John wick in one piece

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The sea was calm again, but the tension from the earlier encounter still lingered on the sloop. Michael sat near the wheel, meticulously cleaning his revolver while Lia swept the deck, tidying up the aftermath of the skirmish. Though the pirates had been driven off, the encounter was a stark reminder of how dangerous the seas could be.

Lia broke the silence first. "Do you think they'll come back?"

Michael didn't look up from his revolver. "Not that crew. They know better now. But others will."

Lia frowned, leaning on the broom. "It's never going to stop, is it?"

"No," Michael said, reassembling the revolver with practiced ease. "That's the nature of this world. If you want to sail these seas, you'll have to be ready for anything."

Lia was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'll be ready. One day."

Michael looked at her, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're getting there. But it's not just about fighting. Survival means thinking ahead, being prepared for anything. That's what we'll focus on next."

Lia straightened, her expression thoughtful. "What do you mean?"

"Navigation, resource management, knowing when to fight and when to run," Michael said. "The more we know, the better our chances."

He stood, taking the broom from her hands and gesturing toward the map spread out on a crate nearby. "Let's start with navigation. Show me where we are."

Lia moved to the map, tracing a line with her finger. "We're here, near this cluster of islands."

"Good," Michael said. "And where's the nearest safe harbor?"

She hesitated, scanning the map. "Here, I think," she said, pointing to a small island with a crescent-shaped bay.

Michael nodded. "Right. That's our next stop. When we get there, you're going to handle resupplying."

Lia blinked, surprised. "Me? But… I've never done that before."

"Then it's time to learn," Michael said. "You'll need to know how to barter, manage resources, and deal with people. It's just as important as fighting."

Lia nodded slowly, her determination growing. "Okay. I'll do it."

By the time they reached the island, the sun was high in the sky, casting warm light over the crescent-shaped harbor. The town was small but bustling, with fishing boats lining the docks and merchants calling out their wares in the market. Michael secured the sloop, then handed Lia a small pouch of berries.

"Start with the basics," he said. "Food, water, and any tools we might need. Ask questions, but keep your guard up."

"What about you?" Lia asked, clutching the pouch.

"I'll be nearby," Michael said. "Just watching."

Lia nodded, taking a deep breath before stepping off the sloop. Michael watched her go, his gaze steady but protective. He trusted her to handle herself, but he wasn't taking any chances. This was as much a test for him as it was for her.

Lia moved through the market with cautious confidence, stopping at various stalls and speaking with the merchants. She haggled for bags of rice, crates of dried fish, and a barrel of fresh water, keeping a careful count of the berries she spent. Michael watched from a distance, staying close enough to intervene if needed but far enough to let her handle things on her own.

As she finished loading the supplies onto a small cart, a commotion near the edge of the market drew Michael's attention. A group of rough-looking men was arguing with a merchant, their voices rising. One of them grabbed the merchant's collar, pulling him forward.

Michael tensed, ready to step in, but Lia surprised him. She moved quickly, placing herself between the men and the merchant.

"Leave him alone," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the obvious tension.

The men turned to her, their expressions a mix of amusement and annoyance. "And who's going to make us?"

Michael took a step forward, but Lia didn't back down. "He's just doing his job. If you've got a problem, take it up with someone else."

The leader of the group sneered, leaning closer. "You've got guts, kid. But guts won't get you far."

Lia didn't flinch. She held her ground, her gaze unwavering. The man hesitated, clearly unsure how to respond to her calm defiance. Before he could escalate, Michael stepped into view, his presence radiating quiet authority.

"Is there a problem here?" Michael asked, his tone casual but firm.

The leader glanced at Michael, then at the revolver holstered at his side. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "No problem. We were just leaving."

The group backed off, muttering under their breath as they disappeared into the crowd. The merchant let out a shaky breath, nodding gratefully at Lia.

"Thank you," he said. "I don't know what I would've done if—"

"It's okay," Lia said quickly, her cheeks flushing. "Just be careful."

Michael placed a hand on her shoulder as they walked back to the sloop. "You handled that well."

Lia looked up at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Really," Michael said. "But next time, wait for me before stepping into something like that. Confidence is good, but knowing when to ask for help is just as important."

Lia nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I'll remember that."

As they loaded the supplies onto the sloop, Michael couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Lia was growing stronger, not just in skill but in spirit. She had the potential to become someone who could hold her own in this dangerous world.

As they set sail once more, the island fading into the distance, Michael knew that they still had a long journey ahead. But for the first time, he felt like they were truly making progress—together.

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