Chapter 72

Over there, Leoza and Caesar had stopped their brotherly brawl. At this moment, the two were standing across the ruins of a table. Leoza was panting heavily, his golden eyes wide open like a wronged puppy. Caesar ignored him, picking up a crystal glass from the ground and casually grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the intact wine rack nearby. He poured some into the glass. Seeing this, Leoza muttered and kicked the remnants of the table, fishing out another crystal glass from underneath. He held it up to Caesar and said righteously, “I want some too!”

The captain raised an eyelid to glance at him. “Kids can’t drink alcohol.”

Leoza snorted disdainfully, snatching the obviously expensive, high-proof whiskey from his half-brother’s hand. Without a second thought, he poured himself a generous half-glass.

Both glasses were now in their respective hands, but neither drank.

Instead, they resumed their battle with their eyes.

Miguel felt a headache coming on, completely clueless about what these two were up to now. He looked down at the box in his hands—the interior was deep, and the dim light in the captain’s cabin made it hard to see what was inside. However, holding it, he could faintly sense there was something liquid within. Since Caesar had always disliked others touching his things, and adhering to the principle of living high but acting low, the navigator silently closed the box again.

To ensure the loose lid wouldn’t slip off, he even pressed it down with his hand.

On the other side of the captain’s cabin, Caesar flicked his wrist, and the whiskey in his glass splashed directly onto Leoza’s face—

“Get off my ship, and don’t let me see you again,” the man said without any extra expression, though a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He drawled lazily, “Oops, my hand slipped—why didn’t you dodge?”

Leoza snorted. The strong alcohol burned the wounds from their earlier fight, the pain searing on his face. The pale yellow liquor dripped down from his red hair. He wiped his face with one hand and raised the other, pouring the remaining half-glass of whiskey onto Caesar’s face—

“Here’s yours,” the young man said with a hint of triumph in his eyes, as if he had gained some advantage by splashing more. “Why didn’t you dodge?”

Caesar casually tossed his glass aside, righted the overturned armchair, and sat down like a lord. “Get off my ship, midget. Don’t make me repeat myself—your Hornet is next door.”

Once seated, Leoza, who was still standing, could finally look down on him. The red-haired youth was clearly pleased with this angle. He gave Caesar a disdainful glance and sneered, “Fine. Give me Miguel, give me the wooden box, and I’ll never step foot on your Wind Fury again.”

“Who are you yelling at? Who are you threatening? Even if I gave it to you, you couldn’t open it.”

The man scoffed, clearly dismissive. His rough thumb slowly stroked his stubbled chin as he crossed his legs, sitting like an emperor on his armchair amidst the surrounding chaos. Yet, he was as composed as if he were sitting on a pile of gold. His amber eyes shifted, finally landing on the navigator standing statue-like in the distance, holding something.

That look made Miguel feel like something big was about to happen.

“Awake, huh?” The man crooked a finger, calling him over like a pet. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Miguel scurried over.

Then, like a little eunuch, he placed the wooden box in Caesar’s hand. The sunlight streaming in from behind cast a beam on the man’s hand, allowing the black-haired youth to see clearly that this was the same wooden box Zhizhi had retrieved from the water yesterday. His scalp tingled. He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately closed it, deciding to act as if he knew nothing and nothing had happened.

He silently watched as Caesar tried various angles to open the lid of the wooden box. If it weren’t for the veins on the man’s hand bulging from the effort, he might have thought Big Dog was just messing with him. After several failed attempts, Caesar gave up with a cold smile and generously handed the box to the brash, eager Leoza.

The red-haired youth snatched the box and tried every possible way to open it—rolling around on the floor with it like a child.

“It won’t open,” the man said, propping his chin on one hand, his voice low and magnetic. “Don’t waste your energy.”

Leoza paused, then huffed and sat back down on the carpet, clutching the box like a treasure. His pretty face puffed up in frustration. “I don’t care. I’m not letting that woman put this box back where it came from after we finally got it.”

Caesar didn’t respond, but judging from his expression, this time the brothers were surprisingly in agreement.

However, only the little eunuch Miguel could see this. Leoza, of course, didn’t catch on. The red-haired youth raised an eyebrow, seemingly waiting for his brother to voice his opinion.

Caesar clicked his tongue impatiently and waved a hand. “What are you looking at? Of course. Did you think I spent five thousand three hundred gold coins to bring that woman on board just because my little slave suddenly wanted a pet?”

Miguel: “Wasn’t it?”

Caesar: “Of course not.”

Miguel: “…”

The navigator decided not to tell Caesar that he could open the box, letting the man stew over it for the rest of his life.

“If you want a pet, you can pick a monkey at the next port’s black market… the money will be deducted from your salary. You can use the spot where Bikini used to sleep for it,” the man finished slowly.

The navigator’s mood brightened instantly.

The two of them exchanged words harmoniously, leaving Leoza fuming. Because Caesar had indirectly and directly answered his two questions—

About the box and Miguel.

The box? You can’t open it, so taking it is useless. As for the person? He’s mine. Want to take him? Forget it.

What made his blood boil even more was that Miguel grabbed the man’s hand.

Both Leoza and Caesar raised their eyebrows.

Normally, Miguel would have been thrown out the window by the captain to perform a free-fall onto the deck. But glancing at Leoza’s expression, which looked like he’d swallowed something wrong, Caesar was satisfied and didn’t pull away.

Miguel thought for a moment and realized the gesture might be a bit off. So he let go of the man’s hand, patted his shoulder with a smile, and said leisurely, “Big dog, have you heard this saying? In this world, there are no coincidences.”

“Nope.”

“What about this one… all encounters in the world are reunions after long separations.”

“Are you out of your mind?” The man said, utterly unmoved. “I just realized you’re terrible at sweet talk. Shut up, don’t embarrass me in front of others.”

“…I just wanted to say that me picking you up and you bringing me on board—it’s all fate.”

Fate? That was the last thing the Black Sea Wolf believed in. With a cold smile, the man’s face showed no emotion as he met the gaze of those black pearl-like eyes shining in the dim candlelight. He said indifferently, “You’re trying to persuade me with the thing I least believe in.”

“What if I do persuade you?”

The man fell silent. On the large armchair, he shifted to a more comfortable position. One long leg rested arrogantly on the armrest, his body leaning slightly. He reached out a long arm, accurately pinching the black-haired youth’s chin. With a slight pull, he dragged the person toward him until they were very, very close—

So close that their noses almost touched, a cool sensation, their breaths mingling.

Miguel’s eyes, usually so calm, met the man’s amber eyes filled with mockery. He blinked, his lashes trembling slightly, but the certainty in his gaze was undeniable.

“What if I do persuade you?”

He asked again.

As he spoke, his warm breath brushed against the man’s cheek, causing a faint itch.

The man laughed.

He released Miguel’s chin, but his gaze never left the other’s face. A handsome smile spread across his features, and he let out a low chuckle that added to his aura of dominance and arrogance.

Caesar reached out, lazily ruffling the black-haired youth’s hair.

“Then I’m yours.”

“Huh?”

“Persuade me, and I’m yours.”

“…”

Miguel’s heart skipped a beat.

Then all the blood rushed from his feet to the top of his head.

Miguel silently pushed the man away, covering his nose as he squatted to the side, taking three minutes to compose himself.

Three minutes later, he stood up, wiped his face, and took the wooden box from Leoza’s hands. He placed it carefully in front of the man. Then, with one finger, Miguel pushed open the lid.

In the captain’s cabin, it was so quiet that only the faint sound of breathing could be heard. The lid of the wooden box fell onto the table with a soft thud.

Under the sunlight, a small splash of water rose from the box, droplets landing on the back of Miguel’s hand.

The sunlight streaming in from the window behind them illuminated the scene clearly this time. Everyone could see that inside the century-old wooden box was a pool of clear water, and within it, a tiny, transparent fish, no longer than a pinky finger, was swimming happily.

Caesar: “…”

Leoza: “…”

Miguel smiled. “You’re mine.”

That saying was so true—all encounters in the world are reunions after long separations.

Miguel decided, starting today, he believed in God again.