Chapter 77: The Big Boss of Sabaody

The title of "Chief Musician" brought Kyle no actual benefits whatsoever, except for being dragged away by Roger on a whim to serve as a "million-dollar tuner" for a bunch of tone-deaf drunks.

Half a month later, when an archipelago made up of countless giant red trees appeared on the horizon, the ruckus aboard the Oro Jackson finally came to a temporary halt.

Dreamlike bubbles floated through the air like soap suds, and sunlight filtered through the massive canopies, casting dappled shadows across the sea's surface.

The Sabaody Archipelago—the endpoint of the first half of the Grand Line, the gateway to the New World.

"Oh! We're finally here!" Roger stood at the bow, arms spread wide as if to embrace this peculiar island. "Boys, get ready to coat the ship! We're heading to Fish-Man Island!"

"Coating?" Buggy and Shanks asked in unison, their faces full of curiosity.

"That's right," Rayleigh said, leaning against the rail. "To reach Fish-Man Island, ten thousand meters beneath the sea, we need to wrap the hull in a special coating. Otherwise, the deep-sea pressure will crush the ship to pieces."

With the mission clear, the crew divided up the work.

Roger, naturally, became the hands-off captain, dragging Oden along while shouting about finding some fun on the island.

The task of finding a coating craftsman, something that required patience and brains, fell squarely on the shoulders of Vice Captain Rayleigh.

Rayleigh had no complaints. He straightened his collar and disembarked alone, heading toward the lawless zone.

However, the moment he left, three sneaky heads popped up from behind the rail.

"Hey, are we really gonna follow Mr. Rayleigh?" Shanks whispered, sounding pretty excited.

"Of course! The captain's just gonna go drink and brawl again—how boring!" Buggy said matter-of-factly. "If we follow Mr. Rayleigh, we might get to see legendary coating techniques!"

"Heh, I'm just a little worried about him going alone," Gaban said, hefting his axe and finding himself a noble excuse.

Kyle followed behind the three, arms crossed, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

And so, the group maintained a careful distance, like a bunch of amateur detectives, tailing Rayleigh through the bizarre and colorful streets of the Sabaody Archipelago.

Rayleigh seemed to sense the "tail" behind him, but he didn't call them out. His steps remained steady and unhurried.

Eventually, Rayleigh stopped in front of a bar that looked pretty classy. The sign bore a fancy script that read: "Shakky's Rip-off Bar."

"Rip-off?" Buggy's red nose wrinkled. "That name sounds expensive! What's Mr. Rayleigh doing going in there? Is the coating craftsman inside?"

Gaban stroked his chin, a glint of interest in his eyes. "Interesting place."

The group exchanged glances and, without a word, pushed the door open.

Inside, the lighting was dim, and the air carried a faint scent of tobacco and liquor—a stark contrast to the noise outside.

A fashionably dressed woman with a great figure leaned against the bar, a cigarette held lazily between her fingers, her posture elegant and relaxed.

When she saw Rayleigh, she didn't greet him with the usual enthusiasm of a bartender. She just lifted her eyelids slightly and blew out a smoke ring.

"Customer, just one?" Her voice had a raspy, magnetic quality.

Rayleigh walked straight to the bar and sat down, setting his sword beside him. "Whiskey, no ice."

The woman expertly grabbed a bottle and poured half a glass of amber liquid, sliding it in front of him. "Five million berries."

"Pfft—"

From the corner where they'd just found seats, Buggy nearly spat out his juice.

He clamped his hand over his mouth, his eyes bulging like saucers.

Five million?! This wasn't a rip-off—this was highway robbery!

Shanks clicked his tongue. That drink cost as much as a small pirate crew's entire fortune.

Yet Rayleigh didn't even bat an eye, as if he'd heard the most normal price in the world.

He pulled out his coin purse and tossed it casually onto the bar.

"I'm looking for a coating craftsman named Ray," Rayleigh said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Oh? Looking for him, huh." The woman—Shakky—flicked her cigarette ash, a playful curve forming at the corner of her lips. "You don't look like an ordinary pirate. You have a scent about you... dangerous, but free."

At her words, Rayleigh paused briefly, then looked up at her.

The woman before him appeared to be just a bar owner, but those all-knowing eyes stirred a long-forgotten spark of interest in him.

"Likewise," he replied. "Running a bar with prices like these, I imagine the proprietress isn't exactly ordinary either."

"Heh heh..." Shakky laughed lightly, her laughter crisp and pleasant. "I'm just a former pirate who's retired and wants to live a quiet life."

Their conversation seemed mundane on the surface, but undercurrents ran deep.

In the corner, the "four spectators" had completely forgotten why they came here in the first place.

"Wow..." Shanks's eyes sparkled. "That lady's amazing! She saw right through Mr. Rayleigh!"

"Hmph, I think she's a con artist! Trying to scam Mr. Rayleigh's money!" Buggy muttered under his breath, though his gaze kept drifting toward Shakky.

Gaban held his axe, wearing an inscrutable smile. "Looks like... our vice captain's lucky day is here."

"Lucky day?" Shanks and Buggy both turned to him.

"Kyle, what do you think?" Gaban turned to Kyle, who'd been silent the whole time.

Kyle: My lord, something's definitely fishy here!

Kyle closed his eyes, as if listening to something.

After a moment, he opened them, his expression odd. "Their 'wavelengths'... are in sync."

"Wavelengths?"

"Like two instruments. When played separately, each is already excellent, but when played together, they naturally resonate and create a more harmonious melody," Kyle explained.

Don't ask—just chalk it up to his Devil Fruit powers!

At his words, Gaban's smile deepened.

At the bar, Rayleigh and Shakky's conversation continued.

They didn't discuss coating. Instead, they went from interesting tales from the sea to the world's power structure, from the monsters of the New World to hidden history.

They were like old friends who'd known each other for years, able to pick up on each other's points with precision.

Rayleigh described the magnificent waves of his journeys, while Shakky shared intelligence she'd gathered from various pirates and her own keen insights.

One bold and unrestrained, the other wise and composed—yet both shared the same bone-deep obsession with "freedom."

"A man like you... if I'd met you a few years earlier, maybe I would've gone to sea with you," Shakky said suddenly, her eyes carrying a hint of nostalgia and teasing.

"It's not too late now," Rayleigh said, gazing at her, his eyes glimmering with sincerity. "My ship always welcomes beautiful women."

"Pfft—" In the corner, Buggy spat out his juice again.

Juice: Feed me peanuts!

"Mr. Rayleigh... actually said something like that!" Shanks was so shocked his jaw nearly hit the floor.

Rayleigh-san! Your character just broke!

Gaban was already calculating how much gift money he should give.

Kyle wore an "I knew it" expression and quietly activated a weak version of Reverb Echo, replaying Rayleigh's pickup line in Buggy's ear on a loop.

"That voice... is that Mr. Rayleigh?!" Buggy covered his ears, feeling his pure soul had taken a critical hit.

Just as the atmosphere in the bar was heating up, the door slammed open with a bang.

"Rayleigh—! What are you doing hiding in here drinking?!" Roger's booming voice instantly shattered all ambiguity and tranquility. "Come on, let's go! I found the coating craftsman! He was hiding in an amusement park!"

Behind Roger stood a helpless-looking Oden, along with several crewmates with black eyes and swollen faces, clearly fresh from a fight.

The softness vanished from Rayleigh's face, replaced instantly by a pained expression.

He stood up and gave Shakky an apologetic smile. "Looks like today's conversation has to end here."

"No problem," Shakky said, gracefully putting away the glass and money. "You're welcome to get 'ripped off' again anytime, dangerous sir."

Rayleigh looked at her deeply, then turned and followed Roger out.

The "four spectators" also scrambled to their feet and made themselves scarce.

Outside the bar, Shanks sidled up to Rayleigh, waggling his eyebrows. "Mr. Rayleigh, who was that lady just now?"

Rayleigh didn't answer. He just gazed at the bubbles floating above the Sabaody Archipelago, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile he himself hadn't even noticed.