Chapter 49: The Younger Version of Chinjao
"Sister Toki, let's go into Kano Country." Roy stared across the port toward the distant town.
"Great. People here dress so differently from other places." Amatsuki Toki watched the few dockworkers moving cargo at dawn. The harbor was hushed in the early morning light.
"Yeah. It's… another world." Roy kept his eyes on the island.
It was said Kano Country owed its look to a land from his previous life. Roy had never been here; one glance would tell him how true that rumor was.
"Be careful. Pandora, stay with them," Redding rumbled, then pointed the little flame over.
"Got it!" Pandora answered, swooping to Roy's shoulder like a small, warm sun.
Roy and Toki climbed down from the giant ship, made shore, and headed toward town.
"Hey!"
Crack.
They had barely reached the outskirts when they spotted a broad-shouldered teen with a spectacularly pointed forehead. He wore a green cloth shirt and stood by the road, bending at the waist to drive that cone of a head straight into paving stones.
His forehead spike was several times longer than his face. He dipped, struck—stone fissured.
"Hey!"
Unsatisfied, the youth bent again and hammered another stone. A crisp split shot through the rock.
"What a head! As expected of the heir to the Eleventh Don of the Happo Navy!"
Passersby along the town's edge murmured in awe.
The big youth palmed his elongated brow and grinned, basking in praise.
"Amazing," Toki said, genuinely impressed.
The point-headed teen turned at once, clocked the two newcomers, and—with a flourish—drove his spike through yet another stone. Then he lifted his chin and gave them a proud, see-that? sort of look.
"Tch. Only so-so," Pandora said from Roy's shoulder, utterly unimpressed.
After witnessing Linlin's and Roy's absurd defenses, a living spearhead didn't move him much.
"Huh? You can talk?" The youth stared at Pandora, eyes wide. "A talking little sun?"
"I have a soul, why wouldn't I speak? Are you dense?" Pandora shot back, dripping disdain.
"Shigao-i!" The point-head turned his attention to Toki—skipping right over Roy because of his height—and beamed, "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Chinjao. I'm local. I can show you around!"
He was fascinated by the living flame, figured the woman must be the person to petition, and assumed—wrongly—that she was the child's mother.
Pandora clicked his tongue. He'd pegged the ending from the first sentence. Ignoring the little master would be noted—permanently.
"Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Harold Roy." Roy offered a hand to the human battering ram. Up close, he saw what the crowd meant; no wonder that forehead looked familiar—this was the future Don Chinjao of the Happo Navy, just younger.
"Ah, hello. Is this yours?" Chinjao nodded toward Pandora as he clasped Roy's hand.
Roy smiled politely—and tightened his grip.
Pandora perched on his shoulder, and this guy had skipped him like he was invisible—then asked a question that tone-deaf? The young Chinjao needed a little lesson.
"Hiss! Strong!" Chinjao blinked, then poured more strength into the shake.
One hand was attached to a youth about five meters tall; the other belonged to… well, a seven-year-old.
Big palm, little palm—pressure rose with every heartbeat.
Roy's small fingers were swallowed in a much larger hand, but he did not give an inch.
"Stop, stop, stop—I yield!" Chinjao felt something creak in his bones and bailed immediately.
He forgot Pandora entirely. Even after letting go, he stared at Roy, startled and intrigued.
Shaking out his stinging hand, he said, "You two came to Kano Country? I can show you around!"
"Okay." Roy eyed that conical brow. He wondered how it would fare against his fist.
Yes, his dream was a warm, sprawling family of beautiful wives.
That didn't mean he had no hunger for strength.
The stronger he grew, the less chance there'd be of tragedy—no stabbings, no helplessness, no enemies laying hands on those he loved. Responsibility wasn't just emotions; it was protection.
If he could befriend Chinjao, then spar with him to feel out Kano Country's Hasshoken… that would be perfect.
"By the way," Roy asked, "were you… training just now?"
"Training? Ahahaha!" Chinjao slapped his belly, laughing. "No, no—just waiting for my dad. Got bored, so I'm passing time."
"Useless," Pandora muttered.
"Why?" Chinjao frowned at the flame.
"Roy's defense is the strongest. Even if you coat that spike with Armament Haki, you won't pierce him." Pandora puffed with pride. Praising Roy was praising himself. Bliss.
"Armament Haki?" Chinjao rubbed his brow and blinked. "I haven't learned it yet. But we can still spar!"
That handshake told him everything—this kid wasn't ordinary.
So small, and yet he'd nearly crushed Chinjao's grip.
Curiosity flared. A proper match would be fun.
Chinjao had been born with a spike of a skull. His father said he was destined to be a future Don of the Happo Navy.
If Roy truly was born with the strongest defense…
Chinjao touched his cone. Which would triumph—his natural spearpoint or the boy's iron hide?
He could barely contain his excitement. At last, a worthy opponent.
"No Armament yet?" Roy asked, looking up.
"Nope. I'm only sixteen," Chinjao replied with a grin. "It said you have the strongest defense. But I'd say my head has the strongest offense. How about a little match?"
"Not bad. I'm seven this year. Invincible among my peers in the village. Sparring with you sounds just right—let's see if we match evenly." Roy smiled back.
"Hi ya-ho-ho, are we about to rattle the whole village? I'm looking forward to it." Chinjao laughed.
He had no idea the "village" Roy meant was Elbaf.
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