The current in the downstream canal was even more turbulent, and the speed of the motorboat was much faster than when climbing upstream, almost cutting the travel time in half.
Without Alvin noticing, night had already fallen. Darkness enveloped the canal, and only the motorboat's headlights swayed across the raging water.
Just as the motorboat was about to rush out of the canal exit, Alvin's eyes suddenly widened, his face filled with surprise.
"This… it's actually snowing!" he blurted out.
Although it was winter, the climate in West Blue had still been as warm as spring when he left, with no trace of snow at all.
Yet after crossing a single Red Line, the scene before him had completely changed, as if he had stepped into an entirely different world.
"Does it feel strange?" Just as Alvin was deep in thought, a hoarse voice filled with the weight of years suddenly spoke from nearby.
Alvin quickly turned his head toward the source of the voice.
He had almost forgotten about this old man.
Crocus.
The former ship doctor of the Pirate King.
In order to search for the Rumbar Pirates, Crocus had boarded the ship of Gol D. Roger and served as the crew's doctor for three years.
However, Alvin did not see the island whale known as Laboon.
At this moment, Crocus had only just heard the roar of the motorboat's engine and stepped out of the lighthouse. He had not expected someone to reach the Grand Line safely in the middle of the night.
Alvin steered the motorboat close to the shore, then stored it in his storage space. He jumped lightly onto land and walked toward Crocus.
"It really does feel strange. Can you explain it to me?" Alvin said.
As he spoke, he took out a bottle of wine and tossed it to Crocus. Then he took another bottle for himself, preparing to celebrate the moment he entered the Grand Line.
Crocus casually caught the bottle. His eyes paused briefly on the label before he looked up at Alvin.
"Wine from West Blue. A spatial storage ability. You really are Red Hawk."
"Hey! You already took my wine, so hurry up and talk!" Alvin said, pretending to be angry while glaring at Crocus. At the same time, he secretly wondered whether this old man had a bounty on his head.
Crocus ignored the glare.
He moved a chair over, slowly sat down, and opened the bottle.
After taking a large gulp of wine, he looked out toward the endless sea before speaking slowly.
"This is the Grand Line, the sea with the most complex climate in the entire world.
The islands here are divided into four seasonal types: spring islands, summer islands, autumn islands, and winter islands. Each island maintains its own unique seasonal climate.
For example, the place where we are now belongs to winter. The next island you reach might be a scorching summer island, or it could be another season entirely.
This is a unique climatic phenomenon of the Grand Line.
Out at sea, the weather is extremely unstable.
When you begin to feel the climate becoming gradually stable, it usually means you are approaching the next island."
Alvin lowered his head and thought carefully. His brows furrowed deeply.
He opened his own bottle of wine, took a large drink, and continued.
"So in this sea, the key to navigation is understanding climate patterns?"
Crocus nodded slowly.
"That is basically correct. But even now, no one dares to claim they fully understand the climate of the Grand Line."
Alvin understood.
In the waters of the Grand Line, only the climate of the islands and the surrounding sea zones remained relatively stable. The vast open ocean between islands was chaotic and unpredictable.
Still, he was not worried.
As long as his own strength was powerful enough, these climate hazards would become the smallest threat he faced.
"Old man, I didn't expect you to be so easy to talk to. To thank you for answering my questions, I'll treat you to hot pot."
After saying that, Alvin took out a copper hot pot with a diameter of one meter from his storage space.
Then came hot pot seasoning, fresh slices of beef, crisp green vegetables, glowing charcoal, a windproof stove, and a bright lamp.
One item after another appeared in an orderly fashion.
"Hot pot? That name is quite fitting. Then I won't be polite."
Crocus looked at the abundant ingredients in front of him, especially the full plate of fresh beef slices. His eyes instantly brightened as he moved his chair closer.
Before long, the water in the copper pot began to boil, bubbles rolling continuously.
Alvin tossed various ingredients into the pot. As the broth bubbled and simmered, the aroma gradually spread through the cold air.
"Eat, eat. Eating hot pot in winter is the best," Alvin said as he poured large trays of sliced meat directly into the pot.
Cooking one slice at a time?
That was far too unsatisfying.
The two of them ate happily.
After they finished eating and drinking, Alvin chatted with Crocus for a long time.
Most of the conversation consisted of Alvin asking questions while Crocus patiently answered.
Alvin brought up one doubt after another, and Crocus used his long experience to explain them.
After all of his questions were answered, Alvin set up his tent and prepared for a good night's rest.
Crocus also returned to the lighthouse.
The next morning, Alvin was awakened by the thunderous roar of a whale.
Still half asleep, he crawled out of the tent.
At some point during the night the snowfall had stopped, leaving the surroundings covered in white.
He looked out toward the sea.
A massive whale was swimming along the coastline, gathering momentum as if preparing to ram the Red Line once again.
"Laboon! Are you starting again!" Crocus hurried out of the lighthouse and shouted loudly.
Boom!
Just as Crocus finished speaking, Laboon slammed into the Red Line with tremendous force, producing a dull yet earth shaking sound.
The scene truly opened Alvin's eyes.
This whale had unbelievable perseverance.
In his heart, Alvin silently cheered Laboon on.
Soon after, he packed the tent back into his storage space and walked toward the shore.
"Old man, I'm leaving. Thanks for answering my questions last night. As repayment, I won't kill you. Goodbye…"
Alvin said jokingly.
Then he released his motorboat and jumped onto it.
"You annoying brat! You are one hundred years too early if you think you can kill me!"
Crocus shouted angrily, his beard puffing as he glared.
"Hahahaha! Goodbye, old man!"
Alvin laughed loudly, twisted the throttle, and the motorboat shot forward across the sea like an arrow released from a bow.
"What a remarkable youngster. It has been a long time since I have met such an interesting young man…" Crocus murmured while watching the direction Alvin had disappeared.
Boom!
Another dull impact echoed across the sea, pulling Crocus's attention back to the whale.
After leaving Twin Capes and reaching the sea area Crocus had mentioned the night before, Alvin finally took out his Log Pose and fastened it onto his wrist.
Because he did not plan to follow the route toward Whisky Peak, he had asked Crocus to recommend another route and explain how to take alternative paths through the Grand Line.
Crocus had told him everything.
Alvin glanced at the Log Pose on his wrist.
Then he twisted the throttle.
The motorboat immediately shot forward in the direction indicated by the Log Pose.
The next island is.
Erguotou Mountain!
...
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