Chapter 152: You'll Have to Work Harder (Patreon)

Chapter 152: You'll Have to Work Harder

The sails billowed full with the sea breeze, carrying the shadow of Dressrosa farther and farther away.

The island gradually shrank into a faint silhouette on the horizon, the spires of the palace blurring into tiny dots before finally dissolving into the orange hues of the evening sky.

Rebecca clung to the ship's railing, her white skirt fluttering wildly in the wind. Her small hands gripped the rail tightly, her knuckles turning white, her gaze fixed unwaveringly in that direction. Her shoulders trembled slightly, as though something was lodged in her throat, yet she couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Auntie, Mr. Soldier is still there... Aren't we going back for him?" She lifted her face, her emerald-green eyes misty with unshed tears, her voice thick with emotion, the last words nearly scattered by the wind.

Viola crouched down, gently tucking Rebecca's wind-tousled braid behind her ear. Her voice was soft and soothing, yet carried an undercurrent of steady reassurance:

"He has things to do, you know. Once we reach a safe place, he might come looking for us."

She had been saying this the entire journey, but the disappointment in Rebecca's eyes hadn't lessened in the slightest.

The little girl lowered her head, watching the churning waves along the ship's side. Suddenly, she sniffled, and tears fell without warning. "But I'm scared... I'm scared he won't be able to handle it alone, just like before—"

"Crying won't solve anything." Bahr's voice cut in, neither loud nor soft, just enough to rise above the wind, causing both of them to pause.

Rebecca flinched at the sudden interruption, instinctively shrinking behind Viola, peeking out with only half her face, staring at him timidly.

Bahr tugged at the corner of his mouth and took two steps forward, looking down at her. "You want to go back for that soldier—do you just want him to protect you forever?"

Rebecca pressed her lips together and didn't answer, burying her face deeper, but her shoulders tensed, as if bracing for a challenge.

"What if he's gone?" Bahr's voice was calm, devoid of any particular emotion. "Or like now—what if you can't even see him? What will you do then?"

"You're lying!" Rebecca jerked her head up, tears welling up again, but she stubbornly tilted her chin to keep them from falling. "Mr. Soldier would never be gone! He's really strong!"

"Even the strongest people have moments when they can't protect others." Bahr's gaze fell on her small hands, still gripping the railing. "If you want to protect someone, if you want to find someone, crying and waiting won't help. You have to get stronger yourself—strong enough to cut through the waves in your way, strong enough... to not always hide behind someone else."

"Can I... really get stronger?" she whispered, her voice trembling badly, yet carrying a faint, hesitant hope she didn't dare let show.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she suddenly clenched her fists, as if remembering something. The tears in her eyes faded slightly, replaced by a stubborn determination. "If I get stronger... can I find Mr. Soldier sooner? Can I... can I help him?"

"If you're willing to set aside those useless fears and pick up real weapons, maybe you could." A rare hint of a smile tugged at Bahr's lips. "I happen to need an errand-running apprentice. Want to give it a try?"

Rebecca's eyes widened sharply as she looked between Bahr and her aunt. When Viola nodded at her, the little girl sniffled, suddenly wiped away her tears, and clenched her small fists so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Tilting her flushed face upward, she shouted with all her might: "Yes! I want to become strong! When I'm powerful, I can find Soldier-san myself and never have to wait for others to protect us again!"

Her voice carried far on the wind, though the silhouette of Dressrosa had long disappeared from view.

Bahr watched the fire ignite in the little girl's eyes but said nothing, merely quirking his lips before turning toward the ship's cabin.

He knew exactly who that "Soldier-san" was, and what dirty dealings lay beneath Dressrosa's surface "peace."

But so what?

Bahr and Doflamingo were currently grasshoppers tied to the same string. To pick at Dressrosa's scars now and tell Rebecca that the Soldier-san she yearned for was actually her father?

That would be asking for trouble.

The intelligence network and underground channels in Doflamingo's hands were things Bahr temporarily needed. As for Kyros and Rebecca's father-daughter bond—that was their own business. No reason for him to stop and get involved.

Night fell in the ship's cabin.

Viola's hair swayed with her movements, her wine-red curls brushing against her shoulders. A drunken flush colored her cheeks as fine sweat beaded at her temples, trailing down her jawline to disappear into the folds of her low-cut dance dress.

She spun in delicate steps, her skirt blooming like a flower. Each turn carried just the right amount of allure, yet her gaze remained fixed on the man lounging on the sofa.

Bahr held a cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling lazily before his eyes. He watched the solo performance with half-lidded amusement.

"About Rebecca... thank you." Viola's breathless voice slowed her dance steps as she brushed stray hairs from her forehead. Gratitude shone in her eyes, mixed with something more complicated.

Bahr exhaled a smoke ring that wobbled through the air before dissipating. "No big deal."

His gaze drifted over her slightly parted collar as he added with casual teasing, "Besides, isn't this what her devoted aunt is here for?"

Viola caught his meaning, her cheeks deepening to crimson, the flush spreading to her ears.

A soft "Mm" escaped her lips, shyness flickering in her eyes. Yet she didn't stop moving—instead hiking her skirt higher, her dance growing more seductive. The silk ribbon at her waist swayed with each undulation, coiling like a...

Just then, a light knock sounded at the cabin door, followed by Rebecca's timid voice: "Auntie? Are you in there?"

Viola froze mid-motion, all traces of allure vanishing from her face, replaced by panic.

She bit her lip unconsciously, her dance dress still bunched messily around her waist. If Rebecca saw her like this, how could she ever face the girl normally again?

"I—I'm here." She steadied herself, forcing calm into her voice. "What is it, Rebecca?"

"I... I'm a little scared of the dark... Can I sleep with Auntie tonight?" The little girl's voice trembled with a hint of tears, laced with bashful hesitation.

Viola let out a quiet sigh but kept her voice low. "Go back to your room first and wait for me, okay? Auntie will come find you after she finishes some things."

The hallway fell silent for a moment before a soft "Mm" drifted back, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Only then did Viola press a hand to her chest, exhaling shakily. A thin layer of sweat had already formed on her back. Before she could steady herself, a sudden jolt ran through her, forcing a muffled gasp from her throat. The flush on her cheeks deepened, her breathing growing ragged.

"Eager to go back and comfort your niece?" Bahr stubbed out his cigarette, lips curling into an amused smirk. "Then you'll have to put in more effort."

Viola's lashes fluttered as she swept her long hair back, baring the smooth curve of her neck. She shifted her stance—this time, her movements shed the practiced allure for something more unrestrained, each dip of her body brushing against him with teasing lightness, a silent answer to his challenge.

Bahr watched as Viola moved with the rhythm, her wine-red curls gleaming under the lamplight, her scent filling the air between them with every breath.

Not bad at all.

The oil lamp in the cabin still burned, casting their entwined shadows against the wall, swaying gently like a wordless nocturne.