A/N: Welcome traveler- have a drink. *Bows*
I do not own One Piece- I barely own enough booze for a single Straw Hat.
"Pirates! Welcome to our island!"
"Give it up for the brave souls traveling the sea!"
"Welcome to the party island, Whiskey Peak!"
"Come drink with us, intrepid adventurers!"
Usopp sat crouched near the rear of the bow. He had one arm wrapped around his knees, head bowed and morosely traced a circle in the woodwork with his finger. He'd been gripped by a poignant, mercifully brief bout of depression, and more appropriately, retroactive embarrassment.
How the hell did he get taken in by such an obvious charade the first time?
"What're you sulking for?" Zoro asked.
The Merry slowed as she neared the shore. Luffy and Sanji stood on either side of the bow, lapping up the excitement and attention respectively. Nami, by contrast, seemed remarkably unimpressed and justifiably suspicious.
"Don't worry about it." Usopp said on a sigh. He got to his feet, running through a few potential scenarios in his head. To his knowledge, they had two primary objectives- pick up Vivi and see Robin. The latter was, admittedly, more for his own peace of mind than anything else. Those were the barest bones of what he remembered and considered important. Granted, he'd been unconscious the first time he'd seen Whiskey Peak, so he'd have to play it by ear.
In the meantime, however, Usopp did require a few subjects for testing a few new toys he'd thrown together. And if he remembered correctly…
He plastered on a grin and puffed out his chest. He waved and affected a laugh.
"Thank you, thank you," he said, injecting his voice with the false bravado of a past life. "Your kind reception is a sight for sore eyes!"
He felt Zoro burning a hole in his head with an unimpressed scowl. He murmured out of the side of his mouth.
"It's free food and drink. Why not con the con artists?"
The swordsman huffed as they docked. He made his way down with his arms crossed.
"Guess I can't argue with that."
Usopp woke up to a foot tapping his ribs. He tensed up immediately, brain flagging, recognizing only that the floorboards beneath him were neither his hammock nor the Merry's galley. A reflexive pulse of Haki and confirmation that his nakama were nearby were the only things that kept his trigger finger still. Even then, he didn't fully relax until he'd fully oriented himself, and recalled that they were at Whiskey Peak.
The sniper chided himself. Orienting himself always took longer than he liked when he dozed. The beer probably hadn't done him any favors, either.
Regardless, involuntary cat naps had officially made it onto his pet peeves list.
"Five more minutes." He mumbled, slurring his words together such that they barely came out coherent. All the better to sell his act of the pirate who'd been taken in by the promise of a party. Someone slid their hands under his arms and dragged him into a backroom. They dropped him without ceremony and he winced as his head struck the floor.
He waited, listening to the fading sound of footsteps until they disappeared. He gave himself an extra, five-second buffer before he sat up and rolled the kinks out of his neck.
"Ugh."
The sniper massaged his forehead, feeling slightly float-y. The seven- eight?- pints were tingling and buzzing through his system.
"This is gonna turn into a headache."
A baritone snort came from nearby. Zoro stretched and yawned as he took to his feet.
"Lightweight."
"Excuse me," Usopp retorted, frowning. "Most humans have what's called an alcohol tolerance. Tolerance, Zoro, not immunity."
"Train harder." The swordsman said with a dismissive shrug.
Usopp sputtered with indignation.
Zoro, the bastard, ignored him and stepped past their unconscious bunkmates.
"You can do what you want," he said. "I can deal with things outside."
Usopp glanced around, hopping upright to shadow the swordsman.
"You don't think we should wake up the others?"
"Nah," Zoro said. "They've had a long day. And the cook'll just get in the way."
From the floor and still asleep, Sanji's pleasant dreams of the ladies he'd been flirting with all night gave way to a murmured
"Shitty marimo."
though, remarkably, the sea chef drifted right back into his own subconscious fantasy.
"Hm," Usopp hummed, noncommittal. "What about Nami?" He said, thinking out loud more than anything- again, the booze probably had something to do with his weakened filter. Though he still didn't put that thought together quite enough to fully re-establish the barrier between his mouth and his brain. "They've got a decent-sized operation going here, they gotta have something worth looting, right? When are we gonna run into another den of bounty hunters?"
Hell, if he hadn't just been through Loguetown's junk shops, he might've been inclined to take a peek at the goodies lying around himself. As it stood, his evening was booked by a live test run.
The aforementioned cartographer jackknifed upright and took her feet inside of a moment, a toothy grin spread wide on her face.
"A brilliant idea, Usopp," she all but sang, peering out the room's one window. "I should've thought of it myself! You'll be drawing their attention," she paused, and actually giggled. "So my part will be cake!"
Zoro's scowl deepened as the navigator slipped out of the room and disappeared, her footfalls surprisingly silent considering her heels.
"Was gonna do that anyway," Zoro grumbled. "Dunno why she had to make it sound like an order from her."
Usopp blinked after Nami, staring at the door.
"Did she seem slightly manic to you, too, or am I just drunk?"
Zoro sat cross legged on one of the rooftops. He watched the mayor guy with huge curls in his hair chat with the broad-shouldered 'nun' who'd been drinking with Nami. They'd dropped the pretense of being brewers pretty quick, though nothing outright threatening had come up in conversation yet. Zoro swept his eyes through the night, tracking any other movement he saw, silently cataloguing their numbers.
He cast a sidelong look at Usopp. The sniper sat next to him, feet dangling over the edge, kicking back and forth.
"What made you think bounty hunters?" He asked quietly. The question was born of a real, if mostly idle sort of curiosity, only halfway a means to pass the time.
Usopp's feet paused mid-swing, and he blinked a few times. Zoro rolled a bottle of bourbon in his hands. Maybe the sniper was more of a lightweight than he'd first assumed.
"Well," Usopp said, though his feet remained still. He tilted his head back. "I mean, who else would be that happy to see a bunch of pirates sailing into their harbor?"
"Hrm."
Zoro mulled that over. Usopp did make a habit of pulling off the unexpected. The Haki, the instruction, the way he seemed to intuitively know their crew mates on first meeting them, the fact that he somehow kept a huge hammer on him with no one the wiser.
And, apparently, the ability to point out bounty hunters.
Zoro's gut told him Usopp actually had recognized their den, if not the organization.
That stuck out in the swordsman's mind, more than anything. A discerning eye for traps like that didn't come from secondhand information or reading a letter. It came from experience, the sort that Zoro had in spades.
Half the things Usopp could do seemed a little incongruous with a kid who, by all accounts, hadn't left his home island populated by a tiny village and one manor.
"I'm just glad it worked," Mr. number, who'd joined the nun and the mayor with Miss day, said below. "That swordsman makes me nervous."
Zoro looked back down over the town.
"I don't see why we bothered with the party," broad nun said. "Not for a couple of no-name pirates. We're thin on rations as it is, and it's not like we have any whale meat coming in."
"That wasn't our fault!" Miss day argued.
Zoro tuned out their bickering, though he kept an eye on them.
"Fair enough," he said to Usopp. "They aren't just bounty hunters, though. Those names- days and numbers- they're handles used by members of a secret organization. They tend to hire bounty hunters whose skill they recognize for muscle."
Zoro chuckled. He'd once been approached for recruitment. Unlike Luffy, though, the messenger hadn't impressed him.
"What's up with that?" Usopp asked, frowning. "If the organization's big on secrecy, why the hell do they use such obviously phony names? Anyone could piece together a pattern like that." The sniper rubbed his chin. "That never made any sense to me. Maybe they're stupid."
Zoro stifled a bark of laughter- though he frowned a second later in consideration.
'Hang on… made sense?'
"Tie them up quickly," mayor curls ordered. "The payoff on their bounty drops by thirty percent if they're dead!"
"Actually," Usopp said, raising his voice. "That only applies to our captain. Most of us don't have bounties. Yet."
Zoro's train of thought took a back seat to the impending fight. He slapped a hand on his knee and stood. The rest of the town residents spilled into the street, each armed with their own weapons.
"He's right," he said, mouth spreading into a grin. "You're still welcome to try and kill us, Baroque Works."
Usopp pulled his legs back and jumped upright, though he swayed a little.
The kid really needed help holding his alcohol.
Mayor curls gave the crowd of thugs the order to kill.
Zoro knew from experience that, in the moment between declaring a fight and starting one, most, less-disciplined people split their attention between their opponent and their weapons.
He exploited that fraction of a moment and, to their eyes, vanished from the rooftop altogether. He hid in plain sight among them, mimicking their confusion.
"Could've hinted some sorta signal, you asshole!"
Usopp shouted, though he had the presence of mind to direct his voice to the space Zoro had occupied rather than give him away. The sniper dove backward from the roof's edge, robbing line of sight from anyone with a gun.
'Announcing your intentions is stupid.'
The agents eventually noticed him. Zoro returned their wide-eyed shock with a blank look. Slowly, he grinned, his expression as close to playful as he came.
'Besides,' he thought. 'This is more fun!'
Flintlock pistols cocked all around him.
Scatter Shot!
Pistols flew out of their owners hands. Ball bearings hit the ground. Zoro disappeared into the crowd again.
"Find him!" Mayor curls barked. "He's only one swordsman!"
Zoro, standing back-to-back with curls, pressed Wado through the taller hunter's hair.
"That's the difference, isn't it?" He said. "You're a bunch of bounty hunters who can wield weapons. I'm a swordsman who used to hunt bounties."
"There he is!"
Another half dozen pistols cocked. The phony mayor went tense and sputtered, yelling
"Don't shoot!"
Zoro's grin turned predatory. At a glance, he'd counted around a hundred bounty hunters. He saw the perfect opportunity to take Yubashiri and Kitetsu out for a real test run.
"Wanna see who's stronger?"
Usopp watched the fight break out in earnest. Igaram, posing as Mr. 8, pulled out a saxophone and scattered the armed hunters with something like a shotgun blast. Zoro, naturally, had moved the second the weaponized instrument made an appearance. The sniper tracked his crew mate until the swordsman rolled backward into a different building to avoid a pistol shot from overhead.
Leaving Zoro to his own fun, Usopp rolled out his neck and took stock. He cast out a little Haki- most of the BW agents were still in the street, around a dozen had taken to the building rooftops, either to get eyes on Zoro or ferret him out.
The sniper reached into his bag. Time to experiment.
The half hour that followed passed in a bit of a blur. His slight buzz probably had something to do with that. Nonetheless, he retained adequate awareness to take mental notes.
Firecracker Spread!
Modeled a bit after his shuriken star, (which he still needed more metal for), the firecrackers dispersed shortly after being ejected from his slingshot. The trickiest part of assembly had been lighting them before release.
Pap.
Pop.
Pow!
A dozen hunters danced in the street to avoid catching one underfoot, though they regrouped within two minutes.
"The hell was that?!"
"Somebody get eyes on that damn sniper brat!"
'Minimal practicality in terms of dealing damage. Decent method of causing alarm among enemies, though fairly situational. Best if used in tandem with other methods of confusion.'
Smoke Star!
Predictably, even relatively experienced bounty hunters struggled a bit when they couldn't see anything. Zero visibility left them disoriented, unnerved, and highly vulnerable to blunt force trauma. From, say, a boomerang.
Klonk.
Thrown by a man who could easily locate targets even within a smokescreen via Haki.
One of the crowd stumbled his way out into the moonlight and spotted Usopp.
"There he is! He's back on the ground!"
'Volume of smoke per pellet could be improved somewhat. Ideal for distraction in virtually any circumstance.'
The sniper ducked into another building, outpacing his pursuers by a full fifteen seconds. He took advantage of his lead to throw a crate into a windowless storage room and left the door ajar before he hid inside a bathroom. With the practice of a full lifetime cowering, he kept quiet until the sound of boots on wooden floorboards paused. He loaded his slingshot, dashed back out into the hall and wrenched the door open.
Usopp Brand Stinkbomb!
The sniper struck those nearest the room's only exit in the face with his shot before he slammed the door shut. Needless to say, those unfortunate few suffered the most. He jammed the door closed with a strategically placed chair and listened for the results.
"It burns!"
"Oh Kami, make it stop!"
"I can't breathe!"
At least one desperate soul stabbed their sword through the door for something resembling ventilation. Usopp strolled out of the building, muttering to himself.
"Reduces the average grunt to tears…" He hummed, walking casually back outside. "Probably most effective in enclosed spaces."
The sniper blinked once he was back out in the open. He sidestepped an attempted stab from a kid. He snatched the boy's wrist. His would-be attacker cried out and dropped the weapon, flinching.
Usopp raised an eyebrow. He released the kid into the care of a distressed, pleading nun.
'Right.'
She reached into her robes, doubtless expecting that his guard had been dropped.
Like he hadn't used that shit a thousand and one times before.
Acidic Star!
He left the 'child' and the 'lady' wailing for real in the street. Both loosed colorful curses that betrayed their actual professions.
"Just toothpaste," he said over his shoulder, jogging toward a ladder to return to higher ground. "Still corrosive, but I haven't figured out the formula for actual acid that can be poured into ammo."
"Fucking brat!"
"Mhm."
A fresh mob chased him up the ladder onto another roof.
"Got yo-ARGH!"
Oil Slick Star!
The poor bastard to reach the top first found his footing lacking in friction. He tumbled backward, falling out of sight ass-first and crashed into the other three or four that had been right behind him.
'Requires proper placement and setup for optimal use. Still, effective… and hilarious.'
Better still, the guy had a bazooka. One that, rather fortuitously, he'd fumbled and dropped in the midst of his unexpected descent.
Usopp's eyes gleamed.
Five seconds later, he reflected on the active evening. In midair. Upside down, after leaping over the street toward an adjacent roof. He lined up the sights on his borrowed bazooka with the wide-eyed crowd that had been pursuing him below.
"Oh shi-!"
The general sentiments of his targets were the same before he fired and scattered them to the four winds.
'I want one.'
The night had been kind of kick-ass, he mused.
His landing, primarily bore by his shoulder, proved markedly less kick-ass. Regardless, he sat up, rolled his neck again and, with a sigh, abandoned his borrowed toy.
No sooner had he taken his feet than he had to duck an attempted strike from a metal bat, one of two wielded by Vivi's weird partner. Mr. something…
"Now you're cornered!"
Usopp blinked.
'Oh,' he thought, weaving around the agent's next swing. 'The number's right on his face. Convenient.'
Mr. 9's fighting style seemed largely comprised of jumping around and performing handsprings in a straight line. His bats lashed out and swung the whole time he moved. It might have been more impressive were it not so predictable. As far as opponents went, he was at least refreshingly simple, if a bit underwhelming. He didn't even rate as the most dangerous enemy with a bat that Usopp had encountered.
Krack!
The onslaught came to a sudden halt. The marksman blinked, waving a hand at the marginally winded agent.
"Hey, uh," he said awkwardly. Mr. 9's head hung a little low, his stance frozen in the final step of his last swing, one bat on the stone rooftop. "Don't get discouraged. You grazed my nose… sort of."
"Oh, shut up!" Mr. 9 shouted, indignant. He took a breath and grinned. "Did you hear that sound? That was Miss Monday, beating down your swordsman friend!"
"Oh," Usopp said blandly, rubbing his temples. He should've asked for water during the party. "Is that what that was?"
"Heh," Mr. 9 chuckled. "Even for a pirate, you're pretty cold."
Usopp shrugged. He worried about his nakama plenty. He knew quite well their capabilities, though. Against someone tougher, more experienced maybe, he might have been a little concerned. Miss Monday only looked to have muscle on her side, though, and… well, if it came down to who could bench press more weight, any trouble she might cause for Zoro amounted to jack and crap.
"You're next!" Mr. 9 declared, throwing himself back into action with a renewed assault.
"All marksmen fight long range because they can't handle in-fighting! The swordsman might have been a challenge, but one hit and you'll"
Usopp bent backward and let Mr. 9 jump right over him into a second story wall. The agent peeled himself off and shouted, red in the face and flush in the neck with frustration.
"Why can't I hit you?!"
"Hey," Usopp said politely. "Can we cut this short? I'm really thirsty and this circus routine of yours isn't helping my headache."
"This is a fight! No breaks!"
"But I'm asking nicely." Usopp groused.
Mr. 9 engaged some mechanism on one of his bats. The head detached and flew toward Usopp, connected to the base by a steel cable.
"This will hold you still!"
Mr. 9 leapt forward, other bat poised to swing.
Usopp tossed his boomerang into the steel cable, tangling it and causing the detached head to veer off course. He stuck out his foot and tripped Mr. 9. In the middle of the agent's graceless fall, the marksman made one more polite, if firm, request for him to desist.
Which he forwarded to the back of his crowned skull. With his hammer.
Mr. 9 graciously acquiesced.
"I was wondering when you'd quit screwing around."
Usopp turned. Zoro had joined him on the rooftop. Aside from four bloodstained marks on his forehead, the swordsman looked no worse for wear.
"You were playing the whole time," Usopp countered, pointing to his wound. "That's why you got tagged and I didn't."
Zoro glared at him without much heat. He opened his mouth for a retort when a cry of incredulity from below caught their attention.
"Ninety percent of our force," Igaram sputtered. "And two of our best agents! The Navy obviously made a mistake- one of them must be the captain!"
Snrk!
Usopp laughed, loud and hard, clutching his side. Zoro spared the sniper an unimpressed glance.
"Wasn't that funny."
"No, not that," Usopp said, gasping. "Just watch his face." He cupped a hand to his mouth. "For your information, the marines in East Blue may only have one decent captain in their ranks, but they aren't that incompetent!"
Igaram frowned, his brow pinched in consternation.
"Lemme put it this way," Usopp offered. "If I'm a squadron, and this guy," he pointed his thumb in Zoro's direction. "Is an army, then our Captain- the man in the straw hat- is a warship."
Igaram's jaw sank like a devil fruit user in the sea. His eyes bugged out, and he momentarily lost control of his sinuses if the snot dangling from his nose was any indication.
"EH~?!"
Usopp busted out renewed laughter at his gobsmacked expression. Zoro tried to keep stoic, but failed to hide a snort behind his fist.
"Told you!"
"That was a cough, moron." He said, still smiling.
"Liar."
"You mean this captain?" Vivi asked as Miss Wednesday. She held a still-snoring, overstuffed Luffy at knife point. "Doesn't seem that dangerous to me."
"That dumbass," Zoro sighed. "He could at least be awake when he gets taken hostage."
The swordsman stooped to grab the steel cable from Mr. 9's bat, still clutched in the unconscious agent's hand.
"Excellent work, Miss Wednesday!" Igaram said, tugging on his string bowtie. Large gun barrels popped out of his six huge curls.
"Which one do you want?" Usopp asked, twirling his slingshot in his hand.
"You deal with mayor curls," Zoro said. Igaram began singing, which seemed to be part of some sort of speech quirk. "I'll save our idiot captain."
"Try anything and I'll"
Vivi never finished her threat. With a grunt, Zoro hoisted Mr. 9 and swung him into her like a ball and chain. Usopp took aim and fired off six shots in rapid succession, seconds before Igaram activated his trigger.
Special Mix: Instant Superglue Shot!
The pellets hit home, directly inside each of the six barrels. The undercover royal captain had a moment of unfortunate realization just after he gave his bowtie another tug.
"Oh, f"
Boom!
With nowhere to go given the jammed barrels, the gunpowder detonated inside his hair. Head smoking, Igaram expelled a weak cough and sank to his knees.
"Finally," Zoro said, plopping down where they stood. "A quiet night."
Usopp hummed, glancing at Luffy.
"Should we get him out of the street?"
"Why bother?" Zoro asked. "We dealt with all potential threats."
Usopp jumped down to ground level.
"He doesn't need a babysitter!" Zoro called after him.
"I'm not down here for Luffy," Usopp shot back. "My boomerang was tied up in that cable you sent flying!"