Chapter Forty-One: Rossinandi

The Interna braved the wind and waves, forging ahead through tempests and obstacles, surging amid the stormy seas toward its lofty ideals… much like a proud sea swallow soaring aloft. Well, all that is just imagination, but at last, Qiu Bai had learned his lesson when it came to naming things—by bestowing this name, he had given the vessel a real, causally rooted resistance to sinking.

The weather over the North Sea was excellent at the moment. In fact, for all four seas—east, south, west, and north—no matter how foul the weather became, it would never approach the severity found in the New World. It was hard for anything to get truly out of hand; at the very least, there would never be icebergs falling from the sky.

Qiu Bai had also come to realize that Bepo truly possessed the fundamental qualities needed to become an outstanding navigator. Although he had only just begun learning the art of navigation, he already showed a comprehensive awareness—his attention was not limited to the manipulation of the sailboat itself; in fact, he already understood how to judge sailing conditions from various perspectives.

The state of the clouds, the activity and flocking patterns of migratory birds and fish—these were all targets of his observation.

This is not to say that Bepo had already mastered the art of precise weather prediction; far from it, really. Such skills require vast experience at sea and a wealth of knowledge. But the fact that Bepo understood the need to learn in all directions, that he knew what made an exemplary navigator and was willing to strive for it, and that he realized these things in the course of teaching himself—this was truly rare.

All the more so, seeing as he was, after all, just a bear.

Steering the sails, charting maps, plotting courses, reading the weather—a navigator’s job is to deliver the captain wherever he wishes to go.

Bepo was still a long way from that level. If Qiu Bai were to say, “Let’s go to Lastov,” Bepo would probably turn around and ask, “What’s Lastov? Can you eat it?”

Let him learn at his own pace; there’s no rush, and in any case, it cannot be hurried.

The Don Quixote family’s base was originally about a four-to-five-day voyage from Fitreus Island. Compared to the last journey at sea, Qiu Bai was making much better time this trip: first, the Interna itself was a fast sailboat; second, Bepo had made significant progress. The awkwardness of his earliest attempts was gradually falling away.

Sometimes, Qiu Bai couldn’t help but marvel: for some, navigation is a matter of talent; for him, it’s luck that keeps him from sinking. The bear really did outshine the man… how vexing.

On the whole, this voyage was smooth and enjoyable. The only slight annoyance was that Qiu Bai still talked a little too much—especially in the cramped confines of the boat, with only one person to absorb all his words, they seemed even more numerous.

“Bepo, are we there yet?”

“I’ve told you many times—we’ll be there soon.”

Now it was Qiu Bai who kept asking, never satisfied, while Bepo felt that, aside from being talkative, Qiu Bai had no other faults.

“Are you sure this is the right island? Is the course accurate? You’re not going to take us to the wrong place, are you?”

“I’ve never made a mistake with a destination!” Bepo retorted—and he was right. He had never made a mistake… because this was his very first time navigating.

Still, the bear couldn’t help getting a little annoyed at Qiu Bai’s incessant chatter. Well, it was only natural; there was a hint of distrust in Qiu Bai’s words, as if he were underestimating a bear.

Racial discrimination is simply wrong.

“…What I mean is, when we’re about to reach our destination, let me know. I need to take down the pirate flag,” Qiu Bai added, finally getting to the point.

In theory, a pirate ship’s flag cannot be lowered at will, and ordinary crew members have no authority to take it down. But reality often presents special circumstances—for instance, a ship flying the pirate flag simply cannot enter and exit ordinary ports at random. That’s a good way to get sunk.

Pirates are regarded as menaces, after all—they sometimes raid ports when they come ashore. Such universally reviled scum are naturally met with hostility. Most people agree: the fewer pirates, the better.

Bepo understood now, but he didn’t bother to respond to Qiu Bai. Not that Qiu Bai was out of tricks. “Hey, Bepo… Am I imagining things, or have you gotten a little taller?”

“Really?” Bepo nearly leapt up. “Looks like I’ve finally hit my growth spurt!”

Bepo’s dream was to grow into a five-meter, twenty-five-ton giant bear, and Qiu Bai’s words made him feel he was well on his way to achieving that goal. Naturally, he was delighted.

Qiu Bai curled his lip. Just in case, he decided to take down the pirate flag right now.

Speaking of growth, another matter came to mind: “Bepo, I remember that the Mink Tribe can harness electricity as a special combat method, right? Don’t get so caught up in navigation that you forget your natural abilities.”

Perhaps it was their fur, a mix of cotton, linen, and the occasional synthetic fiber, but the Mink Tribe all possess “electric generation” abilities. They can channel electricity over their bodies and weapons as a powerful form of attack, and this is a key reason for the Minks’ formidable fighting power. Static electricity—Bepo ought to have that.

Yet while the other Minks played with their electrical powers, the exiled Bepo had become more of a “Kung Fu White Bear.” Losing a means of combat was certainly a pity.

And it was just the sort of instinctive trait that Bepo, absorbed in his navigation studies, might have accidentally neglected.

Yet back in the Calm Belt, when Bepo’s identity was discovered, he had attacked Qiu Bai with an electric charge—hence this question.

“How could I possibly forget something like that!”

As he spoke, Bepo lifted one paw from the helm, and bright, crackling arcs of electricity danced across it.

Qiu Bai nodded in approval, though Bepo’s absolute certainty was a little irritating.

“Fitreus Island is just ahead.”

But his attention was immediately drawn to the more pressing matter.

An hour later, the Interna glided into an empty berth at the harbor. Qiu Bai left Bepo aboard and went ashore alone.

He wandered the port, seemingly aimless, but compared his route to a simple map in his hand. Soon enough, at the appointed spot, he found the person he was looking for.

Rosinante appeared to have been waiting outside all along. He was leaning against the steps below an inn… and in that moment, Qiu Bai realized Doflamingo had been right. Even without any prior impression of Rosinante, at first glance one could easily connect him to Doflamingo.

“Rosinante?” Qiu Bai strode over quickly and called his name in a low voice.

Rosinante frowned at him, as if comparing him to characteristics he’d heard described, then took out a small notebook and wrote:

“Shiro?”

He continued to pretend he’d lost the ability to speak… though in truth he had no such issue.

Qiu Bai nodded, confirming his identity.

But Rosinante immediately wrote again: “Be careful. I think the Navy is watching me.”

“Nine o’clock, behind me. I can sense two people keeping an eye on me, so I can’t make any sudden moves.”

What do you mean, “being watched”? Aren’t you Navy yourself?

Qiu Bai grumbled inwardly. Even if he weren’t Navy, someone dressed so flamboyantly like a pirate, covered in feathers, would naturally attract attention.

Still, his warning made Qiu Bai more cautious. The involvement of the Navy was not to be taken lightly.

Qiu Bai carefully glanced toward the place Rosinante had indicated—and realized he’d been had.

There wasn’t a trace of the Navy there. Inside a nearby shop were two figures who occasionally glanced outside, but they weren’t Navy—they were…

A butcher, with half a pig carcass swinging luridly in the wind by his side.