The First Day of Missing Roronoa Zoro

Seeing that Simon had contributed no negative emotion points at all, Duen was slightly disappointed, but he could more or less tell that the man was fairly easygoing.

He suddenly missed Roronoa Zoro. If Roronoa Zoro had been here, he probably could have gained quite a few negative emotion points again...

Following Simon all the way, Duen arrived at a brightly decorated, luxurious room.

In the center stood a comfortable, soft double bed. Against the right wall was a long, wide desk, while the left side held a wardrobe large enough for thirty or forty outfits. Near the door was even a separate bathroom. The room was fully furnished.

"Normally, there aren't many restrictions aboard the ship. Just don't enter the guests' rooms. If you need anything else, feel free to find me. As long as it's within my ability, I'll do my best to help you."

After Simon finished speaking to Duen, he left to attend to other matters.

Duen looked around, and his gaze finally settled on the calendar hanging on the wall—Sea Circle Calendar, spring of 1516.

This was the eighteenth year since the Pirate King Gol D. Roger's death. Those so-called plot events would not officially begin for at least another four years.

"So it really is still a peaceful time..."

Duen murmured silently as he sat on the bed. For some reason, memories from long ago suddenly surfaced in his mind. The moment he thought of that short-haired girl his own age, he hurriedly slapped his face, growing restless and irritated.

Before long, he could no longer sit still. He walked out of the room, turned back to memorize the room number, then headed toward the inner hall.

Gentle, soothing music drifted through the hall. Men in crisp suits and women in alluring evening gowns greeted one another familiarly whenever they passed. Even if they did not know each other, that did not stop them from striking up conversations—this was a party.

Duen stood beside the stairway to the second floor, his left hand propping up his cheek as he leaned against the railing and looked down below.

The cruise ship's inner hall was about the size of a basketball court. Hundreds of people laughed and danced, and the place was filled with both the romantic fantasies of Western aristocracy and the lavish decadence of high society.

"Sir."

A voice sounded beside Duen. A waiter in a bow tie and black vest stood at his side.

"Mm..." Duen turned around.

The waiter offered him a glass of red wine from his tray. "A beautiful lady ordered this wine for you."

Duen asked carelessly, "How beautiful?"

"Uh..."

The waiter was immediately stumped. Seeing that Duen had no intention of taking the wine, he did not know what to do for a moment and could only point in one direction. "That beautiful lady."

A woman in a purple evening gown walked gracefully toward them. Her fairly delicate face bore light makeup, just enough to conceal the faint crow's feet at the corners of her eyes and make her true age difficult to discern.

"Sir."

Holding a glass of red wine, she approached Duen and leaned forward slightly in a suggestive manner. Her eyes carried a hint of seduction. "I ordered this wine. Would you do me the honor of having a drink with me?"

As she spoke, she watched Duen's apparently flustered and helpless expression, smugness rising in her heart. Even those seasoned, composed naval officers could not resist her charm, let alone this seemingly green little chick. What fresh, delicious flesh...

Her gaze drifted slowly down from Duen's chest, as though she could already see him losing himself in desire for her.

Duen hesitated before saying, "Auntie, we're not a match."

"A-Auntie..."

It was as though a bolt of lightning had struck her from behind. The woman stood frozen in place with lifeless eyes, her mind filled with nothing but the word "Auntie."

"Negative emotion points from Gina +111..."

"Eh!" Duen suddenly felt as though a window had been opened in his heart.

Then, in the timid yet sincere tone of an innocent young man, he said, "You don't look like you're even fifty yet, right?"

"Fifty..."

Gina's mouth fell slightly open as she felt her world beginning to collapse.

"Negative emotion points from Gina +1..."

Duen covered his mouth with one hand and whispered as though sharing a secret, "My grandma is fifty this year too."

"Grandma..."

Gina seemed to see a flood rushing toward her, sweeping her stunned self straight into its torrents. Unable to swim, she struggled desperately, only to find several silver-haired, wrinkled old women caught in the flood alongside her, smiling at her and saying, "Gina, congratulations on joining the ranks of fifty-year-olds..."

"Negative emotion points from Gina +1..."

Having harvested a wave of emotion points, Duen ignored this woman who was clearly having an entire drama in her head and quickly followed the flow of the crowd elsewhere.

By the time Gina came back to her senses, Duen was nowhere to be seen.

The cruise ship had around five decks. After leaving the largest inner hall, Duen wandered around the other floors.

A fencing room, an archery range, a restaurant, a small casino, a sauna—it had nearly every form of entertainment. Though small, it was fully equipped.

Upon reaching the fifth floor, he found a staircase leading to the top deck. Duen climbed it.

The fierce sea wind instantly rushed into his ears. Looking around, he saw not a single person, only a flag representing the Goa Kingdom fluttering in the wind.

Duen looked down and roughly calculated that this place stood more than twenty meters above the lowest bow deck. The sailors below busied themselves across the deck like ants. Looking up again toward the distance, he saw nothing but blue.

The waves pushed one another onward, endlessly rising and falling. At times, roaring waves crashed against the reefs and burst like shattered jade; at other times, the sea was calm, draped across the surface like silk.

Duen took a deep breath, drew the broad blade from his back, and began practicing his swings.

Swinging a sword did not actually do much for Duen. He was only doing it to familiarize himself with the feel of this broad blade.

He had spent seventeen years proving that he was a swordsman without talent. If he wanted to continue down the path of swordsmanship, he would need to rely on the improvements brought by the system.

However, rapid gains in strength and a flood of swordsmanship insights left him feeling at a loss. In other words, he lacked experience.

When fighting powerful opponents, how to attack, how to defend, how to evade—these were experiences the system could not give him.

Many swordsmen only gradually developed an attack style suited to themselves after accumulating combat experience. Once that style took shape, it became sword techniques, and further insights would allow them to take another step forward on the path of swordsmanship.

Roronoa Zoro was a living example of this.

But Duen was the exact opposite. He possessed strength, yet his methods of attack were like a blank sheet of paper. Still, that was not a bad thing. He could instead choose one or several disciplines from all the paths of swordsmanship that suited him.

That was the advantage brought by the system.

The broad blade swung down, stopped, rose, then swung down again...

The cycle repeated. Before he knew it, the sky gradually faded from bright to dim.

After completing two thousand swings, Duen was drenched in sweat. He sheathed the broad blade on his back, adjusted his breathing slightly, and left the deck.