Both Jack and Aramaki were standing on the deck of their ship, each focused on their own tasks while the waves gently rocked the vessel. Aramaki had taken control of the wheel, his hands steady as he made small adjustments to keep them traveling in a straight line along the course they had chosen.
At the same time, he was also maintaining the constant spin of the sunflower-made propeller, making sure the ship stayed in motion even when the wind wasn't favorable. Jack, on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged near the mast, his breathing slow and controlled.
He was meditating, diving deeper into the Hercules Method, and theorizing that he was on the verge of stepping into an entirely new realm of the technique—possibly nearing the level that Cain, the original progenitor of the method, was said to have reached.
Out of nowhere, Aramaki broke the silence. "What's your dream?" he suddenly asked. His voice was calm, but there was a certain weight to his words. It was the first time he had ever asked Jack this question, and the tone he used was far more serious than usual.
Jack slowly opened one eye and looked at him. "What's with the sudden question? Did something happen in your head?" Jack replied jokingly, raising a brow. His teasing tone hung in the air, but Aramaki only gave a small smile in response. He closed his eyes briefly, as if reminiscing about something from his past.
"No, nothing like that," Aramaki said after a pause. "I've just always wondered. I wanted to know for myself."
Hearing that, Jack leaned back slightly, falling into thought. For the first time, he truly began to reflect on the question.'Hmm… I guess I never really thought about it before,' he admitted inwardly. 'It's not like I want to be king of the world. That just sounds like a major hassle.'
He dug deeper, searching for the reason he was pushing himself so hard, the real purpose behind his relentless training and pursuit of strength. His mind drifted toward memories of his previous life, where everything had been so monotonous—wake up, eat, work, sleep, and repeat. It had felt like living as a machine, trapped in a programmed cycle with no room for freedom. Slowly, he realized what he had been seeking all along.
"I want to be the freest man in the world," Jack finally declared, his tone steady but filled with conviction. The words summed up everything he desired. Freedom was the culmination of his thoughts, the complete opposite of the robotic, suffocating existence he once had. To live without chains, without restrictions—that was his dream.
The moment Jack spoke those words, the atmosphere shifted. A loud crash of lightning split the sky, striking the sea nearby. Without realizing it, Jack had released an immense wave of Conqueror's Haki. The serene weather turned chaotic as dark clouds formed overhead, winds picking up violently. The sheer intensity of the haki was overwhelming; Aramaki himself staggered, his breathing heavy as he nearly collapsed under the pressure. His body trembled, but his eyes remained locked on Jack.
After a few seconds, the surge of power faded, and the sea calmed once again. Yet the feeling lingered in Aramaki's heart, echoing deep within him. He looked at Jack, his eyes wide with shock at first, but then an uncontrollable grin spread across his face.
"Hahahahaha! If your dream is to be free, then strength will be your path, and you'll need to be the strongest in the world to achieve it. Allow me to accompany you on that journey!" Aramaki declared with firm resolve, his voice booming across the deck.
Jack smirked at Aramaki's bold words, and soon both of them broke into laughter. Their voices mixed with the sound of the sea as the ship continued forward. For the first time, their shared journey now carried not just goals of strength, but also dreams and unshakable resolve. With added purpose in their hearts, Jack and Aramaki sailed on, driven more than ever by the paths they had chosen for themselves.
-----------------------
A full day passed since they first began their journey, and the enthusiasm from yesterday still carried over as if no time had gone by. Jack, however, now had something new to focus on during his training. The sudden awakening of his Conqueror's Haki weighed heavily on his mind. He had always known deep down that he possessed the potential for it, yet he hadn't expected to trigger it by simply voicing his dream aloud.
'No, Conqueror's Haki isn't something that just comes out randomly,' Jack thought as he sat in meditation on the deck. 'It's the direct manifestation of one's willpower in the world of One Piece. Every single person who wields it has a dream or an aspiration they refuse to let go of, and I'm no different. I, too, have something I want to accomplish—freedom.'
As he recalled the overwhelming state he entered the previous day, Jack attempted to dive deeper into his concentration. But before he could immerse himself completely, a sharp sensation made his eyes snap open. His instincts screamed that something was approaching.
"Someone's coming," Jack announced calmly, his voice breaking the quiet.
Aramaki, who had been lying flat on the deck enjoying the warmth of the sun, tilted his head lazily before sitting up. "Eh? Pirates already?" he muttered, brushing dust from his clothes before scanning the horizon. He stretched out his senses, trying to pinpoint the direction.
Within a few minutes, a large silhouette began to grow clearer in the distance. A ship—noticeably larger than the Wicked Wench—was headed directly toward them. Its sails were full, and it was cutting straight through the sea as if it had noticed their presence long ago. Jack narrowed his eyes as faint voices and the rowdy noise of men began to reach his ears.
"They're pirates," Jack confirmed, his tone steady. "They think we're just a brand-new crew out on the waters, easy pickings."
Aramaki sat cross-legged now, waiting. The shouting from the other ship grew louder the closer it came, and finally, a harsh voice roared across the waves.
"OY! WHOEVER'S IN THAT TINY BOAT—LEAVE IT! WE'LL BE TAKING IT FOR OURSELVES!"
The pirate ship pulled alongside them, its size dwarfing the Wicked Wench by nearly twofold. From the enemy deck, dozens of armed men leered down at them. They saw only two figures—a boy who still looked childish in Aramaki, and Jack, who looked competent but outnumbered. The pirates grinned confidently, convinced the battle was already won.
Jack, standing tall, raised his voice in return. "If you leave now, I'll let you live." His words carried no arrogance, just certainty.
For a moment, the pirates glanced at one another in silence before bursting into laughter.
"Hahahaha! You've got guts, brat, but you're nothing but small fry!" one pirate jeered.
Without hesitation, four of them vaulted over the rail and landed on the Wicked Wench's deck, weapons drawn and ready to kill. Their leader sneered. "Give up now, and maybe we'll make it quick."
Jack glanced at Aramaki. Their eyes met, and then both of them started laughing as if the whole situation was nothing more than a small distraction.
"Kill them," Jack said flatly.
Aramaki's grin widened. "Gladly." His fingers instantly morphed into writhing root-like tentacles that shot forward with deadly precision. In an instant, the four pirates were skewered, their screams cut short as their bodies shriveled like dried husks. Every drop of liquid was drained from them, leaving behind nothing but lifeless, mummified shells.
The gruesome sight froze the remaining pirates in shock. Panic spread across their deck, shattering their earlier confidence. Some scrambled to arm cannons, others shouted orders, but the order in their ranks dissolved into chaos.
Jack drew his pistol smoothly, his movements calm. He aimed at the few sharpshooters perched with rifles on the enemy deck. One by one, with precise shots, he dropped them where they stood. Each pull of the trigger ended a life instantly, his bullets striking with unerring accuracy.
The enemy crew numbered in the hundreds, including their captain and vice-captain, who attempted to rally their men by leaping down to confront Aramaki directly. But they met the same fate. Aramaki's roots spread like a web, piercing them before they could land a single blow. Their bodies withered, their strength erased in moments, until they, too, collapsed as mummies at his feet.
The rest of the crew fell into disarray. Some begged for mercy, others tried to escape, but it was too late. Jack and Aramaki cut them down efficiently, leaving no survivors.
When the silence finally returned to the sea, the Wicked Wench floated beside a ghost ship. Jack and Aramaki boarded the enemy vessel without hesitation, plundering it of all its treasures, supplies, and valuables. Only after stripping it clean did they set it ablaze and sink it into the ocean's depths, leaving nothing behind but ashes and waves.
Their first encounter as pirates had ended not with difficulty, but with overwhelming dominance.