Part 4.3

I don't know a lot about looting. Really, I don't. While everyone else went mad through the large town, burning buildings and taking what they please while fighting any who got in their way, I was acting like a hoarder.

I went from from building to building, taking whatever I thought was interesting and throwing it in a big pile near the courtyard where everyone would meet up again when the sun went down. There were clothes, pieces of glass, weapons, small animals, food, a few Den Den Mushi I found, and of course silver and gold. Even I know that silver and gold are the perfect material for being looted. Don't know why, but they are.

So I built my mind of loot quickly until the mound became much larger. At that point I started calling it a hillock of loot. For laughs, I broke a few chairs down and banged together a much larger chair that was my size and placed it on top of the hillock of stuff.

From my chair, I could see most, if not all of Brakka Village. I could see it burn. People were screaming all over the place and the fires were raging all around me. I wanted to compare it to Level Four. But you know what? It didn't even remotely compare. It only looked similar, and that was it.

If they were alike, I bet I could had something cool like, 'I've brought hell to earth!' Or something similar at least.

From my chair I could also see the harbour. There were a lot of ships there, but five of them were massive. I don't know ship terms, but they were the size of Marine battleships. They were really girthy and loaded with cannons. Surrounding the large ship in the harbour were smaller ships that o would guess we're much more maneuverable.

"I'm just going to throw this guess out there. Those are cargo ships, and the smaller boats are escorts. Do these pirates know how to sail those?" I asked aloud, seriously considering the question.

Then I laughed. "Of course pirates know how to sail! I'm the one who doesn't know anything about boats!"

My laughing was cut off by a bullet wizzing by, I moved my head just in time and it nicked my mask.

I immediately stopped. I stood completely still. The next thing I did was remove my mask and assesed it to see if there was any damage while the shooter cursed and fumbled to reload. Seeing that there was a small chip taken out of it, I grew a little upset.

I removed my hockey stick from its place on my back and gave it a twirl. Yup. Still balanced. It's time to introduce this shooty bastard to the Art Of Beat-Stick.

"I got it reloaded!" The gunman calls out, helpfully giving me his position behind some rubble.

I increased my speed, and in an instant I was behind the man who shot me with what looks like a hunting rifle. He's wearing a raccoon on his head. Not a raccoon hat, just a raccoon.

The animals chitters at me loudly, getting the man's attention and causing him to turn around. He has a shocked look on his face and he begins to form an angry snarl. Before he can say anything, I introduce his mouth to my stick at Twenty-Fold speed.

He goes flying and his head impacts the side of a building with a *crunch*. As he slides to the ground and I put my stick away, I hear a boy and a girl screaming.

Now, occasionally cabin boys and women are sent to Impel Down. Young girls never are. I think this would be my first time seeing a girl even somewhere around my age. I look her over.

Nothing special.

The two kids run to the man I knocked into the wall and begin shaking him while crying.

"Papa! Papa!" The younger girl cries out through her tears.

The boy in his older teens has a furious look on his face and his hands are clenched. He turns to look at me calmly regarding him and the girl, then looks at the man's gun.

I think I get what he's trying to do, so I tell him, "I'm faster than you. You aren't fast enough to shoot me."

His eyes grow mad, and I can see blood vessels bursting in his eyes. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS! Why! Why do filthy pirates like you just come by and ruin people's lives!"

"How did I ruin your life?" I asked him curiously.

He snarls, "You killed my father. Why!"

I rub the chip he shot in my mask. "He nicked my mask with his bullet... Oh, and he tried to kill me. If you try to kill people you need to be ready to get killed in turn. So I did. And why should you care, he was just your father?"

"He was everything to me and my sister!"

"Well, if he was your everything, then why don't you focus on something else."

His eyes narrow, he sneers while his sister sobs. He grinds his teeth, spits on the ground, and then declares, "My name is Samuel Farron, and you killed my father. One day, you will die by my hands!"

"I am Prisoner 10013, and you will try."

Farron drags his sister away, clutching his father's rifle in one hand. When he's out of sight I make my way back to my chair on my pile of loot. This time I'm more on watch for shooters.

I tap my fingers on the arm of the chair and ask aloud, "Maybe I shouldn't have killed that guy... On the other hand, he tried to kill me. The bastard didn't even know me. For all he knew, I could be a fine upstanding member of society."

I looked at my prison clothes. "Oh. Yah. Criminal. Maybe since I'm technically working for the government... Well, working for Keystone, I should get some new clothes."

I looked at the hillock of loot beneath me. It was at least fifteen feet in the air. "This is going to take a while."