Chapter 134: Nourishment Through Food

Although Momo Island was small, it was still fairly expansive, and its terrain was rather unusual, sloping upward from front to back.

The lower ground was the beach where Mord and the others had landed, the only place on the entire island where reaching shore was easy.

Heading inland from the beach, one would pass through a stretch of forest. Beyond it, the land gradually rose.

Farther on lay the highest ground on Momo Island.

There stood a valley enclosed by a semicircle of rocky mountains.

To describe it in Mord’s words, it was a gigantic ancient Roman arena built upon a mountainside, except that someone had smashed a huge gap into one side.

The islanders called the valley the Ring Valley, and it was also where they lived.

Though surrounded by mountains on most sides, the valley nurtured a flourishing grassland.

With abundant natural pasture, the people of Momo Island raised a great many sheep there to meet their daily needs.

To the islanders, sheep were an important source of livelihood. As a result, the clothes they wore were commonly embroidered with adorable sheep heads.

Momo Island had only a hundred households, yet the valley contained a great many buildings—enough to accommodate not merely a hundred households, but a thousand.

The structures possessed a distinctly Greek character. From their beams, pillars, and bricks to their decorative reliefs, everything was fashioned with an extraordinary precision.

Mord had also noticed several dilapidated, collapsed buildings. Though they might once have been homes, they looked more like ruins.

Their existence lent the entire Ring Valley an intangible air of mystery.

As a newcomer, Mord did not wander about casually, even with Gaban’s connection to the island—let alone go poking around those ruins.

“This place really is suitable for retirement.”

Momo Island was remote and free of worldly disputes. Even the newspaper gulls came only once a week.

After spending some time there, Mord had to admit that, just as Saul had said, it was indeed an excellent place to grow old.

Still, Mord preferred the chaotic disorder of Mad Hatter Town, where vicious-looking prey lurked everywhere—or rather, pirates.

By comparison, Momo Island was…

At first, Mord had been rather disappointed. Then, under Saul’s urging, he began performing high-intensity physical training every day.

Gradually, he stopped entertaining impractical thoughts and devoted himself to tempering his body, striving to master Moonwalk as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, without a sufficient physical foundation, learning Moonwalk was an exceedingly difficult task.

And without the shortcut provided by the Hunter’s Notes, even completing Saul’s training regimen every day yielded only limited gains in physical strength.

One need only look at Sabo, who had undergone the Revolutionary Army’s rigorous training since childhood, or at Luffy and Zoro, whose bodies had likewise been tempered from a young age.

Unless one was a natural-born monster, how could anyone possess a powerful physique without the passage of time?

Without a strong body, even if one understood the principles behind countless techniques, they could exist only as theories stored away in the mind.

That was the problem Mord now faced. He could not bring out the full effectiveness of the Hunter’s Notes and had no choice but to slowly temper his physical strength through time spent on the island.

Compared with that, the insights and techniques Saul taught him were far more valuable.

The sky was as blue as the sea that day.

Across the grassland, sheep wandered in groups of two or three. They looked strangely restless, racing about like overactive children.

With a massive boulder strapped to his back, Mord did push-ups on the grass.

Physical training had always been monotonous and tedious. No matter what method one used, the process ultimately came down to the same thing.

What mattered most was not the method, but perseverance.

Saul and Gaban sat on a smooth, rounded rock more than ten meters away.

Each held a pipe, leisurely smoking in the breeze that brushed across their faces.

That was all shepherding amounted to: find a place to sit, then remain there for most of the day.

Thus, to Gaban, sitting there and watching Mord painstakingly train his body was no different from tending a flock.

“You plan to retire here?”

Gaban tapped his pipe and glanced sideways at Saul, who appeared perfectly at ease, before turning his eyes away again.

“What? You don’t welcome me?”

Saul looked at Gaban’s gleaming bald head.

The man had once possessed the thickest hair on the crew, yet now he was completely bald. Most likely, age had left him no choice but to watch it all fall out.

And that little pair of sunglasses—did he truly intend to wear them for the rest of his life?

Saul indulged in these malicious thoughts inwardly.

Gaban once again glanced at Saul, whose mind was evidently overflowing with strange notions, and said pointedly, “You’re welcome to stay, but don’t expect to keep eating for free forever.”

“Bah! After all our years of friendship, I can’t believe you’d worry about something like that.”

“Can friendship fill your stomach?”

Gaban’s reply was as flat as it was merciless.

At that, Saul immediately tilted his head toward the blue sky and changed the subject. “I’m hungry. Why hasn’t Jaya come yet?”

“You old miser…”

Gaban shook his head.

Silence settled over the rock for several minutes.

Saul watched Mord in the distance and suddenly said, “Gaban, I brought them to Momo Island for more than simple retirement. You should be able to guess that.”

Gaban removed his pipe and said blandly, “Your skin has always been remarkably thick. Still, you’ve improved this time—you waited this long before bringing it up.”

Saul gave a sheepish laugh. “I won’t make you work for nothing, either. If you have any demands, name them. So long as I can do it, I won’t utter a word of protest.”

“…”

Gaban fell silent. After a moment, he sighed. “Even in my wildest dreams, I never imagined that an old miser like you would devote so much time and effort to someone else.”

As he spoke, Gaban glanced at Saul’s empty left leg.

On the night they reunited, Gaban had listened to Saul ramble for the entire evening about Mad Hatter Island and Mord.

Saul waved a hand. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Hmph.”

Gaban raised an eyebrow and said seriously, “You’re right. I really don’t understand why you won’t let the boy learn swordsmanship. That lad looks perfectly suited for it. At the very least, he could learn a couple of ax techniques from me. It would be better than learning how to use a gun, wouldn’t it?”

Hearing Gaban’s blunt words, several veins rose on Saul’s forehead.

If he did not need Gaban’s help, he would have started cursing him by now.

Be patient!

Saul’s lips twitched a few times. In the end, he could only put the mouthpiece between his teeth and take several drags to calm himself.

Seeing his reaction, amusement flickered in Gaban’s eyes behind his sunglasses.

Time had passed, yet many memories still felt as though they had happened only a few years before.

Thinking back, Saul had either been struck on the head by a door or had been inspired by the imposing sight of Roger, Rayleigh, and the others cutting down their enemies with swords. For some reason, he had suddenly announced that he wanted to learn swordsmanship.

From then on, he shamelessly pestered Roger, Rayleigh, and the others to teach him.

In the end, it was only after Roger dealt him several devastating blows that the matter was finally brought to a close.

Back then, the utterly dejected Saul had even gone on a hunger strike for half a month.

Looking back now, if Saul had truly set his heart on learning swordsmanship, who knew whether the ship would ever have gained such a dependable backup sniper?

A smile touched the corner of Gaban’s mouth. He lifted his pipe and took a sip, then suddenly sensed something and turned to look behind him.

“She’s here.”

“Oh, lunch has finally arrived.”

Saul also turned toward the rear. Jaya was approaching with a large pot raised in one hand.

Gaban spoke with deliberate emphasis. “I already gave Jaya her instructions this morning.”

“What instructions?”

“That pot doesn’t contain an ordinary lunch. It contains the ‘nutritional supplement’ you requested for the boy.”