Ace tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh? So what then?" he asked with a light chuckle. "You planning to hunt down some of the big pirates of the world? Go after the famous names and become some sort of legendary pirate hunter?"
Gojo's lips curved faintly beneath his blindfold. "It's not quite like that," he said, his tone lowering as if he were speaking more to himself than to Ace. "I will definitely hunt some of them, yes—but not all. I have respect for pirates who stand for something. Those who protect rather than destroy, who live with some sense of honor. Pirates like you, for instance." He tilted his head slightly toward Ace, as though acknowledging him without sight. "Although there are few like that, they do exist. So no, I won't be hunting every pirate who makes a name for himself on the seas."
His expression grew more serious, and for a moment, the air around him seemed heavier. "There are only a few—very few—people in this world that I truly want to hunt. People who have done things that can't be forgiven. For that, I need strength far beyond what I have now. You wouldn't understand, not yet. But once you leave East Blue… once you set foot in the Grand Line, maybe then you'll begin to grasp what I mean—who those 'big people' are that I'm talking about."
He paused, lowering his voice. "I have a personal vendetta with them. A reason I can't walk away from."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken weight. Even Ace, who usually met words like these with a laugh, found himself quiet. The flames around his shoulders flickered softly, reflecting in Gojo's still form.
Gojo leaned back slightly on the wooden log, folding his arms. Strange, he thought, I don't usually talk this much. He couldn't quite explain it, but something about Ace—the fire in his eyes, the fearless way he spoke—had drawn him out. Maybe it was because he hadn't met anyone this powerful, this alive, in a long time. Whatever the reason, he realized he had revealed far more than he intended to that day.
They waited in the clearing, the sound of rustling leaves and distant waves the only things breaking the silence. Time moved slowly—half an hour, perhaps more—before the crunch of footsteps signalled Masked Deuce's return. He appeared from the forest path, a large cloth sack slung over his shoulder, its bulging form tied tightly at the top. The faint clinking inside told everyone what it contained—treasures, gold, and jewels.
Gojo stood up from the wooden log as Deuce approached. Without a word, he extended his hand and caught the sack effortlessly when it was tossed his way. The fabric strained as he untied the knot and unfolded it right there in front of everyone. Golden coins, shimmering gems, and ornate trinkets gleamed in the sunlight, their brilliance momentarily catching the eyes of the Spade Pirates. Gojo inspected the contents in silence, then gave a single approving nod.
"Good," he murmured quietly, his voice steady. With an efficient motion, he tied the sack again, slinging it over his shoulder. Turning his back to the group, he began walking away, his blindfolded figure moving with quiet assurance. He didn't glance back even once. The faint pull of wind stirred his hair and the edges of his coat as he grew smaller in the distance.
Just before his silhouette faded into the horizon, Ace cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "When you come to the Grand Line, I'll definitely find you! And when I defeat you next time, we'll have a good drink together—as friends!"
Gojo paused mid-step. For a brief moment, the air seemed to still around him. A small smile formed on his face—soft, genuine. He said nothing, didn't turn around, but that faint smile lingered as he resumed his walk until he vanished from sight.
Ace exhaled slowly, watching him disappear. "He's something else," he muttered under his breath. His crewmates, still uneasy, gathered around.
"Now then, Captain," one of them asked, "what are we going to do?"
They looked dejected—their heads lowered, their spirits dimmed by their captain's defeat. Ace, however, suddenly broke into loud laughter. "Hahahahaha! What are you all sulking for?" he roared, flashing his usual grin. "It's just a loss! I'm not dead, am I? Come on! We're heading for the Grand Line. It's time we left this East Blue behind!"
His voice was full of fire again, burning brighter than his flames. The Spade Pirates couldn't help but smile, their morale lifting at his contagious confidence. Yet, even as Ace laughed, a few grimaces flickered across his face—small, fleeting signs that Gojo's attack had left its mark.
Masked Deuce noticed immediately. "Captain," he said, crossing his arms, "how about we rest here for a bit before we go? You're injured, and we've already lost a good portion of our treasure. Leaving for the Grand Line now would be reckless."
Ace looked at him, still grinning, and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry so much, Deuce. I'll be fine after some meat and a good sleep! You should know by now—I recover fast. As for treasure, we'll just earn it again. We're not the only ones setting sail for the Grand Line, right? There'll be plenty of other pirates waiting to donate their loot to us!"
The crew exchanged glances, and one by one, their laughter joined his. The tension broke, replaced by that familiar warmth of camaraderie. Watching their captain's fiery spirit remain unshaken, the Spade Pirates felt their confidence return. Their captain might have lost today—but his will burned brighter than ever.
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