Chapter 43: Into the Fog

The fog thickened, swallowing the ship and everything around it. The once-clear horizon had vanished, replaced by an endless gray mist that clung to the ship's hull like a living thing. Every sound, from the creaking of the wooden boards beneath their feet to the flapping of the sails above, seemed amplified in the silence of the Florian Triangle.

Vulcan stood at the bow, staring out into the fog, his usual confident grin still in place. There was something exhilarating about the unknown, something that made his heart race and his blood pump with excitement. Danger was ahead, and he couldn't wait to face it.

Behind him, though, the mood was far more tense. The recruits, normally full of energy and banter, were quiet now, their eyes darting around as they gripped their weapons nervously.

"Why's it so quiet?" one of the recruits muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "I thought we'd at least hear the waves or something."

"You're not helping," another recruit snapped, tightening his grip on his sword. "Let's just stay focused."

Hina stood near the center of the deck, her arms crossed as she observed the crew. She, too, could feel the unease that had settled over the ship, but her expression remained calm, as always. Her pink hair fluttered slightly in the breeze as she turned to Smoker, who stood at the helm, cigarette in hand.

"Hina thinks the recruits are on edge," she said, her voice low enough to keep their conversation private. "This fog is getting to them."

Smoker took a long drag from his cigarette, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. "Can't say I blame them. There's something… off about this place. It's too quiet. Makes it feel like we're being watched."

"You believe the stories, then?" Hina asked, raising an eyebrow.

Smoker exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I believe in trusting my gut. And right now, it's telling me we're not alone out here."

Hina glanced over at Vulcan, who was still standing at the bow, seemingly unfazed by the tension around him. "Hina wonders if Vulcan is worried at all. He seems… excited."

Smoker followed her gaze, watching as Vulcan stretched his arms above his head, as if he were about to take a nap rather than head into one of the most dangerous parts of the Grand Line.

"Kid's got nerves of steel, I'll give him that," Smoker muttered. "But this isn't some training ground. If he's not careful, it'll get him killed."

Meanwhile, Vulcan felt the weight of the fog pressing down on him, but it didn't faze him. In fact, it only made him more eager. Every step into the unknown felt like a new challenge—a new test of his strength and resolve. He could feel the tension in the air, but instead of fear, he felt a thrill.

"Alright, fog, show me what you've got," he muttered under his breath, his hand resting on the hilt of his naginata.

The ship continued to drift forward, the sails barely catching the weak breeze that seemed to move in odd directions. The sound of the waves had all but disappeared, replaced by a deafening silence that made every creak of the ship's wood feel like a warning.

One of the recruits approached Vulcan hesitantly. "Sir, do you think we're safe?"

Vulcan glanced back at the young Marine and gave a reassuring grin. "Safe? Nah. But that's what makes it fun, right?"

The recruit blinked, clearly not reassured, but he nodded and retreated back to his post. Vulcan chuckled to himself. He couldn't expect everyone to share his enthusiasm, but that didn't mean he was going to change his approach.

As the ship drifted further into the Florian Triangle, the fog thickened even more, making it almost impossible to see beyond the edges of the deck. The eerie silence persisted, and the tension on board only grew. Even the most seasoned Marines were on edge now, their eyes scanning the fog for any sign of movement.

Then, out of nowhere, a distant creaking sound echoed through the mist.

Everyone froze.

The recruits gripped their weapons tighter, their eyes wide with fear. Smoker and Hina exchanged a glance, their expressions hardening as they prepared for whatever was out there.

"What was that?" one of the recruits whispered.

Vulcan's grin widened. "Sounds like we've got company."

The sound came again, louder this time, as if whatever was making it was getting closer. It was the unmistakable sound of a ship—another ship, moving through the fog. But there was something wrong about it. The creaking was too slow, too methodical, like the ship was being moved by some unseen force rather than the wind.

Vulcan's heart raced with excitement. "Let's go meet them, shall we?"

He started forward, but Hina grabbed his arm, her expression serious. "Hina thinks we should be cautious. We don't know what's out there."

Vulcan shrugged, pulling his arm free. "Caution's overrated. If something's coming our way, we're better off facing it head-on."

Smoker stepped forward, standing beside Vulcan. "For once, I agree with the kid. We're in the Triangle now—whatever's out there, we can't avoid it forever."

The fog around the ship seemed to thicken even more, swallowing the sounds of the ocean and the crew's nervous whispers. The eerie creaking grew louder, and soon enough, a dark shape began to materialize in the fog.

It was another ship, but it looked ancient—its sails tattered, its wood rotting, and the mast leaning at an unnatural angle. The ship's figurehead was a grotesque, grinning skull, its hollow eyes seeming to stare straight at Vulcan's crew.

The recruits gasped, some stepping back in fear, but Vulcan stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Well, well… Looks like we've found a friend," Vulcan said, his grin widening.

The ship drifted closer, moving slowly through the fog, as if it had no crew steering it. But there was a presence on board—Vulcan could feel it.

"Hina doesn't like this," Hina muttered, her eyes narrowing as she watched the ghostly ship approach. "It feels… unnatural."

"I'd say we're way past natural," Smoker said, his cigarette now just a stub between his lips. "Stay sharp."

As the ship drifted alongside them, Vulcan could see movement on the deck. Shadowy figures, barely visible through the fog, seemed to drift across the ancient wood.

"Looks like we've got a welcoming party," Vulcan said, tightening his grip on his naginata.

One of the recruits took a shaky step forward, his voice trembling. "S-Sir… what are those things?"

The shadowy figures on the deck of the ghostly ship seemed to turn toward them, their hollow eyes glowing faintly in the fog.

Vulcan's grin didn't waver. "Only one way to find out."

The two ships floated side by side, the eerie silence hanging between them like a thin thread, ready to snap at any moment. The recruits, tense and unsure, kept their weapons ready, while Smoker and Hina positioned themselves near the front of the ship, their eyes locked on the ghostly figures.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by a loud bang, followed by a splintering crash. One of the shadowy figures had leaped onto the deck of Vulcan's ship, its movements unnaturally fast and fluid. The creature landed with a thud, its hollow eyes glowing with an eerie light.

"Showtime," Vulcan said, his grin widening as he took a step forward, ready to meet the first threat of the Florian Triangle head-on.