"Ugh~~"
Stussy gagged. The Mirror-Mirror Fruit tasted like rotting compost, but she forced it down. She wiped her mouth, shuddering as the power settled into her DNA.
York nodded, then turned to Dragon.
"Aren't you going to pick one?"
Dragon blinked, startled. "Me?"
He took a step back. "I just joined. I haven't done anything to deserve—"
WHOOSH.
York didn't let him finish. He grabbed the distinct, swirling green fruit—the Logia: Wind-Wind Fruit (Hurricane)—and tossed it through the air.
Dragon fumbled to catch it.
"Are you looking down on me?!" York's voice boomed, arrogant and commanding.
"From the moment you agreed to join, you became my companion!"
"I give my companions absolute trust!"
York stepped closer, his Haki flaring slightly.
"You said if I couldn't fulfill my promises, you'd leave? Fine!"
"If I can't even trust my own crew with power, then I deserve to be abandoned!"
"Now, as your Captain, I order you: Eat it!"
Dragon stared at the fruit in his hands.
A Logia. The rarest class of Devil Fruit. Given to a deserter he met hours ago.
Dragon looked at York's confident grin. The man wasn't buying his loyalty with money; he was buying it with overwhelming faith.
Dragon felt a lump in his throat. For the first time since God Valley, he felt he had found a leader worth dying for.
Dragon took a deep breath. His eyes hardened with resolve.
"Captain York."
"If you trust me this much... then let us drink the Sworn Brotherhood Wine!"
York raised an eyebrow.
"Are you sure? Once we exchange cups, leaving won't be easy. Betrayal has a price."
Dragon nodded.
"I have nothing to offer but my life. This fruit... this trust... the only way I can repay you is with absolute loyalty!"
The Sakazuki Ritual.
York turned to Kaido.
"You too, Kaido. You're in this."
"Worororo! Fine by me!"
They didn't need a grand shrine. A table in an Ohara tavern sufficed.
Shakky, Stussy, and Gloriosa served as witnesses. They filled a large bowl with sake.
York drew a knife and sliced his palm. Drip.
Kaido followed. Drip.
Dragon followed. Drip.
The blood mingled with the wine.
"To the sea. To our dreams. To our brotherhood."
They poured the mixture into three smaller bowls.
They drank.
Then, following ancient pirate tradition, they each smeared a drop of bloody wine onto a gold coin and tossed it out the window, into the ocean.
An offering to Davy Jones. A pact sealed by the sea itself.
The ceremony was complete.
Atlas D. York, Kaido, and Monkey D. Dragon were now sworn brothers.
Dragon didn't hesitate anymore. He bit into the Wind-Wind Fruit.
CRUNCH.
Wind began to swirl around his feet, rustling his cloak. The power of the storm was now his.
York watched him, satisfied. Then he glanced at Teach, who was fast asleep in Shakky's arms.
The Dark-Dark Fruit (Yami Yami no Mi) sat on the table.
'He's too young,' York thought. 'If I give it to him now, he won't understand the value. I'll save it for when he's older.'
"By the way, Captain," Dragon asked, wiping fruit juice from his lip. "What is our crew called?"
The room went silent. Everyone looked at York.
They realized they had been sailing on a stolen ship with no name and no flag.
"We don't have one yet," York admitted. "Any ideas?"
Gloriosa: "How about the Fallen Pirates? Your title is 'Lord of the Fallen' (Corruption). It fits."
Shakky: "I like it."
Stussy: "Sounds mysterious."
Kaido: "WORORORO! No! We should be the Evil Pirates! Or the Beast Pirates!"
Dragon: "No." The former Marine shook his head. "York wants to feed the world. We need something righteous. How about the Paladin Pirates?"
York grimaced. "Paladin? That sounds like the 'God's Knights.' Too soft."
"I've already decided."
York reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of cloth.
He unfurled it.
It was a Red Flag.
In the center was the traditional Jolly Roger skull. But surrounding the skull were stalks of golden wheat and rice.
"We are the Crimson Harvest Pirates."
The crew stared at it.
"Crimson Harvest?" Kaido scratched his chin. "Sounds bloody. I like it."
"Does it mean something?" Gloriosa asked, eyeing the wheat.
"Listen," York said, his voice rising with conviction.
"When the Crimson Harvest fills the world... we will trample the Holy Land and admire the cherry blossoms atop the ruins of the nobility!"
"I'm not taking the 'Elite Pirate' route like Roger. I'm taking the Conquest route."
"The wheat represents the harvest—food and prosperity for the masses. The crimson background and the skull represent the blood it will take to reap it. Death to the oppressors."
"Imagine it," York spread his arms. "In the future, the seas will be covered in our Crimson flags. And our enemies—the Marines and the World Government—will be forced to fly White flags!"
Dragon's eyes widened. He looked at the flag again. Now, he saw it. The symbolism of blood, bread, and revolution.
"The Harvest... and the blood required to sow it," Dragon murmured. "It fits perfectly."
Kaido grinned. "Trampling the Holy Land? Worororo! I like that part!"
"Fine," Shakky smiled, lighting her cigarette. "You're the Captain."
And so, in a quiet tavern under the Tree of Knowledge, the Crimson Harvest Pirates were born.
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