[162] A Hammer of Vengeance

[3930 words]

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"Hammer told me, just days before he was killed, that his son was enslaved before his very eyes. That son… that's you, isn't it? Quentin Kraft!"

Upon hearing his name, Kraft found the energy to move his head toward the mystery pirate. In turn, his own face was also discernible now. 

He was in his late twenties, though due to the conditions of the Starvation Hell, he was at death's door: dried-up and cracked skin, pale and haggard face and protruding bones from the lack of food and water. His condition also highlighted the many scars decorating his back and chest. Whips, stabbings, and burn marks were the primary contenders. 

.

Damien smiled at the sight of the man's attention. "I'm going to set sail under my own crew very soon, but no crew can be without a ship, and no ship can be without a shipwright."

"Do you want to get out of here, Kraft?" the pirate questioned. 

The broken man, Quentin Kraft, closed his eyes; his breathing had spiked more than his dried heart could support. 

He remembered how the previous decades had gone; it all came back within a few sentences that determined his fate…

"You damn brute! How dare you refuse a God! Cipher Pol…enslave this brute's son for me, hehe, now you'll know the price of disrespecting a Celestial Dragon! Your entire island will have my fury!"

He remembered his father's distraught face while chains were placed around his limbs and a remote explosive to his neck.

Years passed while he was marked with the Claw of the Dragon on his back and assumed the role of subhuman. His daily life consisted of being subjected to the whims of a Saint who was particularly fond of pushing the limits of human pain.

"Ehehehe! That's it. Get to work! If you wanna blame anyone, blame your pops, brat! Once you're old enough, I'm gonna make you carry me on your back like the dog you are!"

The snapping whip on his back and the electric baton jamming into his chest had become normal. And as he grew older, his saintly owner grew bored.

"Cheh, you're so tiny… I hoped you'd go big and burly like that Hammer guy. What a pity. Cipher Pol! I'm tired of this toy. Let him think over his father's sins in Impel Down!"

And just like that, three mandates uttered by a god had damned him in Starvation Hell. But it also allowed a certain Underworld Emperor to find his traces and report it to the Sin Incarnate…

.

Years of chains and scars had hardened him, but this—the faint promise of revenge—brought a tremor of life back to his broken spirit. Each lash, every dark memory branded across his back, burned anew, pulling him into the present.

"Revenge," Kraft mouthed, the word barely audible but weighted with decades of torment.

Damien hummed, unsurprised.

It was a simple yet powerful reason to persist in life in the One Piece World. Though it seldom ended well.

With a nod, the Sin Incarnate replied, "I can give you a chance at it, but a wise man once said, 'Know before embarking on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.'"

Watching from the side, Ares seemed quite pleased by the words and nodded. "A good saying. Which wise man said it?"

"Didn't I just say it?"

"…" Ignoring his speechless father, Damien extended his left arm through the gaps of the prison bars.

"You may feel life slipping away now," he said, his voice calm, "but consider this your chance to reclaim it." In his hand appeared a Devil Fruit, deceptively simple in appearance—a bright red apple with faint, mystical swirls that concealed an unimaginable power.

.

The apple fell in the eyes of the lifeless Kraft, bringing a yearning fire to break.

"Zoan-type, Human-Human Fruit," Damien introduced the ability he got from Wano. "Mythical Model of the First Man Adam."

"It will return your weak and withered body to its very peak of humankind. Follow me from now on, and I'll give you what you seek."

The magnetic words drew Kraft's attention, replaying again and again in his mind.

He had been here for over a decade, drying away and turning into a living corpse. Now, there was the bright light at the end of the tunnel, yet it was so bright that it left him apprehensive.

A string of life flooded out from his chest and came in the form of words, escaping his mouth that was as dry as a camel's tongue in the middle of a desert.

"A-Am I selling my soul to a demon…?"

Damien narrowed his eyes with a curious smile. He could sense that Kraft held some prejudices against pirates, credit to his childhood years. Yet all that precipitated significant loss and broken dreams, which were easy to exploit.

*Thwung!* The door flung open as the undying pirate entered, holding the mystical apple in the shrivelled-up Kraft's face.

The broken man's eyes locked onto the Devil Fruit while the voice of his 'saviour' echoed in his mind: "Once you're in hell, only the devil can help you."

"!!!" Kraft suddenly forgot the pain and weakness as every fiber of his being was commanding him to reach out.

An image of the burly and brash Quentin Hammer came to mind, forever telling his boy to seek great heights. "You worry too much, kid! If you want something, just go for it! I raise you in hopes you can forge the vessel to tame the seas! Dream a little!"

And so he did.

The bony hand slowly reached out from the floor, stretching with audible cracks and creaks as the fingers cupped the fruit. With great zeal, Kraft placed the apple in his mouth and bit down.

'You're gone…but won't dishonour your memory, old man!'

*Munch* The overpowering and disgusting taste was ignored as Kraft had no energy left to comment on it.

Bite after bite, he gulped down the fruit.

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Damien returned to his father's side, patiently watching as the fruit disappeared into the prisoner. Ares smirked in appreciation of Kraft's determination. "I like this one," he applauded.

"!!!" 

A surge of life suddenly churned in Kraft's body.

The pulsating feeling rang down his entire body, from his muscles to his tendons and bones. His heartbeat drummed without stop, boasting great strength and rejuvenation. Vitality returned to Kraft's face as the deep shrivels and cracked skin began to mend, springing with life.

His bone-like arms swelled, his deflated chest popped, and his entire body began to grow. The seas of scars decorating his back and chest faded and faded until they disappeared—he was reborn!

He stood up, feeling the strength and energy coursing through his veins. Kraft also felt much taller, and it was true. He jumped from a measly 6' 2" to a somewhat respectable 8' 2", growing two feet (1.88 m → 2.49 m)!

The great shock was visible in his eyes as he muttered, "I-I can speak without losing my sense of thought, all these years of torture from this terrible heat… All remedied within moments…"

Damien nodded at the fruit's magical nature. "Adam was said to have been the best of humans. You are now the first human personified, granting you vast talents in all fields, boosting a normal person like yourself into something truly special."

Kraft heard the unbelievable words and had no choice but to believe them. He looked past the bars of the cell and met his saviour's eyes. "Although I don't know who you are and what you plan for the seas… I will fulfill my promise! My old man's legacy lives with me now!"

"..."

Damien examined the reborn Kraft. He had short silver hair that was kept upwards. His face was of a young man, brimming with life.

"Your father did what he dreamed of: he built a ship that could carry the pirates that would burn the World Government down."

Kraft listened in silence, allowing the pirate to continue. "But that dream of his was forged under the embers of the hellish life he had to endure after your capture. An honest dream darkened into hatred for the World Government, corrupting his mind."

"Much like his dream, the Titanic he made was brought down in a blazing glory."

Damien sighed, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Though I can respect a man dying for his greatest wishes, I also can't help but think what a waste of life it is." He glanced at the quiet Kraft, "I'm not asking you to swallow your anger at the World Government; just don't let it define you."

"Unlike the Titanic, I want something that can not only face off against the might of the World Government but also a ship that can sail into the eras to come, conquering everything in their wake!"

*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*

Damien walked into the cell again, standing arm's distance from the reinvigorated Kraft, looking down at the much shorter man.

"So tell me, Quentin Kraft. Can you do that?"

A bright fire lit up in the man's eyes as he heard the booming remarks. The lost passion and dreams returned in waves, washing Kraft away into a sea of ambition.

His blue eyes grew firm, ultimately accepting his newfound identity. "I'll do it!" he loudly proclaimed.

Damien hummed, noticing the burning fire in the man's eyes.

"Alright then," he replied, exiting the cell. "My name is Einar D. Damien, call me Captain from now on."

.

The two made their way out of the torn-up cell, bathing in the starving heat of the floor.

Boom!

A thick hand slapped Damien's back, ringing it like a gong. "I must say, you have an eye for talent!" Ares laughed.

"You don't have to infuse Haki to pat my back," the younger pirate quipped.

Damien then began walking away, caring little about the groans and wails from the cells nearby. Ares was just as casual, staying at his son's side.

Kraft gulped at the desolate land, somewhat stunned. "Are we… just going to walk out?"

"Keep up now."

…

[Floor One]

Crimson Hell was known for its needle grass and blade trees, which made it a living hell for its prisoners. However, the current battle had terraformed it into a flat plain.

"Morararara!"

The giant Mors walked through a horde of jailers, breathing in the duel with great enthusiasm. 

"Brother, w-what are you doing!?"

The exchange took place between two brothers, both jailers. 

"Auhhh!" The older one slashed at his biological brother with a swish, cutting his head off. 

"No, Nooo! H-How did it turn out like this?" the sibling killer murmured, his face pale.

Such things took place throughout the floor: fellow jailers turned on one another, cutting and shooting each other. Yet after each kill, the killers would weep and cry from their actions. 

"I-It's the escaped convict. He's doing this!"

The veteran jailer rushed through the area, slashing his weapon at the enemy five times taller than himself.

His swinging sword gave birth to a geyser of fresh, warm blood. It exploded like a fountain, bathing the jailer with crimson juice. 

"I-I got him!" he celebrated with crazed eyes.

*Wururu* However, the man was a little taken aback by the endless sea of blood bursting from his disintegrating enemy, swirling like it had a mind of its own.

"You fool, he's obviously an ability user!"

Before the jailer could react, a swarm of warm blood spiralled into the shape of Mors, standing behind his attacker. 

"Aughh!"

The man cried in pain as a red spike burst out from his chest, holding him to the sky while his insides fell to the outsides.

"Morararara! I haven't taken a life in thirty years!!!"

Bullets fired, swords slashed, yet the pirate simply reformed, cutting apart his enemies. 

.

While the jailers were distraught from the Bloodspawn's carnage, another fellow escapee was making her move: a bright flare suddenly went off, pure white in colour, blinding a battalion of guards on the other side of the floor. 

"He's having too much fun," a woman's voice broke out. "Logia-type: Blood-Blood Fruit—it's quite the primal ability."

It was Herja who was watching Mors' massacre.

The most obvious power of the Blood Fruit was that it gave its users control of the blood of others, bending it to their will.

"I suppose I cannot blame him for letting loose… Those cuffs were unnecessarily tightened." The woman turned back to her battle, bringing up great holiness from her body.

"My eyes!"

"So bright, it's brighter than my future!"

The blinding light came with a burst of energy, taking the guards into the air and instantly knocking them out. 

"S-So beautiful…!"

"She's an Angel!"

"Maybe we should let her free!"

The jailers watched in horrified awe as Herja's form shifted, her pale skin illuminating with an ethereal glow that seemed to cast the shadows back. Majestic wings unfurled from her back, feathers sharp and shimmering with gold as if forged from celestial fire. Her armour gleamed like molten metal, and as she rose, a crown of light erupted above her, casting a blinding halo that seemed almost too pure, too divine for the darkness of their prison. 

[Transformed Herja Image (in Discord)]

…

A tormented Ponos arrived to see two Level Six disasters obliterate their way through Crimson Hell, leaving hundreds of his men dead.

*Clack* The cane tapped the floor, carrying the hunched weight of the Chief Warden. "Such a combination of devastating pirates. Truly an unforgivable mishap on my part."

Before anyone knew it, all but Ponos was left to deal with them on this floor.

"I will die before you can step foot beyond the walls of Impel Down," he declared, his aged body coiling with an eerie purple glow. 

"Suit yourself," Mors quipped back, grinning savagely, his crimson skin pulsated with warmth.

At the same time, a wave of unease flashed on the Warden's face. 'Have they not yet received my emergency message?'

Herja, who was truly a sacred existence, couldn't help but smile with disdain. "Stalling is useless. I've jammed all your signals to Marineford with my light. No one will come to save you."

Ponos' grip over his cane tightened, much like the noose around his neck. "I assumed your ability would have run dry after all these years since your capture…"

The Fallen Angel bloomed with a proud smile, waving her divine wings. "My Faith-Faith Fruit may be bound by my followers, but what gave you the illusion that the Valkyrie Pirates were my only worshipers?"

The angel moved aside a few loose strands of her platinum-white hair, locking onto the lanky Warden, "The Celestial Dragons aren't the only ones who can make the fools of the Outer Seas accept their divinity."

"…" a grim air befell the floor, followed by a sigh from Ponos.

"Come on then." Ponos' eyes sharpened as he shot forth, his cane swinging with a violet light.

"Don't get in my way, Herja!" Mors smirked, slamming his maroon fist forth, carrying the weight of three decades of tolerance.

BAM!

…

Three more escapees soon arrived at the scene of the crime.

Damien stood with his father to his left and a changed Kraft to his right. 

The Sin Incarnate clicked his tongue at the devastation. What used to be a nightmare filled with prickly red needled trees to torment its inmates had quickly transformed into a flatland of dust and debris.

At its core was a disfigured Ponos embedded into a crater with a tree spiking out from his chest. His supposed murderer, Mors, stood tall with bruises over his fists. 

"The all-powerful offscreen Haki," Damien said under his breath.

"Impel Down has been inescapable since it was built. Their guard had dropped in quality," the giant man stated, calming down the blood surging through his veins.

The angelic Herja was as proud as she was divine in her angel form, gracefully floating in the air. She was the first to notice the anomaly: "Ponos. You're still breathing?"

The miserable Warden opened his tired eyes, feeling the metallic taste in his mouth, but it was the least of his worries.

"Hoh? As expected of the Pain-Pain Fruit… its user is also a tough egg to crack."

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A sudden, desperate cry resounding across the first floor attracted everyone's attention: "Leave him alone!"

It came from a child no more than ten years of age. He was awfully tall for his age, the youth reflecting off the stoic face. 

Kraft narrowed his eyes, recalling whispers he heard while being locked up. "I heard Ponos was raising a kid he found floating in the Calm Belt. He has grown up."

"M-Magellan!" Ponos managed to speak. "I told you to stay put…!"

Damien hummed at the child, who shared a striking resemblance to the future Warden of Impel Down. 

"You want to stop us, kid?" 

The tall child harrumphed, his face turning furious.

*Gurrup* Thick purple miasma began coursing out of his body, falling onto the floor with a sizzling sound—it was pure toxin! 

"Oh, another crowd-control ability," Ares said with a smirk. 

*Szzz* The thick purple fluid flowed from the boy's pores, bubbling with harrowing sounds. 

"Morarara, this brat has balls, but he is far away from playing at this stage."

Damien glanced to the side, "Show me what you can do with that rifle."

Naturally, the man he was talking to was Quentin Kraft. 

Kraft, who had ransacked the jailer's locker room to find some more comfortable clothes, sporting a brown jacket over a white shirt. Gray cargo pants with dark boots and gloves. 

Around his head was a bandana and goggles, pushing up his silver-coloured hair. He had also picked up a vintage weapon, a sniper rifle, from a guard's locker.

[Quentin Kraft Image (in Discord)]

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"My old man taught me to shoot at pirates before they could make land decades ago. For some reason, I feel like I can shoot a hundred times better now," he muttered to himself. 

The rifle was aimed at the bubbling Magellan, Kraft's bright eyes shining through the scope. His concentration sharpened far beyond what a normal human could.

Bang!

A shot lacking hesitation, zooming across and nailing the monstrous Magellan in the chest. 

*Splash*

A burst of purple poison ate up the bullet. 

But it wasn't over yet. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Kraft's aim was top-notch. There was not even a single degree of visible recoil. He pulled the trigger in a continuous and fluid motion, sending out three shots. 

The poison exploded once more, slowly deepening the crater forming at Magellan's chest. 

"Guns don't work on me!" Magellan roared, rushing ahead with his monstrous figure. 

Kraft felt the impending threat, yet oddly enough, his hands were even more stable, his eyes firmer. Without conscious thought, his fingers danced over the rifle, reloading with an effortless speed and mastery honed over countless battles. "He could've fooled me as a Logia..."

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The rate of fire was more accurate than any robot could impose, and the precision of each bullet was flawless. 

Each projectile hit the exact same mark at Magellan's sternum, slowly digging deeper and deeper through the thick coat of poison. 

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three more shots and the copious amounts of the corrosive liquid had splattered enough to open a small window where Magellan's chest was exposed.

Bang!

One last shot and the blitzing figure of Magellan paused in the air. "Ugh!" The young boy groaned, feeling a hole in his torso. 

He clawed at his chest, which began dripping with fresh blood. 

"Y-You!"

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The bullets found their way past the gaps of the poison-flooded fingers, digging their way into the future Warden's chest and lungs. 

Magellan collapsed, his body falling with a loud clang. 

"…"

Kraft lowered the sniper rifle, shock visible on his face. "What the hell…" he murmured. 

*Smack* Damien's giant hand slapped his back, ringing him like a bell. "I told you that fruit bumps all your qualities to superhuman levels. Looks like your affinity with guns is pretty good."

His Captain's words brought Kraft out of his reverie. He slightly nodded, his mind swelling with shock, "Devil fruits really are truly incredible."

Ponos gnashed his teeth, finding the strength to raise his broken right arm in Magellan's direction. Each movement sent jolts of agony through him, but he forced his focus, channelling the depths of his pain.

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"...Sorrow Step."

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As he locked onto Magellan, the weight of his sorrow became a conduit, allowing him to bend reality just enough to fade Magellan from his place, teleporting him away in a surge of tortured willpower.

"You still have that much energy in you!?" Mors grumbled, slamming his giant foot onto Ponos' stomach.

Damien watched it all, examining the Pain Fruit user saving his pupil. With curiosity, he ambled ahead, walking till he was a meter from the grunting Warden.

"You channelled your grief and emotional pain from losing your protege, allowing your fruit to undo your worries…" he surmised, crouching down to look the man in the eyes. "Is that your Awakening?"

"That boy is the future of Impel Down… My death means little. Now go ahead and end me, pirate scum."

The Sin Incarnate chuckled at the man accepting death. "Don't worry. Your ability will not be forgotten like your life is soon to be."

The others watched Damien extending his arm toward the fallen jailkeeper.

The cracking skin followed by the absurd sight…

"It will never cease to amaze me," Herja sighed, shaking her head in envy as she saw Damien extract the Pain-Pain Fruit.

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Meanwhile, Ares was having a discussion with the triumphant Kraft. "You can take down a brat, but without training, that talent is useless against real enemies."

The silver-haired escapee deeply exhaled, glancing at the Blood-human and Angel-woman next to his Captain. "Right… I'm still no match for the real monsters."

Damien extricated himself from the dead Warden's crater, addressing Kraft as he walked over: "I came looking for a shipwright and found a sniper and shipwright combo. It's not a bad find."

"Let's go outside now."

The band of pirates walked right outside with no care in the world.

As of now, Damien could be compared as the top-level threat in the world and was backed up by the likes of Ares, Mors and Herja; their combined power was enough to tear apart the New World.

…

With a firm nod, Damien led the group toward the exit, the oppressive darkness of the prison behind them. They stepped through the heavy doors, the chill of confinement fading as the distant sounds of the sea grew louder.

As they crossed the threshold, the blinding light hit Kraft like a wave, washing over him with warmth and vibrancy. The stark contrast from the cold, damp air of the Starvation Hell to the bright, sunlit world outside was overwhelming.

"I haven't tasted fresh sunlight in twenty years!" Kraft fell to his knees as they clanged onto the wooden floor.

Kraft inhaled deeply, the fresh sea air filling his lungs like life itself. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the weight of his newfound freedom, tears of bitterness and resolve trailing down his face. "Old man, I will finish what you started. You can rest in peace soon enough!" He looked over at his Captain, the reality settling in—he would build something the world would remember.

"I will definitely make it," he promised with thunderous resolve. "A ship that can conquer the seas!"

To Be Continued…

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Author's Corner.

Damien, Ares, Mors, Herja and Kraft have tasted free air once again. Recall the Adam Fruit gifted to Damien at Wano by Sukiyaki. Through Damien, Kraft sees a way to reclaim his identity, pay tribute to his father's legacy, and turn his suffering into strength.

What do you think is the first thing Damien will do with his freedom?

Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q