One Month Is Enough

Under Puss's gaze, the pile of gold was slowly vanishing, while he remained atop the Aztec gold chest.

He was very cautious with it, because if someone ever took a coin and ran, or even returned it without putting blood into the chest—and he didn't notice—it would be a big problem.

Imagine if he ever needed to curse himself with immortality for some reason, and when it came time to break it, he found he couldn't... or didn't even know he had been cursed. He'd be in serious trouble.

Even though he had ways to break the curse, like the Wishing Star and the trident, he still preferred not to lose his trump card by spending other treasures to undo it.

The belongings slowly separated into four parts, and Jack's eyes sparkled when he saw his share.

"So much rum!"

Puss could swear he saw a rum symbol flash in Jack's eyes for a millisecond.

Shaking his head in amusement, Puss turned his gaze to the men who had just finished separating the treasure—not only by quantity, but also by the value of the items—managed by the bank manager, who turned out to be quite competent. Which made sense, as the bank had only been founded a few years ago, and it was very difficult for people without potential to enter administration through shady or corrupt means.

Of course, from the start, Puss had kept a close eye on such cases and had strongly emphasized the need for a robust management structure—in hiring, in career planning within the bank, and, of course, in matters of banking confidentiality, which was of the utmost importance to the Comandante's cousin, who managed the business on his behalf.

In this way, everything seemed to be going well for the GoldenClaw Bank, and the fortune they were making as a reliable and robust bank, in an era with little competition, was far greater than anything the Hum&Puss company's inventions could compare to.

The manager and his men then approached Puss, who was seated atop the stone chest.

"Sir, should we also sort the treasure beneath you?" the manager asked in a flattering and diligent tone.

The employees behind couldn't help but glance oddly at the manager—normally a serious and rigid man, now with a flowery and friendly look—and couldn't help but wonder about the cat's origin to make their manager act like that.

Even in front of the governor, their manager remained composed and dignified. The staff had even once bet that if he stood before the king, he wouldn't flinch and would remain the same.

But what they didn't know was that, before them, stood someone who, to the manager… was above the king—his boss.

"No need, that chest is my personal belonging, and isn't part of the division. Now, take one of the treasure shares and deposit it in my personal bank account. For the other two shares, create accounts for William Turner and Elizabeth Swann and place them there. Later, they can come to claim it and decide whether to leave the gold in the bank or take it. As for the last share, pack it in chests and follow Jack to bring the gold back to his ship."

Puss ordered calmly, leaning on one paw atop the chest, one leg dangling off the side, the other foot on the lid, with his arm resting on his knee.

"Yes!" the manager immediately agreed, turning to command his subordinates—but as he turned, his eye couldn't help but twitch. Just a few centimeters away stood Jack, staring at him with a grin.

"Exchange those other treasures that aren't coins for coins. Or for rum. Rum is good," Jack said, raising a finger, and as he made his point, he tapped his chin, thinking the second option was actually very good too.

"Uh... sir, sorry, but our bank doesn't deal with contraband or stolen goods," the manager took a deep breath and spoke with a serious look.

"Huh? You don't deal with that?" Jack tilted his body to the side, managing to see Puss behind the manager, who shook his head, amused.

"No, they don't. You can take the stolen goods and try trading them in Tortuga," Puss confirmed, to Jack's disappointment, and offered an alternative.

"I know that, but they pay a pittance there," Jack complained, straightening up again. But he didn't press the matter and simply nodded to the manager.

Puss smiled in amusement, but said nothing.

He didn't allow his bank to deal with the dark side of things. His bank already profited plenty dealing with the honest side, and he judged it unnecessary to get involved with such shady affairs.

Of course, he knew that if he continued down this path, there was a high risk of new banks emerging that would handle that side of the business and overshadow his own—but he didn't care that much.

By then, his bank would be a giant, difficult to shake. At most, there might be a few extra competitors, but as long as he remained reliable and didn't fall into enemy traps, it would hardly be ruined.

And even if he did fall into some trap or siege by other banks, he wasn't good enough of a person to play fair when others played dirty—and his sword and stealth skills were no joke.

Puss then stood up and stretched his back.

"You there, hold off. Before dealing with that, there's something more urgent," he said casually and jumped down from the chest, catching everyone's attention.

"I need you to help me put this—into this." He pointed to the large chest, and then to the five-centimeter frog in his hand.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at the strange request.

…

Later, after much effort from everyone, as they stretched the little frog's mouth wide enough to fit the chest, and the chest was slowly swallowed, they finally had to believe their eyes—and the absurd request from Puss.

Releasing the frog's mouth, now with the chest inside, the frog began to shrink, until it was only ten centimeters in size, making everyone rub their eyes in disbelief.

Puss wasted no time and quickly tied the frog's mouth with a thin cord to prevent it from spitting out the heavy chest and causing problems to put it back in again.

He then lifted the small and light frog with a satisfied look and placed it inside his boot.

The frog's weight at this point didn't exceed eleven pounds (5kg), which wasn't heavy at all for Puss—or for his high-quality, magically enchanted boot.

Satisfied, he looked at the bank employees.

"You can take 5% of my share and split it among yourselves for your hard work, and keep the frog and my chest a secret. I don't want a word of it to leave these walls. Manager, you'll be responsible for that. I hope you won't need to act."

Puss spoke directly, making everyone's eyes shine with excitement—but the last part made them serious and a little fearful.

He didn't give just 5% out of stinginess—on the contrary, 5% was already a huge amount, even when divided among the dozens of people there, and it made no sense to give more.

As for the threat—it wasn't a joke. He was paying them a lot of money. If they couldn't even keep their mouths shut about this small matter, then they'd deserve whatever came to them.

"Leave it to me, boss," the manager said with seriousness and firmness, and cast a narrow-eyed glance at the employees, who flinched as his gaze passed over them.

"Good." Puss nodded, and then, under everyone's stunned gaze, he left without saying another word.

Jack didn't follow him and stayed behind.

He wasn't about to leave his treasure unsupervised.

…

Arriving at the front of a smithy he had visited once before, Puss naturally pushed open the double doors and entered.

Going down the inner stairs just past the door, Puss saw Will standing still, staring at the forge—and with the sound of the doors opening earlier, he stirred and turned toward him.

Nearby, teasing the dejected donkey, was Tornado, who looked at Puss for a second before returning his attention to the donkey.

Puss smiled and ignored the horse as he turned to Will, who still looked a little dazed.

"Missing the sea already?" he teased, seeing the complex look in Will's eyes.

"Huh?! That… maybe?" Will gave an uncertain glance and looked back at the forge flames, then to his master, who was asleep in the corner and didn't even know he had returned—and Will doubted he even knew he had left at any point.

"Ohh? I was right?" Puss looked mildly surprised, then smiled as he approached and jumped onto a nearby cart, sitting down without a care.

Will had a complicated look and sighed.

"Even though I was kidnapped, when we turned things around and fought together, sailed together... I don't know... I felt free. In that moment, it felt like I had the same status as Elizabeth. There wasn't some apprentice blacksmith without a title there, but an excellent swordsman named Will Turner, fighting alongside her… alongside you all, I mean. Ahem!"

At the end, he coughed into his hand, a little embarrassed for saying too much, and then continued.

"... And when we were sailing, I wasn't a nobody, but part of something—something that wouldn't work right without me. I felt free. I felt like someone. But when I stand in front of this forge again, I feel like a nobody again."

Will looked with a complicated expression at the flames he had lit earlier.

"Curioso. Many wouldn't see things the way you do now after such an experience. I suppose, in the end, it's your blood calling you to the sea. Perhaps it always was, and you just ignored the call," Puss said with a smile, making Will go still.

"My blood?" Will murmured, surprised, and remembered the things he had heard about his father—from Gibbs, from Jack, and even from the two pirates he had freed.

His father might've been a pirate, but he was a good man—showing that there wasn't only evil in the life of freedom he longed for at sea.

Puss saw the look in his eyes slowly grow determined and smiled.

"Well, I don't know what you're going to do, but if you choose that life, I hope you'll be the kind of romanticized good pirate who doesn't harm innocent people. Otherwise, I'll hunt you down," Puss laughed and warned.

Will, with a brighter look, smiled and nodded.

"I'll keep your words in mind," he replied.

"Good. Now, I need your help with something." Puss smiled, and then got straight to the point.

"What do you need?" Will looked at him curiously at the sudden request.

"I know a bit about smithing, but I've seen your work, and I have to say it's amazing—so I want you to teach me about your craft for a month," he said directly, surprising the young blacksmith.

"You want… me to teach you smithing?" Will asked, doubt in his eyes.

"Sí," Puss replied simply.

"Well, I can—but I think a month is a bit short," Will nodded, though his tone held a hint of uncertainty.

"I already know the trade—I just need a few pointers. As long as you show me everything you know, it won't be a problem for me to learn."

Puss spoke with confidence.

"One month is enough."