No More Coughing
Holding the newspaper Lina had brought him, Charlotte's hands couldn't help but tremble.
He… was actually in the newspaper!
Although it was only a small corner, the description was vague, and the image was obscured by smoke and debris.
But what did it say?
"The swordsman Niskien was suspected to have been killed by a mysterious swordsman who had never been seen before."
There were pictures. There was evidence.
And the most damning part?
The famous sword Shigure, now in his possession, had belonged to Niskien.
Speculation suggested that Niskien's murder had been the spark that ignited the entire Island Food City incident.
The report was well-analyzed, thorough. Too thorough.
Charlotte's eyelids twitched wildly.
"What kind of analysis is this? The fuse? Me? That incident had been planned for a long time—I just happened to be there!"
Bang!
He slammed the table hard.
"Who the hell wrote this garbage?! Which street rat took that picture and made up all this nonsense?"
Rumors could be more dangerous than blades. Fame wasn't just a burden—it was a death sentence.
"This is blatant slander!"
Charlotte was furious. Absolutely livid.
Fame wasn't something to be proud of; it was a disaster waiting to happen. People feared fame, just as pigs feared getting fat—it only made them a bigger target.
And in this sea, a nameless drifter like him, with no wealth, no influence, no powerful backers, was easy prey.
Worse still, the Rocks Pirates—what remained of them—might take an interest in him. Unlikely, but not impossible.
And lunatics like them… they didn't operate with reason.
But the most dangerous threat? The one that truly sent a chill down his spine?
The World Government.
It wasn't just the pirates that made his head ache. If this newspaper caught the attention of the Navy, or worse, Cipher Pol, then—
That would be real trouble.
The Navy controlled the Four Seas, possessed countless bases, and had an astronomical military budget. They had men like Admiral Kizaru—monsters capable of erasing entire islands on a whim.
And behind them stood the World Government. Eight hundred years of absolute rule. Who knew what terrifying forces lurked in the shadows of Marijoa?
Only a fool would underestimate them.
Charlotte took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
Anger wouldn't fix anything.
The photo was blurry. The information was vague. Even his name wasn't mentioned.
There was a risk, yes. But it wasn't irreversible.
And the Navy hadn't issued a bounty.
Of course.
"I haven't done anything that goes against the world."
So why would they hunt him down?
Thinking about it this way, things were still under control.
So what was this, then?
He was kind of famous, but not completely famous.
"Not bad, not bad."
This outcome was acceptable—far better than the worst-case scenario he'd feared.
Charlotte let out a sigh of relief. He had no intention of stepping into the world's spotlight while he was still weak.
Without strength, fame was nothing more than a ticking time bomb.
Wouldn't it be better to live quietly?
Eat good food, drink fine wine, watch the waves, and enjoy life?
But if he became truly famous, he could forget about peace. Even his safety would be a problem.
His small body wouldn't survive that kind of trouble.
No—this was good. Staying low, growing strong behind the scenes, waiting for the right time… That was the only way to survive.
From now on, he had to be careful. Avoid unnecessary conflicts. Accumulate strength in secret.
And, for now—
Charlotte decided he would not set sail. Not anytime soon.
"As long as I don't go out to sea, no one will know me."
He clenched his fists.
This grudge—he would remember it well.
The World Economic Journal…
If he ever found out which miserable bastard took that picture—
He'd make sure they understood why the flowers are so red.
And Morgans? The so-called boss behind the scenes?
He was on the list too.
Charlotte gritted his teeth.
He had planned everything.
But somehow, this ridiculous newspaper had nearly gotten him into serious trouble.
Just then—
"Boss Charlotte!"
Ivan appeared, practically beaming, walking over with an eager expression.
Charlotte frowned.
Why did he suddenly have a bad feeling about this?
"Ivan, what's the good news?"
"Boss Charlotte! The flagship Heberfield you ordered has arrived at the port. We're painting the ship right now. Do you want to take a look?"
Charlotte visibly relaxed.
So it was just that.
"No need. Handle it yourself."
Ivan nodded, but then his eyes lit up.
"Boss, once Heberfield is ready, are you finally going to make a name for yourself on the seas?"
…
…Huh?
Charlotte's brain stalled.
Then, like a thunderclap, it hit him.
WHAT THE HELL DID THIS GUY JUST SAY?!
His expression twisted.
Was Ivan trying to get him killed?!
But Ivan, oblivious to the horror on Charlotte's face, was practically vibrating with excitement.
Cough.
Charlotte coughed twice—tactically.
He wasn't planning to set sail! The ship was just for emergencies!
He needed to shut this madness down.
"Ivan."
Charlotte's tone became solemn.
"Right now, everyone is still too weak. It's too dangerous to set sail. The lives of our comrades are more important than anything else—we must be patient."
Ivan blinked, stunned.
Then—
His eyes turned red.
"Boss, you're absolutely right! Everyone is too weak. I was impatient… I almost disappointed you, Boss Charlotte!"
Charlotte's heart softened.
Good.
Knowing one's mistakes and correcting them was a rare virtue!
This was a teachable moment.
This was a good Ivan.
Just as Charlotte was about to reassure him—
"Boss!" Ivan's voice was firm, filled with conviction.
"Don't worry! I'll make sure everyone trains harder than ever. We'll set sail soon, make Heberfield famous across the seas, and spread your will to the world!"
…
…???
Charlotte was speechless.
WHAT.
WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS GUY TALKING ABOUT?!
What will?
What are you saying?!
Did something happen while I wasn't looking?!
Charlotte fell into a spiral of self-doubt.
Meanwhile, Ivan watched Charlotte's silence with deep admiration.
"I knew it. Boss Charlotte does want to spread his will. But for our safety, he's holding himself back."
Moved, Ivan clenched his fists, making a silent vow.
Just then, Charlotte shuddered.
Why did he suddenly feel an ominous chill?
He shook his head. No time for distractions.
He couldn't kill Ivan's enthusiasm outright. But as for the standards to set sail—well, that was up to him.
Thinking this through, Charlotte felt more at ease.
He didn't cough at all.
Instead, he spoke calmly, confidently.
"Ivan. Train well. Life is above everything."
Ivan straightened his back, his expression resolute.
"Yes, Boss! I will engrave your teachings in my heart!"
Charlotte finally felt some relief.
At least, for now, things seemed… stable.
But deep down—
Something told him that peace wouldn't last for long.