Chapter 5: Something Foul is Afoot

Chapter 5: Something Foul is Afoot

John woke with a groan, his head throbbing mercilessly as if a thousand tiny hammers were pounding against his skull.

Another migraine. He pressed his hands against his temples, trying to ease the pain, but it persisted, gnawing at his senses relentlessly.

As he stumbled out of bed, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. The sight that greeted him was disheartening—a haggard face, eyes sunken, surrounded by a halo of grey hair turning increasingly white with each passing day.

His body underwent a remarkable change, growing stronger with each passing day. Though he hadn't paid much heed to it, now, standing before the mirror, the evidence was undeniable.

"Guess hard work really pays off," he chuckled, a hint of self-deprecation lacing his laughter as he slipped into his clothes, getting ready for breakfast.

Descending the stairs to the common area, John was met with Marie's snide remark, delivered with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "Well, well, if it isn't the walking dead," she quipped, her tone oddly genuine as she eyed him up and down with a strange smile.

Ignoring her jibe, John sank into a chair at the breakfast table, his appetite nonexistent.

Marie wasted no time in voicing her concerns, albeit in her trademark brusque manner. "You look exhausted, John," she remarked bluntly. "Perhaps it's time we consider staying at the inn for a few days. You clearly need some rest and recuperation."

John waved off her suggestion with a dismissive gesture. "I have an appointment with Tristran after I go and check up on how well Cynthia has settled at Rei's house later today," he stated firmly, his voice showing none of the exhaustion he felt.

With that, he pushed himself away from the table, readying himself to head out.

Marie scoffed, "Well, since I can't change your mind, make sure you come, but be back in time for dinner tonight; I'm expecting some guests in the evening, so I'll only prepare food ones."

John stepped out of the inn, and as he opened the door, he waved over his shoulder to Marie. "Don't worry, I'll be back in time," he reassured her with a small smile before heading off.

Watching John's retreating figure, a flicker of hesitation danced in Marie's eyes before she was consumed by a growing, maddening resolve.

Her mutterings were almost incoherent. "Poor boy, I really feel sorry for what is about to happen, but well, it's too late for him anyway. Better make use of his body while it's still warm." Despite her callous words, a lingering sense of pity lingered within her. Fate had dealt him a bad hand, just as it had with his wife. John was already destined to die.

…

Arriving at Rei's house, John's heart pounded with anticipation as he readied himself to see his daughter. For the first time since her birth, he would be allowed to hold her.

Despite the uncertainty and fear that plagued his mind, as he laid eyes on how small and fragile she appeared, the prospect of holding his child filled him with a profound sense of joy and purpose.

As he cradled her in his arms, his heart swelled with love and tenderness, a surge of emotion washing over him like a tidal wave. For that fleeting moment, all pain and suffering faded into the background, replaced by the simple, unadulterated joy of fatherhood.

Suddenly, he was roused from his daze by the baby's cries, breaking the spell of the tender moment. Rei approached, her voice gentle but practical. "Well, hasn't, she behaved like an angel, but it seems like it's time for her lunch. Mind handing her to me so I can get started?"

John's confusion deepened as he realised that it was already noon. How has time slipped away so quickly since his arrival?

Before he could dwell on it further, the realisation struck him like a bolt of lightning, and he cursed under his breath. "Crap, I'm going to be late for my appointment with Tristran!"

John hurriedly handed his daughter back to Rei and apologised for his sudden departure.

Rushing out of the house, he dashed through the busy streets towards Tristran's place, navigating the crowds and finally reaching Tristran's doorstep. John's heart sank as he realised that he was indeed late. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

…

Meanwile Darion and Bell-Mare stood in line at the bustling tavern, anticipating their turn to order food amidst the lively chatter and clinking of glasses, the air thick with the tantalising aroma of sizzling street food.

As they stepped up to the counter, Darion's voice rang out with a hint of excitement: "I'll have the grilled fish platter with a side of roasted vegetables, please."

Bell-Mare chimed in smoothly, her tone confident and gracious. "And I'll have the seafood pasta, extra garlic, if you don't mind. Oh, and could you throw in a side of garlic bread as well?"

The shopkeeper nodded, a friendly smile gracing his lips. "Your order will be ready shortly. Would you prefer separate bills or one bill together?"

Bell-Mere nodded decisively. "one bill, and I'll take care of it," she declared confidently. However, when the shopkeeper presented the bill, she searched through her purse frantically, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Strange, I can't seem to find my wallet," she muttered, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

Darion noticed Bell's distress and quickly stepped in. "Don't worry, I'll cover it," he offered, reaching for his own wallet to settle the bill.

"If you insist," she said coyly, grabbing a bag and running off before he could say a word, leaving a bewildered Darion behind. 

"What just happened?" he muttered to himself as he paid for the meals.

The shopkeeper couldn't help but chuckle at Darion's bewildered expression. "It looks like she played you like a fiddle, boy," he remarked with a knowing grin.

Darion stepped back from the counter, a frustrated sigh escaping him as he realised he'd been duped. "Well played, Bell," he muttered under his breath, annoyance evident in his tone.

As he walked out of the shop, the laughter of strangers behind him grated on Darion's nerves. A voice broke through, shouting, "She's got you pretty good," drawing more laughter from the bystanders.

Embarrassed, Darion made a hasty exit, eager to catch up with his companion and put the embarrassing incident behind him.

He found her munching happily on some cargo crates in the bay. He joined her and sat down opposite her, with his back to their ship.

Darion shot Bell a slightly annoyed glance and quipped, "You think you're very funny, don't you?"

Bell shrugged, her smile oddly mischievous. "Hey, at least that lightened the mood a bit, didn't it?"

Bell's smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. "Don't make it obvious, but there are two masked individuals on our ship," she whispered urgently, her voice barely audible over the bustling sounds of the harbour.

"Don't try to talk your way out of this," Darion grumbled, turning his head away from Bell's gaze, determined to ignore her. "Look, there's no one there. And even if there was, it would be someone from the crew."

But Bell's urgent whisper cut through his defiance. "Shh, they're heading this way, so keep it down," she insisted, pulling Darion behind a large crate, her grip firm and insistent.

Darion cursed under his breath, "You're going way too far. Now untie me so I can..." Before he could finish, Bell silenced him by gagging him with her hand.

"Listen," she whispered urgently, cupping her hands over her ears.

With his mouth gagged, Darion could only listen intently, his senses heightened by the ominous silence that surrounded them as the bustle of the surrounding harbour faded away.

Despite his frustration, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

A voice carried on the wind, faint but clear, sent shivers down his spine. His instincts screamed at him to stand still and wait as the eerie silence settled around them like a heavy fog.

The sensation reminded him of childhood encounters with wild beasts—fear creeping in, senses sharpened by the unnerving silence.

At first, the words were fragments, whispers in the wind—'pirate', 'signal'. As they neared, the conversation became clearer, each word unsettling.

"Those pests almost ruined everything," a gruff voice muttered. "Good thing we got a heads-up and dealt with them quickly. Now everything can continue as planned."

"Those damn Marines almost ruined everything," a soft voice replied before asking, "Did you set the explosives?"

The man grumbled. "Yes, everything is rigged to explode. Now all I have to do is run another errand and go to the warehouse to see what this meeting is all about."

He asked insincerely, "Would you like to tag along?"

"No," she said. "Let's split up. I don't want people to know we're working together, so I'll go to the meeting first."

Overhearing their conversation, Darion realised why no one had turned up for the rendezvous.

He turned to look at his companion, only to find her looking pale, her eyes filled with hatred.

He knew her well enough to realise that she was using every ounce of self-control she had to keep this anger in check.

The voices soon faded into the distance, leaving the distraught marines unwittingly behind.

Once he was sure they were gone, he asked her how she was keeping up.

Hesitating for a moment, she closed her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke, "They're all gone. The captain and the others are gone." She brushed away a tear, her sadness giving way to determination.

After a moment of reflection on what they had just heard, they spoke simultaneously.

"We need to report this immediately," he asserted, his tone urgent.

"We have to go after them," she insisted, her voice resolute.

"Don't even think about it!" Darion's voice thundered through the air, his tone filled with urgency.

"We have to do something!" Bell-Mere's voice matched his intensity as she rose to her feet, preparing to give chase. "Let's go after them!"

"Stop, you idiot," Darion scolded, holding her back. "How can we possibly win if they've already killed the captain?"

Bell-Mere deflated like a balloon, her frustration evident as she asked, "So what are we supposed to do? Just stand here and do nothing?"

Darion rolled his eyes. "Of course not!" he replied, considering his options. "This situation is getting out of control. We don't have the manpower to deal with it; we need more support!"

"So we should report to headquarters?" Bell-Mere asked for clarification.

"Exactly," Darion confirmed. "I overheard something about a 'warehouse', so if we can report that, maybe we can get reinforcements and take them all in one fell swoop!"

Bell's eyes lit up as understanding dawned on her.

"So let's call them right now!" she exclaimed, pulling out a Baby Den Mushi to make a call, only to find that there was no connection.

Watching her struggle to make a call, Darion thought to himself, "It seems impossible after all.

Darion sighed heavily. "That's what I was afraid of; the captain had the only long range, Den Den Mushi, and we only have a short range one. If the backup isn't nearby, it won't connect."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

"I know!" Darion exclaimed suddenly, startling his companion. "Let's go to the mayor; he must have a long-range Den Den Mushi. We should be able to call HQ as long as we can use it to boost our signal."

"We should hurry; it's already getting dark."

They ran as fast as they could and reached the town square, where they saw lights emanating from the mayor's house.

"Finally, some luck; someone seems to be in the office."

But just as she said that, the main door swung open to reveal the last person they expected to see coming out - shaking hands with the mayor as if they were old friends.

It was the man they had been looking for all day, standing so close and yet feeling so out of reach.

"This can't be happening," Bell-Mere said nervously. "The mayor's in league with them?"

"Don't be silly," Darion replied. "How could the mayor be in league with pirates?"

Darion's heart raced as he struggled to make sense of the situation. The man they had been looking for was now apparently on friendly terms with the mayor, leaving him confused.

"It's probably just a coincidence that the mayor has a relationship with a wanted criminal," he said, though his voice was full of doubt as he tried to convince himself.

They watched as the mayor pointed west and waved to their target, who returned the gesture with a small nod and a wave goodbye before heading towards the warehouse district.

"We need to go over there and sort this out; explain to the mayor the dangers of this man so we can call for reinforcements," Mace said with conviction.

As she started to make her way over, her companion pulled her back, causing her to ask in an annoyed tone, "Now what?"

He quickly pointed to the top window where the light was on and said, "Look," causing Mace to frown as she looked up to focus on the top floor.

"The masked man!" She shouted, full of fear and anger.

The two scouts were at a loss as to what to do, and she asked Darion, "Is the mayor really in league with these criminals, or is he another target?"

"Maybe both," Darion said, "but the evidence is stacked against him if we assume the masked organisation is working with the target.

"Our best option is to split up; you follow the main target, and I'll try to get the long-range Den Den Mushi while you try to get an accurate location of where this meeting is taking place.

"Meet me back here in half... no, make it an hour," Darion instructed.

"OK, let's do that," Bell said before running off towards the Warehouse District.

A second later, she stopped, turned around, and said, "Be careful, Darion."

To which he replied, "Just don't take any unnecessary risks and stay safe yourself."

With that, they both left, not knowing what was to come.