SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 562: A Quiet Corner of Mariven

The following day, they rejoined the others at Mariven Port.

Xavier’s immediate acceptance of Trafalgar’s suggestion had struck him as a sign of a potential error. Bartholomew’s presence was solely due to Cynthia’s decree, making any pretense of choice futile. Zafira, while attempting to conceal her uplifted spirits, had returned in a considerably better mood than the previous night. By the time the group of five reached the beach, the sun was high, and the vast expanse of the sea shimmered with that intense, almost blinding hue characteristic of deep waters under fair skies.

They deliberately avoided the more populous areas.

This was Xavier’s initial stipulation. His reasoning was that if they were going to dedicate a day to the beach, they might as well do so in a location with fewer irritating people. Trafalgar concurred without his usual objections. After a brief stroll along the coastline, a secluded stretch of sand was discovered, offering sufficient separation from Mariven’s other beachgoers to ensure their privacy.

"This is perfect," Trafalgar declared.

With a grunt, Xavier deposited their belongings onto the sand. "Naturally. I selected it."

"You simply pointed at the first unoccupied spot you saw."

"That, my friend, is called efficiency."

Bartholomew offered a small, resigned smile and crouched to set down the bag he was carrying. Cynthia stood beside him, the sea breeze playfully tugging at a strand of hair that she momentarily brushed away from her face.

"It’s peaceful," she commented. "That alone makes it superior to the main beach."

Zafira surveyed the shoreline with evident contentment. "At least no one here is shrieking."

Xavier placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "You speak as if the public's exclamations of joy displease you."

"They do."

"How cold."

Trafalgar let their banter continue as his gaze drifted towards the ocean. The air here possessed a cleaner scent, a blend of salt, warmth, and the subtle aroma of algae carried by the tide. Mariven Port had successfully reverted to the appearance of an ordinary vacation spot, an image that felt almost like a mockery after the events of the previous night.

‘What a stark contrast between today and yesterday,’ he mused internally.

Towels were spread across the sand, and the remaining items were unpacked haphazardly. Xavier was already in the process of removing his shirt, while Bartholomew was still mentally processing the reality of their current situation.

The true shift in atmosphere occurred a few minutes later, upon the girls' return after changing.

Bartholomew experienced a sudden, inexplicable gagging sensation.

Cynthia’s choice was simple, dark, and practical, yet it undeniably accentuated the curves she typically concealed beneath her uniform and jacket. Her skin possessed a warmer undertone than Zafira's, suggesting more sun exposure, and her physique was leaner, more athletic, denoting the compact strength of someone who genuinely engaged in training rather than merely discussing it. Noticing Trafalgar’s gaze lingering a moment too long, she adjusted a strap near her shoulder.

"Well?" she inquired, her attempt at nonchalance falling just short. "Don't just stand there gawking."

Zafira emerged moments after Cynthia, and even Xavier paused his actions, momentarily silenced.

Her skin appeared pale, almost pearlescent under the sunlight, creating a striking contrast with the black fabric that only amplified its effect. The bikini was a surprisingly flattering choice, doing little to disguise the fact that her décolletage commanded attention before any other aspect of her appearance. Her long, purple hair cascaded freely over her shoulders, swaying gently in the breeze, while her expression conveyed a clear warning: she would retaliate against anyone who turned this into a spectacle.

She crossed her arms.

"So, Trafalgar?"

He glanced between the two women, fully cognizant that any misstep in his response would lead to significant repercussions.

"You both look stunning," he stated.

Xavier let out a snort of laughter. "What a coward."

"It was the appropriate response," Trafalgar retorted.

"It was the safest response."

"That too."

Cynthia averted her gaze, though not before a subtle hint of satisfaction flickered across her features. Zafira subtly lifted her chin, a clear indicator of her pleasure, despite her unwillingness to vocalize it.

Beside them, Bartholomew leaned slightly towards his sister, lowering his voice.

"Isn't that bikini a bit… daring?"

Cynthia responded without turning to face him.

"I felt like trying something new..."

Bartholomew found himself at a loss for words, averting his gaze towards the sea, his ears tinged with red. For once, Xavier remained silent. Trafalgar, meanwhile, juggled the ball in one hand, tossing it lightly into the air repeatedly. In a few short minutes, they were engaged in a game near the water's edge. The match commenced with a lack of structure, which it maintained throughout. As anticipated, Xavier dove into the game with gusto, his presence loud, direct, and utterly commanding. Cynthia displayed a surprising agility, her movements across the sand fluid and efficient, indicative of someone disciplined in physical training. Zafira, economical with her every motion, maintained a measured approach even with the sea at her back and the sun warming her skin; her steps, turns, and returns of the ball were all deliberate.

Initially, Bartholomew found himself lagging, his tendency to overthink before acting hindering his play. Yet, gradually, he began to relax, shedding the appearance of someone reluctantly present. Trafalgar contributed little to the conversation during the game. Xavier, brimming with more energy than was needed for the four of them, dominated the vocal aspect, while the others chimed in only when the mood struck them. This dynamic was sufficient. The afternoon drifted by without any sense of burden, marked only by the sun, the sea, the warmth of the sand, and the rhythmic back-and-forth of the ball as the hours unfolded peacefully around them.

By the time they decided to cease their game, the tide had advanced slightly closer to the shore.

Xavier was the first to collapse onto the sand, his breaths more labored than anyone else's, despite his pretense of having single-handedly won the entire event. Cynthia meticulously brushed the sand from her legs. Zafira gravitated towards the water, her interest evidently piqued by the sea rather than prolonged idle conversation. Bartholomew remained near his sister, his earlier tension eased, though a vestige of his habitual caution still lingered. Trafalgar kept a comfortable distance behind them, allowing the sea breeze to wash over him.

‘So, this is what a peaceful day looks like!’

The sentiment felt more profound than it should have.

Xavier propped himself up on one arm, turning his attention towards the ocean.

‘We should head in now.’

No objections were raised.

The sea advanced and retreated in long, shimmering lines under the afternoon sun, its calmness creating a sense of seclusion for that stretch of coast, setting it apart from the rest of Mariven Port. For the first time since their arrival, the day finally aligned with its intended peaceful nature.

They commenced their walk towards the water, as one.