"Hey, Yuan?"
Just then, a slightly aged voice called out, "You actually came here?"
"Old Buck?"
Yuan followed the voice and saw an old man with far more wrinkles and grayer hair than he remembered. A pipe was clamped in his mouth, from which he periodically puffed a thick cloud of smoke.
It was definitely Old Buck. He was wearing the same jacket Yuan remembered, with his favorite pistol hanging at his waist—if he recalled correctly, it was named Sixpence.
"Of course it's me! HAHA! Yuan, my boy, you haven't changed a bit. Still such a gentleman. Not at all like someone who came off *that* ship."
"Old Buck, it's great to see you again."
Yuan smiled faintly, not minding the mention of the ship. Besides, he had come here today specifically to see an old friend.
Old Buck looked thrilled, chattering away, "It's been so long, I thought you'd died in some ruin somewhere! If Black Jack hadn't come by a few days ago and told me,"
