I collect everything in the One Piece world.

After leaving behind more than a dozen corpses and many more wounded and wailing companions, the last few nimble pirates finally stumbled back to their ship, frantically cut the mooring ropes, raised the tattered sails, and fled without looking back in the direction far away from Sabaody Archipelago at an astonishing speed.

"Stop chasing! Come back!" Lyle shouted, clutching his chest and panting heavily.

His face was pale, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Although the gun barrel had blocked most of the force of Hawke's knife, the internal injuries from the shock and the soreness in his arm were still quite severe.

Most of the other sailors were also exhausted and bleeding from their wounds.

Don't pursue a desperate enemy, especially one who's cornered. It's not worth risking more lives for these remnants.

The deck gradually quieted down, leaving only heavy breathing, the groans of the wounded, and the sound of waves crashing against the ship's side.

The air was thick with the smell of blood, gunpowder, and a strange, lingering odor of rotten fish and spiciness.

With his companion's help, Lyle walked up to Morsen. Looking at Morsen's blood-stained yet unusually calm face, Lyle opened his mouth, a thousand words stuck in his throat, and finally turned into a heavy but sincere thank you.

"...Thank goodness for you, Brother Morsen. Otherwise this time..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but the lingering fear and gratitude in his eyes were palpable.

If it weren't for Mosen on board, the "Bang Bang Orange" would probably have already become the pirates' prey, and everyone on board would have been sunk to the bottom of the sea.

The other surviving sailors also gathered around, and their gazes toward Morsen completely changed.

The curiosity and slight aloofness I felt towards this "weirdo" have now been replaced by the relief of surviving the ordeal and by heartfelt admiration and gratitude.

Many people felt a burning embarrassment when they recalled how they had privately mocked Mo Sen's quirk of collecting "junk" just a few days ago.

That wasn't a quirk at all; it was clearly a hidden skill, the key that saved all of their lives!

Mo Sen felt a little uncomfortable being stared at so many people and waved his hand: "It's good that I survived. I owe it all to everyone. I definitely couldn't have done it on my own against so many people."

He was telling the truth. Without Captain Lyle and the sailors' desperate resistance in front to draw attention, and without them restraining Hawke, he would have had no chance to observe and prepare. So this was a victory for the team.

After a short rest, the group silently began to clean up the horrific battlefield, collect the remains of their comrades, and provide basic first aid to the wounded.

Mosen didn't participate in any of this; his gaze fell thoughtfully on Scar Hawke's pale corpse.

“Captain Lyle,” he suddenly spoke up, “this guy has a bounty on his head, doesn’t he?”

Lyle, who was directing the sailors to clean up the bloodstains, nodded upon hearing this: "Yes, the Navy will issue bounties for any pirates with a bit of fame through the newspapers. Anyone who captures or kills them can take the warrant to the Navy base or a specific location to exchange for the bounty."

He glanced at Hawke's corpse and added, "Scarface Hawke, with a bounty of twelve million Berries, was a not-so-small menace at sea."

Mosen's eyes lit up slightly: "Can I handle this corpse? I'm thinking of Chambord; maybe I can sell it for some money."

He frankly expressed his predicament: "I came here with nothing, and I need some money to survive..."

"And..." he smiled somewhat sheepishly, "If I see something interesting, I'd like to buy it and collect it."

Lyle answered without hesitation: "Of course! This is your spoils of war, and it's only right that you decide what to do with it."

Looking at Mo Sen's handsome face and clear eyes, he felt even more moved.

This young man, despite possessing such unique and powerful abilities and having killed a pirate with a bounty of millions, still remained humble and polite.

Such innate kindness and upbringing are so rare, and so...worrying, on the cruel sea.

The Sabaody Archipelago...that's not a place for politeness and kindness.

Thinking of this, Lyle's worries deepened.

He watched silently as Mosen directed two sailors to wrap Hawke's body in a canvas and move it to a cool, well-ventilated place. A complex emotion flashed in his eyes, which eventually turned into a kind of determination.

……

As night fell, the smell of blood was greatly reduced by the sea breeze.

To dispel the fear of the daytime, to celebrate their survival, and to bid farewell to Maurice, who was about to disembark at Chambord, Captain Lyle ordered the best wines and food stored up for a simple yet lively banquet on the deck.

The campfire was lit, dispelling the chill of the night, and the alcohol quickly relaxed the tense nerves, making the atmosphere lively.

Having gone through life and death together, the crew members and Mosen's relationship had grown much closer, and the way they addressed each other changed from "Mr. Mosen" to the more affectionate and respectful "Brother Mosen" or "Mr. Collector".

"Hey, Mosen, tell me the truth, why do you like collecting those things so much?" an old sailor, his face flushed from drinking, asked boldly, a question that had been on many people's minds as well.

"Potato chips, stones, bread, what's so great about collecting these things?"

Mosen took a sip of the slightly spicy rum, pondered for a moment, and looked at the leaping flames as if he had traveled through time.

"I can't really explain it clearly..."

"Simply put, I feel that some things or unique states are beautiful, and it would be a pity if they just disappeared..."

Chapter 4, Parting Gift

He remembered the thick folder in the rented room of his previous life.

Inside were a single, brightest maple leaf from late autumn, a strangely shaped pebble found by chance, a bag of potato chips with every flavor imaginable, and a snapshot taken at dusk of the city skyline bathed in golden-red hues.

Perhaps it was because of this hobby that the few cherries in my pocket that I had intended to eat as dessert when I was sent here by that strange lightning bolt became what is known as "collectible fruit".

Although his collection wasn't valuable, it carried fragments of his own poetry in his otherwise monotonous life.

"So, I guess... it's about wanting to preserve the feeling of those beautiful moments," Mo Sen concluded thoughtfully.

The crew listened quietly, their faces showing thoughtful expressions.

Although they are rough and straightforward and may not fully understand such delicate sentiments, the simple thought of "not wanting beautiful things to disappear" has touched them to some extent.

Having spent years adrift at sea, they have witnessed countless fleetingly beautiful sunsets, the calm surface of the sea after a raging storm, and people who briefly reunite before going their separate ways...

"Capturing the moment" is perhaps a deep-seated desire in the hearts of every sailor, one that they themselves were unaware of.

After a moment of silence, the sailor who had helped Mosen carry the body that afternoon also nervously rummaged in his pocket and pulled out something strung together with hemp rope.

There were more than a dozen different styles and sizes of wine bottle corks, some of which were worn, while others looked quite new, all bearing the colors of different wine stains.

"Um... Brother Mosen, we wanted to prepare a gift for you, but we don't know what to get you."

"I see you like collecting special things... These are corks I kept from different ports and different fine wines, all... all from fine wines!"

His face flushed red, and he shoved the cork into Morsen's hand: "Here, this is for you! Thank you for saving everyone!"

Mosen was stunned, looking at the unassuming string of bottle stoppers in his hand, and felt the sailors' simple and sincere intentions.

"Thank you... I like it very much, I really like it." He said solemnly, "It's very special, and it's definitely worth keeping."

Once that was done, the other crew members stopped being hesitant.

Someone presented a uniquely patterned seashell found on a small island; another brought out a colorful glass bead that they had treasured for many years, supposedly brought from the South China Sea.

Another simple-minded guy scratched his head and handed over a sealed tin can, saying apologetically, "I heard you like things with unusual flavors?"

"This is a fermented fish sauce, a specialty of my hometown. It's been aged for five years, and it's said... well, the flavor is very 'deep'. You might want to collect its 'flavor'?"

Clearly, the power of that bucket of rotten fish that afternoon had left too deep an impression on him, leading him to believe that Mosen had some unique fetish for foul smells.

Mosen was somewhat amused and exasperated, but he solemnly accepted the canister of "biological weapon" and said that he would "carefully study and collect it."

Each of these gifts, whether valuable or unusual, carries a heavy weight of gratitude and blessings. This in itself is the most precious "state" and is well worth treasuring!

Captain Lyle sat in the corner, watching everything with a smile, slowly sipping his wine, and rarely saying a word.

The banquet lasted until late at night. Most of the sailors returned to their cabins to rest, tipsy, and the deck returned to tranquility, with only the sound of the waves remaining.

“Mosen,” Lyle called to Morsen, who was about to leave, his expression turning serious, “come to my captain’s cabin.”

Seeing this, Mosen assumed that Captain Lyle also had some special "collection" to give him.

He remembered that the sailors had been whispering about it before, saying that the captain seemed to have a lot of picture books full of local customs and scenery.

With this in mind, he followed Lyle into the captain's cabin, a mixture of curiosity and mischief in his eyes.

"Captain, do you have some 'treasure' you want to give me in private? Don't worry, I'm tight-lipped, and I'm an adult now," Mosen joked, winking.

Hearing Morsen's words, Lyle almost lost the serious atmosphere he had just built up. He could only glare at Morsen helplessly and cough a few times: "What good baby? What do you mean by adulthood?"

He then went to the table, took out two clean glasses, and poured them water; they had both drunk quite a bit that night.

“I called you here not to show you any ‘treasures’,” Lyle said, sitting down and looking at Morsen with a complicated expression. “I just wanted to teach you something.”

Upon hearing this, Mo Sen stopped joking and sat up straight, saying, "Teach me?"

“Hmm.” Lyle nodded, gazing at the dark sea outside the porthole, and said slowly, “Mosen, you’re a good boy. Kind, brave, and kind to everyone… that’s rare at sea.”

He paused, his tone turning somber: "But that's precisely why I'm even more worried."

"The Sabaody Archipelago, and the depths of this ocean, cannot be reached by kindness alone and a little bit of special ability."

"There are wolves who eat people without spitting out the bones, nobles who treat human life as worthless, and scum who will sell anything for profit... With your personality, you are likely to suffer losses and even encounter fatal danger."

Mosen listened in silence. He knew that what Lyle said was true. Before transmigrating, he only felt excited when reading the comics, but when he was actually in the world, especially after experiencing the bloody battle that afternoon, he deeply understood the law of the jungle in this world.

“I don’t want to persuade you to change anything,” Lyle turned his head and looked at him intently. “A good person shouldn’t be forced to become bad.”

"Since you are destined to go to a wider and more dangerous sea, the best way I can think of is to make you stronger and give you more ways to save your life."

After saying that, he stood up, walked to the wall, and took down a long, sheathed sword that had been hanging there. The sheath was simple and undecorated.

“When I was young, I also ventured into the East China Sea and learned some swordsmanship. Later, I injured my arm and could no longer wield the sword like before, but the moves, power techniques, and combat experience are still in my mind.”

He gently placed the knife, still in its sheath, on the table.

Then, he took out a small notebook wrapped carefully in oilcloth from the bottom of the drawer. It looked quite old.

“About five years ago, I rescued an old navy man who was on the verge of death at sea… He was badly injured and didn’t make it. Before he died, he gave me this as a thank you gift.”

Lyle carefully opened the notebook, which contained some hastily drawn but clear diagrams and annotations.

He said it was a technique called "Shave" from the Six Styles of the Navy, which allows for explosive high-speed movement in an instant. Unfortunately, I'm too old and my physical condition can't keep up, so I've never been able to master it.

He pushed the notebook, along with the knife, in front of Morsen: "My swordsmanship, and the training method for this 'Shave' technique. I'll teach you everything I know."

"Your physical abilities are extraordinary, so you'll definitely learn faster than me. I hope that these things... can help you someday in the future, even if it's just giving you a glimmer of hope."

The captain's cabin fell silent, with only the gentle flickering of the oil lamp's light.

Mosen looked at the simple longsword on the table and the thin booklet containing extraordinary techniques, and his throat felt tight.

These are not merely combat skills; they represent the deepest and most sincere care and farewell from an experienced navigator to this stranger in a foreign land.

“Captain Lyle…” Morsen stood up and bowed deeply and solemnly. “Thank you. This gift is more precious than any treasure. I will definitely study hard.”

Lyle patted him on the shoulder, a relieved and slightly gratified smile on his face: "Don't mention it. We'll start first thing tomorrow morning."

"Make the most of your time and learn as much as you can. Once you get to Chambord... you'll have to rely on yourself."