Valthior didn't bother arguing further with Professor Clover over such "ridiculous" remarks.
A mere mortal's complaints weren't worth dwelling on.
Instead, he smoothly steered the conversation back to the study of those so-called forbidden knowledge.
—
Some time later, after jotting down a few key notes and working through a fragment of ancient script on his own, Valthior spoke as if it were an afterthought:
"By the way… did you manage to find any Poneglyphs this time?"
"Do you think those things are easy to find?" Clover replied calmly.
Valthior clicked his tongue.
"Come on, put in some effort. If you can't find Poneglyphs, how do you even sleep at night?"
"If it weren't for people like you constantly interfering, I might've made progress already," Clover shot back. Then he added, "Also… given your status, are you really in a position to say that?"
Valthior ignored that entirely, tapping a strange symbol in his notebook.
"How do you read this character?"
Clover leaned in for a glance.
"'De.' I haven't fully deciphered its meaning yet, but in modern pronunciation, that's how it's read."
He didn't hide anything—teaching openly, without reservation.
Truth be told, Clover actually supported Valthior's desire to learn ancient script.
Otherwise, he never would have agreed to teach him in the first place.
To Clover, history was something that had to be passed on.
As for who carried that torch… it didn't really matter.
Celestial Dragon or commoner—another person who understood these truths meant one more chance for history's voice to survive.
—
"De... Laugh..."
Valthior murmured as he followed the text in the notebook.
Then suddenly—
He stopped.
A flicker of surprise flashed in his crimson eyes as he looked up sharply at Clover.
Clover, however, remained completely unfazed.
"'Laugh Tale.'" he said naturally. "Those four characters—I only managed to decipher them recently. Sounds like a name, but what exactly it refers to… I'm still not sure. Maybe with more references in the future, I'll understand its meaning."
He didn't know.
But Valthior did.
About a year ago—around 1483—a major event shook the seas.
The Roger Pirates, at the height of their fame, reached the so-called final island of the Grand Line—Lodestar Island.
The news caused quite a stir. To most people, it was an unparalleled achievement.
But in truth?
Very few knew the reality.
Lodestar Island… wasn't the end.
Only after arriving there did the Roger Pirates realize—
There was still one more island.
A mysterious island no one had ever documented.
Even the Log Pose couldn't point toward it.
By now, if nothing had gone wrong, the Roger Pirates should already be searching for a way to reach that final destination.
And in the near future—
They would succeed.
Guided by the four Road Poneglyphs, they would finally arrive at that hidden island.
And it would be then…
That they would give it a name.
"Laugh Tale."
—
Valthior had always assumed that name was something Roger came up with on the spot.
But now—
He had encountered it in ancient text beforehand.
How could that not shock him?
Why did Roger name it Laugh Tale?
What did those words truly mean?
And more importantly—
Why did fragments of that name already exist in ancient records?
Suddenly, Valthior recalled a scene etched into his memory—
During the Ohara Incident, just as Clover was about to reveal the name of the Great Kingdom…
The Five Elders had ordered him executed on the spot.
"…Laugh Tale," Valthior muttered under his breath.
What if—
Just what if—
The so-called Great Kingdom of legend…
Had once been known by that very name?
—
Because of his transmigration, Valthior possessed something like a god's-eye view of this world.
There were few secrets he didn't at least partially understand.
And among them, one stood above all—
The Void Century.
A hundred years erased from history.
A truth buried deeper than anything else.
And one that fascinated him endlessly.
That, too, was one of the reasons he had gladly accepted Saturn's "training" back then—
To capture Professor Clover.
And to learn the ancient language from him.
As far as Valthior knew, the strange cycle of capture → release → capture again surrounding Professor Clover wasn't random at all.
The one orchestrating it from behind the scenes—
Was his own ancestor, from who-knew-how-many generations back:
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn.
Which, honestly, said a lot.
Because that old man was definitely not the type to sit still and play by the rules. Who knew what kind of schemes he was quietly plotting in the dark?
After all—
He had a record.
Valthior knew at least one incident from nearly two hundred years ago.
Back then, a colossal mechanical giant had attacked Mary Geoise. Orders had come down from above to destroy it completely.
But Saturn?
He secretly preserved it.
And later…
Things went out of control.
The Haki released by that machine had nearly scared Imu half to death.
From that perspective, Imu killing off the old man in the original timeline was perfectly justified.
—
"What are you spacing out for?" Clover's voice snapped him back. "Focus. You've already memorized most of the methods and materials for deciphering ancient texts. This is the final portion. Once you learn this, you'll be able to handle translations on your own."
He paused, then added with a faint sigh:
"With the resources you Celestial Dragons have… you might even surpass me one day. Honestly, the thought is a little enviable."
Valthior let out a quiet breath.
Those thoughts about the Great Kingdom—
In the end, they were just speculation. Without proof, they meant nothing.
So he pushed them aside.
As Clover said, thanks to the Sharingan, he had already reached the level of an independent scholar in ancient script.
Realizing that, Valthior looked at the Professor and said:
"This will probably be the last time I'm assigned to capture you. I don't think I'll be taking on this kind of 'training' again."
Hearing this, Professor Clover froze for a moment, then said with a hint of regret, "That's a shame. Being captured by you has actually been quite comfortable…"
"If you keep going like this, sooner or later, you'll bring disaster upon yourself—and the people around you," Valthior warned.
Clover looked at him with a complicated expression but ultimately just nodded without saying more.
Valthior had said all he intended to say and didn't bring it up again.
—
A few days later, the fleet arrived at the Holy Land—Mary Geoise.
After stepping onto the Red Line, Valthior parted ways with Clover. From there, CP agents would handle the interrogation as usual.
But judging by past experience?
It wouldn't be long before the man was released back into the sea once again.
As for what came next—
Valthior had little interest.
He had already said what needed to be said.
—
Mary Geoise.
The center of the world.
The pinnacle of culture, economy, and power.
There was a reason it was called the Holy Land.
At least on the surface, it was everything one could imagine—
Prosperous. Radiant. Filled with the elite of the world.
And as a member of the Celestial Dragon class, Valthior was, of course, intimately familiar with it. After all, he had lived here for over a decade.
The moment he stepped forward, Valthior spotted the group that had clearly been waiting for him for quite some time.
Several retainers of the Jaygarcia family stood there respectfully, heads slightly bowed.
And among them—
Was a figure that stood completely out of place.
Valthior paid the attendants little mind. Instead, his gaze fell on that towering, broad-shouldered boy wearing a slave collar, dressed in plain, almost rough clothing. The boy's face carried an eager smile, his eyes filled with barely contained excitement as he looked at him.
A faint smile appeared on Valthior's lips in return.
The boy's build was already massive, but his face still held a childlike softness.
He was one of Valthior's three slaves in Mary Geoise—
Bartholomew Kuma.
Nine years old.
As for the other two—
They were his parents.
Kuma carried the blood of the Buccaneer race, a lineage that the World Government had long ago labeled as a "criminal race." Simply being born into it was considered a sin—punishable by execution or enslavement upon discovery.
A few years back, Kuma's heritage had been exposed.
And just like that, his entire family had been dragged to Mary Geoise and reduced to slaves.
Such things were painfully ordinary in the Holy Land.
No one cared about their lives.
No one cared where they ended up.
—
Valthior himself had never had much interest in slaves. In fact, that disinterest had earned him no shortage of gossip among other Celestial Dragons.
So when he learned that Kuma's family had been brought to Mary Geoise…
He simply claimed them.
All three of them.
Marked them as his personal property.
A casual decision, really.
But beneath that—
There were other reasons.
Partly for the future.
Partly out of a faint sense of pity for the tragic fate that awaited this boy.
Because of that, Valthior treated the family far better than any slave had the right to expect.
They were still slaves in name.
But in reality?
Their lives were nothing like the others.
They were fed well. Clothed properly. Never starved.
Kuma himself didn't need to perform any hard labor. On the surface, he was being trained as a future "combat slave," following Valthior's orders. In practice, he spent his days within Valthior's residence, focusing on building strength and mastering the basics.
As for his parents, they handled simple tasks—chopping wood, boiling water, and the like.
The Buccaneer race was special to begin with.
Carrying traces of giant blood, they possessed immense physical strength, their bodies naturally larger and more powerful than ordinary humans.
In the original story, Kuma had grown strong despite starvation and hardship.
But now?
Well-fed. Properly trained.
He was already far stronger than Valthior remembered.
—
"Master! You're back!"
Kuma was the first to step forward, his voice filled with excitement as he greeted him.