nowhere. Robin nodded gently in confirmation.
"Is that so..." Sherlock closed his eyes and shook his head. "I should have guessed. When we left Whiskey Peak, you were able to articulate the true meanings of 'Sarsalian' and 'Nefertari.' You must know the traditions of the Sarsalian family as well."
Robin nodded again.
"Should I say, as expected of a scholar from Ohara? You really know quite a lot." Sherlock smiled bitterly and exhaled a breath of turbid air. "Since you know everything, what is it you want to ask?"
Robin spoke very calmly, "I just wanted to be someone you could talk to."
"Someone to talk to?" Sherlock frowned slightly.
"Yes, a listener." Nico Robin revealed a gentle smile. "After all, if you keep some things bottled up inside without saying them, over time, you'll think yourself into an illness."
"Whether you want to tell me or not, I already know, don't I? So you don't need to have so many reservations."
"Besides, as an exchange, I will tell you some intelligence you might want to know."
Sherlock looked at this intellectual beauty with astonishment. "Since when did you become so kind-hearted? This doesn't seem like the style of the 'Devil Child'."
"Fufu." Robin didn't answer, her beautiful blue-and-black eyes curving into crescents.
(What exactly is this woman selling in her gourd?) Even with his wits, he couldn't quite figure out Nico Robin's true intentions at this moment.
(But, a listener, huh?)
Sherlock had always been the listener for others. Around him—the perfect audience—people would involuntarily pour out their heartfelt thoughts. Yet, Sherlock himself had never had anyone to listen to him.
(Fine, I'll treat it as relieving boredom...)
Thinking of this, Sherlock pushed up his glasses and spoke faintly:
"The Sarsalian Family, one of the Twenty Kings who created the world, commonly known as the World Nobles—the Celestial Dragons." Mentioning the Celestial Dragons, a sharp glint flashed through Sherlock's eyes.
"The Celestial Dragons have a very strong concept of race, and the Sarsalian family is even more bizarre. aside from bloodline, they even view silver hair as the symbol of their clan. They hold a fanatical worship for it, and to maintain this sacred hair color, the Sarsalian family has always practiced inbreeding."
"Sarsalian Silver?" Robin supplemented.
"Correct." Sherlock nodded and explained, "In a standard set of 128 colored pencils, there is an extremely brilliant bright silver labeled: Sarsalian Silver. It is actually taken from the hair color of the Sarsalian clansmen."
"However, there was one member of the Sarsalian family who had a head of jet-black hair from the moment he was born..." A clear night breeze brushed past, blowing Sherlock's hair.
"Because of his hair color, he suffered the contempt of his own clan in Mary Geoise. He was even ostracized by other Celestial Dragons."
"As time went on, unable to bear it any longer, he finally ran away."
"Ran away?!" Robin was shocked. She had heard of slaves escaping the Holy Land, but this was the first time she had heard of a Celestial Dragon running away.
"Even though he was ostracized by other Celestial Dragons, he was still a Celestial Dragon, so the World Government had no right to interfere with where he wanted to go. And regarding his departure, the Sarsalian family held a tacit attitude of approval."
"He was very smart. He knew the outside world was very hostile toward Celestial Dragons, so he concealed his true identity and lived an ordinary life—unlike that guy's father..."
Speaking of this, the image of a tall figure with blonde hair wearing red sunglasses instantly surfaced in Sherlock's mind. Lines of black gloom appeared on his face, as if he recalled something chilling.
"This Celestial Dragon's name was Fresnel Sarsalian. Fresnel... is my grandfather." Sherlock smiled and said, "I have to say, my grandfather was a man with a lot of character. Although, I never saw him even once; he had already passed away..."
"Fresnel? Dr. Fresnel?!" Hearing the name of Sherlock's grandfather, Robin's beautiful face was instantly covered in shock. "Sherlock, your grandfather... he wouldn't happen to be an archaeologist..."
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