Chapter 33 — The Brewery Opens
After returning from Baiskaiborg Island, Eiger's days quickly settled back into calm, almost idyllic routine. The chaos and bloodshed of the Mafia incident faded into memory, replaced once again by the rhythm of ordinary island life.
The West Blue's black market still listed the Demon Child's bounty, but oddly enough, no one came sniffing around the Sibia River Archipelago again.
The whole "Taimé Mafia discovering Nico" incident seemed, in hindsight, like a bizarre stroke of pure chance — one man's accidental glance at her face. In a world where people were practically face-blind, that man had somehow recognized her.
"A genius," Eiger had thought wryly. "A dead genius."
He'd actually wanted to meet the guy, out of sheer curiosity. But before he could, Victor — ever the cautious fool — had silenced him permanently, tossing his body into the sea.
From there, the Taimé Mafia began quietly sniffing around the surrounding waters, trying to trace that fleeting lead — until one merchant crew stopped by Baiskaiborg, bringing gossip from the Sibia Islands. That was when Victor finally put the pieces together.
Such a coincidence. So absurd it almost felt staged.
At one point, Eiger had even suspected that some secret Marine admiral was moving pieces behind the scenes — but no. It was just an accident.
When he got home, he didn't bother explaining everything to Nico. He merely told her that some Mafia thugs had come looking for him, that he'd "dealt with it," and that there was nothing to worry about.
Seeing him return safely, Nico had simply smiled in quiet relief.
Still… something in her changed after that.
She didn't talk about it — didn't bring up the incident at all — but Eiger could feel it. Every night, when they lay together, she held him tighter than before. And in the mornings, her eyes lingered on him a little longer, as if she were memorizing every small detail of their quiet life.
That tension, that fragile tenderness — it spoke of fear. Of someone afraid this peace might vanish again.
If Eiger hadn't guessed the truth, he might've thought Nico was simply thinking about having a child.
But he had guessed.
She remembered.
He didn't know when she'd regained her memories — or why she hadn't left once she did. She never mentioned her past, and he never asked. He still called her "Nico," and she still called him "darling."
Life went on — simple, steady, and warm.
Eiger trained, ate, slept, and spent his evenings walking home beside her.
Until, one morning, after finishing his stretches, he felt it again — that familiar pressure inside his body. The sense that he'd hit another limit.
So he found a new way to push past it.
Mountain-splitting.
Yes, literal mountain-splitting.
Each morning, beneath the rising sun, Eiger would pick up his axe and swing at the mountainside like a man possessed.
The first few days, he barely managed to carve a shallow groove into the stone. But as time went on, those grooves deepened, connecting into cracks that stretched further and further — as though he were trying to cleave a path straight through the mountain itself.
He grinned at the thought. "That old Marine doghead could split eight mountains, right? Guess I'll start with that."
Fortunately, the Sibia Islands had no shortage of mountains to practice on.
Back in his Navy days, he'd once thought about strengthening his body by hammering on battleships — until he nearly got himself court-martialed for denting one of Enchi's prized vessels.
What could he say?
Ships were limited resources.
Mountains weren't.
Back in his Navy days, Eiger had once joked about using old ships for training — but the logistics made that impossible.
A Marine branch couldn't just "scrap" ships at will; every replacement required a full request, inspection, and authorization from Headquarters. Once approved, the old warships would be reclaimed by the main fleet for deconstruction or redistribution.
In short — not a single Marine vessel could be wasted, let alone used for someone's personal training.
And so, these days, Eiger settled for splitting mountains instead of ships.
That morning, he woke late as usual, stretching as the sunlight streamed through the window. He grabbed his single-bladed axe, planning to finish the mountain he'd been working on — today, he was certain he could cleave it in two.
But as he stepped toward the door, soaking in the warmth of dawn—
"Hold it right there, darling."
Nico's voice floated from behind him. Turning, Eiger saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, an apron wrapped neatly around her slender frame, smiling with that mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Sorry," she said sweetly, "but you won't be going out to train today~"
"Huh?"
"You forgot what Chief Marin said last night, didn't you?" she teased, blinking playfully.
At that, Eiger froze — then sighed. Right.
After months of sweat and effort, the brewery was finally complete. The villagers had built it with their own hands, and thanks to the Taimé Mafia's new "business connections," all the imported equipment had arrived just yesterday.
Marin had been buzzing with excitement ever since. The man hadn't stopped talking about it for days.
When Eiger and Nico came home the night before, the chief had all but ambushed them at the gate, insisting they discuss the "opening ceremony."
And now… that day had come.
The entire Sibia Archipelago was already stirring with excitement. The brewery wasn't just a factory — it was hope, livelihood, and pride, all poured into one monumental project.
As the primary investor and "chairman," Eiger was expected to attend the opening ceremony.
Personally, he thought it was unnecessary.
"Honestly, I don't see why I need to go," he groaned, rubbing his temple. "It's not like I actually did anything. The factory would've been fine without me."
"But you are the investor," Nico said with a laugh, her eyes soft but teasing. "Without you, this island wouldn't have a brewery or even a pier. Everyone's waiting for you, darling. Go on — get changed."
"Changed?" He looked down at his training clothes. "What's wrong with this?"
"Chief Marin specifically said you should dress 'formally.'" Her lips curved into a sly smile as she stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. "Besides… I'm changing too."
Her tone dropped, low and playful. "You really don't want to match me, darling?"
"Changing! Immediately!" Eiger straightened like a soldier before an admiral, voice solemn. "We can't disrespect the chief's wishes. Lead the way — what outfit are we going with? Two? Three?"
Nico giggled. "It's already prepared."
After a few minutes of fussing and adjusting, Eiger emerged wearing a sharp, tailored black suit. It fit a little too snugly, emphasizing the powerful lines of his frame.
"Feels… tight," he muttered, tugging at his collar.
Nico circled him slowly, tapping her chin with mock seriousness. "Darling, did you get bigger again?"
"Probably." He glanced at himself in the mirror, amused. "When did you even buy this?"
"I had it made," she said with a wink. "By Genny."
Then she held out her hand, eyes sparkling. "Shall we go?"
Eiger smiled, slipping his arm around hers. She looked stunning — the figure-hugging western dress he'd bought for her shimmered softly in the morning light, every step graceful yet confident.
"Alright," he said warmly. "Let's go."
---
For the Sibia River Archipelago, today was the day.
From dawn, the island had been alive with chatter and laughter. Colorful ribbons were hung along the roads, food stalls were being set up, and the air buzzed with the hum of anticipation.
Chief Marin, of course, had been awake since before sunrise — barking orders, running between workers, and adjusting decorations with the energy of a man half his age.
"Hey, Chief Marin! Is this how it's supposed to look?" one villager shouted.
"Yeah, yeah, that's right!" Marin waved an arm, squinting critically at the setup. "Genny said that's how they do it in the big cities — opening ceremonies, journalists, the works! We can't get reporters out here, so this will do for now. We'll invite them next time!"
He stepped back to admire the result, hands on his hips, chest puffed with pride. "Not bad. Oh, and remember — when the ceremony starts, you address me by title."
The villager blinked. "Uh… what title?"
Marin turned, dead serious. "Executive Chief Marin!"
"...Yes, Chief Marin."
"Watch that tone! You mess this up and make me look bad, I'll smack you!"
As the poor villager rolled his eyes, Marin turned again, scanning the crowd anxiously.
"Where the hell is Eiger? Don't tell me that bastard's off chopping mountains again—"
But before he could finish, he spotted movement down the road — a tall, broad-shouldered man in a crisp black suit, walking arm-in-arm with a beautiful woman in a flowing white skirt.
Marin's expression melted into a grin as he hurried forward.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up! You two lovebirds sure know how to make an entrance!"