As the Wicked Wench began its climb up the Reverse Mountain, the ship revealed more of its unusual engineering. Aside from its sails and hull reinforced by Aramaki's living wood, there were now three additional propellers crafted from massive sunflower petals, each spinning at incredible speed to force the ship upward against the raging current.
One of these propellers was placed on the back of the Wicked Wench, not submerged in water but rather angled outside, functioning like an air booster that helped stabilize the ascent. The other three propellers were submerged deep below the hull, and as they spun furiously, the water beneath them twisted into a whirlpool-like tornado, creating a force powerful enough to counter the waterfall's pull.
Neither Aramaki nor Jack appeared worried about the strain being put on the ship. They had already tested the sunflower propellers repeatedly during calmer waters and knew they could withstand heavy use. For more than a week of continuous operation, the system had proven durable, and the two had full confidence it would survive the climb up the mountain.
After several tense minutes, the Wicked Wench finally reached the summit, where the waters converged and the great descent awaited them. Before them stretched the view of the canal leading down toward the West Blue, the fall so steep and vast that even from the top it looked like a near-vertical drop. Jack and B leaned over to take a glimpse, their eyes narrowing at the sheer distance, while Aramaki remained calm, already preparing for what would happen next.
Without hesitation, Aramaki spread his hands and summoned thick layers of wood from the ship's frame, bending them into the shape of a dome that covered the entire vessel. It wasn't meant to shield them from impact but to ensure that when the waves crashed against them during the fall, no water would seep inside and sink them.
A moment later, gravity took hold, and the Wicked Wench began its rapid descent. The roar of the rushing waters drowned out nearly everything else, and the sheer speed of the fall pressed against their bodies, making the air around them feel heavy. Yet none of the three looked afraid. Instead, all of them wore faint smiles—small signs that they embraced the risk rather than feared it.
After what felt longer than it truly was, the fall ended with a violent splash. The ship rocked, but the reinforced hull and Aramaki's protective dome kept it intact. The momentum slowed, and gradually, the Wicked Wench leveled itself, now floating peacefully on the surface of the West Blue. With the danger gone, Aramaki released the wooden dome, allowing it to retract and restore the ship to its usual form.
For a brief moment, the three stood in silence, letting their eyes wander across the sea that stretched endlessly before them. To an outsider, the view of the West Blue might look no different from any other ocean—blue waves, salty air, and the horizon unbroken. But to Jack, Aramaki, and B, it felt different. The subtle shift in the air, the way the currents moved, even the feeling in their chests as they breathed—it all carried a sense of change. Without realizing it, each of them began to smile, letting the weight of the moment sink in.
The Wicked Wench then resumed its course, sailing steadily into the waters of the West Blue. This new sea was not just another part of their journey but a place filled with personal significance, especially for Jack.
The West Blue was where his father had met his end, where his brother had first drawn breath, and where many stories of power and ambition began. It was also the birthplace of figures like Shanks and Shamrock, living examples of how the world shaped men differently—whether by nature or nurture.
And so, with steady winds and clear waters, the Wicked Wench carried its three passengers forward, toward whatever fate had in store for them.
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The Wicked Wench sailed for only about an hour before they came across a small island. At first glance, it looked ordinary, covered in rough terrain, patches of forest, and stretches of dry sand, but there were no signs of smoke, no docks, and no settlements. Jack, before making any decision, had already extended his Observation Haki across the island, its wide coverage allowing him to sense the life forms that were present. Aside from the usual small animals and insects that inhabited most unclaimed islands, there were no humans detected. Confirming this, he turned to the others and explained that the island was completely uninhabited.
After a brief discussion, the three agreed it would be wise to make this their resting place, at least for a short while. A month was the timeframe they decided on, long enough to recover from the fatigue of constant sailing. Even though they were all excited by the idea of venturing across the seas, the truth was that endless days of ocean travel wore down their energy more than they wanted to admit.
"Let's split up and look for a source of fresh water," Jack said after they docked the Wicked Wench along the shore. His eyes wandered across the forest edge as he spoke. "And maybe there's something on this island that's waiting for us. I can't explain it, but I feel like there's something important here."
Both Aramaki and B broke into laughter at his words, their reactions lighthearted and dismissive.
"What would we even find here?" Aramaki asked with a grin, his voice laced with teasing sarcasm. "The bones of animals that died from heat stroke?"
B snickered and quickly added his own jab. "Yeah, this place looks like the kind of spot where they bury people who nobody wanted. Creepy vibe if you ask me."
Jack didn't laugh. Instead, his expression hardened as he kept scanning the treeline. His tone shifted slightly, carrying more seriousness than before. "You can joke all you want, but I don't know… it's just my instincts. I've learned to trust them. They're telling me we're supposed to be here. I could be wrong, of course, but I don't think so."
Aramaki and B exchanged glances and shrugged, neither one putting much weight into Jack's words. To them, it sounded like he was overthinking, but they weren't going to argue about it. With the sun still high in the sky, the three finally chose separate directions to explore, each taking responsibility for a different part of the island.
As they set off, Jack raised his voice one last time, turning back toward them. "We'll meet back here on the shore before sunset, alright? Don't forget."
Both Aramaki and B yelled back their acknowledgment, their voices echoing faintly across the empty beach. With that reassurance, Jack turned his focus back toward the path ahead. His instincts were louder now, almost pulling him deeper into the heart of the island. He didn't know what it was, but he felt as though something—whether a discovery, a test, or even a person—was waiting for him in the untouched wilderness.
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As Jack followed the pull of his instincts, he continued walking with no fixed destination, letting his gut decide which turns to take and which paths to avoid. Every fork in the trail, every crossing between rocks and trees, his feet moved almost unconsciously, guided by something deeper than reason. Hours passed in this manner, and though the sun was slowly sinking toward the horizon, Jack pressed onward until he eventually came across a sight that broke the monotony of forest and stone—a large waterfall cascading into a wide pond.
The sound of rushing water filled the air, drowning out the usual quiet of the wilderness. Jack approached the pond and, without hesitation, dove into the cool water. He swam closer to the crashing sheet of the waterfall itself, where he noticed something unusual. Hidden behind the curtain of falling water was a dark opening, a cave mouth almost invisible to the casual eye. Jack, driven by the same gut feeling that led him here, decided to investigate.
Slipping through the waterfall, he entered the cave and found himself in a narrow passage that twisted downward. He walked carefully, the sound of dripping water echoing all around him, until the passage opened into a large underground chamber. The air was damp and heavy, and at the far end of the chamber stood a door made of aged wood and reinforced with rusted iron.
Jack pushed the door open with effort, and what awaited him inside was something he had not expected. In the center of the room stood an altar, carved from dark stone, and upon that altar rested a single treasure chest. Behind the altar were two statues. One was a figure Jack immediately recognized—it was the form of Nika, unmistakable in his carefree posture and signature silhouette.
But standing beside Nika was another statue, its form unfamiliar to Jack. The second figure carried no expression of joy or freedom like Nika; instead, its features were grim, as though carved with the intent to inspire unease. Jack stared at it, puzzled, but chose not to linger too long on the unknown.
He approached the altar and lifted the lid of the treasure chest. Inside lay a single Devil Fruit. Its appearance alone was enough to shock Jack. The fruit resembled a pomegranate, but its color was unnatural, bruised black mixed with a sickly purple hue.
The skin was cracked in several places, and from the cracks seeped glimpses of its crimson, pulp-like interior. It seemed alive, almost as if the fruit itself was breathing. A faint, sweet yet rotten odor of decay filled the air around it, making Jack wrinkle his nose in discomfort.
When Jack reached out and touched the fruit, something stranger happened. For a brief moment, the fruit pulsed beneath his hand—like a beating heart. Jack froze, eyes narrowing in disbelief, but then he felt a slick substance seep onto his palm.
It looked like blood, thick and red, covering his skin. His expression twisted in confusion, but just as quickly as it appeared, the substance began to vanish, absorbed into his hand. The Hercules Method, ever vigilant in maintaining his body, immediately reacted, knitting his flesh back to perfect condition as though nothing had happened.
Jack lifted the fruit carefully, intending to carry it back with him, but before he could take a single step toward the exit, his entire body seized with sudden agony. A wave of dizziness crashed into him, his vision blurring, while every nerve felt like it was set aflame.
The pain was overwhelming, unlike anything he had endured before, not even during his harshest training sessions or his fiercest battles. His knees buckled, and his grip on the fruit loosened as he collapsed onto the stone floor.
Despite all his strength, Jack's consciousness slipped away. The chamber faded from his vision, replaced by something else entirely.
When he awoke—or rather, when he became aware again—he was no longer in the cave. Instead, he found himself standing in a strange, undefined place where the air itself shimmered with shifting light. Two massive forces clashed before his eyes, one radiating a deep, burning red, the other a vivid, unyielding green. They moved like living entities, colliding with each other again and again in endless conflict, painting the space around him with their violent struggle.
Jack stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to understand what he was seeing.
'Where am I?' Jack thought, his mind racing as he turned his head from one color to the other.
Before he could gather his bearings, both colors suddenly surged toward him at once, their movements sharp and hostile. Without warning, the red and green forces attacked him directly, as though he had been dragged into their eternal battle.