Chapter 4. (Remake) Escape to the Unknown
[Threat detected. Estimated time to interception: 5 seconds.]
Oracle's voice, always calm, cut through the chaos in his mind once again, urging him to get up. But his body wouldn't respond. His chest heaved, the weight of the gas mask pressing down on his face like a suffocating veil.
I need to move.
"Hey!"
The shout came from above him, sharp and too close for comfort. Charlie's vision cleared just enough to see the blurred figure of a pirate standing over him, one hand extended. The man's expression softened as if he thought Charlie was just another unlucky sailor who had taken a hard fall.
"Come on, get up. We need help with the sail—" the pirate started, his voice growing impatient.
Then the pirate's eyes widened in realization when Charlie finally turns towards him , his gaze locking onto the gas mask strapped tightly over Charlie's face.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Charlie saw the flicker of fear and confusion in the man's face turn to panic, the pirate's mouth opening to yell. The instinct to flee, to survive, surged through Charlie's veins. His hand shot up, gripping the knife still sheathed at his side, and before he could stop himself—before his mind caught up with his body—he plunged the blade into the man's neck.
Warm blood sprayed across Charlie's gloved hand as the pirate's eyes bulged in shock, a gurgling sound escaping his throat. The man collapsed on top of him, his weight pressing down on Charlie's chest.
A wave of nausea hit him hard.
I've killed someone.
The thought barely registered. His vision swam, bile rising in the back of his throat. Charlie's mind screamed at him to get the body off, to push the pirate away, but all he could do was lie there, the weight of his actions crushing him.
He had never imagined it would come to this.
"I... I didn't..." He gagged, swallowing down the urge to vomit, his hands trembling beneath the still-warm body.
[Threat level critical. Immediate action required. Dispose of the body—Inventory storage recommended for best results. Relocate immediately. Non-compliance could lead to immediate termination.] Oracle's voice broke through the fog in his mind, pulling him back into the moment.
Charlie gasped and forced himself to shove the body aside, his muscles stiff with shock. Fumbling, he tapped into the System, his fingers shaking as the pirate's corpse vanished into his inventory in a swirl of shimmering light.
He scrambled to his feet, his heart racing, and scanned the deck. No one had seen the altercation, but it wouldn't be long before someone may notice the missing crewman.
[…Downstairs…Hide…Now…]
Without thinking, Charlie sprinted toward the door that led below deck, ducking out of sight just as a group of pirates rounded the corner, their urgent voices echoing through the night. He pushed the door open and descended into the bowels of the ship, his footsteps echoing in the cramped wooden corridors.
The walls seemed to close in around him as he crouched in the tight, dimly lit space the pirate had told him about earlier. Sweat dripped from his brow, pooling under the suffocating mask. The air was stifling, the small room too small, too cramped, too wrong.
His breath quickened, his chest tightening as panic clawed its way up his throat. The walls pressed in, squeezing him tighter and tighter.
I can't breathe... I can't breathe...
Charlie's breath came in ragged gasps, the walls closing in, his heart thundering against his ribs. He clawed at his throat, as if the mask was suffocating him, and the taste of bile rose in the back of his throat. I can't—
[Heart rate elevated. Erratic breathing detected.]
Oracle's voice cut through the fog like a knife, cold and precise, utterly detached from the chaos inside his mind.
What?
[Threat not eliminated. Further action still required.]
Charlie sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly as the haze in his vision began to clear. The panic didn't vanish, but the Oracle's words grounded him, pulling him back from the edge. His pulse slowed—slightly—and his grip on the floor loosened.
He grasped onto those words like a lifeline, desperate for any sense of reassurance. But then his mind flashed to the explosion he'd orchestrated back in Port Town. Had he killed people then too? He'd never stayed to find out, unwilling to face the answer. He shuddered, the lingering uncertainty gnawing at him.
This is what I'm becoming, he thought bitterly, the weight of his actions pressing down on him.
And then, in the distance, he heard it.
A scream.
Sharp, shrill, and terrified. A child's scream.
Charlie's blood froze. His head snapped toward the sound. There shouldn't be any children on this ship.
Quest 1: Protect the Innocent.
Objective: Defend the child from the pirates threatening her.
Success: The child is saved.
Reward:
Focus (Beginner): A skill that helps you maintain composure in tense situations, reducing panic and anxiety.
Breathing Technique (Beginner): A method to regulate your breathing, allowing you to stay grounded and make clearer decisions when under stress.
Failure: The child's life might be terminated.
The moment he saw the quest he stooped hesitating, he pushed open the door and stepped back into the corridor. The child screamed again, and this time it was closer. Charlie moved silently toward the source, his heart pounding in his chest.
He turned a corner and saw it— a pirate, around him a group of chained prisoners, filthy and bruised. Among them was a little girl, no older than eight, trembling in the grip of the burly pirate who looked ready to snap at any moment. The pirate's face was twisted in frustration, his eyes wild with fear.
"I'm dead anyway," the pirate muttered under his breath, gripping the child's arm tighter. "I'll be lucky if Krieg doesn't gut me alive for this screw-up... so what's one more mistake?"
Charlie's breath caught as he watched the pirate raise his other hand. His heart pounded in his ears, each beat felt like a countdown.
I don't have a choice, he thought, the quest had reminded him of what he had to do. He could already feel his muscles tense, his body begging him to move.
This wasn't the first time anyway.
This pirate had to die—Charlie knew that. He deserved it, needed it. But that didn't make it easier.
With a surge of adrenaline, Charlie moved before his mind could protest any more. He lunged, the machete that appeared in his hand glinting under the dim light, and brought it down on the pirate's neck. The man crumpled, lifeless, as blood pooled around his body.
It was that easy.
The body crumpled to the floor, the wet thud of the pirate's lifeless form echoing in the dim space. Charlie stared down at him, his breath coming in sharp bursts. But there was no nausea this time. No shock. Just... clarity.
This is what has to happen. Some people are better off dead.
The thought came to him easily, naturally. He didn't fight it. The pirate was scum, and the world was better without him. That's all there was to it.
This time... this time, he didn't feel like vomiting.
Better off dead, Charlie thought, his grip tightening around the handle of the machete. He looked up at it, then back at the bloodied body at his feet.
He didn't feel guilty.
Not this time.
—————
Smoker leaned back in his chair, the edges of the report crumpling under his grip. He'd read it twice, but the words still grated on him. The incident had unfolded on an island to the east, not far from Loguetown. It started with a fire in the town center, fierce and fast, tearing through the old buildings. Every available Marine had been deployed to contain it, a task that took longer than expected with the dense, aged wood fueling the flames. But that delay—one that could have been fatal for those trapped in the fire—ended up sparing their lives, a fact that made Smoker's skin crawl.
Forty pirates had been caught in the blast by the docks, obliterated when the warehouse went up. If the fire hadn't detained them, the Marines would've been right there in the blast radius, wiped out along with the pirates. The report detailed injuries from flying debris—a close call, by any standard.
Smoker didn't believe in luck. No, this had all the marks of a setup, a trap meant to take down everyone—Marines and pirates alike. Whoever was behind this had planned for collateral damage, and it was only by sheer chance the Marines had narrowly avoided annihilation. The thought clawed at him.
And then there was the fire. The report hinted at something darker, that it hadn't been an accident or mere coincidence. Rumors swirled that it had been a diversion, a way to draw the Marines away from the warehouse before springing the trap. And the discovery that every box stored there had been emptied beforehand raised more questions than answers.
Witnesses reported a figure in a gas mask on a rooftop, not far from the warehouse. According to the young courier they'd questioned, it was this same masked figure who'd given him the warning letter, leading the Marines directly into the ambush. It was clear they'd been manipulated.
"Whoever this guy is, he's no amateur," Smoker muttered, smoke curling tightly around his clenched fists. The lack of clarity surrounding this figure's identity, coupled with the devastation left behind, made Smoker's skin crawl. This wasn't just a pirate. This was someone who planned, someone who could manipulate events and leave behind only smoke and rumors. It felt deliberate—an execution by someone who didn't care who got caught in the crossfire.
Was this masked man just after the pirates, or was he aiming to eliminate Marines too? Smoker couldn't tell, and that made it worse. He'd seen vigilantes, bounty hunters, and rogues, but none who moved with such precise, ruthless intent. Whoever this was, they'd made themselves his problem.
———
Charlie glanced down at the huddled slaves, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. The shackles binding their wrists and ankles gleamed in the dim light, the cold metal biting into their skin. He moved quickly, his hands steady but his heart still racing, as he focused on the inventory system. One by one, the chains vanished—disappearing into thin air, and reappearing somewhere within his inventory.
The slaves stared at him in disbelief, rubbing their raw, bruised wrists, the marks of captivity still fresh. But Charlie barely registered their reactions. His mind was already moving to the next step. A first aid kit... why didn't I bring one? He clenched his fists, silently cursing his lack of preparation. They were battered and broken; some had deep cuts, others had skin rubbed raw from the restraints.
I should've prepared better.
[Noted.]
The word echoed coldly in his mind, and he paused. It took him a moment to realize it was Oracle, the words dropping like stones in the silence. He blinked. Wait... you can hear my thoughts?
[Correct.]
Despite the tension, he couldn't help a small smile. That's going to make things a lot easier. Thanks, Oracle. For everything.
[Unnecessary. I am an artificial intelligence. Emotive responses are not required.]
That's okay, Charlie thought, his smile faint but genuine. I just wanted to say it anyway.
His moment of reflection was interrupted as the slaves began to murmur among themselves. One of them, a woman with matted hair and dark circles under her eyes, stumbled forward. "Thank you... thank you so much," she whispered, her voice hoarse, tears welling in her eyes. She dropped to her knees, and before Charlie could react, the rest followed her lead, thanking him profusely.
Charlie raised a hand, uncomfortable with their gratitude. "It's fine. Just... stay calm. We're not safe yet."
One of the men, his face bruised and swollen from a recent beating, glanced around nervously. "But... what about the rest of the pirates? Are they gone? Are we safe?"
Charlie felt the subtle shift of the ship beneath his feet, the gentle sway of the waves rocking the vessel. He glanced at the walls, listening intently to the faint creaking of the ship. "We're still at sea," he said slowly. "Which means the pirates are still on board."
The murmurs of thanks quickly turned to whispers of fear.
Charlie straightened up and glanced toward the hatch leading to the deck. "I'll go check outside. See what the situation is," he said, his voice steady despite the tension. He took a step toward the exit, but before he could move any further, a small hand grabbed his.
He looked down to see the little girl, her wide eyes filled with worry. "Onii-chan... please don't go... you'll get hurt," she said softly, her voice trembling. She clung to his hand with all the strength she had, as if her grip alone could keep him safe.
Charlie paused, crouching down to her level. Without thinking, he reached out to pat her head, but as his hand neared, she flinched, recoiling slightly. Her body stiffened, and Charlie quickly withdrew his hand.
His heart clenched at that. He knew pain, loneliness, and desperation, but this... this was different. Maybe she saw him as just another monster in a mask. She needed someone real, someone she could believe in—even if only for a moment.
He gently turned her away from the others, then reached up and slid his mask off, stowing it in his inventory. His face softened as he knelt down, offering her a warm, unguarded smile. "I promise, I'm going to make sure you're safe," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity.
The girl blinked up at him, her eyes wide as they searched his face. Tentatively, she moved closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "My mama... they took her outside yesterday," she sobbed, her small shoulders shaking. "They put her on another boat. Said I'd never see her again."
Charlie's heart twisted painfully. He hadn't expected that, but her words stirred something deep within him. He gently touched her shoulder, drawing her into a hug. She clung to him tightly, burying her face in his chest as her small body trembled with each sob.
He said nothing, just held her, letting her cry until her tears slowed to shaky breaths. She sniffled, wiping her eyes as she looked up at him. "Thank you, Onii-chan," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Charlie smiled again, his hand gently cupping her shoulder. "You're a very brave you know." he said, his tone soft yet full of warmth.
He reached out once more, his hand hovering just above her head. This time, she didn't flinch. She stayed still as his hand gently patted her head, her small face relaxing, a hint of trust returning to her eyes.
Charlie stood up, his mask reappearing on his face with a flicker of light. He turned to face the other freed slaves. "Stay here and keep quiet. I'll be back soon," he said, his voice muffled slightly by the mask.
He climbed the ladder, pushing open the hatch just enough to peer out onto the deck. The night air was cool against his skin as he scanned the area, assessing the situation. A few pirates milled about, but most seemed to be below deck or in the captain's quarters. Charlie slipped out, moving silently across the wooden planks.
[Your decision to remove the mask and reveal your identity to the child was ill-advised. Probability of exposure: 35%. Maintaining anonymity is crucial in your current state.]
Charlie exhaled, acknowledging the Oracle's point. But still… He glanced back at the hatch, recalling the tear-streaked face that had looked up at him with hope. The way she had clung to him reminded him too much of someone else.
She reminded me of my little cousin. His expression softened as memories surfaced. She was half-Japanese, and every time I visited, she'd call me "Onii-chan" and follow me everywhere. He shook his head, the memories lingering. This girl... she needed that right now.
[Emotional attachment is inefficient. No tactical advantage was gained from this interaction.]
Charlie's lips curved into a slight smirk. Not everything has to bring gain, Oracle. Some things just need to be done because they're right. He moved forward, keeping his steps light on the creaking boards. I know that might not compute with your algorithms, but people... people need comfort sometimes. He scanned the perimeter again, his gaze hardening. Especially now.
There was a long pause from the Oracle before it responded.
[This reasoning contrasts with your Quest System, which operates purely on objective and reward-based principles.]
Charlie's smirk softened into something sadder, but resolute. Yeah, well... he thought. Not everything in life is about the reward, Oracle. Some things are just worth doing.
Charlie crouched lower behind a stack of crates, straining to catch the pirates' conversation.
"…I'm tellin' ya, I saw him get on board," one pirate said, his voice low but firm. "Just in time, too. There's no way he didn't make it…"
"Yeah, well, he's most likely dead now," the second pirate growled. "Kier was always in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Kier. That must've been the guy I killed, Charlie thought, piecing together the information.
[59% likelihood that 'Kier' was the pirate you eliminated.]
Charlie's stomach twisted at the name, the memory of the kill still fresh and unsettling. It wasn't something he'd meant to do—more instinct than intent.
The third pirate spat over the side of the ship. "Doesn't matter. He's gone, and now we're screwed. From seventy-two, we're down to fourteen. Fourteen! We can barely keep control of this damn ship."
Seventy-two? The number hit Charlie like a cold wave. The guy I interrogated said there were only thirty-five. That bastard lied to me.
[Probability of misinformation in prior interrogation: confirmed. Suggested caution in future interactions with hostile informants.]
Charlie's hands clenched slightly. Even if there were only fourteen left, that was still more than enough to overwhelm him. He had no combat training, no fighting experience beyond the few desperate moves he'd managed to pull off. He could maybe take out one or two, but all at once? That was suicide.
He scanned the deck, searching for any sign of an opportunity. He might be able to create a distraction, draw some of the pirates away, but it would be risky. There was no guarantee he could pull it off without putting the captives in even more danger.
The first pirate shook his head. "We've got two more hours 'til we hit the northeast port. We're supposed to meet the guys there and dock quietly. But without Kier—"
"Kier had the only damn Den Den Mushi!" the second pirate snarled, slamming his fist against the railing. "We can't even warn 'em about what's goin' on here!"
[Correction: 99% likelihood that 'Kier' was the pirate you eliminated. He was carrying a Den Den Mushi.]
Good. That could be useful later. But now wasn't the time to push his luck. He needed to regroup, and figure out a way off this ship without drawing the pirates' attention.
Carefully, he backed away from the crates, slipping quietly back to the hatch.
Charlie descended the ladder quietly, slipping back into the dimly lit cabin where the slaves huddled together. Their eyes flicked up toward him as he entered, the tension still palpable in the room.
Charlie stopped in the middle of the group, taking a deep breath before speaking. "I've got good news," he said, his voice calm but reassuring. "We're only two hours away from shore, and there are only fourteen pirates left on board. They're barely controlling the ship."
A few relieved murmurs rippled through the group, and Charlie could see some of the tension start to leave their faces. He reached into his inventory and pulled out the Den Den Mushi, holding it up for them to see.
"I managed to get my hands on this," he added. "But unfortunately, I don't have any useful contacts. We're in the dark about who's waiting for the pirates at the port."
Silence followed, the weight of uncertainty hanging over them. Then, the small voice of the little girl broke through.
"Onii-chan," she said softly, stepping forward. "I know a contact."
Charlie looked at her, surprised. "You do?"
She nodded, her eyes wide but determined. "My grandfather… he's a Marine. I remember his Den Den Mushi number." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "He can help us."
The room went still, a glimmer of hope sparking in their eyes. Charlie's gaze softened as he looked at her, absorbing the sincerity in her voice.
Charlie crouched down to her level, nodding. "That's perfect. Thank you."
She recited the number, and he quickly dialed, waiting as the Den Den Mushi rang in the stillness. After a few rings, a gruff, unfamiliar voice answered.
"Who is this?"
Charlie steadied his voice, speaking firmly. "Listen carefully. I'm on a pirate ship en route to the northeast side of Loguetown port. We're about two hours out. There are around fourteen pirates left onboard, and they're holding people hostage—including your granddaughter."
A moment of silence followed, then a strained voice replied, thick with a mix of fear and anger, "Rika…?"
Charlie looked down at her. "Yes, she's safe," he said quickly, trying to reassure the man. "She's here with me, and she's alright for now. But we need your help."
The voice on the other end softened, filled with an intensity that made Charlie pause. "Let me speak to her."
Charlie passed the Den Den Mushi to Rika, her small hands trembling as she took it. "Grandpa?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Rika…? Is it really you?" The man's voice cracked, a mixture of relief and sorrow.
Rika's voice strengthened. "Yes, Grandpa. I'm safe… but there are pirates still on board. We need help."
Charlie took the Den Den Mushi back, his tone direct. "Can you get word to the Marines at Loguetown? We need reinforcements by the time we arrive. There's no telling what these pirates might do."
The grandfather's voice regained a steely edge. "Understood. I'll make sure they're ready. You keep her safe, you hear?"
Charlie nodded, even though the man couldn't see. "You have my word."
He ended the call, pocketing the Den Den Mushi as the weight of the situation settled in. Rika looked up at him with a small, hopeful smile, and for a moment, he found himself reflecting on his choice to show her his face earlier. She had trusted him with more than just her safety—she had trusted him with her family.
I guess taking the mask off in order to calm her down wasn't such a mistake after all, he thought with a smirk.
[Conclusion: Current circumstances confirm that earlier action provided an unforeseen advantage.]
Charlie chuckled softly in his mind. You see, Oracle? Not everything has to be tactical. Sometimes, it's just about trust.
Charlie took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair as he considered the situation. The adrenaline had subsided, but now the weight of responsibility pressed down on him. He couldn't afford to make mistakes. Fourteen pirates left, a secret port on the horizon, and a group of scared, exhausted people relying on me.
[Strategic input required for optimal extraction.]
Charlie sighed. Yeah, I know. We need to get everyone off this ship quietly, without attracting attention. Any ideas?
[The ship is currently under minimal control by the remaining pirates. Stealth is recommended to avoid a direct confrontation. You possess several materials plus the ones in the storage room. Utilization of available resources to construct an escape method is optimal.]
Charlie's eyes shifted around the room. Crates, wooden barrels, ropes. There was plenty here to work with. A raft? he thought.
[Affirmative. Construction of a flotation device using the available barrels and wood would allow for quiet departure from the vessel. Noise minimization is crucial.]
Charlie's mind raced, formulating the plan. We can build a raft in this room without being noticed if we're careful. I can use the inventory to take out and place items in the right position. No hammering or sawing needed. If we stay quiet, we can get everyone on the raft and drift off before anyone realizes we're gone. Once the raft is ready, we'll need to wait for the right moment to get everyone up on deck and off the ship. It'll be risky, but it's our best shot.
[Logical deduction. However, remaining undetected during raft construction and getting everyone outside is critical. Additionally efficient extraction of the hostages is achievable with 80% probability, barring unforeseen variables.] Charlie smirked at the cold calculation.
80%? Guess I'll have to make up the last 20. Once the raft is ready, we'll need to wait for the right moment to get everyone up on deck and off the ship. It'll be risky, but it's our best shot.
He turned to the group, keeping his voice low but steady. "Listen up. We're going to build a raft in here, as quietly as possible. Once it's ready, we'll sneak out and lower it into the water. From there, we drift to shore and meet up with the Marines."
The former captives exchanged nervous glances, but nodded in agreement. Charlie could see the glimmer of hope in their eyes, tentative but growing.
"What if the pirates notice us leaving?" one man asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Charlie met his gaze, his expression resolute behind the mask. "I'll make sure they don't. If anything goes wrong, I'll distract them while you all escape on the raft. Your safety is the priority."
The man nodded slowly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Charlie turned his attention to the materials scattered around the room, his mind already working through the raft's construction.
Another man spoke up with concern. "How will we get it out of here?" he asked worriedly. "The hatch can barely fit two people."
Charlie didn't get angry at the question; it was a valid concern. Instead, he walked over to one of the boxes and with a wave of his hand, made it disappear into his inventory before reappearing it in a different location.
"Just like how I made your shackles vanish earlier," he said with a hint of amusement as their eyes widened in surprise.
"Wait, Onii-chan, are you a Devil fruit user?" asked Rika in amazement.
"Something like that," he answered.
Charlie then turned his attention back to the cluttered room and took a deep breath. This was uncharted territory for him, so he wanted to seek advice before approaching anyone else, so he decided to consult his trusted AI first. Okay Oracle, Do you know how to build a raft?
[Affirmative, Combining the supplies you acquired back on Porttown with the items around here you should have enough. Begin by selecting six empty barrels of similar size. Position them in two rows of three, with a space between each row.]
Charlie moved quickly, using the inventory system to put the barrels from the far corners of the room without making a sound. Within moments, they were laid out as Oracle instructed. Next?
[Retrieve eight planks of wood, approximately six feet in length each. Lay four planks across the tops of the barrels, perpendicular to the rows, spacing them evenly. This will form the raft's base.]
Charlie nodded, scanning the room until he spotted a stack of long wooden planks leaning against the wall. Moving swiftly, he shifted them into his inventory and began positioning them atop the barrels, carefully spacing them out as Oracle directed.
As he worked, Charlie couldn't help but glance at Rika from time to time. The little girl had settled down near the wall, her knees hugged to her chest, but her eyes followed his every move with a mix of curiosity and trust. The weight of her grandfather's words echoed in his mind. "You keep her safe, you hear?"
He would. No matter what it took. These people were counting on him now, and he refused to let anything to happen to them.
Not under my watch.
————
In Loguetown, the early morning was still shrouded in the last hints of night. The sun hadn't yet risen, and the base was quiet, save for a few early-shift Marines. Smoker sat at his desk, a cigar hanging from his lips as he sifted through the night's reports. The silence felt strange, unnatural. It made him restless.
Suddenly, the Den Den Mushi on his desk rang, its eyes snapping open. The urgency in its tone told Smoker this was no routine call. He grabbed the receiver, his expression hardening.
"This is Smoker," he said, his voice low and gravelly.
On the other end, a voice erupted with rage. "Smoker, this is Vice Admiral Hiroshi. We have a situation."
Smoker sat up straight, his brows knitting together. Hiroshi wasn't one to overreact, and the fury in his voice was unmistakable. "What's going on, sir?"
"It's my granddaughter!" Hiroshi's voice cracked, a mix of rage and desperation. "She's been taken by pirates. They're two hours from the northeast port near Loguetown, still at sea. You need to move, now!"
Smoker's hand tightened on the receiver. "Your granddaughter? How the hell did this happen?"
Hiroshi's tone grew sharper. "Pirates raided the village. She was visiting her cousins with her mother. She's on board one of their ships, but I just got word from someone on the inside. She's alive, but they need immediate extraction. There are only fourteen pirates left, and they're headed for a secret rendezvous at the port."
Smoker's eyes narrowed as he absorbed the details. "Understood. I'll get my team and intercept them before they dock."
"Smoker," Hiroshi growled, his voice almost shaking, "you keep my granddaughter safe, or I swear..."
"You don't need to threaten me, Vice Admiral," Smoker cut in coldly. "I'll take care of it."
"See that you do." Hiroshi's voice echoed one last time before the line clicked off.
Smoker exhaled through his nose, smoke curling upward as he processed the information. A Vice Admiral's granddaughter, hostage to pirates? This wasn't just another mission. It was personal now—and it would be swift.
He stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket and heading out into the crisp early morning air. The sky was still dark, though hints of dawn crept over the horizon. Smoker's mind was already racing through the logistics of the rescue when he called out into the still air.
"Tashigi!"
His loyal subordinate hurried toward him, adjusting her glasses as she arrived. "Yes, Captain?"
"Gather a team, fast," Smoker barked, his voice sharp. "We've got pirates with hostages, including Vice Admiral Hiroshi's granddaughter. They're heading to the northeast port. We intercept them before they dock."
Tashigi's eyes widened but she quickly nodded. "Right away, Captain."
Smoker stormed out toward the shipyard, the smell of salt air and smoke blending in the cool breeze. His fists clenched, trails of smoke swirling around them.
These pirates made a mistake, he thought grimly, his anger barely contained. And it's one they won't live to regret.
———
Charlie tied a length of rope with swift, silent precision, securing the barrels tightly to the wooden planks they'd scavenged. The raft was nearly complete. The former slaves watched anxiously, their eyes darting between Charlie and the hatch above, aware that their time was running out. Just a little more, he thought, and they'd have a shot at escape.
Suddenly, a harsh voice rang out from above deck, impatient and loud.
"Gordy! Where the hell are you? We're less than half an hour from shore! Get your lazy ass up here and help with the sails!"
Charlie's breath stilled. Gordy—that could be the one who had threatened Rika. The voice from above grew louder, more frustrated.
"Gordy! You deaf or something?" There was a pause, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots stomping toward the hatch.
The slaves' faces paled, panic spreading through the group. One of them clutched the edge of the raft as if holding onto it would somehow make the danger pass. "What do we do?" a woman whispered, her voice trembling.
Charlie raised a hand, signaling for calm. "Stay quiet," he whispered. "I'll handle this."
The pirate above was getting angrier by the second. "Gordy, if you don't get your ass out here right now, I'm coming down to get you myself!"
Charlie's heart raced. He had blocked the hatch earlier, piling crates and barrels on top, but he knew it wouldn't hold for long. He needed more time. Quickly, he began pulling debris, planks, and whatever else he could find, piling it against the stairs in a desperate attempt to delay the inevitable.
[Warning: Intruder approaching. Estimated time to entry—two minutes.]
Two minutes? That's all we've got? Charlie thought, moving faster.
The pirate slammed his fist against the hatch. "Why the hell is this door stuck?!" Frustration turned to rage. "Alright, Gordy, you're really pushing your luck!"
The sound of wood splintering echoed through the cabin as the pirate began forcing the hatch open.
The former slaves huddled closer to the raft, their fear palpable. Charlie glanced at them and whispered, "Stay calm. We'll make it out of this."
The hatch creaked, and then with a loud crack, the pirate forced it open slightly. His head poked through, eyes narrowed in anger. "What the hell is this?"
The pirate squinted, noticing the missing ladder and the debris piled up in front of the entrance. His eyes darted around the dimly lit room until they landed on the group of terrified slaves—and a man in a gas mask, tying the last piece of rope onto what looked like a makeshift raft.
The pirate's face twisted in confusion. "What the hell are you doing down there? Is that a raft? How the hell do you plan on getting it out of here?"
Charlie stayed silent, but his heart was pounding. The pirate's confusion quickly morphed into rage.
"Oi! You better explain yourself right now!" the pirate bellowed, his voice growing louder.
The pirate started yelling for backup, and soon, Charlie could hear the stomping of more footsteps approaching the hatch.
[Alert: Three additional hostiles en route. Time to entry—one minute.]
Charlie gritted his teeth. This is getting worse by the second.
The pirate continued to force the hatch open, tearing through the barricade Charlie had set up. The door was beginning to give way, and Charlie knew they had only moments left.
[Recommendation: Immediate action required. Probability of successful escape decreases with each passing second.]
Charlie's hands moved faster, securing the last piece of rope. "Done," he muttered. The slaves were on edge, their panic barely contained.
"Hold on," Charlie whispered to them, his voice firm. "We'll get out of here."
The pirate finally broke through, his eyes widening as he stared down into the room. The situation was growing more dire by the second, and Charlie knew they were running out of time. In a split second, he weighed his options.
Storing the raft wasn't enough anymore—they needed the whole ship out of play. He reached to his inventory, mentally commanding the System to store the entire ship.
[Error: Object too large for remote storage. Skin contact required for retrieval.]
His heart skipped a beat. Skin contact? He swallowed hard, knowing what this meant. Taking off his glove with pirates about to storm the room was a risk he hadn't planned for, but there was no time for hesitation.
"Everyone, get on the raft!" Charlie ordered, his voice sharp and controlled. "Now."
The freed slaves scrambled onto the makeshift raft, their movements hurried but silent as they obeyed. Charlie, meanwhile, pulled off one of his gloves, his hand trembling slightly. He reached out and pressed his bare hand against one of the wooden pillars supporting the ship.
[Storage process initiated. Estimated time for full retrieval: five minutes.]
Five minutes. It might as well have been an eternity. Every second would count.
"Oi! Help me down here!"
Footsteps pounded above as the pirates hurried to join him. The situation was becoming more dangerous by the second. The first pirate finally got inside and drew his saber, his face twisted with anger. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but it's over!"
He leaped down, swinging wildly at Charlie.
[Danger detected. Hostile engaging.]
Charlie ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the saber's edge. His hand remained firmly on the pillar. He couldn't risk breaking contact. The pirate swung again, but Charlie dodged, moving just enough to evade without letting go. Fortunately when the pirate come down the the makeshift barricade shifted just enough to make the other pirates momentarily unable to get in, it held on—for now.
On the third swing, fueled by rage, the pirate miscalculated. His saber caught on the pillar, wedging itself into the wood with a sharp crack.
Charlie saw his chance. Using the stuck saber as leverage, he swung his arm wide, faking a wild strike at the him. The pirate smirked, easily dodging, his confidence growing. You think you can take me? his eyes seemed to say. I've got years of experience—
But before he could finish the thought, in Charlie's hand, a machete materialized mid-swing. The pirate barely had time to react before the blade sliced clean through his neck.
His head flew through the air, a grin still frozen on his face. The body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling at Charlie's feet.
[Hostile neutralized. Time remaining for retrieval: 3 minutes 30 seconds.]
Charlie stood there, his heart racing, but he didn't feel the same nausea or shock as before. This time, the clarity was undeniable. This was necessary. He gripped the machete tighter, glancing toward the doorway where more pirates struggled to break through the debris.
"Three minutes," he muttered to himself. "Just need three more minutes…"
Suddenly the makeshift barricade gave way with a loud crash, and one of the pirates, in his rush to break in, lost his balance and fell face-first onto the wooden floor with a heavy thud. The other two pirates jumped in right after, weapons drawn, their eyes scanning the room.
Charlie seized the opportunity, quickly summoning a massive stone from his inventory. Without hesitation, he dropped it directly onto the head of the prone pirate. The stone connected with a sickening crack, reducing the man's skull to a bloody mess. Blood splattered across the floor, and the pirate's body went limp.
[Hostile neutralized.Time remaining for retrieval: 3 minutes 4 seconds.]
The remaining two pirates reeled back, their eyes wide with shock. They had already seen Charlie's machete materialize earlier, and now the stone. They knew this wasn't normal.
"What the hell—where'd that come from?" the shorter pirate, a wiry man with two daggers in hand, yelled, his voice shaky. His eyes darted toward the larger man beside him. "I told you! He's pulling stuff out of nowhere!"
The larger pirate, far more composed, hefted a massive ax onto his shoulder and grunted. His towering frame cast a long shadow across the room, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "You think I'm as dumb as the others? I'm not like them." His grin widened as he spoke, clearly enjoying the moment. "I've got a bounty of more than 5 million berries on my head. You think some weirdo in a gas mask can take me down?"
His boast filled the room with an air of arrogance as he stepped forward, twirling his ax in a wide arc. "I know your tricks now, but I'm not so stupid. You can't pull one over on me!"
With a roar, he swung the ax down with terrifying force. Charlie reacted just in time, jerking back as the ax slammed into the wooden pillar he had been gripping, slicing clean through it. The top half of the pillar fell with a crash, narrowly missing Charlie by inches.
[Contact with object maintained. Storage process continuing. Time remaining: 2 minutes 45 seconds.]
Charlie exhaled in relief, switching hands quickly to grip the remaining part of the pillar. Even with half of it gone, it still counts? he thought, realizing he still had a chance.
The larger pirate, seeing his ax cut through the pillar but not his opponent, took a cautious step back, no longer underestimating Charlie's abilities. His grin widened, but there was a wariness in his eyes now. "Come on, then. Let's see what you've got."
Charlie lunged forward, seemingly making a wild strike. The pirate, having witnessed what had happened to his fallen comrades, grinned and stepped back again, staying out of Charlie's reach. "Nice try. I'm not falling for that one, either."
But instead of a machete, what appeared in Charlie's hand this time was a can of pepper spray.
Before the larger pirate could react, Charlie aimed it straight at his face and pressed down hard on the nozzle. A jet of spray hit the pirate's eyes, and his triumphant grin turned into a howl of pain. He stumbled backward, clawing at his face, blinded and incapacitated.
"My eyes! Damn it!" he bellowed, swinging his ax wildly as he staggered, completely disoriented.
The shorter pirate, who had watched the entire thing unfold, stood frozen, his face a mask of confusion and fear. His eyes darted between his blinded companion and the strange man in the gas mask.
[Hostile neutralized.Time remaining for retrieval: 2 minutes.]
Charlie's heart raced, but his grip on the pillar remained firm. The clock was ticking, but he knew he needed to hold on just a little longer. The shorter pirate looked ready to pounce, but the shock of seeing his larger comrade taken down so easily had clearly rattled him.
The smaller pirate's face twisted in horror as he looked down at the bodies of his fallen comrades. But that horror quickly gave way to fury. His eyes blazed with hate as he turned toward Charlie.
"You bastard! I've seen enough of you!" he spat, his voice thick with rage. "The only reason you've won so far is because you keep pulling out these damn tricks. You're slow, and you don't have much strength, either. But there's something you're hiding." He pointed his dagger at Charlie, eyes narrowing. "Even when you're fighting for your life, you haven't let go of that pillar. That's it, isn't it? To use your power, you have to keep touching that damn thing with your skin!"
Charlie's breath hitched. He's guessing... but he's right about one thing.
"I saw you take off your glove before switching hands!" the pirate yelled, the realization dawning on him. Without waiting for a response, the smaller pirate lunged, his daggers gleaming as he closed the distance.
Charlie's mind raced. He was shocked at how close the pirate's guess had been, even if most of it was wrong. He's right about the skin contact. I need it for the storage process.
Just as the pirate was mid-jump, Charlie made his last large stone appear between them, blocking their view of each other. The pirate was agile, far more so than his fallen comrades. He twisted mid-air, changing his trajectory and kicking the stone with all his might, sending it flying toward Charlie.
Charlie barely had time to react. The massive stone hurtled toward him, and he had no choice but to duck out of the way finally letting go of the pillar. The stone slammed into it, shattering the remaining wood and sending splinters flying. Charlie fell hard onto his back, gasping for breath as he stared at the smashed pillar.
The pirate landed lightly, laughing as he saw Charlie down. "I was right, wasn't I? You need that pillar for your power to work. Without it, you're nothing!"
Charlie exhaled, his heart pounding. There was no use hiding it now. "You're right," he admitted, his voice steady. "I do need to touch things with my skin for this to work."
The pirate's grin widened as he prepared to attack again. "I knew it! You're done for!"
But Charlie wasn't finished. "You only got one thing wrong," he added, pointing down at his feet. "My hands aren't the only place I have skin."
The pirate's eyes widened as he looked down, seeing Charlie's bare feet, free of the boots he had been wearing earlier. Before the pirate could respond, a series of notifications from the Oracle flashed in Charlie's mind.
[Storage process complete. Ship retrieval successful.]
[Quest Complete]
[Exploit Discovered]
The pirate's grin froze as the entire ship suddenly disappeared from beneath them. Both Charlie and the pirate were suspended in mid-air for a split second, the ocean rising up fast to greet them. They plunged toward the water, the cold, dark sea rushing up from below.
Charlie barely had time to take a breath before he hit the water, the shock of the icy depths enveloping him. The raft, still tied to the former slaves, was yanked violently upward as the ship vanished, sending them and the raft crashing into the surface of the sea.
All around, pirates—at least ten of them—began falling from various parts of the ship, their screams echoing in the chaos as they plunged toward the ocean. The once-quiet night erupted into chaos as bodies hit the water, the sea swallowing them whole.