The small sailboat, a tiny speck on the vast canvas of the sea, cut through the azure waters with silent purpose. Antonio, now the captain of his own destiny, and Catalpa, a woman reborn from the ashes of betrayal, were a week away from their destination: the bustling port of Ilisia Kingdom. Their mission was simple but critical—to acquire a ship worthy of scaling Reverse Mountain and breaching the Grand Line.
As the sun climbed higher, a flash of white fluttered in the distance. Catalpa's keen eyes spotted it first—a large Morgan Press bird, a newspaper carrier of the One Piece world. She whistled, a sharp, piercing sound, and the bird, a creature of habit, descended gracefully. She paid the bird's fee, a few Belle coins, and it flew off, leaving her with the day's news.
Meanwhile, Antonio was in the small galley, a space so cramped it was a testament to his efficient planning. He was preparing lunch, a task he had come to enjoy in the quiet rhythm of his new life. The menu was a tribute to his previous existence, a simple but elegant Italian dish: Spaghetti Carbonara. He carefully rendered pancetta until it was crisp, the fat sizzling and aromatic. He then tossed freshly cooked spaghetti into the pan, coating it in the pancetta fat before adding a rich mixture of egg, Pecorino Romano cheese, and black pepper. The result was a velvety, flavorful sauce that clung to every strand, a dish of pure comfort and elegance, a stark contrast to the brutal world they inhabited.
Catalpa burst into the galley, her face a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Antonio! You won't believe what I've found!" she exclaimed, holding out the crumpled newspaper.
Antonio, who was just plating the food, looked up, a wry smile on his face. "Did you find a treasure map?"
"Better," she said, her voice a breathless whisper. "We have bounties."
He took the paper from her, his eyes scanning the page. There, emblazoned with the familiar skull and crossbones, were their faces.
WANTED
DEAD OR ALIVE
GHOST GUN ANTONIO
Bounty: ฿45,000,000
WANTED
DEAD OR ALIVE
CATALPA
Bounty: ฿25,000,000
Catalpa pointed to his wanted poster. "They gave you a nickname. 'Ghost Gun Antonio.' It has a nice ring to it."
Antonio smirked, a hint of genuine pride in his eyes. "I like it. And the name they gave us? The 'Ghost Gun Pirates.' I think it's a good name. We should make it official. We need a flag."
Catalpa's face lit up. "Yeah, but let's hold off on that until we get a real ship. I'll design us a cool flag. I may not look like it, but I'm an artist. Painting is my favorite hobby."
Antonio's laugh was a rare, genuine sound, a note of pure joy in the desolate ocean. "I hear you."
They ate in a comfortable silence, enjoying the delicious pasta and the simple pleasure of their newfound freedom. As they finished, Catalpa turned to a more serious topic. "So, who are we looking for? What kind of crew members do we need?"
Antonio thought for a moment, his mind already running a thousand calculations. "We don't need a navigator. I've got that covered. A cook isn't an immediate priority, either; I can handle that for a while. But our most urgent needs are a doctor, a shipwright or an engineer, and most importantly, someone who can read Poneglyphs."
Catalpa's brow furrowed. "Poneglyphs? What are those?"
"They're massive, indestructible stone tablets scattered around the world," Antonio explained, his voice taking on the clear, instructional tone of a scientist. "They contain fragments of a lost history, a forbidden history, from a time called the Void Century. They also contain clues to the location of ancient weapons and, ultimately, a series of Poneglyphs known as Road Poneglyphs, which reveal the location of the final island in the Grand Line. The World Government has made it a crime to read them, fearing the knowledge they hold. Only a few people in the entire world can read them, and we need to find one of them."
Catalpa, her mind reeling, nodded slowly. "So, we're not just looking for treasure. We're looking for the truth."
"The truth is the greatest treasure of all," Antonio said, his eyes a cold, unwavering red.
As they neared the coast of the small island Antonio had spotted, Catalpa looked at him with a new sense of urgency. "We should lay low in Ilisia Kingdom. With a bounty on our heads, we can't afford to get into trouble. We should just get a ship and get out of there."
Antonio agreed. "It's a World Government territory. We don't want to make a scene just yet. We'll be in and out."
The sun began its descent, painting the sky in a brilliant mosaic of colors. "The weather will be clear tonight," Antonio said. "We should get some training done. We don't have a lot of space on this boat, but I can help you with your Observation Haki. We'll reach that uninhabited island by dusk. We'll spar for a bit and rest, and we'll continue in the morning."
Catalpa, a fighter by nature, readily agreed. The boat finally reached the small island, a deserted stretch of sand and tropical plants. They secured the boat, tying it to a massive rock.
Antonio's training method for Observation Haki was as simple as it was brutal. He blindfolded Catalpa, plunging her into a world of pure sound and sensation. He then took a newspaper, rolled it into a tight, hard bat, and began to playfully smack her on the head.
Catalpa was furious. "What's the point of this?" she yelled, trying to swat him.
"You're not thinking with your mind; you're thinking with your eyes," Antonio said, his voice maddeningly calm. "You need to learn to feel the presence of your opponent. You need to learn to sense the air around you. Right now, you're relying on your sight to predict, but your Observation Haki has to become your new eyes. Relax. Listen to the wind. Feel the shift in the air when I move. The moment you anticipate, you'll know where to strike."
Antonio continued to hit her, softly at first, then with increasing speed and force. She took a dozen blows to the head before she began to anticipate his movements. She would feel a subtle change in the air, a whisper of his presence, and she would move, not with her body, but with her instinct. The training was a test of patience and focus, a maddening dance of anticipation and reaction.
After a few hours, the sky was filled with a thousand stars. Antonio removed her blindfold. "You're ready," he said simply.
Catalpa stretched, her muscles screaming in protest. The real test was about to begin. "Get ready to eat those words, kid," she said with a dangerous smirk. "You'll regret leaving your guns behind."
Antonio laughed, a soft, confident chuckle. He began to shed his clothes. First, his coat, which fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Then his shoes, which hit the sand with a weight that was utterly out of place. Finally, his bracelets and gold chain, which clattered to the ground, heavy and solid.
Catalpa's eyes widened. She bent down and tried to lift his coat. She strained, grunted, and finally, with all her strength, she managed to lift it a few inches before dropping it with a sigh. "What in the world is this? Are you wearing this all the time?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.
"I call it weight training," Antonio said, his body now freed from the massive weights. He looked taller, faster, and more powerful than she had ever seen him. "It's good for physical conditioning. It increases my speed, strength, and endurance. And when I take them off, I feel like I'm flying."
Catalpa, impressed and intrigued, nodded slowly. "Let's dance, then, 'Ghost Gun'."
The duel began. Catalpa was a blur of motion, a warrior of the whip-blade, her weapon an extension of her will. She lashed out, her whip-blade hissing through the air with deadly precision. But Antonio was no longer a person; he was a phantom, his body a ghost, a blur of motion that defied the human eye. He dodged every strike with an impossible grace, his movements fluid and beautiful.
Catalpa's anger and frustration grew with every missed hit. Her whip-blade, once a weapon of devastating accuracy, was now just flailing wildly at the air. She poured her Observation Haki into her movements, sensing his presence, but Antonio's Haki was on a completely different level. He was not just sensing her; he was reading her mind, anticipating her every move before she even made it.
Finally, she saw an opening. A single moment of hesitation. She lunged forward, her whip-blade aimed at his heart. But Antonio, his eyes a cold, unwavering red, simply swayed to the side, and then, in a movement so fast she barely saw it, he flicked her in the forehead. The blow was so light, so gentle, that it was a mockery of a strike.
"You lose," Antonio whispered, his voice as soft as the evening breeze.
Catalpa stood motionless, her body humming with the adrenaline of the fight, her mind reeling from the defeat. She had never been beaten so cleanly, so effortlessly. He had not just won; he had dominated her. She was a master of the whip-blade, a warrior of justice, but in front of him, she was a mere novice.
"You're right," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and respect. "I am just a beginner." She looked at him with a new understanding, not just as her captain, but as her teacher. She had been betrayed by her own people, but she had found her true purpose, a new path forward. And she knew that with him, she would find a strength she never knew she had.