The sea breeze, carrying a salty scent, brushed past the massive hull of victory.
This cruise ship was like a moving white palace, sailing quietly across the azure sea.
On both sides of the hull, several massive Gyarados cut through the waves, their azure crests particularly striking under the sunlight; they were the ship's most loyal and ferocious guardians, and any reckless pirates would be nothing more than an after-dinner snack to them.
The moment Ariel stepped onto the deck, the heavy sensation beneath his feet drew a clear line between this ship and the dilapidated wave chaser in his memory.
The deck of the wave chaser would creak and groan when stepped upon, but here, the polished teak floor was buffed to a shine that reflected the drifting clouds in the sky.
The air was filled with a faint scent of champagne mixed with expensive perfume, intertwining with the sea breeze to create a unique atmosphere belonging to high society.
He soon noticed the gazes projected onto him—scrutiny without any attempt at concealment, mixed with contempt and curiosity.
Ariel looked down at himself; he wore an utterly ordinary black Trainer uniform, designed for ease of movement, durable, and nothing more.
Meanwhile, the people around him—the men in well-tailored suits and the women in evening gowns adorned with jewels—everyone looked as if they were attending a never-ending banquet.
Among this crowd, Ariel truly looked like a crow that had wandered into a swan lake, conspicuous and jarring.
He didn't care at all and walked straight into the ship's buffet restaurant.
The luxury of the restaurant was staggering; a massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the entire space as bright as day, the light refracting off the mounds of food piled on silver platters below, reflecting an enticing luster.
Steamed Kingler were laid out on the tables, freshly opened Clamperl shimmered with a pearly glow, and there were rare fruits from distant regions; every dish was as exquisite as a piece of art.
Ariel turned a blind eye to it all.
He picked up a plate larger than his own face, holding it steadily with one arm while using tongs with the other, his movements efficient and decisive.
Golden-roasted chicken legs, steaks drizzled with rich sauce, and a large scoop of pasta covered in cream sauce; the plate was quickly piled into a small mountain.
He found a window seat, picked up his knife and fork, and began to eat as if no one else were there.
The whispers around him grew louder.
"Good heavens, how long has it been since he last ate?"
A woman in a long pink dress covered her mouth with a fan and whispered to her companion.
"Look at his clothes; he probably snuck onto the ship, hoping to make a quick buck."
The man beside her curled his lip in disdain and adjusted the diamond cufflinks on his collar.
These comments reached Ariel's ears clearly, but he didn't even bother to lift an eyelid.
To him, these people's evaluations were no different from the Growl of the seagulls outside the window—just meaningless background noise. Filling his stomach was the most pressing matter at hand.
Just then, a commotion broke out at the restaurant entrance, and the originally noisy environment instantly fell silent.
A middle-aged man wearing a pure white captain's uniform with gold-fringed epaulettes on his shoulders walked in.
He had a tall, upright posture and a resolute face, with a neatly trimmed beard on his chin, and every step he took was steady and powerful.
As soon as he appeared, he became the focus of the entire restaurant, and those wealthy socialites who had been so haughty before cast respectful looks toward him.
The captain—the soul and absolute ruler of a ship.
People speculated about which prominent figure the captain had come to toast, their eyes instinctively turning toward a few of the most distinguished guests.
However, to everyone's surprise,
The captain walked straight through the crowd without looking left or right, heading directly toward the young man in black who was buried in his food.
Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
Everyone's gaze converged on this small dining table, and they saw the captain, who held supreme authority on victory, bow slightly and say in an incredibly respectful tone to the "bumpkin" in their eyes:
"Sir, please come with me."
The entire restaurant was silent, leaving only the crisp sound of cutlery clinking against the plate.
Ariel slowly swallowed the last bite of steak, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then looked up, calmly glancing at the captain.
"Okay."
He stood up and followed the captain outside.
Behind them were countless eyes filled with beyond-belief shock.
Waves of astonishment crashed through people's minds as they frantically guessed the boy's identity.
To have the captain of victory personally come to invite him, he was definitely no ordinary person!
Passing through a long corridor, the two arrived at the captain's quarters.
The heavy wooden door closed behind them, cutting off all outside prying eyes.
The captain's quarters were tidy and majestic, with a massive nautical chart hanging on the wall and nautical instruments on the desk gleaming with the luster of brass under the lights.
Before Ariel could even look around, the captain in front of him suddenly turned and made a move that even surprised him.
With a thud,
This respected captain knelt cleanly on one knee before him, his head bowed low.
"Executive Sir, I am Cliff. I am responsible for victory. Long live Team Rockets!"
His voice was no longer the steady tone used in public, but carried a sense of suppressed fanaticism and absolute loyalty.
"Everything on this ship is at your command!"
Ariel's eyes narrowed slightly. Ariel's eyes narrowed slightly.
He knew his status was special, but Cliff's posture was still somewhat unexpected.
A person who could serve as captain on such a luxury cruise ship would be seen by the outside world as a Superior among Superiors, respected by all.
Yet at this moment, he was kneeling before him, his tone carrying a near-devout fanaticism.
"Stand up, Cliff."
Ariel's voice was very calm, without a hint of emotion, as if everything before him was within his expectations.
Since Ariana had specifically designated this cruise ship for him to board, it seemed everything had been handled by someone.
Otherwise, it would have been impossible for the captain to directly Lock-On to his identity.
Upon hearing this, Cliff slowly rose, but his back remained slightly bowed and his eyes respectfully lowered, never looking directly at Ariel.
He was like a statue on standby, waiting for his master's orders.
The captain of victory was also one of their own?
Ariel didn't ask directly but used a declarative tone that contained an imperceptible layer of inquiry.
He knew Team Rockets' infiltration was extensive, but to have such a prominent cruise ship under their control, this level of power was still striking.
"Reporting to Executive Sir,"
Cliff's voice was low and powerful.
"victory is one of the organization's important maritime transport hubs, responsible for transporting certain important materials and... individuals. I have been ordered to be here to ensure everything goes smoothly."
Important materials and individuals.
Ariel mulled over these words in his mind.
He knew his trip to Kanto was to accept the mission arranged by Ariana, and he himself undoubtedly belonged to the category of "important individuals."
"Very well."
Ariel nodded slightly, a flicker of imperceptible satisfaction flashing in his eyes.
Cliff's report was concise and clear, without any nonsense.
He walked to the window and looked down at the shimmering sea through the thick glass.
The cruise ship's speed was neither fast nor slow, and the Gyarados escort teams on both sides were still dutifully accompanying them, their massive bodies swimming in the water and kicking up bursts of white spray.
"Is this ship safe?"
Ariel asked suddenly, his tone somewhat casual, yet it made Cliff's heart tighten.
"Please rest assured, Executive Sir!"
Cliff immediately guaranteed,
"victory's route is secret, and there are hidden sentries placed by the organization all along the way. Furthermore, with the Gyarados escort teams present, ordinary pirates wouldn't dare approach. Even those factions with some background would have to think twice."
"Ordinary pirates..."
Ariel repeated these words, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint arc.
He thought of the pirates he had encountered before and Team Aqua, who were stirring in the great ocean.
Even if victory's defensive strength was formidable, Ariel wouldn't be surprised if they were suddenly attacked.
Driven by profit, there will be conflict anywhere.