The sun gradually sank westward.
Hina abruptly turned her face away, roughly wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. The spot where her fingertip brushed instantly flushed red, the color spreading from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. When she lifted her head, the shame and anger in her eyes had nearly solidified into substance as she stared fixedly at Ryan, her voice tight with restraint: "It's time for you to keep your promise."
"No problem." Ryan was holding a cigar between his teeth. Upon hearing this, he slowly exhaled a smoke ring, his face wearing a lazy satisfaction as he gestured toward the window with his chin, his tone casual: "Take your people and leave."
Hina clenched her fingertips but didn't argue further. Bending down, she picked up the crumpled Navy uniform from the ground with efficient movements. Surprisingly, she began putting it on right in front of Ryan.
As she buttoned the shirt one by one, it concealed the ambiguous red marks on her neck. When she pulled up her trousers, the muscle lines of her calves remained taut, though her movements still carried a barely noticeable stiffness.
Throughout the entire process, Hina didn't look at Ryan again, her profile rigid as iron, only the redness at the tips of her ears betraying her current discomfort.
Once fully dressed, she raised a hand to sweep her scattered pale pink hair behind her back, revealing her sharply defined neck. Though the wrinkles on her uniform hadn't been smoothed out, she had already regained the upright posture of a Navy Captain. She strode toward the door, her military boots making dull thuds against the floorboards. Each step seemed to accumulate strength, as if trying to trample this humiliating mark deep beneath her feet.
Just as she was about to step out of the room, Hina suddenly turned back, her gaze shooting toward Ryan like a blade: "Hina will remember this day of humiliation."
Her voice wasn't loud, but each word was clear, carrying a determination that pierced through the air: "One day, Hina will bring you to justice and wash away today's disgrace."
"I'll be waiting." Ryan was leaning against the window playing with his cigar. Upon hearing this, he merely shrugged indifferently, his eyes slowly roaming over Hina's figure, his tone carrying undisguised mockery: "Just make sure you're prepared to handle failure."
Hina's eyebrows shot up sharply, the veins at her temples faintly throbbing. Her eyes seemed about to spit fire, yet she gritted her teeth tightly, not allowing rage to overwhelm her reason.
This kind of condescension from the strong toward the weak was extremely irritating.
Watching Hina like this, the amusement in Ryan's eyes deepened.
To be honest, he quite liked this aspect of Hina - cold and proud like unyielding ice, rational to the point of rigidity. Yet when her sore spot was poked, the shame and resentment churning beneath that hard exterior created a strangely appealing contrast.
Especially how Hina trembled with anger all over yet stubbornly kept her back straight, refusing to show weakness. This feeling of controlling the other's emotions was particularly satisfying.
"I just love how much you despise me, yet can't do anything about me," Ryan added with a light laugh, the cigar between his fingers glowing and fading in the sunlight.
"You..." Hina clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white. She gave Ryan one deep look, pressing all her fury and humiliation deep into her eyes before turning to leave resolutely. The sound of her military boots echoing down the corridor grew increasingly distant, yet seemed to reverberate through the empty room with heavy weight.
Given the vast disparity in their current strength, any further argument would be futile. Proud as Hina was, she would never engage in pointless struggle. But the humiliation of this day had already been engraved in her heart.
This time, they had misjudged the opponent's strength, but failure was never the end. Hina would grow stronger—strong enough to tear apart the helplessness she felt today, strong enough to repay this humiliation twofold.
Arriving downstairs, Hina walked straight toward the Marines tied to the coconut tree, ignoring Mikita standing nearby.
"All of you, get up." Hina swiftly untied the soldiers' ropes, her voice hoarse from the recent intense battle yet carrying an undeniable authority. "Check your equipment and take a headcount."
The soldiers rose, rubbing their numb wrists, and gazed at Hina's straight-backed figure. No one dared mention their earlier disgrace. After organizing the troops, Hina finally looked up toward the third-floor balcony of the hotel, where Ryan leaned against the railing, a faint glow from his cigar at his fingertips.
"Form ranks. Move out." Hina's eyes lingered on him for two seconds, as if etching his image and the day's humiliation deep into her memory, before she turned away without hesitation.
Without another word, Hina led the soldiers forward, her pale pink hair lifting in the sea breeze. Their military boots crunched in unison on the sandy ground, her retreating back resolute, as if determined to leave everything behind.
Ryan watched the receding figures until they vanished at the road's end, a playful smile curling his lips.
That stubborn glint in her eyes just now was rather noteworthy. But that was all.
At her current strength, Hina posed no real threat. Letting her go? It didn't matter. The sea was vast yet small—they were bound to cross paths again.
When that time came... it might be more interesting.
Lifting his hand, Ryan extinguished the cigar, ashes scattering onto the balcony. He paid Hina no further mind, leaning over to call down to Mikita below, "We're heading to the port to find a ship. We set sail tomorrow."
"Understood." Mikita nodded promptly, hesitating briefly before asking softly, "Where are we going?"
"Rainbase." A flicker of amusement crossed Ryan's eyes.
Following this route, the next stop was Alabasta. Perfect—there was someone there he had a slight interest in. He'd drop by for a look, maybe stir up some fun.
At his words, the composure on Mikita's face faded slightly, especially upon hearing "Rainbase." Her shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly.
Rainbase was in Alabasta, and that land was the territory of Baroque Works.
The organization placed failed agents on its hit list. The logical move was to stay far away, not foolishly dive into the whirlpool, essentially walking into a trap.
"What? Scared?" Ryan noted Mikita's change in expression, a knowing smile playing on his lips, though his tone remained light. "Relax. They're just a bunch of clowns. Stick with me, and you'll be fine."
A mere Warlord—what was there to fear? When narrow paths crossed, the brave prevailed. Why avoid someone defeated by a rookie like the Straw Hat Kid?
Mikita's expression eased somewhat. Setting aside the oppressive aura of Ryan's hundred-meter-long dragon form, even someone like Captain Hina couldn't last a single move against him, and an entire Marine squad had been routed instantly.
Such unfathomable strength was indeed more reassuring than Baroque Works' bounty.
"Yes, I understand." Mikita took a deep breath, straightened her back, her tone now much firmer than before.