His wife did not utter a word, yet her silence spoke louder than any shout. Lufi spent the night staring at the map, the ink seemingly shifting under his gaze, revealing hidden topography and coordinates that defied modern navigation. The map was inscribed with The Bones Island a name that chilled the marrow but promised riches that could buy entire kingdoms. By dawn, the decision was etched into his soul, a finality that overrode the comforts of his villa. He packed a single bag, his old red vest folded at the bottom, smelling of ozone and old victories. The farewell was a whisper in the morning mist, a promise to return that he wasn't entirely sure he could keep.
His first stop was the old shipyard, a place where broken vessels went to die under the scorching sun. There, buried under layers of canvas and rusted chains, sat the Thousand Sunny, her lion-head figurehead chipped but still defiant. He touched the wood, and for a moment, he could hear the laughter of a crew that had been scattered by time and tide. He wasn't just building a ship; he was resurrecting a dream that the world thought had been buried in the history books. The local shipwrights watched from a distance, recognizing the silhouette of the man who had once turned the world upside down. "He's going back", they murmured, the word spreading through the port like a wildfire in a dry forest. Lufi didn't care about the whispers; he only cared about the horizon. He needed a navigator, a swordsman, and a doctor, but more than that, he needed the brothers and sisters who had shared his blood on the deck of this very ship.