Chapter 110: The Little Boat at Sea

Naturally, Garen would never allow Kentucky to take on the role of a mere fried chicken chef again, nor would he genuinely involve him in developing inhumane biological weapons.

To make full use of this scientist's talents, Garen assigned Kentucky a research task that caught him completely off guard:

The large-scale production of helium.

Kentucky, a specialist in biochemistry, found Garen’s amateurish attempt to direct an expert somewhat awkward. Yet, under the roof he lived, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and reluctantly accept this bewildering assignment.

His confusion stemmed from the fact that helium gas held almost no practical applications in this world. No one had ever seriously studied this unfamiliar gas before.

But Garen understood the enormous potential helium possessed:

Inflation—for airships.

As the saying goes, “To get rich, first build the roads.” Changes in transportation could reshape an entire generation’s way of life and subtly transform the world’s balance of power.

The natural geography of the Red Earth Continent and the Windless Zone created significant barriers, severely limiting maritime traffic. Naval researchers spent vast sums developing seastone warships, enabling elite naval forces to maneuver swiftly and safely through the perilous Windless Zone, connecting the Grand Line with the Four Seas.

Upon witnessing the severe constraints of sea travel, Garen’s first thought was:

Why not take to the skies?

In a world capable of building robots, there was no reason planes and airships couldn’t be made.

Compared to airplanes, airships were cheaper, simpler to manufacture, carried heavier loads, boasted longer endurance, and possessed maneuverability capable of crushing any existing naval vessel.

With airships in existence, neither the Windless Zone nor the Grand Line would pose obstacles. Pirates accustomed to raiding the seas would be forced to look to the sky in helpless despair.

Harboring this grand vision of ushering in an era of aerial navigation, Garen forcibly reassigned Kentucky, a biochemistry expert, to research the industrial production of helium.

Kentucky only had a vague understanding of the task, and with no proper laboratory equipment or materials aboard the ship, the research would have to wait until they reached Alabasta, a resource-rich nation.

Driven by the ambition to transform the Age of Exploration into the Age of Aviation, Garen urgently pressed his crew to sail at full speed toward their destination, Alabasta.

.........................................

Though they sailed at full steam, a massive sailing battleship could only muster so much speed.

Seven days passed, and Garen still saw nothing but the endless ocean.

Navigating the Grand Line was far more fascinating than the East Sea; the strange climate zones of the islands created nearby waters with breezes, scorching sun, frost, fog, and blizzards—an ever-changing kaleidoscope of weather.

In just seven days, Garen experienced the four seasons—spring, summer, autumn, and winter—witnessing firsthand the wonders of the Grand Line.

Yet, no matter how marvelous, even the most extraordinary things grow dull with familiarity.

Thanks to Vivi’s permanent compass pointing to Alabasta, Garen’s crew did not stop at any islands along the way, sailing unceasingly across the vast sea.

This made the long voyage even more monotonous.

On this day, the fearless battleship Saber had just broken free from a blizzard and sailed into a summer sea.

The sun blazed down mercilessly, quickly melting the thick layers of snow on the ship into pools of icy water.

Seizing the opportunity, the spirited Nami set up a beach chair and umbrella on the deck and called Vivi over to change into their swimsuits, lounging leisurely to bask in the sunshine.

Although Garen had reservations about Nami’s carefree nature, he did not stop the two beautiful young women from enjoying themselves aboard his ship.

After all, this had become one of the few ways to pass the time in recent days.

Garen thoughtfully sat beside Nami and Vivi, chatting with them while admiring the beautiful scenery around.

But their conversation did not last long before the topic inevitably became heavy.

“Do you think we can win this time?” asked Princess Vivi.

Ever since Garen revealed that Baroque Works’ true mastermind was none other than the Warlord Crocodile, Vivi had been plagued by lingering doubts about her plan to save her country.

Moreover, the fact that Garen and Nami—her hard-won friends—had been drawn into grave danger made her feel even more guilty.

Garen saw the conflict and hesitation etched in Vivi’s furrowed brows and smiled confidently.

He understood what truly troubled her and comforted her directly:

“Vivi, you don’t need to worry about Nami’s or my safety.”

“I’m very strong.”

Though simple, these words somehow gave Vivi a genuine sense of reassurance.

Nami chimed in with a gentle smile:

“Don’t overthink it, Vivi.”

“What’s so scary about the Warlords?”

Though she was worried herself, Nami never showed it to Vivi.

By comforting Vivi, she was also bolstering her own courage:

“When I first met Garen, he couldn’t even beat a small-time pirate wielding a steel blade; he was dirt poor, often dining without paying.”

“But in just over three months, look at him now...”

Nami gestured proudly at the broad deck and the imposing cannons around them.

“He’s now the captain of a massive battleship, the undisputed ‘Overlord of the East Sea’!”

Vivi nodded softly; she had witnessed Garen’s meteoric rise from solitude to becoming the East Sea’s dominant force.

Hearing Nami’s heartfelt praise, Garen smiled politely and joked:

“Don’t call me the ‘Overlord of the East Sea’ anymore!”

“That title belongs to that unlucky guy Kurek—it’s bad luck.”

Garen had never claimed the title himself. Besides his guiding principle of peaceful rise without dominance, he felt deep sympathy for its former holder.

The previous “Overlord of the East Sea,” Admiral Kurek, had terrible luck—he was simply sitting at home when fate cruelly struck, and Garen had taken his head. The armaments and ships Kurek painstakingly amassed over the years all fell into Garen’s hands.

The battleship Saber that Garen now commanded was, in fact, Kurek’s former flagship.

“Ship ahead!”

Garen’s nostalgic thoughts about the ill-fated Kurek were abruptly interrupted by the lookout’s warning from afar.

The sudden alarm shattered the pleasant atmosphere among Garen and the two beautiful girls, and the captain’s opinion of the lookout, who seemed oblivious to reading the leader’s mood, took a hit.

“What’s the panic about?”

Garen, slightly annoyed, vented his frustration but responsibly stood up and went to the bow, peering through his monocular to scrutinize the sea.

A ship soon came into view.

A small, oddly shaped vessel.

Garen immediately understood the lookout’s agitation:

An unidentified ship was always a symbol of danger.

What kind of ship was the most perilous?

A small one, especially a single-person boat.

Anyone daring enough to cross the vast ocean alone in such a vessel was never to be taken lightly.

And if the person was foolish enough to ride a bicycle or swim alone across the sea, one would be wise to avoid them altogether.

Garen focused his monocular on the small ship.

It was a tiny single-mast sailboat with a peculiar design:

Boxy, resembling a coffin, with several green-flamed candles flickering along the gunwale.

“What kind of taste is this? Looks like a funeral parlor!” Garen muttered in disbelief.

He fixed his gaze on the ship’s occupant.

Though the front view was unclear, he saw a tall, slender figure sitting at the edge, rowing with a large black blade.

This made sense:

Small boats, especially simple single-masted ones, sailed at frustratingly slow speeds.

To gain speed, one had to constantly adjust the sail to the wind, which was exhausting.

Thus, nine out of ten warriors who sailed such modest craft resorted to rowing with brute force to hasten their pace.

Garen himself once rowed his small boat with a great sword, accelerating it to speeds comparable to a diesel speedboat at full effort.

But this swordsman before him was even more formidable—he was slicing through the sea with his great blade at terrifying speeds, like a mountain racer on a downhill run.

“Impressive!” Garen couldn’t help but admire.

No sooner had he spoken than the figure suddenly turned his head.

Garen immediately met a pair of sharp, hawk-like eyes.