The sky was still dark as hurried footsteps echoed across the cobblestone road toward the harbor. Arthur walked at the front, silent, his face tense in the flickering lantern light. Behind him, eight elderly men dressed entirely in black followed in quiet steps. Though their hair had grayed and their backs had begun to hunch, there was a sharp, cold aura clinging to them—as if they had never truly aged where it mattered most.
From a distance, the faint sound of clashing weapons and revolver fire still echoed. Arthur clenched his teeth. He knew—his ship, his friends, his family—had been attacked. But tonight, he wasn't here to fight. Not anymore. That time had passed.
When they arrived at the Grand Fortuna, the scene left an imprint in silence. The deck was soaked in blood. The corpses of the attackers were piled to one side. Ravi stood with torn and bloodied clothes. Bastien sat beside one of the bodies, his revolver still warm in his grip. Nara and Juno were stationed at the edges of the ship, their eyes still wild with adrenaline.
"Arthur?" Bastien called out, quickly turning, ready to issue a command.
But Arthur raised a hand.
"No need," he said softly. "They didn't come to fight."
Surprise swept across the crew's faces. The old men behind Arthur made no move to attack. They stood still, like gravestones. One step back from battle—and two steps forward into the truth.
Arthur climbed aboard. His eyes swept across the wounds and exhaustion etched into the faces of his companions. Then he stood among them, letting the silence speak for a moment before finally opening his mouth.
"I owe you all an explanation," Bastien said.
The old men shifted, and one of them—named Enzo—stepped forward. With a deep voice that flowed like water from an old well, he began to explain.
"Our Young Master's full name," he said, "is Arthur Lucien Morenzo. Son of Celia Morenzo and the late Don Michael Morenzo, the last head of the Morenzo Family—one of the oldest and most feared mafia dynasties in the West Blue."
Ravi narrowed his eyes. Juno raised a brow. Nara gripped her scabbard a little tighter.
"For years," Enzo continued, "his mother was the cruelest Consigliere we ever had. She controlled weapons, struck down our enemies one by one, all in secret. All to protect Arthur, to keep the Morenzo bloodline alive."
Arthur lowered his head.
"My mother died trying to walk away from that world. But me… I'm tired of running," he said. "I don't want to be a mafia boss. But I also can't let the past destroy the people I care about now."
Bastien slowly stood up, his gaze intense, but not angry—just understanding, slowly blooming.
"Last night's attack," Enzo continued, "wasn't a warning. It was an execution. An old rival family, long-time enemies of the Morenzos, want the Young Master's head as a symbol of their return."
"The Forelli Family," Enzo said. "They think this world still belongs to them."
Silence hung thick in the air. The sea breeze carried the scent of blood drying on the wood. Bastien holstered his revolver and walked toward Arthur.
"And now?" he asked. "What do you want from us?"
Arthur looked Bastien in the eye. "I want you to know. I won't force you to stand with me. But I won't lie to you either. If you choose to stay by my side, you'll be making enemies of people whose shadows don't even exist in history books."
Ravi gave a short laugh, though his breathing was still heavy.
"You think we came to sea for fun and games?" he said.
Juno leaned on a water barrel. "Too late to back down. Too many bullets already fired."
Nara said nothing, only nodded.
Bastien patted Arthur on the shoulder. "Then we're not just a crew anymore. We're family. And no one gets to touch our future."
The old men behind Arthur, who had once been mere shadows, now bowed deeply to Bastien and his crew. Enzo spoke one last time.
"We failed to protect the Young Master from afar," he said quietly. "But now, we won't let that happen again. We… are wholly devoted to this ship."
The night grew deeper. And on the deck of the Grand Fortuna, it wasn't just blood that flowed—but affirmation: an old legacy couldn't be erased, but it could be chosen. And Arthur, at last, chose to face it without fear.