Cutty Flam wished he could remain asleep forever, never waking up. Or perhaps, he hoped this was all just a nightmare—one that would vanish when he opened his eyes.
Cutty Flam had no parents, not even friends.
Abandoned by his parents as a burden, he was left in the scrapyard of Water 7 as a child. It was Tom, the Fish-Man, who took him in. Due to his eccentric nature, he had no friends growing up, and his only companion was a frog. His greatest joy each day was teaching this mute frog how to swim freestyle, a distraction from his loneliness.
Even his peer at Tom's Workshop, Iceburg, thought his behavior was odd, even foolish. But Tom was different—Tom accepted everything about him with patience and understanding.
Even in his final moments, Tom had been the same.
Gin's single punch had knocked Cutty Flam unconscious for an entire day. During that time, he remained in Tom's Workshop under the care of Kokoro.
When Flam finally woke up, it was already the second day after Tom's death. Iceburg had been staying at the workshop during this time as well, but under the same roof, he had not spoken a single word to Flam.
Iceburg acted as if Flam didn't exist, as if there had never been such a young man in the workshop.
Cutty Flam knew why. Iceburg resented him deeply. If not for the warships he had built, perhaps Tom would still be alive. Flam felt the same way. He had never wished so desperately that he had never set foot in this workshop.
"Kokoro, I'm sorry."
That morning, Flam, who had been sitting in a daze, suddenly spoke to Kokoro as she changed the bandages on his head.
Kokoro gave him a faint smile. Her hands trembled slightly as she wrapped the bandages, but her expression remained calm. "None of this is your fault, Flam."
After finishing the bandages, Kokoro left. She was the driver of the Sea Train, and her duties awaited.
Flam sat motionless by the window for a long time, staring blankly. Then, as if coming to a decision, he stood up, grabbed a large sledgehammer from the workshop's storage, and walked to the shore.
The thirty or so warships involved in the judicial ship attack had already been confiscated by the World Government, but many of Flam's other creations—unfinished or discarded prototypes—still lay abandoned along the shore.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
One swing after another, Flam smashed his creations like an unrelenting machine. Tears streamed down his face as he destroyed the projects he had spent countless days and nights building, piece by painstaking piece.
On a nearby stretch of coastline, Gin and Iceburg stood side by side. They glanced briefly in the direction of the noise before turning their gazes back to the distant sea.
"Cutty Flam is grieving too. He never wanted things to turn out this way," Gin said, noticing the undisguised resentment on Iceburg's face.
"I've told him many times before," Iceburg said stiffly. "Those dangerous weapons of his were bound to bring trouble sooner or later. If it weren't for his inventions being used by the World Government, Tom wouldn't have died!"
Gin shook his head. "I don't know why that guy Spandam targeted you, but if the World Government was determined to convict you no matter what, do you think they wouldn't have found another excuse? Even without Flam and his warships, they would've come up with something else. After all, where do you think the charge of building a ship for the Pirate King came from?"
Iceburg looked at Gin in surprise. "Aren't you a Marine? I didn't expect you to say something like that."
"I'm just stating the facts," Gin replied.
Iceburg glanced again toward the source of the noise. His expression was complicated, but the resentment on his face had softened.
"Do you know why Tom ended up in such a situation, at the mercy of the World Government?" Gin asked in a low voice. "Because he was just a shipwright. Even as the world's greatest shipwright, he was nothing more than a tool in the face of true power."
"You're trying to persuade me to go to the East Blue, aren't you?" Iceburg asked.
"No," Gin shook his head. "I heard about Tom's hopes for you from Kokoro. This is just advice from a friend. If you truly want to save this city and avoid repeating Tom's fate, you can't just be a simple shipwright."
Iceburg remained silent.
Gin continued, "Because of the judicial ship attack, many innocent people in the city have suffered. They'll likely take their anger out on you. If you go into the city now, no matter how skilled you are, you won't get any good opportunities—let alone change or save this city."
"If you trust me, wait a little longer. When the expedition team from my homeland, the Navia Kingdom, arrives here, they'll bring you valuable funding and manpower. Then, when you enter the city, you can establish your own company," Gin suggested.
Iceburg pressed his lips together. "Why are you helping me like this, Gin?"
"Someone once told me that in this unpredictable era, the least valuable thing is people, but the most precious thing is also people. If you see someone with valuable talent, don't hesitate to invest in them. It's not me helping you—it's the person who said those words," Gin said with a faint smile. His normally dark and fierce face softened noticeably. "When you and Tom and Flam were building the Sea Train, someone recognized your talent. And he's not the kind of person who mistreats talent. Believe me, if you had invented the Sea Train in the Navia Kingdom instead of Water 7, you wouldn't be treated like this today."
"You mean that governor you're always talking about?" Iceburg exhaled deeply. "Morgan William. I'd really like to meet him in person."
"You'll get the chance," Gin replied.
Iceburg gazed quietly at the horizon, seemingly lost in thought about the future. After a moment, he said, "Before the expedition team from your homeland arrives, I'll still go into the city. But it's only to survey the market and environment for the new company. A shipwright needs to inspect a ship before repairing it, to find out what's wrong and fix it properly. I need to figure out the root problems of this city first."
In the distance, the sounds of destruction had stopped at some point.
...
Tear-streaked and weary, Cutty Flam carried a cannon barrel he had dismantled from a ship. He boarded a small boat and set sail, heading toward the Sea Train.
Behind him, a giant frog named Yokozuna, whom he had spent years teaching how to swim freestyle, followed closely, chasing the boat.
That morning, Flam had learned from Kokoro that because of the judicial ship's destruction, the judge and his entourage, along with Spandam—who had never ridden the Sea Train before—would be leaving on today's train.
Flam regretted it all. He regretted not listening to Iceburg, regretted building those warships. He had once believed that ships were like a shipwright's children, each one imbued with life and soul by its creator.
But now, that belief wavered. If ships truly had life and soul, how could the World Government control his "children" to harm the person he respected most? How could the Sea Train willingly carry a group of murderers across the sea?
Cutty Flam was determined to make the Sea Train do what it should—send those who killed Tom to the bottom of the ocean.
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