Chapter 24: Persistence and Patience

The tavern was quiet, the warm dimness punctuated only by the clinking of glasses and the low murmur of conversations. We stepped through the entrance, the scent of aged wood and rum wafting over us as we glanced around, taking in the worn but cozy space.

"Not exactly a crowd," Mirabel murmured, scanning the bar.

Our target, Shakky's Rip-Off Bar, was as inconspicuous as it was renowned. I'd heard enough rumors to know it was no place for idle visitors, especially with Shakky herself at the counter. She was well known, both for her past as a pirate and as Rayleigh's wife. We approached the bar, and there she was, casually cleaning a glass, her movements fluid and precise.

Her gaze flickered up, sharp and assessing as she took us in with a single, knowing glance. Her eyes lingered on me, as though peeling back layers, searching for answers I hadn't yet offered.

"Welcome to Shakky's Rip-Off Bar," she greeted, her voice smooth, with a hint of amusement. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

I inclined my head politely. "That we are. We're here on business… looking for a ship coater."

Her gaze sharpened, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "A ship coater, hmm? You wouldn't happen to be looking for a certain former pirate with a knack for coating ships, would you?"

"Rayleigh," I replied directly, watching her expression. "We were told he was the best, and our ship won't make it through Fish-Man Island's waters without the right coating."

Shakky chuckled, setting down the glass with a faint clink. "You're not wrong, but Rayleigh's got his own business to handle. Coating your ship isn't exactly at the top of his priority list."

I gave a patient nod, my tone respectful. "I understand that. But if there's any way to arrange a meeting, we'd appreciate it. Our goal is to cross into the New World, and there's no one else with his skill."

She studied me for a moment, a glint of mild amusement in her eyes. "You've got determination. I'll give you that. But Rayleigh doesn't answer to just anyone who walks through that door."

Mirabel stepped forward, a hint of charm in her tone as she spoke. "We're not just anyone, though. We've come a long way to get here, and we'd only bother him if it were absolutely necessary."

Shakky's gaze shifted to Mirabel, her expression thoughtful but unyielding. "Be that as it may, Rayleigh's not one to be bothered on a whim. You're welcome to return another time, but don't get your hopes up."

The words were polite but final, and with a nod, I acknowledged the dismissal. "Thank you, ma'am. We'll be back another day."

As we turned to leave, Mirabel cast a sideways glance at me, her lips curving into a faint smile. "You don't give up easily, do you?"

"No," I replied quietly, "and I don't intend to start now."

....

And so, for the next several days, we returned to Shakky's Rip-Off Bar, each time asking if Rayleigh was available, and each time receiving the same patient but firm refusal. Shakky's tolerance wore visibly thinner with every visit, and by the fourth day, her tone was colder, her smile just a bit more forced.

On the fifth day, she didn't even wait for me to speak.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," she said, folding her arms as she looked me over with a raised eyebrow. "But I've already told you, Rayleigh has his own priorities. Your ship is not one of them."

Her irritation was clear, but I held my ground, keeping my voice steady. "I understand. But time is running short, and our path to the New World depends on his expertise."

A low chuckle interrupted us from a seat at the bar, and I turned, surprised to see an older man nursing a glass of rum at the counter. He was broad-shouldered, with silver hair that framed his face and a relaxed air that made him seem almost invisible in the subdued atmosphere of the tavern.

"Tell me, young man," he began, his voice rich and calm, "why are you so insistent on having Rayleigh coat your ship?"

There was something familiar about his tone, a calm authority that immediately drew my focus. I turned to face him fully, taking in his weathered face and the faint gleam of amusement in his eyes. Recognition dawned on me slowly, spreading through my chest like a ripple in still water.

This was him. The Dark King.

But as I looked closer, something in my mind hesitated. This Rayleigh wasn't exactly the man I'd seen in pictures and descriptions. He looked rougher, his eyes carrying a depth and life that felt too real, too complex, to fit a mere image or animated frame.

Realization hit me like a cold splash. This wasn't a character on a screen. This was a man, in flesh and blood, standing before me in a world as real as my own.

Mirabel gave me a sidelong glance, clearly picking up on my reaction, though she kept silent, her eyes on Rayleigh with a look of respectful curiosity.

"Rayleigh," I managed, inclining my head, careful to maintain a respectful tone. "I apologize for the persistence, but the journey ahead isn't one we can risk without proper preparation."

Rayleigh leaned back, studying me with a mixture of curiosity and faint amusement. "And what makes you think the New World is the right place for someone like you?" His gaze flickered to Mirabel, as though sizing us both up. "It's not a place for the unprepared… or the overly ambitious."

I met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I'm aware of the risks. I'm prepared for them."

A smile tugged at Rayleigh's lips, his expression relaxing slightly. "That confidence, where does it come from? You seem too… deliberate, too calculating, for the usual pirate chasing after glory."

"Glory isn't my goal," I replied firmly. "Knowledge, strength, freedom, those are the things I'm after. The New World offers challenges and answers I can't find here."

Rayleigh chuckled softly, swirling the rum in his glass. "Well, at least you're honest." He turned his gaze to Shakky, who had been watching the exchange with her own look of grudging approval.

Shakky sighed, crossing her arms as she regarded me. "You're lucky Rayleigh has a soft spot for those with a bit of nerve. But don't expect any special treatment."

Rayleigh shrugged, finishing his drink in a single, practiced motion before setting the glass back on the counter. "Let's not keep them waiting, Shakky. They've been here long enough."

She rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath, though I caught the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. "Fine. If he's that set on it."

Rayleigh pushed himself up from the stool, stretching his arms with a casual ease. "Meet me at the docks at sunset. I'll have a look at your ship and see if she's fit for the journey."

Relief washed over me, though I kept my tone even as I inclined my head in gratitude. "Thank you, Rayleigh. We'll be there."

He gave a slight nod, his expression unfazed. "Just don't expect any hand-holding. The New World is unforgiving, and the coating's only the beginning. Make sure you're ready for what lies beyond."

With that, he turned and left the bar, his footsteps light but assured, leaving me and Mirabel standing in the lingering warmth of the tavern. Shakky watched him go, her gaze softening just slightly before she turned back to us.

"You'd better be as prepared as you say you are," she said, her tone part warning, part acceptance. "Rayleigh doesn't take on any customer."

Mirabel smiled, nodding. "We know."

As we stepped back out into the bustling streets of Sabaody, a sense of anticipation settled over us. The day's light was beginning to dip, casting long shadows that stretched across the mangrove roots, blending into the undercurrents of the archipelago.

Mirabel glanced at me, her eyes bright with curiosity and excitement. "That was him. Rayleigh. Do you realize how big this is?"

I nodded, my thoughts a mixture of exhilaration and resolve. The man we'd met wasn't just a legend or a piece of some grand story. He was real, flesh and blood, with a presence and depth that I hadn't anticipated.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice low. "I know."

But beneath the thrill was a quiet realization that carried a weight of its own: this world was no illusion, no shallow story bound to a page. It was real, unpredictable, and far more complex than I'd ever allowed myself to imagine. And as we made our way back to the ship, I felt the fire of purpose reignite within me.

Whatever awaited us in the New World, I would be ready.

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