Several days had passed since the earthshaking party with the Whitebeard Pirates, and the Oro Jackson had slipped back into its usual rhythm.
The sun was kind, the wind was mild, and everyone was at their posts. Some scrubbed the deck. Others repaired the parts Roger had stomped through. Everything felt peaceful and bright.
Kael Grylls lounged on his personal beach chair beneath a parasol, wearing a pair of sunglasses he had "borrowed" from Gaban. He gently swung his legs and soaked in the rare idleness.
Man, getting older makes you allergic to moving.
Which was when a grating voice shattered the calm.
"Hey! Where's Gol D. Roger?"
A rough teenage shout carried in from beyond the rail.
Kael's brow ticked. He tipped his shades down. Who's kid is this? And where are his manners?
Everyone turned to look. A hulking youth stood balanced on a little raft cobbled together from scrap iron. He swept the deck with a defiant stare, daring anyone to meet it.
He wore a vivid gold mohawk. Scars crisscrossed his bulging arms. His eyes were pure rebellion and his face said one thing: I am the world.
"You looking for me, brat?" Roger was sitting on the figurehead, polishing his beloved sword, and looked up with a big grin.
"My name is Douglas Bullet!" the youth barked, thumbing his chest. His voice didn't even try to hide its arrogance. "They say you are one of the strongest men on this sea, so I'm here to challenge you!"
Silence hit the deck for half a beat, then laughter exploded.
"Hahaha, another kid who doesn't know the height of the sky!"
"Hey, you even know who you're talking to?"
Rayleigh and Gaban shared a look and an indulgent sigh. They had seen this play before.
Roger, however, lit up like someone had told him a new joke. "Kuhahahaha! Interesting! Been a while since I've seen a brat with this much fire. Fine, I accept!"
Bullet crouched and sprang. He landed on the Oro Jackson with a heavy thump.
He carried no weapon. He merely crossed his arms over his chest, and a strange aura pulsed from him.
"Combine!"
At that growled command, spare cannons skittered across the deck. Iron barrels, anchor chains, repair plates every loose piece of metal screamed free of its moorings and flew toward Bullet. In the blink of an eye, components twisted, locked, and overlapped around him. A crude metal titan, ten-plus meters tall, rose from the deck, its shadow swallowing half the ship.
The thing was rough as a shipwright's first draft yet radiated raw threat. A cannon yawned in the chest. Arms patchworked from plates and girders were thicker than the mainmast.
Kael had expected something like this, but even he had to sit up. Oh ho. Full armor combine mode. Mecha fruit. That is ridiculously cool. Guess I'm watching this one standing.
"Whoaaa! Awesome!" Shanks and Buggy were starry-eyed.
"A combinator Devil Fruit user, huh," Rayleigh murmured, pushing up his glasses.
"Come, Roger! Show me your measure!" Bullet's voice boomed from the robot's chest. A titanic iron fist howled down, tearing the air toward Roger's skull.
"Kuhahahaha! Fine ability," Roger said, still smiling.
He didn't even step aside. He simply raised Ace, the blade resting casually across his body.
Black-red lightning coiled around the steel like living serpents.
"Divine Departure!"
Roger swung like it was a lazy, ordinary strike.
The cut went by. The robot barely had time to register it. The iron fist hung there in midair, and then a smooth line ran through the giant's middle.
The line grew. It traced up to the head and down to the feet.
Boom.
The mecha split into two clean halves and toppled apart, a rain of parts clattering across the deck.
When the dust settled, Douglas Bullet was on one knee in the wreckage, chest heaving, drenched in sweat, shock stamped across his eyes.
His pride, shattered like scrap, in one casual stroke.
Kael: Not great, Kid Bullet. When I first challenged Roger we fought to our hearts' content.
Rayleigh: "To your hearts' content" meaning you took one punch and slept like a baby?
Kael: …
Roger slid Ace back into its sheath as if nothing of note had happened. He strolled up to Bullet and peered down, still smiling.
After a tight-lipped silence, Bullet snapped his head up. Shock had burned off into a hotter fire.
"Let me join your crew, Roger!" he roared, voice scraping with intensity. "I'll challenge you every day until I surpass you!"
"Hm?" Roger scratched his head and winced. "What a hassle…"
He turned hopefully toward Rayleigh and Gaban.
Rayleigh studied the clouds with deep interest and whistled. "Today's cloud shapes are rather unusual."
Gaban crouched and examined the planks with grave focus. "Terrible grain on this board. I must replace it immediately."
These two.
Roger pouted, scanned the deck, and finally locked onto the beach chair's shade.
Kael was already pushing his sunglasses back up, ready to pretend none of this concerned him, when he felt the weight of every gaze swing his way.
A bad premonition crept up his spine.
"Kuhahahaha!" Roger pointed at Kael and declared to Bullet, "Kid, you want a shot at me? Fine. Beat him first."
Bullet followed the finger and found a man in a loud floral shirt, legs crossed, the picture of laziness.
His eyes skimmed up and down Kael with undisguised contempt.
"Him?"
This man didn't feel like a fighter at all. He was riddled with openings, a nobleman on holiday who had wandered aboard by mistake. Bullet already had one thousand three hundred and ninety-six ways to beat him.
Roger was making a fool of him.
Kael sighed inside. Without me, this crew would fall apart.
"Oh? You looking down on him?" Roger's grin went fox-sharp. "Telling you now, he's strong."
Bullet's pride went up in flames.
He hurled out his hand. "Combine!"
Every usable scrap flew back. Even the two bisected halves reknit, mass piling upon mass until a second robot loomed, uglier, heavier, and meaner than the first.
"Hey! Lazy guy! Fight me!" Bullet howled from the cockpit. The titan's steps shook the ship.
Kael set down his cup, unhurried, and rose. He rolled his shoulders.
"Honestly. Playing with kids is exhausting." He made a single, lazy gesture, raising his right hand and spreading his fingers toward the charging colossus.
Vmm.
A bass hum. The instant the sound touched the air, it struck the mecha's chest.
No explosion. No fire.
The giant lurched and froze.
From the spot Kael had "touched," hairline fractures webbed outward through the entire structure.
This wasn't an external smash. It was an internal failure, a cascade of resonance tearing joints from the inside out.
Crk… crack… thoom.
The mecha collapsed like a Jenga tower with its spine pulled, bursting outward from within into a glittering storm of parts.
Bullet tumbled out and rolled across the deck.
He stared, slack and speechless, at the man who stood with his hair still perfectly in place.
Heroes are a dime a dozen.
Gasps swept the deck.
"I knew it! Kael-san got even stronger!"
"Phew. There he goes showing off again."
Shanks and Buggy's jaws dropped so far they nearly unhinged.
Kael dropped back into his chair, lifted his glass, and took a slow, satisfied sip.
"Ah. Saved."
Sorry, little bro. Bringing a tin can to a wave fight was never going to end well.
His peace didn't last. A tall shadow fell across him.
Bullet was on his feet again. The stubborn obsession he'd aimed at Roger had vanished, replaced by a brand-new fire that burned even hotter.
"You," he rasped, pointing at Kael. "What's your name?"
"Kael."
"Kael!" Bullet clenched his fists. "Again! No, from today on I'm challenging you every day until I defeat you!"
Kael froze with his cup halfway to his mouth.
He looked over at Roger, who was waggling his eyebrows and grinning like an idiot, then at Rayleigh and Gaban, who were visibly strangling their laughter, then finally at the battle maniac blazing in front of him.
He tilted his head back and offered the blue sky the deepest, most helpless sigh he had let out since joining this ship.
"My life of loafing around…"
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