Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Baterilla, South Blue

"Here you are sir." The bombshell of a brunette spoke as she replaced my empty glass with a full one. "Your scallops should be out in just a few more minutes. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

I take a moment to sip at the refill, luxuriating in the way the delicious blend of pineapple, citrus and rum swirls over my tongue. A contented sigh passes over my lips and I set the mixed drink back down on the cabana table next to me.

"Yes, there is one thing actually." My left hand slides playfully under my chin and I summon what I hope is a roguish smile. "You still haven't given me your name."

The waitress giggles lightly but a part of me isn't sure if it's an act or not. "My apologies sir. It's against business policy to flirt with customers."

"Flirting? Who's flirting?" I laugh off. "I'm just asking my stunning young server for her name."

"It's Laika." she finally says with a minor roll of her eyes.

"See. That wasn't so hard was it? Now if I was doing this 'flirting' as you so accuse, this would be the part where I offer to make you dinner tonight."

"You cook?" She asks with an actual genuine hint of surprise. "I thought you said you were a bounty hunter."

I take a moment to reposition myself in my seat, scoring a mental victory when her eyes briefly flick down to watch my bare muscled chest. "Haven't you ever heard the phrase 'a Jack of all trades'?" I supply smoothly. "I'm the one they've been talking about."

A challenging smile plays on her face, hinting at a sharp and mischievous intellect that I just know wants to come out for some fun. "Isn't the rest of that quote about being 'a master of none'?"

"Though ofttimes better than a master of one." I complete. "If you'd like, I would be happy to demonstrate proof of my above averageness in a...variety of categories...later this evening."

"Maybe… but then again maybe not." Laika stands up straight and gives the smallest of bows from her head. "If that is everything sir, I'll go check on your food."

The brunette turns away and struts back to the beachside restaurant, giving me a truly delectable view of her derriere in the process.

"Cheeky minx." I mutter beneath my breath. That extra sway in her hips is definitely on purpose. Maybe my terrible flirting skills have worked for once. Maybe she's just humoring me in hopes of getting a nice tip. Either way, I'm having a fun time.

I settle back into my sun lounger and stretch my arms behind my head with a comfortable sigh.

This place is amazing. I think my 42 LUK is showing because I could not have dreamed for a better vacation spot. White sandy beach. Drop-dead gorgeous woman bringing me drinks. Cabanas available for rent just 30 meters from the waters edge.

This island is the fucking good life.

Now you may be wondering why I bothered with that whole farce about not knowing my waitresses name...but you see, the thing is...I actually didn't.

Just before arriving here on Baterilla, I was digging around in the [Game]'s [Options] and found all sorts of interesting items. To name a few, there was an [Archive] that let me review past pop-ups the [Game] has presented to me, a [Statistics] log detailing where each piece of Exp I've acquired originated from, and most curiously of all, a toggle switch for titles [ON/OFF].

I say curiously because when I first saw it I thought, 'That's dumb. Why would anyone ever want to get rid of titles outside of some sick thrill of making life harder?'

But then the thought occurred to me.

I'm on vacation!

Shouldn't I have five or six days to myself where I don't have to think about quests, or grinding, or having to worry about the life story of every person I pass on the road?

SO! For this week, I am off the clock! It's just me, my personal hammerspace containing over 10 million in cash, drinks on the beach, and hopefully some time with the oh-so-lovely Ms. Laika.

Besides. If for some reason a situation did arise requiring titles be back [ON], it would take me all of five seconds to fix it.

So no worries.

'Ah. And here comes my plate of scallops.'

Laika sets the tray down on the table beside me and I breathe deep as the foods rich scent fills my nose.

'The good life indeed.'

The sudden jerk nearly rips the rod out of my hands. "Shitshitshitshit." I curse as the force of the pull actually slides me across the fishing pier.

I throw a boot up, stabilizing myself against a bollard, and while its enough to stop the crisis of myself meeting the water, my rod is now bending down at an angle it was definitely not designed to sustain.

'Holy mother of fuck something huge is on the other end of this line!'

I rip back against my unseen adversary, pulling the rod up and cranking slowly against the reel.

Three and a quarter turns is all I manage before the strength on the other side increases to equal mine. The handle jams up and the two us wage war at a complete standstill.

Some of the other fisherman are beginning to wander closer to watch my struggle, as is the norm when any man gets a fish on.

"Looks like something's making a run on you." One jokes as he claps me on the back.

My face slightly reddens in effort, "You don't say." I bit back sarcastically.

"I told 'im not to cast that far out." I overhear a second whisper to a third. "Blue gets real deep once you pass 300 meters. Who knows what you'll hook."

"He cast over 300?" the third mutters back. "Shiiiit, my average is more like 75."

"...should probably just cut the line. No point exhausting yourself." A fourth chimes in unhelpfully.

"Gabe's got it right." the first one speaks again. "Whatever you've got is too big for a reel. You're just wasting energy."

"I...ain't...cutting..the...goddamn...line!" I growl out in parts. 'Nuh-uh. No way! Jack don't give up that easy.'

[Adrenalin Rush] Activated!

STR (135 +70%) → (229.5)

The boost activates and I start reeling in like a madman. 'I got ya now fish. Jackie's got you now!'

A great geyser erupts out in the distance and through the fountain of water and ocean foam...I see it.

Jumping high out of the water and thrashing wildly to shake off its hook is a positively gorgeous turquoise colored marlin.

17 feet from dorsal to tail minimum. Its bigger, badder, and more beautiful than any of its cousin species back on Earth.

'And it's going to be mine!'

I keep cranking the reel, silently hoping the heavy-duty line doesn't snap on its own...when my small window dries up.

Alert! [Adrenalin Rush] has expired!

STR (229.5) → (135)

'No no come on! I almost had him!' The marlin senses my weakening and renews its fights with a vengeance. I can see the splashes from its flailing out on the horizon and once again the two of us are caught in a deadlock.

Two of the fisherman grab at the neck of my rod and try to help pull it in. "What'd you stop for!" The one named Gabe shouts. "You were winning!"

My jaw clamps down as I push harder on the reel arm. Even just getting half a turn has me sweating and grunting with strain.

'I need the boost [Game]! I get three a day! Gimme the damn boost!'

[Adrenalin Rush] Activated!

STR (135 +70%) → (229.5)

A maniacal laugh rips from my throat as I overpower my prize again. The beast gets dragged closer and closer to the shallows and I see that my initial estimate of 17 feet was...conservative...This big ol' bastard is looking more like 22 or 23.

That's just about quadruple the size that fat businessmen hang on their office walls. Somebody needs to tell them to man up and get on my level!

[Adrenalin Rush] fades away again but by then the work is basically done. It's close enough to the shore now that all I need to do is start walking backwards to drag it in, with perhaps a little assistance from my fellow anglers.

All the sun tanners and beach goers have cleared out of the way as the monster crests over the final wave and flops down on the sand. I reel in the last bit of line and gaze upon the fish with no shortage of personal satisfaction.

Ding!

You've caught a rare fish!

+10 Exp!

'Oh gee whiz! Thanks [Game]! A whole 10 Exp! I'll be sure not to spend it all in one place!'

I'm not sure why I'm getting all sassy with the [Game]. It's not like I was expecting a prize in the first place.

I guess it's kind of like receiving 50 cents for a job you were going to do for free. It makes the whole achievement feel...cheapened.

"Hey!" I shout to the onlooking crowd and my brand new fishing buddies. "Who wants to help me fillet this bad boy?"

I knock back another swig while the crowd sings their part. I could lie and say that the alcohol burns but... honestly? I'm so far gone I don't even taste the booze anymore.

Now I've had some good times in this new second life of mine. Been to some parties. Shared a drink or two at more than one friendly get-together. But not once though, not a single time, have I allowed myself to truly cut loose.

To throw all caution and good sense out the window and have a night where I get completely, utterly, out for the count, three sheets to the wind, shitfaced.

And there's my cue again!

~Oftentimes have we laid out, toil nor danger fearing.~

~Tugging out the flapping sail, to the weather earring.~

Barely a blink passes before the chorus kicks in on its own,

~Long we've tossed on the rolling main, now we're safe ashore, Jaaack.~

~Don't forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-doe!~

The bartender trades me two bottles for another wad of cash and I sweep across the room, refilling every drained mug I see,

~When the middle watch was on, and the time went slow, boy,~

~Who could choose a rousing stave, who like Jack or Joe, boy?~

~Long we've tossed on the rolling main, now we're safe ashore, Jaaack.~

~Don't forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-doe!~

I wonder if [HP Regen] helps with hangovers...meh that's tomorrows problem..

~There she swings, an empty hulk, not a soul below now.~

~Number seven starboard mess, misses Jack and Joe now.~

~Long we've tossed on the rolling main, now we're safe ashore, Jaaack.~

~Don't forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-doe!~

My arms swing out, sloshing the remaining drink onto a patrons arm who cheerily laughs it off,

~But the best of friends must part, fair or foul the weather.~

~Hand yer flipper for a shake, now a drink together.~

The final verse hits and the whole tavern goes absolutely nuts.

~Long we've tossed on the rolling main, now we're safe ashore, Jaaack.~

~Don't forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-doe!~

~O' long we've tossed on the rolling main, now we're safe ashore, Jaaack.~

~Don't forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee ryyye-dooooeeee!~

The song ends and the bar explodes into an uncontrolled raucous of whoops, cheers, and table banging. Glasses are clinked together, laughing fits are still going strong, and soon patrons are slapping their hands down demanding another, and well..who am I to disappoint them?

"Okay okay okay." I drunkenly slur, shaking my hands in front of me. "Who knows this one? Jump in when you know the words!"

I climb atop the nearest table -nearly falling on my own ass while doing so- and drunkenly wobble for a moment as I struggle for balance. A deep breath fills my chest and my boot begins tapping to a beat that I was praying the people of this world would somehow recognize.

And when the entire room started grinning, that prayer was rewarded.

~What will we do with a drunken sailor?~

~What will we do with a drunken sailor?~

~What will we do with a drunken sailor?~

"EARLY IN THE MORNING!" the crowd roars.

A tiny golden bell jingles from the door opening and the smith behind the counter looks up from his work. "Ah. Welcome back Mr. Parker." he greets, removing his eye loupe.

"Evening Pascal." I smile back. "Any luck?"

The gentleman shrugs lightly in a so-so manner. "For the most part. The sketches you lent me, while a bit rough, did go a long way in helping me visualize the components. I'm still having a little trouble with the internal spring but I have a mockup you can look at."

"Sure." I chirp. "Let's see what you got."

Pascal reaches down to the space beneath his counter and plucks a small item from inside of it. He holds it up to me and I whistle in appreciation.

'Yep. That's a speedloader.'

"Well color me impressed. I didn't think you could manage it in less than three days."

The smith shrugs again. "Ehhh… business was slow. And I wouldn't say I managed it. As I said, the spring still isn't right. Right now this is just a metal ring with six holes in it. Not really good for much."

I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. "Still. It's good progress. I'm sure you'll have it down before I leave. What do I owe you?"

The tinkerer frowns. "Typically I don't accept payment for custom work until its finished. There's also the matter that this item is so much...smaller than my usual orders. Cost of parts was practically negligible. I'm honestly not sure what to charge you."

I lick my finger and start thumbing out bills. "Then how 'bout we say...25,000 and call it even?"

"T-that's way too much for something this small!" He objects somewhat frantically.

"Nonsense." I reply, laying the money on the counter. "You'll be really helping me out by getting this done." 'With pre-filled speedloaders available I'll be able to cut reload times down to two, maybe two and a half seconds. Actually, considering my DEX, I might manage even quicker than that. That kind of leg up on a potential enemy is worth well more than a measly 25,000.' "I'll swing by tomorrow afternoon to see how it's going."

"Yes yes of course." The man agrees. "While you're still here, I meant to ask. How many of these do you actually want? Just one for each gun?"

"I was thinking more like...nine or ten. Maybe a dozen. However many you can make really."

Both of his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "A dozen? Don't you think that's excessive?"

The golden bell jingles again as I open the door back to the street. "Luck favors the prepared. I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Pascal."

I step out into the sunlight and replace the black shades over my eyes. In my new holiday ensemble of khakis, sunglasses, and aloha-style shirt I can barely recognize myself in the reflection of other store windows.

"Now then...what next?" I ask aloud to myself, strolling down the sidewalk.

I'm at a bit of a loss on how to wrap up this little get away. I've eaten at a different restaurant every day. I've fished. I've drunk. I've shopped. I've proven to Laika that having over 100 VIT is no trifling matter in the bedroom. I'm pretty much out of things to do on my checklist.

Baterilla's got a jungle on the other side of it. I suppose I could go exploring while I wait for Pascal to finish his work. Speaking of, can I just say really quick how lucky of a find he was. I had pretty much resigned myself to whittling speedloaders out of wood at some point. A project that not only would be time consuming, but also would almost definitely have failed.

I mean, just think about it. I'd have to implement some sort of peg system for the locking mechanism and then...bah too much hassle. I'm glad to have found a metalworker deal with it for me.

"Watch where you're going old man!" A rude boorish voice yells out from the other side of the street.

"Uwah! Sorry! Sorry!" A lanky senior citizen stammers back as he tries to balance five flower pots in his hand. The back of his heel slides off the curb and I can already see the impending crash in my mind.

Two pots begin to spill from the pile but I've already crossed the distance to catch them. "Whoa whoa. I got ya gramps, don't worry."

The elderly man sighs in relief. "Oh thank you sonny. I couldn't quite see where I was going."

"It's no trouble. Where do you want these?" I ask, holding up the flowers in my hand.

He nods his head to the right. "Just drop 'em in the wagon over there please. I appreciate it."

I slide them into the back of the large rustic cart, packing them snugly next to the several dozen that have already been loaded up. "Why so many flowers? Filling a big order?"

"Oh," The shopkeep chuckles "The town pays me a little each month to make sure there's always something fresh decorating the cemetery. Not terribly exciting I'm sorry to say, but it's work."

The florist turns his head up to me with a wrinkled smile, "Say now. You seem like a strapping young lad. Would you mind helping me deliver these? I hate to ask but my usual assistant is off island at his brothers wedding and it's much easier work with two people."

Ding!

New Quest Alert!

Quest: It's always polite to assist your elders. Be a swell guy and help the old man deliver his flowers to where they need to go.

Reward: 100 Exp.

[ACCEPT/DECLINE]

I skim over the words and my brow creases over in contemplation.

'Dang it [Game].. I said no quests...this week is MY time...then again... I am just walking around doing nothing..'

I check my watch to give the illusion that I'm busy. Not for any particular reason. It's just what you do when a stranger asks you for a favor. "This won't take very long will it?"

The old timers grin widens, showing he's missing quite the number of teeth. "Not long not long. It's just a quick jaunt over the hillside and we're practically there. If you'd like I could throw a little Beri your way for the trouble. Not a lot but..."

I rub my neck in mild vexation. "No no, keep your money sir. Look...you swear this will be quick?"

"Absolutely absolutely." He nods vigorously. "Just let me get a few more pots from the back!"

As it turns out, a 'few more pots' actually meant well over two hundred and at some point I found myself hauling whole handfuls of garlands, festoons, and obviously flower pots into the back of this mans cart and packing them in like I'm 15 years old and it's my first summer job.

Just as I'm about to voice a complaint about this exercise already taking half an hour and we haven't even left the front porch of 'Mr.B's Flowers and Home Decor', the owner thankfully comes out and locks the door behind him.

"Sorry sorry. Just had to get one last piece." He speaks with a wreath of pink hibiscuses tucked protectively under his arm. "This one's special. No point in making the trip if I don't bring this one."

I make my way to the front of the cart and grab a firm hold of the handle. "You ready to go?"

"Yes yes. Best be on our way now." The man babbles as he slides up next to me. "Don't want to be out when the sun starts setting."

He told me that this would be quick. 'Just a jaunt over the hillside' he said.

That was an hour and 20 minutes ago though.

Nothing about this is quick. Can't go too fast or the cart might spill things out the back. Can't make sharp turns because the wheels are too old.

Oh and let's not forget that the hillside he mentioned is actually miles outside of town.

'Laugh it up [Game].' I silently stew, trudging the cart up a grassy knoll. 'You won. You got me to waste a whole evening of my vacation just by dangling 100 Exp like a carrot on some string.'

"Say now," The old man speaks up again. "I never actually got your name young man."

"It's Jack." I say, making only a token effort to hide how fed up with this whole situation I am.

He's either ignoring my sour attitude or mystifyingly hasn't picked up on it. "Well it's nice to make your acquaintence Jack. As for myself well, you can just call me Mr.B!" He says in far too chipper a manner. "Not my real name you understand but, heh heh no one's used that old thing in about...oh two decades now I suppose. I'm just Mr. B these days."

"Mmhmm." I hum back, only halfway paying attention. I take a quick peek over my shoulder, just to make sure nothings fallen out of the cart, 'I'd hate for this to take even longer.' and feel my eyes drawn to the 'special item' Mr .B had put in last.

"So gramps. Who's the wreath for?"

Mr.B looks up fondly. "Ohhh she was the most wonderful lady. Wit as quick as a spit and a fiery attitude to match."

"An old flame of yours maybe?" I tease with a light elbow to his side.

Mr. B nearly busts a gut laughing. "Oh no no no. Even 20 years ago I was far too old to have had a shot with a lass as young as she. I was always the eldest of my group of pals. Besides, she and a friend of mine were a much better match. Never before had I seen two people connect so perfectly and so quickly..." His smile fades and his chin falls downward. "It was truly tragic that it couldn't last."

I turn my head back to the road. 'Wow, talk about a mood killer.' "Well...she really sounds like something special."

The old shopkeep smiles with a tear in the corner of his eye. "She was a remarkable lady. One of the finest I've ever met."

The cemetery finally pulls into view just as the sky begins shifting to orange from the setting sun. Mr. B wastes no time -for once- and hops to work in unloading the cart and distributing fresh flora across the various gravestones and markers.

Meanwhile I'm wondering why the hell my [Quest] hasn't cleared yet. I bring up the text to review it again. '...deliver his flowers to where they...' I did that! Are you saying I need to actually help him set them up too?

'Damn it [Game]. You're wasting my time here. I really wanted to stop by and see when Laika gets off work tonight.'

Another hour passes by as Mr. B was very peculiar about what went where. 'You can't put daisies on Mrs. Costa's grave, she hated the color yellow', that sort of thing. Still, progress was progress and as the last blip of the sun was visible we finally finished.

"Is that all of them?"

"Almost..." Mr. B whispers as he raises up the wreath of hibiscuses. "Just one left."

He carries it slowly, affectionately, across to the opposite end of the cemetery where a single much more ornate gravestone faces the sea. Kept separate from all the others.

"Here you go ma'am." He whispers softly, resting the wreath of pink hibiscuses over the top of the shrine. "I tried a new fertilizer mix with these ones, though I still can't get them as vibrant as you did. Still, I hope you like them."

Ding!

Quest Complete!

Quest: It's always polite to assist your elders. Be a swell guy and help the old man deliver his flowers to where they need to go.

Reward: 100 Exp.

My shoulders visibly relax. 'Finally.'

"All right gramps. I'm gonna take off. Are you good pulling the cart back yourself?"

I circle around to the other side of the grave to read the epitaph….

...and nearly feel my blood turn to ice.

'PORTGAS D. ROUGE'

1469-1502

'Nothing is impossible

if it means saving

the one who matters most'

I try not to gape as my brain attempts to reboot itself. My eyes are darting rapidly between the headstone, the florist kneeling before it, back to the grave, back to the florist, and none of it is getting any clearer.

'Wha- I don't under-..who is..[Observe]!'

Braxton Berwynne, Retired Pirate, Lv. 118

While a humble and merry shopkeep these days, Berwynne once served as the Assistant Navigator on board the legendary pirate vessel, the Oro Jackson. In 1498 he accompanied his captain, Gol D. Roger, to Baterilla where-

Alert! Your targets Observation Haki has alerted them that you have done...something!

'Wait! WHAT!'

My panicked thoughts were cutoff as the old mans leg swooped around, hooked one of my ankles, and then ripped both feet out from under me. My head crashed painfully against the rocky ground and was then pinned there as the same leg pressed down into my throat.

Bullet Time Skill Active!

-Time is being slowed for you by 9%.

"What did you just do young man?" The now identified 'Berwynne' questioned with narrow eyes.

I try to wrench the shoe off of my throat but it refuses to budge a single inch. Whatever this old codgers strength is, it far supersedes my own. 'What the fuck! This is not happening! I did not just pull a fuck-up as bad as with Jorgen!'

[Adrenalin Rush] Activated!

STR (135 +70%) → (229.5)

Despite the [Perk]'s activation, there is no movement in Berwynne's hold, if anything the pressure on my windpipe tightens even further and I realize he has no intention of letting up until he gets an answer.

The need to breathe is rising and my brain defaults to the only answer I think he'll accept. "..d-devil fruit.." I weakly rasp out.

The ex-pirate eases up, just enough to let me breathe, and raises an eyebrow. "A Paramecia user…? What kind?" He demands. "What was that I just felt?"

With the force behind his hold lifted, I gently push his foot aside -or rather he allows me to- and start to rise. "It's an Observation Fruit.." I begin, "If I use it's power while looking at something- a person, a building, a ship, you get the idea- then I can learn a lot about that something."

The New World veterans gaze pierces straight through me and I realize that everything about the man has changed. His back is straighter. His face more taut. There is no hint at all remaining of the facade he was playing all afternoon. "Continue."

"When used on a person I can learn their name, some of their history, how powerful they are..."

My explanation is calm but internally I'm having the panic attack of my life. 'Is this a joke [Game]!? I try to take a week off for some 'me time' and you hit me with- with this! Also! What the hell's the deal with [Observe] being detectable by Haki! I get that the names are similar but that's no justification for-'

"I see." Berwynne speaks. "So..Jack was it?... What did you learn about me?"

I audibly gulp. 'Tell the truth. Don't tell the truth. Tell the truth. Don't tell the truth. Which one gets us out of this situation alive?'

"N-nothing that I would ever repeat to anyone else sir."

Berwynne smiles but it's nothing like the cheerful grin of 'Mr. B'. This one is hollow. Dangerous. "I've built a fine life here young man. It can be a bit dull at times admittedly, but I've grown quite fond of it. I enjoy it. And if people were to learn-"

"I won't tell anyone!" I spit out in a panic. "Not any townspeople, certainly not the Marines, I swear-"

"I know you're not." He cuts me off. "Because you are leaving this island tonight. I don't care how you do it or what it costs you, but If you're still here in the morning then you and I are going to have a problem."

I'm only nodding silently at this point. The fear of being on the bad side of someone nearly triple my level doesn't allow for anything else.

"You're going to forget every speck of what your Fruit taught you about me and if I so much as smell a Marine battleship heading for Baterilla then I will know exactly who to-" Berwynne stops talking and looks around confused. "Do you hear that?"

"H-hear what?" I stammer. A 60 piece orchestra could be playing on the next hill over and it would still be blocked out by the sound of my heart beating in my ears.

The ex-pirates eyes widen. "Cannon fire."

Berwynne zips back to the other side of the cemetery at a speed I can just barely follow and I -against my better judgment- rush to follow him.

When I catch up I can hear the audible grinding and gnashing of his teeth as he stares over the hillside in anger and out into the bay.

A pirate galleon with a massive yellow dinosaur skull as its figurehead has sailed into the harbor and is bombarding the shoreline with every gun it has. Several black specks that I can identify as rowboats have already deployed and are just minutes away from making landfall on the beachhead.

"Damnit damnit damnit," The retired pirate curses as he speeds off towards town, leaving me alone with the dead.

"Wa-Wait! I'm coming too!" 'Soru!'

[Skill Failed!]

"Son of a-! Gah-SORU!"

The rokushiki technique carries me far faster than I would move normally but It's still not enough to get to town before the raiders will. The darkness of night has fully settled in now but my view of the town is only getting clearer as fires are starting to spring up.

'Go faster! Go faster! Go faster!'

Skill Lv up! Rokushiki Technique # 1 of 6. (Soru). Lv. (9/50) → (10/50)

-One of the vaunted 'Six Powers'. By kicking the ground at least 10 times in an instant, users of this technique generate a force beneath their feet that sends them dashing forward at incredible speed. Masters of this [Skill] are able to move in any direction, combine it with other techniques, and can even briefly disappear from sight entirely.

Note: Due to your low level with this [Skill] there is a 35% chance the [Skill] will fail on use.

'Go faster! Go faster! Go faster!'

Entire sections of the settlement are ablaze. Whoever these fuckers are they care more about spreading chaos then getting rich.

I pass through the outer perimeter of the town with a trail of dust behind me. I'm racing down side streets trying to find some of the pillagers and it isn't long before I stumble upon two of them.

The first is medium height with an orange mohawk. Tiny black glasses obscure his eyes and a heavy tan coat is draped over his shoulders. His buddy is dressed just as oddly but in a radically different direction. A striped yellow uniform of some kind fully equipped with puffy shoulders and a spanish morion-style feathered cap that covers the top half of his face.

The two look like they'd be more at home at a rock concert and a renaissance fair than a tropical pirate setting but I'm not going to question it. Besides. Both of their appearances are pretty fucking immaterial when compared to the bawling woman in the tattered nightgown they're standing over.

"Hey fuckface!"

The punk rocker wannabe turns his head and by then it's already over.

Transitioning so quickly from [Soru] into a [Geppo] assisted jump has sent me rocketing forward at such speeds that he doesn't even have time to react to my presence. My knee caves the pirates nose into his face and sends teeth flying from two separate corners of his mouth.

Momentum lifts him straight off the ground and the force carries us both forward until my knee imbeds him into the side of a stone house and I hear the crack of his skull.

+470 Exp!

His crewmate is momentarily caught in a stupor. Staring at me and his pal in disbelief. A slight shake of his head knocks him out of it and he draws a steel shortsword from his waist.

The cosplay reject charges at me with a cliché battlecry of "Bastard!" and I simply whip out my .44 and aim at his chest.

"Don't you know the expression about bringing knives to a gun fight?"

Four shots ring out and each one strikes a different section of the pirates chest. His mouth wrenches open to scream -presumably at least- but before any sound can be made he's already crumbled lifelessly onto the pavement.

+445 Exp!

I begin reloading my revolver and try to get my thoughts in order. 'Ok. Two down. Who knows how many more to g-Wait. Hold the phone. Did I just get over 900 Exp for taking out two grunts?'

That is high. Like, unusually high. It's been my experience that random mooks should award more in the 15-75 range. Y'know depending on their quality.

I glance over to the motionless body of the punk rocker and try to read his...Oh. Right. Titles are still [OFF].

My fingers fly through the [Game]'s menu's to correct that oversight and my internal grumbling begins again. 'One week. That's all I wanted. Just one stupid week where I could sit in the sun, flirt with women, and put all this shit aside for a couple of days. But can I have that? Nooooo. No, we're not allowed to have nice things anymore. We have to stumble ass-backwards into encounters with someone from the Oro Jackson and then get attacked the moment the goddamn sun sets!'

The switch toggles back to [ON] and I look again to the most-likely deceased shitstain I just fused with the wall.

"Now. Let's see who these assholes are working for."

Greeley, Kid Pirates, Lv. 19

'….'

'….'

'...no..'

My head slowly cranes around to look at the downed corpse of Mr. Renaissance.

Arik, Kid Pirates, Lv. 18

'...no no no...'

Do you know that feeling where you want to just laugh until you start crying?

That about sums up where I'm at.

'This is not fucking happening. There is no way my night can be going this poorly.'

A storm of gunshots starts ringing from two streets over and the frantic screams of civilians accompanies them.

I pull out a sword from the [Inventory] and rush to investigate. I turn down a corner and discover what could only be called some kind of makeshift battlement. Townsfolk and shop owners are crouched behind a hastily thrown together pile of barrels and furniture and are exchanging fire with a group of pirates on the other end of the road.

A figure leaps out from the pirate side and begins weaving through the gunfire with a nimbleness that is frankly unnatural. People keep aiming at him but by then he's already moved. Hopping off of downed bodies. Swinging from signs. Actually running across the walls of buildings. The flintlocks keep cracking but no one's able to touch him.

My sword starts to shake in my hand. My palms are sweaty and my breathing is getting heavier.

I've always known that..at some point...eventually...I'm going to come head to head with someone I recognized from canon. There's just too many characters in 'One Piece' for it not to happen.

'...but why did it have to be this guy.'

'Massacre Soldier' Killer, Kid Pirates, Lv. 52

The future 'Supernova' continues to dance his way across the battlefield, dodging bullets effortlessly through a combination of speed, acrobatics, and skill.

Halfway through his journey, an individual bursts from a storefront to intercept him wielding nothing but a medieval-style arming sword and a leather apron for protection.

Ludwig, Weapons Stall Owner, Lv. 21

Words catch in my throat to scream at the man not to fight but it's already too late. The two have already engaged and as expected it immediately starts going poorly for the second man.

'Idiot! You're not going to last a minute.'

Killer blocks his opponents overhead swing with his unique scythe weaponry and utilizes the force behind the strike to flip himself into the air and over the stall owners head. The curved blades spin to life through what I can only guess is some sort of motor in their grips, and moments later Ludwig goes down in a gut-wrenching scream as his back is absolutely shredded.

'Correction. He didn't last 15 seconds!'

The masked pirate continues on his journey towards the barricade without missing a beat. I'd give it less than half a minute before all these people are cut down just like the rest.

My hands tighten hard around the grips of the sword in my right and the gun in my left.

'Fuck it.'

I grit my teeth, throw myself into a running start, and [Geppo] over the rampart to meet his charge with one of my own.

'Time to do something really stupid.'

A/N: Just a few side comments. I'll keep them brief.

1. Berwynne is pronounced Ber-Wine, not Ber-Win.

2. The shanty that was sung in the tavern is titled 'Don't Forget Your Old Shipmate.'

3. If perchance you want to see actual pictures of Greeley and Arik, I direct you to the scene of the Kid Pirates in the New World where Eustass is reading a newspaper about Luffy ringing the Ox Bell.

4. For my fellow American readers, hope you all have a fine Thanksgiving that I'm totally sure won't be full of political bickering. TTFN. Ta Ta For Now.