"Sabo, take Gin," I said, not taking my eyes off the defeated bodies. "I'll deal with these guys."
"Well then, let's go," Sabo nodded, lifting Gin up.
I bent down and effortlessly grabbed the legs of two massive thugs. After a couple of years of training, my body had become nearly mechanical — hundreds of kilos? Not a problem. My muscles tensed, but there was no fatigue. I could drag them across the entire island if I had to.
But I didn't just drag them like sacks. This was a pirate island — the law here was loose, but rules still existed. And if someone broke those rules — you could turn them in. I wasn't sure how the process worked exactly, but we could get a cut of the bounty. Though that probably wouldn't apply to the more expensive pirates…
"Up you go!" I threw the two thugs down. "They won't be waking up anytime soon."
"Hey, Sheriff! Come out!" I shouted, looking toward the darkened entrance of the post, reinforced with steel plates.
A few seconds of silence. The wind rustled dust across the stone pavement. Then a creak — and a wiry, scruffy man appeared in the doorway, his face half-shadowed, a dull red light flickering from his mechanical eye.
"You again," he grumbled, squinting. "Who'd you drag in this time?"
"Don't remember his name, but there's a bounty on him — eleven million," I replied, stepping aside so he could see the bodies.
"And the other one?"
"He didn't want to lie around. Who knows, maybe he's worth something too."
The sheriff smirked, spat out a piece of toothpick, and stepped closer. He crouched down, tugged at one of the collars — no response.
"They alive?"
"For now. But they're out cold."
"Heh. Alright then..." He straightened up and clapped his hands. Four deputies emerged from inside the post in coarse uniforms and immediately began dragging the bodies away. "If they're confirmed, you'll get the reward. Standard deal — thirty percent is yours."
I nodded.
"This time, you really caught someone serious," he added, glancing over one of the captives. "There was a five million bounty on the second one."
He disappeared inside for a few minutes and returned with a metal case.
"There's just under five million Beli in here," he said, dropping the case at my feet. "After our cut."
I picked up the case silently, feeling the weight of the money.
"Thanks," I said, turning away.
It was much easier to turn them in here than to deal with transport and detainment. And far less risky… the thought flickered through my mind.
I'd better get back quickly and check on Gin and Sabo, I thought as I hurried toward the hotel.
Seven years later…
The sea was calm, but tension hung in the air. We stood on an old wooden pier, sun-bleached and saltworn.
This is it — the turning point in our pirate lives, I thought, staring out at the horizon. We're finally setting sail... for real.
"And… what the hell is that?" Sabo muttered, arms crossed. Gin stood beside him, also eyeing the vessel with doubt.
A small two-masted schooner bobbed on the waves before us. Nothing impressive — its hull was battered in places, the sails weathered, but there was something… authentic about it. As if it had been waiting for us all this time.
"It'll do for now," I said with a smirk and easily leapt aboard. "It's not the size of the ship — it's who's on it that matters."
Sabo chuckled and shrugged.
"If you say so..." He climbed aboard.
Gin followed, glancing around like he couldn't believe it was really happening.
"Never thought we'd make it this far," he mumbled.
"We didn't just make it," I said, stepping up to the wheel. "We're starting."
I looked ahead — where sky met sea. New enemies, new battles awaited us… but also the chance to become legends. Because now — this was our story.
"Raise the sails!" I commanded, gripping the helm. "Course for Loguetown!"
The sails snapped as they caught the wind, the masts groaned, and the schooner, like a beast roused from slumber, began to pull away from the pier.
"Hey, Bellamy, that's too far," Sabo said, looking over the map spread on a barrel near the mast. "We don't have enough provisions. We'll have to circle a few islands, restock along the way."
"Especially water," added Gin, sorting through crates in the hold.
I nodded.
"I know. This isn't some vacation expedition — it's the pirate's path. We'll stop at Dreymore Island — good place to stock up if we don't run into local guards. Then we'll skirt the rocky reefs off Leyra's coast and straight to Loguetown."
Sabo raised an eyebrow.
"You sure about Loguetown? It's the last place Gol D. Roger stood. They hunt pirates there like it's a sport."
"That's exactly why we're going," I said. "As the future Pirate King, I need to stand where the last one did!"
Gin snorted, but grinned.
"Well, now that sounds like a pirate thing to say."
Two days later
The sea was eerily calm. No storms, no ships, not even flying fish — just endless blue, sliced by the sharp bow of our ship.
I sat at the side, legs dangling overboard, lazily watching the horizon. My fingers toyed with an old coin, flipping it absentmindedly.
Nothing had happened in days… Strange. Usually, calm like this—
"Hey, Bellamy! Starboard side — an island!" Gin's voice rang out from the other side of the ship.
I jumped up. Sabo was already at the helm, waiting for the call.
"Sabo, turn the ship! We're heading for land!"
He frowned, checking the map.
"Wait, Bellamy… It's not on any of the charts."
I hesitated for a moment, then laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Even better! What if there's treasure? Or a hidden base? It's an unknown island, Sabo. That's how great stories begin!"
Gin nodded enthusiastically.
"Could be treasure. Or ancient ruins, or a forgotten village. No risk — no pirate life!"
Sabo cursed under his breath but complied. The sails caught the wind again, the schooner veered.
The island grew closer. First just a silhouette. Then — rocky cliffs, palm trees, jungle in the depths.
The shore was nearer than it looked. Half an hour later, we were cruising along the cliffs, looking for a place to land. One spot looked promising — a split in the rocks revealed a small cove with a gentle, sandy beach.
"Here," I said. "Bring us closer. Drop anchor."
Sabo nodded, and minutes later the ship trembled as the anchor hit bottom. We lowered a boat and headed for shore — me, Sabo, and Gin. The sea was thick with seaweed, the air heavy and humid. No birds. No cries, no splashes. Just our breathing and the rustle of jungle leaves.
"I don't like this," Sabo muttered. "Too quiet. Too... dead."
We stepped onto the shore. No tracks. No human, no animal. Just sand, rocks, and thick undergrowth.
Fifteen minutes later, we found a path leading deeper into the island. And then — a village. Or what was left of it. Crumbling huts, roofs rotted away, barrels overturned and empty.
"Someone lived here," Gin said, crouching over charred cookware by a firepit. "Left in a hurry."
"Or were made to leave," I replied. "Look."
On one of the walls, a symbol had been scratched in. Rough, but clear: a circle, slashed through with three lines.
Sabo stepped closer...