Jack's Departure

At the port, in front of the Pearl, Puss stood before Jack, with Will and Elizabeth at his side.

"Looks like this is it. Back to the sea," Jack said, looking calmly at Puss.

"Yes, you've got your freedom back—time to enjoy it. But don't forget, we have a deal in a month. Don't be late." Puss smiled at Jack, and couldn't help but feel a bit of regret seeing him off.

He and Jack had spent nearly two months together, and he felt things would be a little duller without him. But he didn't show it on his face, keeping a soft smile as he rested his hand casually on the hilt of his sword.

Jack wore his usual expression, and Puss had no idea what he might be thinking.

"That's true. I suppose it's time to go—a great ship to sail and a great treasure to spend. Who could say that I, Captain Jack Sparrow, am not a successful pirate?" He grinned, waved at Will, and winked at Elizabeth—who rolled her eyes at his attempted charm—then turned and left.

Climbing to the top of the Pearl's ramp, he turned and looked at Puss with a serious, heavy gaze, nodding respectfully to the cat who had helped him so much.

But just as he was about to board the ship, Puss called out again.

"Hey, Jack, save a spot for one more crewmate," Puss said with a smile.

"Oh? You're finally willing to call me captain?" Jack turned, surprised, though a small smile played on his face.

But to his disappointment, Puss shook his head.

"Not for me—it's for Will here," Puss said, and pointed his thumb toward a surprised William Turner.

"Huh? Will? Alright, he can come aboard whenever he wants." Though a little let down, Jack didn't mind. Shrugging, he boarded the ship.

Soon, under his command and with his hand on the helm, he gazed at the rising sun with a look of relief, as the ship slowly set sail from the waters of Port Royal.

Puss, Will, and Elizabeth, along with a few soldiers, watched as the ship gradually drifted away.

When the ship was too small to see, Elizabeth turned to Will.

"So, have you decided?" she asked, recalling what Puss had said about him.

"I… not yet," Will looked a bit embarrassed, speaking uncertainly, but he couldn't seem to escape her gaze.

"But it looks like you've made up your mind." She smiled, as if she could read his thoughts.

"I-I…" Will stammered, a bit hesitant before Elizabeth.

"Will, don't fear your dreams. If you don't chase them now, when you can't chase them anymore, you'll be left only with regret and sorrow in your heart." She shook her head and smiled at him.

She had always known about Will's origins and always felt he wasn't being true to who he really was. Only by going to sea could he truly find his freedom and life.

Will fell silent for a moment, staring at the ground, heart trembling, and then his gaze firmed. He looked up at her with growing determination.

"Thank you… for everything, Elizabeth," he spoke firmly, then turned and walked away with resolute steps.

Puss had been watching from the side and didn't stop him. He only spoke once he and Elizabeth were the only ones left, staring after Will as he disappeared down the streets.

"I thought you were planning to marry him," Puss said with a confused look.

"I was. Norrington's not my type, and Will isn't bad at all. My father just disliked him because of his low social status. But that doesn't matter—his heart belongs to the sea, and he'll be happier there," she spoke with conviction and looked at Puss.

"You judge a man's heart too simply, Elizabeth," he said, shaking his head, disagreeing.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Haah… maybe one day he'll regret it—but not going to sea. He'll regret not staying on land for you," Puss said, making Elizabeth's gaze turn thoughtful.

But she soon shook her head.

"We don't have such strong feelings for each other. You must be mistaken," Elizabeth replied, her face resolute.

'Well… speak for yourself. Will is madly in love with you,' he thought, but didn't say.

He didn't want to get too involved in their love matters, so he shrugged.

"Well then, shall we meet up to finish what we started?" He abruptly changed the subject and spoke charmingly to her, placing his paws behind his head, carefree.

Elizabeth was pulled from her thoughts by Puss's words, and couldn't help blushing as she looked at the gallant and powerful cat.

Just remembering his strength—knocking down hundreds of pirates, lifting a half-ton chest—and that passionate kiss, made her rub her thighs slightly.

She crouched down and whispered into Puss's ear, making a wide grin spread across his face.

"Wait a little after dinner time, and sneak into my room," she whispered, already thrilled by the thought of doing something so dangerous and exciting.

Puss removed one paw from behind his head and extended a claw, gently sliding it along the underside of her chin, careful not to hurt her—sending shivers down her spine.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he whispered back into her red, sultry ear.

Elizabeth stood up, her legs a little shaky, and quickly ran off, while Puss took his time admiring the lovely view of her retreating backside, licking his lips with thirst.

…

Back at the workshop, Will was practicing fencing with invisible shadows when Puss arrived.

Tornado was standing in the corner of the forge with a downcast and gloomy look. He didn't handle farewells well—especially not with Jack, with whom he had forged a deep friendship. He was so disheartened he didn't even want to see him off, though Jack had come to say goodbye earlier.

Puss approached and gave him a light pat on the face to comfort him.

"Calm down, boy. This farewell isn't forever. In a month, you'll see him again—don't be like this."

He comforted the horse a little more. Tornado remained dejected but still nodded at him.

Helpless, Puss consoled him a bit longer before leaving him alone.

Puss then approached Will and watched his strikes, noticing some small flaws here and there.

Scratching his chin, he pondered for a moment.

'He teaches me forging, and I give him some fencing tips. Doesn't sound like a bad deal.'

Decided, he drew his sword from his belt.

Will noticed Puss drawing his blade and immediately understood, assuming a defensive stance.

"You teach me forging, I'll teach you fencing. May the best teacher and best student win." Puss grinned, then leapt and attacked Will without hesitation.

"Ha ha! En garde!"

"More strength in the wrist!"

"Not that much—your grip should be firm, not rigid!"

"Don't limit your strike with a hesitant mind—attack without doubt!"

"Without doubt doesn't mean reckless! Don't throw your full strength into a blow without restraint..."

As Puss led the offensive and kept Will under pressure, he never stopped explaining and always gave him brief seconds to adapt before resuming his attack with renewed intensity.

Sweat trickled down Will's body as he clenched his teeth and struggled to adjust.

Small cuts appeared on his clothes, warning him of his flaws and openings.

Puss's instructions never ceased, and though not yet apparent, Will was slowly improving his fencing.

Puss kept going, and when he saw that Will was on the verge of exhaustion, he decided it was time to end the sparring.

The speed of his sword suddenly increased, catching Will off guard, and then his rapier coiled around Will's sword with flexibility, destabilizing his grip and making him loosen it slightly.

Clang! Clang!

Taking advantage of the opening and weakened hold, Puss struck his sword forcefully, knocking it aside.

Clang–Clatter! Clink! Clink Clink!

The sword flew and bounced across the floor several times, making sharp metallic sounds before coming to a stop.

When Will came to his senses, there was already a small blade pointed at his chest.

He raised his hands helplessly.

"You win," he said bitterly.

"Of course I win." Puss laughed at him and shook his head, amused.

Returning his sword to his hip, he stared at Will.

"Now it's your turn to teach." Puss looked at him seriously, ready for his forging lesson.

"Ugh…" Hearing that, Will couldn't help but make a pained face. He glanced down at his body—drenched in sweat, his clothes torn and hanging in shreds—feeling the exhaustion in his aching arms and sore wrists.

"…Can I have five minutes to rest?" he asked bitterly, massaging his wrists.