The blood mist descended slowly onto the beach of Burubu Island. Rhett set the girl down. The old chief hurried over.
"Kid! You're back! I searched everywhere for you."
He looked Rhett over, relieved he was unharmed. Then his face turned serious.
"You're too reckless! You went out into unknown waters with just that... 'devil's power'? Even I know the sea is dangerous. And you, a young man, just run off."
"I read the Know-Leaves! People with your power are weak to seawater! A bucket of water can bring you down! How could you go without a reliable ship?"
The questions came like bullets. Rhett couldn't get a word in.
He grinned and waved his hand.
"Relax, old man. It's not as bad as you think."
"Seawater? It's like being stuck in a mud pit. It makes you feel weak and tired. Very unpleasant. But..." He paused.
"Old man, seawater is for self-defense. Don't rely on it to beat a real fighter. If you face someone like me, just hide in my mist. When the gap in power is big enough, seawater doesn't matter."
The chief was confused. "Really? Seawater just makes you tired?"
"Otherwise?" Rhett raised an eyebrow. "It works on weaklings though."
The chief: "..." That made sense, but something felt off.
Rhett changed the subject. "The ship, old man. How's it going? Almost done?" He was ready to set sail.
The chief looked awkward. He pointed at the ship frame, only the keel and some ribs built.
"Kid, building a seaworthy ship isn't like stacking sticks! It takes time! The wood needs to be treated to resist the sea. At least three more months!"
"Three months?!" Rhett's voice rose.
Not in complaint, but in surprise. He knew shipbuilding took time, but with their tools, three months seemed fast. Tom had taken half a year.
"Kid, don't doubt us!"
"Of course not!"
"Liar! You're doubting us! Don't underestimate our skills!"
Rhett looked at the half-built ship, then at the vast sea.
"Fine, fine. Three months." He ran a hand through his hair. He had just gotten a good haul of "pocket money" and life force. He wasn't lacking anything.
He looked at the quiet girl beside him. Good. This would give her time to adjust and "train."
So, Rhett and his "future" vice captain settled on the small island.
Life became peaceful, at least for Rhett.
Most days, he was a lazy bum, lying under a tree, watching the tribe work, or... teasing his silent vice captain.
One day, he was leaning against a tree, watching her struggle on the beach.
A faint cold gathered above her palm. A rough, crooked ice crystal formed. It melted quickly. Ugly.
"Pfft."
She paused and looked at him.
Rhett felt a little guilty. She had learned to stare at him to show displeasure.
But he was Evil Rhett. He would stare back.
"Sorry, kid."
She nodded, forgiving him. Then she tried again. The ice was a little better.
Rhett didn't interrupt until she frowned in frustration.
"Hey, kid."
She looked up, confused.
He stood up, walking toward her. Blood mist flowed from him. A small blood dragon appeared in his hand.
"Power, especially Devil Fruit power, you have to find what feels right to use it well. It's all about will. If you can imagine it, you can make it."
He waved his hand. "Don't just force it."
He dismissed the dragon.
"Ask yourself: what do you want this power to look like? How do you want to 'express' it?"
He pointed at himself. "I like the mist's mystery, the dragon's strength and majesty. So my power looks like this."
The little dragon wiggled in the air. She seemed confused.
He formed a throne from the mist. "See? This comes from my own taste. But don't be bound by form. I'm teaching you to use this power, not to limit it."
A spark lit in her eyes. She looked at her empty palm, thinking.
No one had ever asked her what she liked.
After a long silence, she slowly raised her hand.
This time, she didn't force the cold. She closed her eyes, remembering, sensing.
A faint cold appeared again. But it had purpose.
It twisted and shaped, still weak and unstable. But its form was clear.
A petal.
Rough and imperfect, but clearly a rose petal. It lasted a moment, then fell and melted.
She opened her eyes, looking at the fading wet spot. She looked at Rhett. For the first time, her empty eyes held something like... hope.