Bounty Seven Chapter 20: Ghost Ship, Part 5, an one piece fanfic

Time for the finale – unfortunately, not including root beer.

One Piece: Bounty Seven

Chapter Twenty: Ghost Ship, Part 5

"So, dead guy."

"It's Bob."

"Dead Guy Bob." Adrian corrected. "What's the deal here, exactly? You're with these guys, so why help us? Not that I think you're leading us into a trap, or anything, 'cause, heh, I think we both know how that would end." She chuckled, not noticing the look Bob gave her. "Just curious, that's all."

The skeleton shrugged morosely. A skeleton could shrug like nobody's business. "Yeah, I guess it's nothing special. Basically, all those times you wished you could live forever? You probably never added 'with a guy who's either charmingly stupid, or terrifyingly insane, with a switch between them that's broken and lubed with grease."

Adrian nodded. "Oh, yeah, makes sense. Got it."

Asakura gave her a sideways look. "Why was that necessary, exactly?"

"Hey, you should always give your client the attention they deserve."

"You are an assassin."

"I'm aware."

Bob looked back and stared. "You two are weird, you know that?"

They glared. He just shrugged back. "Just saying."

Asakura sighed.

Siegfried turned as the door opened, and frowned when he saw two massive skeletal crewmen on the other side. If alive, they probably would have been barrel-chested instead of xylophones. It didn't help matters that Ripfang grinned widely at their presence. "Ah, was wonderin' when you'd get here, boys." He gestured at the captive young man. "Take him up top. It's almost time for the main event, eh?"

The skeletons' burning eyes said nothing. Striding up to the table, they quickly undid the binds, retying them around Siegfried's wrists just as fast before he could make a move. One flung him over his shoulder, while the other placed a rusty cutlass near his throat. It was certainly a bluff, but one that would make moving a very uncomfortable prospect. Ripfang grinned at the simple loss of freedom, striding out of the room ahead of them. "Come on, boys; it's time for me to personally blow this clou – what in Hades' name is so funny?"

"Oh, nothing." Siegfried was oddly satisfied to see one of the bruisers suppressing a snicker himself.

Ripfang glared, and snapped his finger-bones again. That same crewmate retrieved a thick ball-gag, shoving it into the bounty hunter's mouth. "Ahhhh, now why didn't I do that before? Now, boys, let's-"

Without waiting, his men rushed away, carrying their cargo and heading for the stairs upward. He stared at their backs for a second, before hobbling after with shocking speed. "Wait, you idiots! I didn't say to go before me!"

A moment or two later, and just one or two late, a familiar orb of light floated up out of the floorboards in the hallway. "Captain, Captain, I…aw, dangit, I should have totally known this was gonna happen! I have to warn him fast – if those two get up top, they could ruin everything!"

Hovering closer to the ground, Elly returned to her human form. Barely wasting time to stretch, she turned to run. She'd tried to fly in the hallways here a few times, and it…definitely hadn't ended well. All of a sudden, though, she had what sounded like a gust of wind. On a ship where that was completely, positively, absolutely, impossible. Slowly, the ghost girl turned around-

"Hi there, Polly." Adrian grinned. Before Elly had the chance to reply (if not with a scream, then definitely about how lame a joke that was), she was backhanded straight into the wall. The Black Cat waited as the imp slid down the planks a moment, then turned to Asakura with a smirk. "Wow, that was really hard. She nearly had me there, I think!"

"Does your mouth ever shut?"

"Does your ass ever-"

Bob cleared his throat, a real sight to see when it was see-through. "Um, pardon me, ladies, but I feel like I should mention a hit like that isn't going to take her out for long. Being dead tends to take the sting off most things, y'know…well, I guess you wouldn't."

Adrian frowned. "Guess she's crap for a hostage, then. Unless you have an exorcist's kit in your bag of tricks, Birdy."

The shinobi shook her head. "This is the first time I have encountered the supernatural in such a way."

"In that case…" Asakura watched as the other woman crouched. "I should hurry. Try and keep up, if you can."

One use of Soru later, Adrian had vanished down the hallway. Frowning, the masked woman followed. "Get to somewhere safe," she said back to Bob, "if one can be found on this vessel."

"Not where you're going, that's for sure. Uh…" Bob searched for something a bit livelier (heh, heh) to say, but by the time it was on the tip of what used to be his tongue, she'd already vanished around a corner. "Good luck, I guess."

"Wait up, ye barnacle brains! The Captain has to make his entrance first!"

The bruisers obligingly stepped aside, grumbling under their breath as Ripfang stamped up. Grinning, he adjusted his smoldering outfit, then flourished with his hook. "Ha ha ha – you're both lucky, though, now I come to think of it. Ye'll be the first to witness something grand. The revival of the fearsome, infamous, mighty CAPTAIN RIP-"

At that moment, both crewmates hit the floor. He wouldn't have minded much, except it was the part he was currently standing on. Ripfang's chin bounced off the floor with a resounding crack, stunning him for a moment before he turned transparent. "What…."

He rose up from the floor, eyes glowing like coals in a furnace. "ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING!?"

"Getting punched by me, duh. Weren't you watching?"

Before he had the chance to fully comprehend the pretty-boy in front of him, the ghost pirate found a fist on the fast track toward his face – about a one-second track. The blow caught him between the eyes, rattling his spectral head like a toy. A few more punches followed, knocking the pale skull back on the rebound. Adrian drew her hand back for a stronger blow, and felt a chill run down her bones.

"Those have to be the dullest, girliest punches I've ever felt," he sneered, "who taught ye how to fight, landlubber – yer sweetheart?"

He could tell he'd pushed a button right away. Just like a landlubber, goin' pink just at the thought of his dear girlie. Huh, probably had pick of the litter, too, looking like that. Men these days, honestly; he'd have to do a whale of a number on the boy's body to make it presentable, now he came to think of it.

This train of thought continued even as Ripfang's head disappeared through the ceiling, carried there by a Geppou from Adrian. She grit her teeth, just before he threw her down at the floor. A fall like that wasn't a problem, of course, but the ghostly fire he threw down after was a bit more complicated. A quick back-flip avoided it, but that left Siegfried between him and ol' ghostie as he floated down.

"That's useless, ye see?" he said, offering a smile free of amusement. "I left me body behind long ago. While I'm caught between two realms, you're stuck in this one. There's no way for any live landlubber to hurt me!"

Adrian sneered. "You know, I don't think you know quite how many people have said that to me, buddy boy. I don't know who dusted you, asshole, but I don't leave people or food half-finished. Which one do you feel like being?"

On the floor, Siegfried uttered something inaudible behind his gag. Just as well; it would have fallen on deaf ears regardless.

Ripfang snarled, waving his cutlass and sending another wave of fire down the hall toward her. "Rankyaku!" she yelled, spinning to launch a straight blade of wind at the ghostly attack. It dispelled the flames, for about one or two seconds, before they rushed forward again. She clicked her tongue, and lashed out with her legs again rapidly, even as the flames licked away at them.

"Rankyaku; Lion's Roar!"

The larger wave split the fire to either side of the corridor, opening a spot just wide enough for her to leap through. It faded behind Adrian as she closed the distance again, directing a lightning fast kick at his ribcage. If he was even capable of dodging it, Ripfang sure didn't bother, taking the hit and reacting about as much as a redwood tree would have. She grit her teeth, going for a second blow, but the ghostly buccaneer swung his cutlass down in a vicious hack toward the assassin's head. It was a proper move for cutting weeds, but not her in a million years. As Adrian ducked aside easily, however, the flames licking the blade reached out to touch her regardless. It made the grasp from before feel like a sauna.

Ripfang laughed as she faltered, the sheer cold freezing up her movement completely. "Fast, ain't ya? But not everyone can run free through hell, ye know." He slowly held up his hand, while her legs shook uselessly. "Let me show you how it's done, landlubber. Black Spot Billow!"

The flame that shot out from his bony fingers did indeed grow darker as it flew, but a moment later that was the farthest thing on Adrian's mind. Uttering the first true scream she had in years, The Black Cat flew backward, frozen limbs sliding on the wooden boards. The fire had burned, yes, obliterating her outfit where it hit in the stomach, but it was a cold burn, one that went somewhere deeper than flesh or bone.

A few more hits like that, and she'd be done for, one way or the other. She had to get up, fight back, do something that wasn't lying here like a useless lump of nothing. But she couldn't. The attack wouldn't even allow her the benefit of being out of it – he wanted her wide awake for this, right? "Huh, talking about typical..."

As her body twitched, Ripfang thumped up on his peg leg. "Thrashing about like that; typical. You're just as lost here as a guppy is above water." He grinned. "O' course, that's not the only thing you have in common right now…"

She didn't whimper, or anything. That had never worked out for her before, why would it start now? No, Adrian just shut her eyes, anticipating the thunk of metal hitting flesh. He wasn't going to get anything more out of her than that.

But it didn't come. And even the thought of him drawing it out was dispelled as the pirate cried, "Ye little bilgerat, leggo!"

The assassin had two guesses, and neither of 'em counted, even if she'd have preferred it that way. Saved by Siegfried? While he was tied up?

Only thing worse than that would be-

With a whistle, the meaty thud she had anticipated hit home. She opened her eyes to see a kunai protruding from Ripfang's neck. He looked down at it, seeming vaguely annoyed. "Now that's just plain bad manners." Making an unpleasant noise deep within his throat, he flexed, literally popping the weapon straight out. It clattered on the floor as a few wisps of ectoplasm seeped out of the non-wound for a moment, before flowing right back into him.

Asakura clicked her tongue, earning a smile from the captain. "Oh, ye really expected that to work, eh? Cute. But, you see, it's pointless. I'm indestroyable in this form now."

The shinobi shook her head. "Everyone must have a weakness, even one who died long ago. It is merely a matter of locating it."

Ripfang chuckled. "Ye mean to find something that don't exist? I think that mask is on a wee bit too tight, girlie."

A replacement kunai and knife were added to the woman's hands. "I assure you, we will-"

Both the pirate captain and the hunter shinobi had thoroughly written off Adrian at this point, like she hadn't been there to begin with. This was about to be both good and bad, depending on who you-

"GOD -ING DAMMIIIIIIIT!"

-or maybe just very, very bad. Asakura's eyes widened, but Ripfang's beat her by degrees as the assassin rose like it was the easiest thing in the world. She stared right at him, like a lion who'd just spotted a lone gazelle across the savannah.

"Ye must be joking! There's no way in HELL that's-"

"I DON'T…" It was a very impressive trick of perception that Adrian's fist somehow moved in slow motion. After all, it wasn't like he had any chance of dodging. "-ING CARE!"

A moment later, Asakura raised her head to stare at the Ripfang-sized hole that was left in the ghost ship's roof. "That was…something." She just didn't know what.

Adrian let out a long exhale. "And I couldn't have done it without you."

Letting the birdie purse her lips, she strode forward and bent to remove Siegfried's gag. The first words out of his mouth were, "That wasn't very mature of you, kitten."

The gag went back on. "Now, I'm not sure I heard that right." She tapped the side of one ear. "Got rattled a bit, y'know? Now, what did you say?"

"I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Lady Bartley – would that I can prove worthy of such a glorious res-"

Aaaaand back on again. "Alright, close enough." Spinning him around, she quickly undid the bonds. "You couldn't have gotten out of these yourself? Come on, man."

As an after-thought she tugged out the gag. "The thought of fighting an entire vessel of ghosts may have helped matters there. And, to speak of the devil-"

A scream of pure rage came from up the stairs.

"-I hope you didn't get too tired out."

Trying to fight in the corridor would be suicide – and worse, look most undramatic. As they climbed the steps, a nose came back down toward them: a rhythmic thumping that only intensified. A low chanting grew along with it; there were no words, but the intent was very clear. Siegfried felt a twinge go down his spine. There was a power behind the droning, even if they might not know it. The planks underneath his feet shivered, like the ship had awakened, and was just as angry as its Captain.

Despite himself, the young man was a little nervous. There was no telling how powerful Ripfang really was beneath all the bluster. A spirit of hate like him, trapped on this vessel for so long to stew in his own anger…he had an idea of how to defeat the ghost, but killing the man entirely might be beyond even him. Not that he wasn't going to try his hardest, of course.

Even as he made that resolution, however, it was hard for it not to be shaken by the sight of the ghostly captain. Ripfang stood at the top-most mast, just below the crow's nest, staring down at the three with hard eyes. There was no wind in this realm, but his shimmering beard whipped to and fro nonetheless. A flash of lightning lit his skeletal form, high-lighting the burning flame that composed him.

"Ye know," he breathed, sending wisps of smoke billowing out, "I may have to actually thank you three, believe it or no. I haven't felt this much hate for a person in a long time. Emotions and whatnot may as well be food for me as I am now, and that one is as good as a full course dinner, complete with the apple in the pig's mouth." He licked his lips, displaying the patchwork teeth underneath. "Delish."

The captain's hook was thrust out toward Siegfried, and as one the crew turned from looking up at their leader to glaring at the trio, not stopping their drumming an instant. From sailor to pirate, not one of them viewed the living humans as anything more than pieces of meat. "Well, I guess that's one way of getting commitment." murmured Adrian, looking like she could use a cigarette. "Most of my guys usually use money, but this is good too."

"I am glad you can still find this amusing."

"What, you want to take all of this seriously?"

Ripfang didn't notice the commentary. "And I think…" he began, tapping his peg leg on the mast's surface, "that once I have your body, delays be damned, I'll do a little something with your soul for desert. Turn it into a chair, since you have such a strong backbone." He grinned a sick, mad grin. "Maybe I'll let ye scream a wee bit each day, just so ye don't get bored."

His gaze changed to a leer, and went to the two women. They glared back. "As for yer friends, well…a crew runs on its stomach, eh?"

Siegfried shook his head. "That's enough food metaphors, I think. The atmosphere is a bit counterproductive for it, not to mention your face." He brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes. "I'll have to decline; becoming a stool sounds dreadfully boring. I have things to do, and what would my fans think?"

Adrian raised an eyebrow. He was laying it on a bit thick, there, and – something caught her eyes: Siegfried's clenched hands trembling ever so slightly. She frowned, and tried to look like she hadn't noticed. Not like anyone could blame him, but it was a bad omen even for someone named after one. Meanwhile, the undead crew had begun advancing steadily, brandishing whatever weapons they carried. The drumming was almost better than the silence that had come over them now.

"Nothing special tonight, lads. Kill the wenches, and bring me the boy. Break one o' his legs if you have to, I don't mind."

There was nothing to say as the undead charged the three. Each of them were thinking roughly the same thing: "This is going to suck."

The important thing was to keep moving, and make sure the stairs were at their back; super-human abilities wouldn't matter much if you were surrounded by these enemies. But each of them were more than experienced at facing multiple foes, if live ones.

Adrian had a simple job of it – the ghostly crewmen were fast, owing to their condition, but simply hadn't been trained to deal with someone who could move like her. Spears were avoided as she went flat as paper, sword snapped in two on suddenly iron skin, and limbs and even torsos went flying from Rankyakus sent in every direction. When all else failed the assassin simply went straight up, often taking several of the crewmen with her. She took the opportunity to send some overboard, but it was like drowning one fly out of a swarm.

With less physical power to go around, Asakura took a different approach, ducking and weaving in and out of attacks, creating wind when that was not an option. Her fight was a more difficult one; while a blade to the eye would ensure a normal pirate could not resume the fight in a hurry, these were not so easily dissuaded. She was forced to get creative, throwing knives to sever tendons and pin down enemies with several projectiles at once. The only permanent form of attack she had was throwing them overboard as well.

Siegfried, on the other hand… "AAAAAAAH!" …didn't seem to be having much trouble. The unfortunate crewmen flew back across the deck from the blow, a simple boxer's jab, and lay contorting on the rotten deck, face one of pure agony. This was lost on his comrades, under Ripfang's control as they were, but that was fine by him. He moved carefully, striking again and again with similar results. "Well, that confirms my hunch; these men are all held together by their minds now. Even a small blow from me will hit their entire being – it's like I was written to fight them."

"Lucky you. What was your plan if that didn't work out, exactly?"

"…I'm a bit busy right now, kitten."

Up above, Ripfang tapped his foot like someone waiting for their laundry to dry. "Issat 'it? Awfully disappointing, laddies. Or should I say ladies?"

Lifting his cutlass to the sky, he jabbed it toward the three of them, uttering a feral, wordless bark. Like a rearing whale, the ship's deck began to quake under them; the rotten wood's creaking now sounded more like the cry of a beast. "What now?" Adrian muttered.

Probably not what she was expecting, was what. With a snapping noise from below, a rusted hunk of metal rose into view off the side railing; one of the vessel's ancient cannons. The crewmen backed away quickly, but there was no way something that old could-

"Jolly Roger Barrage!"

Well, there was no way it could fire cannonballs anymore, but massive fireballs shaped like skulls were apparently hunky-dory. The trio scrambled out of the way as it screamed down onto the deck, exploding in a cloud of embers that failed to harm the deck or those manning it. Siegfried had a strong suspicion the same wouldn't hold true for them.

More shots came, slowly, but the crewmen had changed tactics. Rather than fighting to wound their living foes, they simply tried to pin them down, aiming to grab limbs with their in-human strength, bog them down with a press of bodies, and even impale them to the deck with weapons. They didn't seem to care what they received in the process, which wasn't good, and seemed to be affected less by their attacks now, which was even worse.

Sooner or later one of them would be hit, and fortune, evidently feeling scorned at the moment, chose the former. A cry of anguish ripped from behind Asakura's mask as just a scant few embers landed on her back. She fell to her knees as a crewmember grinned, raising a spiked axe.

"Yeah, see?" Adrian said, punching him across the deck, scooping up the shinobi, and coming down next to Siegfried in the next instant. "Hurts, doesn't it? So it's not a surprise I wasn't able to get up for a bit, right!?"

He stared. Asakura went a step further. "What…are you talking about?"

"…nothin'."

Very droll indeed, but Siegfried could do without a repeat performance. Thrusting out his hand, he swept it up toward the mast. The discarded axe shook before flinging itself upward at the captain like a javelin. Ripfang sneered, swinging his own weapon around to deflect it into the wood. "Nice try, boy, but you'll need to wake up earlier than that!"

He snapped his fingers, and the cannon loaded (was that quite the right word?) another shot.

Siegfried adjusted his shades, frowning. "Kitten, could you-" But he needn't have said anything. Adrian was already halfway across the deck, legs tensed to carry her all the way up to the artillery.

As soon as she was airborne, however, the water broke beneath her, revealing a massive form. Dagon bellowed a roar of vengeance as he rose through the air toward Adrian, tentacles all teaching for her as one. She grinned. "Was wondering when you'd show your smelly face again." As the appendages flailed at her, the Black Cat went into a series of geppous, evading them as easily as a bird. "It's just too bad I'm busy right now!" After one final leap, off the top of his skull, she was face to face with the cannon – now just about to fire.

Ripfang cackled. "A glutton for punishment, ain't ye? The pain this time 'll be – AAAAAAH!"

Well, probably more than a telekinetic-propelled axe to the back, but hey, you can't win them all. Reaching up, he tore the weapon out and tossed it away like a splinter, but the moment of pain had cost him his concentration. The flames died down, allowing Adrian enough time to throw out a rankyaku directly into the cannon's bore.

She didn't actually havemuch idea what would happen with that maneuver, but…actually, the explosion was pretty accurate. Maybe a bit bluer than you'd think, though. Nice and red, that was a real explosion; but at least it lit up the gloom a bit. Flipping back to the deck as shrapnel rained down, she raised her middle finger up at the mast, grinning.

Adrian then watched, tapping her foot, as the new problem dragged itself out of the dead sea like a bad meal. Dagon shook a few bits of metal out of his hide (the wounds, naturally, healing pretty much instantly), and bared his teeth at the assassin.

"Yeah, yeah…Sieg, I gotta deal with this jerk, alright?" Luckily it didn't seem like any of his buddies wanted to get near him, hypnotism or no. Not like she could really blame them.

"'course, I must be the first bit of tough meat you've seen in years, ain't I?" she asked, grinning eagerly. "Too tough for you, though."

Siegfried watched from where he still stood, frowning, and as a result was nearly turned into a meat locker's display. The hooks and ropes that made up the ship's rickety sails had come loose, now being led like an orchestra by Ripfang's sword. As the rusty hook swung off to the side (uncomfortably close to his face), another slithered toward him, along with two thick ropes. "Stringing me up, eh? Do the tar and feathers come after?"

But this wasn't a laughing matter. He couldn't exactly stop them with punches, and interfering with Ripfang's control was impossible with this many sources. Dancing backward to avoid ropes, hooks and crewmen, the psychic called across: "Asakura, I could use…"

"Of course." the shinobi murmured, dodging aside a thrown spear and thrusting out her hands. A gust of wind ripped through the rigging, knocking them astray just enough to give Siegfried an opening. Uttering a quick word of thanks, he rushed forward…

…only for the planking before him to disappear in a single instant. "NOOOOOOO WAY!" Elly crowed, rising out of the opening. "I've had enough of you trying to bully the Captain!" Her talons swung in toward the bounty hunter's throat.

Siegfried threw up his arm, unable to come to a halt in time. "B-blast-!"

Had Asakura predicted something like this, or simply prepared another of her arts that quickly? He wasn't sure which would be more impressive, but either amounted to the same thing; a sharp gust pulled him backward while at the same time her footsteps approached on the deck behind him. Springing off his back, Asakura shoved herself forward in a tackle. They both fell away to the side, Elly letting out a chirp of outrage.

Nodding his thanks, he leaped forward, snatching up one of the scattered ropes like it were a thrashing anaconda. Dashing forward, Siegfried jumped, swinging on it like one of those serial heroes. As the other hooks resumed their pursuit, the mast rose up before him. Thrusting out his feet, he kicked off at just the right moment, going higher as the wood was sliced raw below. Ripfang took a half-step backward, face turning unsure as the bounty hunter came uncomfortably close.

But no matter for the great Captain Northwind, eh? A quick slash of his cutlass sent the aura lining it flickering outward, cutting the rope like a piece of confetti.

As he began to fall, down into a horde of upstretched blades, Siegfried's hands went up, up, up…

And Lady Luck returned. His fingers just barely wrapped around the topsail; he gripped it like a life-line as he swung himself up and around. Ripfang whirled around (remarkably quick on that peg-leg, wasn't he?), lashing out with the cutlass. It sliced through his coat just as easily as it had the rope, biting into the shoulder underneath with pure cold.

Siegfried tensed up; Adrian had been quite right, but he wasn't quite enough of a gentleman to appreciate a lady being right when he was in, well, agony. It didn't feel like his arm had been cut off. That would have been a comfort in comparison.

But his other arm was just within reach. Ripfang had started cackling when his attack hit – the fist to his jaw put a stop to that. He staggered, and the psychic forced himself onto the mast, adding a kick to the chest along with it. The great captain fell to the deck, screaming all the way.

Resisting the urge to sink to his knees now that immediate danger had passed, Siegfried took in a few much-needed gasps of breath. The blade might as well have pierced a lung. Then, looking down for a moment, he leaped off, sliding down one of the limp ropes.

"…hate you…can't even say how much…but hate you!" Ripfang hissed, nose to the rotten boards. He must have gotten stuck somehow, and he came free in a shower of splinters – that promptly hurled themselves like miniature arrows at the bounty hunter. Siegfried whistled. "You can make anything into this ship a weapon, then? Quite a nasty mind you have there. Geist Schilde!"

The tiny missiles panged off the mental barricade, while the captain turned to face him fully. He was nearly sick and a pin-cushion, in that order.

Maybe it was because of Ripfang being an older ghost than the rest, or perhaps he'd just punched harder this time. Either way, it didn't look pretty: the captain's skull had literally melted off where he'd been struck, leaving a glob of him splattered on the deck and a gaping hole in his forehead. It was like part of his existence had been punched away, and it showed. As the attack petered out, his eyes rolled in their spectral sockets, and a foggy breath left his mouth.

"Must feel so proud," he hissed, "landing a punch on an old seadog, eh? Feel free; it don't matter a barnacle's bottom." His flames reared up, filling the hole Siegfried had made. His beard almost looked like a mane. "Because I'm CAPTAIN RIPFANG NORTHWIND!"

That kind of declaration was begging for a remark from him, and would have been given one if his mouth wasn't snapped shut. Coming off the ghost pirate now was nothing less than pure blood-lust. "Was this what his crew felt, just before the end?" He clenched a fist slowly.

"I'll burn ya down to nothing, boy! Skull N' Crossbones!"

He slashed out with his cutlass twice, then bent back and blew. The end result was a fiery image of a Jolly Roger hurtling toward the young man – artistic and deadly. The space between them looked conveniently open, but…Siegfried frowned as crewmen appeared on either side of him. "Straight on ahead it is, then."

Just an inch or two off meant his legs, or worse, head would be useless. There'd been lessons like this, but they were useless now. You either had it, or you'd had it. You could analyze the right angle and distance all day, but what you needed were-

"Instincts!" he thought, and leaped. The gap stretched before him like a light at the end of a tunnel. And like many lights, it turned out to be a cart going the other way. The gap closed swiftly and cruelly, just what you'd expect from a man like him. Of course, that was why Siegfried had expected it, projecting his thoughts into a shield around himself as he leaped. The flames scorched at him and his clothes, and what he felt was nearly indescribable, but he made it through.

And found himself right in the path of a blade. Siegfried flung his hands together just in time to halt the cutlass an inch away from his nose. Ripfang smiled right back, and slashed his hook hand toward the young man's ordinary ones.

"…tch." He thought, because there wasn't anything physical he could do about it. The hook barely scratched across his right hand, but he could already feel the cold spreading through it.

He prepared to kick the blade away, as rash a move as that was, but blinked when the pirate suddenly backed away.

Ripfang's smile stretched wider as Siegfried's hand fell to his side. He frowned. "Slow and steady, is that the way?"

"Oh, aye, it be." the ghost replied gleefully. "I can't go damaging my new body too much, can I? But if I can't keep yer soul around fer some fun, well, I won't get too broken up about it."

"It's always nice to meet a man of pragmatism." Siegfried said, trying to move his hand. The most he managed was one finger twitching. Not good. He could probably clear that up with his mind given time, but-

-he didn't even have time to think. Ripfang slung his sword out again, sending a rift of flame racing across the deck. The psychic leaped to the side, and was nearly set aflame for it; the fire spread out in a tight circle, nearly catching him in the back. It quickly rose up, trapping Siegfried on all sides.

He watched as the ghost walked through the fire like it wasn't even there. "Ah, that look on your face is the biggest treasure I've seen since I was alive. Can't magic your way out of this, can you boy?"

Siegfried reached up slowly with his good hand, and adjusted his shades. "Talk is cheap. Let's go."

Ripfang's grin faded slightly as he brought the one hand up into a stance. "Fer once you and I agree on something. Let's see if fighting is one of the things you can do left-handed!"

It was a perilous situation, and regrettably one he'd have no help with any time soon. On opposite sides of the flames, Adrian and Asakura were busy with their own battles. The assassin dodged back across the deck, her feet barely touching its surface as she evaded Dagon's tentacles. The good news was, anyone stupid enough to try and join the fight now never got within two feet of her. The bad news was, ol' gill-face was finally learning how to fight her. No matter how much she waited, there were no openings, and he withdrew from his attacks as quickly as he made them.

Adrian frowned as her back touched the railing of the ship. Below, more than a few of the crewmen floated; but even without them, she didn't put much on her chances of getting out if she fell in. Dagon's tentacles spread out to either side of her; ready to spring either left, right or above at the slightest movement. She clicked her tongue. "Just great. Now what?"

That was rhetorical for you: she knew what else. It was a particular lesson the Old Man had taken great pain (and not his) to drive into her. When some smartass was trying to predict what you'd do, always do what was sure to be last on their list. What had earned her more than a couple beatings was pointing that usually that last thing was-

"-ing stupid!" she cried, even as her legs propelled her – directly forward. The shape his face scrunched into told her she'd been right on the money. But the thing about animals was that they didn't waste time thinking about the how or why of stuff. Only humans would look a gift meal in the mouth when they'd been starving for a week (not that she knew that personally, or anything).

So that meant she had a scant couple of seconds before instincts took over with her right in front of his mouth. But Adrian intended to make all of them count. Jumping into the air a short distance, she loosed a kick right at Dagon's head. He leaped to one side…dodging absolutely nothing, since she hadn't sent out a Rankayku at all. That was another thing they couldn't really do, either.

"Geppou!" Adrian cried as she executed the technique with one foot, sending her into a spiral toward the neck of one faltered tentacle. "Rankyaku; Tabby Cutter!"

The limb held for about half a second, whatever you called that. Dagon's roars from earlier were bunny mewls compared to how he reacted at that. Then again, wasn't the first time she'd had to hack off a slimy appendage, was it?

Landing, she grinned. "Not gonna no-sell that one, are ya?"

It was lucky the assassin put some distance in, because the beast had practically gone berserk, slamming the deck with both hands hard enough to crack it. Then, abruptly, he charged. She had expected that.

What no sane person would have expected was the freak snatching up his still flopping tentacle by the long end, employing it as a very organic club. The blood it was leaking now had a nasty-looking green tint to it, too.

"So, here we -ing go again!" Adrian grumbled as she resumed her retreat. But it wasn't like he could grow the stupid thing back before the fight was over, right? "…I think of the worst things sometimes, don't I?"

The other fight the crewmen had crowded around wasn't going much better, for them or Asakura. The confines of the room below may have been vast, but at least there had been some restriction to the Zoan's movement there. Now it didn't matter how much of a hail she threw upward, a simple flap of the imp's wings left them falling short, or simply scattered the few that came close. Elly's own attacks were proving about as accurate, but as the shinobi was more than aware, only one needed to hit cleanly.

Alone, this would be acceptable, if un-ideal. What made it infuriating was that she was aware of it too.

"Hahahahaha, can't hit me, can't hit me!"

Asakura's grip tightened on the kunai, but relented. Throwing away her arsenal uselessly was what the girl would want (probably, anyway: estimating Elly strongly in either direction seemed unwise). Even with her wind magic, she couldn't possibly fly the same way, and bringing her opponent down to earth would be difficult a second time.

But it would have to be done. The ninja's hands went to a pouch lying at the back of her belt. This tool would do the job, but as wary as the girl was now, a unique way of applying it would have to be used.

Behind her, the more than familiar stench of the crewmen grew stronger. Well, if there was ever a way to be unexpected…

When the ghost lunged, uttering an oath that made her click her tongue in disapproval – with all this time, had they not learned common sense? – even as she was dodging aside in a move that took a tenth of the effort his swing had.

The wordless swear he let out upon missing was more than loud enough to hide her hand brushing lightly against what passed for his back The slip of paper applied there seemed to be equally ignored; not for the first time, she wondered whether the dead men could feel anything to begin with. But if so, the next few moments would be far more pleasant for this one than the alternative.

Dodging more of his crude swipes, Asakura listened carefully for the sound of flapping. "Gangway, buddy! I'm totally coming through!"

The skeleton pulled his next slice, hurriedly rushing to get away. A mistake that made her feel less bad about what she was about to do. Sliding one leg around his and grabbing him by the arm, she disarmed him with a simple hold and moved him in front of the on-coming parrot.

"W-wait a sec, Elly, I-"

"Like I care!" she crowed back, going into a dive-bomb.

Asakura judged the timing carefully, maintaining her leverage on the pirate easily. Then as the girl was only a few feet from her, shoved him forward – not with her bare hand, but a blast of wind, sending him straight into Elly's path.

The look-out scrunched her face up in irritation as the ghost flew upward with a scream. "What did I just say!?" she crooned, picking up speed and preparing to barrel right through him: which, unfortunately, was exactly what the hunter had planned upon.

"Huh?" Elly squeaked as the scroll Asakura had planted exploded, releasing not the fire or ice another might have used, but a wide net, weighted down with heavy balls. These were not the sea-stone nets used by the Marines, but were heavy enough to contain most things that posed a threat to the shinobi village. Asakura wasn't strong enough to throw one herself, but that rarely posed much of a problem.

The parrot-girl let out a wail as the crewmen fell aside and the net came down over her. Elly flapped her wings, but her small size worked against her as much as a larger bird's would have. She fell, cracking her beak against the deck. "Owwww…"

Footsteps made her look up groggily, and squeak as Asakura advanced quickly. She tried to move her talons up, but the net held her like sea water.

"I-I'm done f – oh yeah." Elly's body vanished, and the orb of ghostly flame shot toward her foe. "Ha! Betcha didn't know I could do this, huh?"

"Actually, the thought did cross my mind."

The bird mask didn't look so funny anymore as Asakura drew a slip from a pouch near the last and let it fly. Elly tried to dart to one side, but the paper seemed to home in on her, slapping into the ghost with an ominous thud.

"A-AAAAAAAAAAAH!" the girl cried in an ear-splitting voice, forced back to her human(ish) shape in an instant. "Ow, ow ow!" she whined, flailing on the deck. "It hurts, it hurts, get it off, get it ooooooofffff!" The slip burned red-hot where it touched her skin, having a similar effect as Siegfried's blows on Ripfang.

The bird shinobi turned her nose up at the display – metaphorically. "I thought that one might have an effect like this on you. But I expected someone in your position to show sterner stuff than this."

Elly had never really heard a phrase like that said to her before, but she understood perfectly well when someone was making fun of her. "S-shut up!" she said, the anger enough to force her head upward. "I'm sick of people like you talking like that to me! I may be just a look-out, but I'm the look-out on Ripfang Northwind's ship. I've sent more people under than you ever will, and YOU'RE…"

The crackling intensified; Asakura reached for another, but it was too late. Elly broke free from its hold, shifting back into her bird form and pumping herself forward into an almost vertical glide forward, beak pointed at the taciturn woman like a spear. She tried to leap away, but was caught in mid-leap.

The shinobi's body shook as a wound opened within her chest. She would have fallen straight from the deck if the parrot's talons hadn't snapped over her legs at that moment, carrying her out over the dead sea. Asakura's head dropped down, offering her an excellent view of what would happen should she fall: a few of the ghosts clanged their weapons together, grinning.

"What are you gonna do now?" Elly laughed. "Nowhere to go but down!"

Asakura considered it briefly. Even in water it was likely she could out-maneuver these pirates, but there lay the misfortune to that choice: in the meantime the girl could easily double-team either Siegfried or Adr – the assassin. Besides, she had been in more dire straits than this and survived.

She forced her head back up, just as Elly threw hers down, aiming the curved beak straight for her throat. She twisted aside, wincing at the objection from her legs, and grabbed the mandible with both arms before it could be withdrawn. As the ghost let out a noise of surprise, Asakura brought her head back and sent it crashing forward.

"Ow-ow-ow!" the parrot shrieked, reeling back with a thud; a nasty-looking crack now marring her bill. "Y-you're gonna pay for thaaaat!" she whined, stabbing out a second time.

Ripfang waved a hand at the chaos going on around them, grinning. "See, boy? This is what experience gets you. Me and my crew were terrorizing these waters long before you were sucking yer mother's teat. Compared to that, you and everyone else in this soft era are greener than a maggot-ridden biscuit. Ye can't win."

"…I see." Siegfried mused, tapping the front of his chin with his good hand. "Those are earnest words indeed, yes, especially coming from a man like you." The finger was pointed straight at the ghost pirate. "So it must be a shame, knowing that someone like me is your Achilles Heel."

He grinned. "I've had this power just about ever since I was born. You could probably train a lifetime and not learn anything comparable. Of course, someone like you…never could."

The captain tried to keep his teeth from grinding together instinctively, just from the brat's voice. "Who cares-"

"Why, you do, of course." Siegfried said smugly. "A single touch from me can hurt you this much, even with all your experience. No, not just that," he added, shaking his head, "it's because you've been alive this long that I'm your greatest weakness. That's quite a shame – all your powers are worthless against me, in a sense."

His smile turned nasty. "And when you think about it, it's doubly bad, because your experience and these powers are really all you have left, aren't they?"

"…what?"

Siegfried tapped his foot on the deck, appearing not to notice the flames building up around Ripfang. "Oh, don't try to say you haven't thought about it. While you've been sitting here trapped in this sea, Roger rose to infamy in your place, was executed, and spawned an era of his own. That age you called soft is going to reach its climax very soon, and you? You've done nothing but knock off some ships. The Marines probably think it was no-name pirates."

The volcano was fit to blow already, but he was far from done. "Say you take my body, and escape from her. Do you think anyone will still quake in terror at the name Ripfang Northwind, even as a boogie-man? Face it: you're old news, a has-been, nothing but a-"

"SHUT UUUUUUUUP!" Ripfang roared, his rage sending out a wave of ghostly flame bigger than any other so far. But no matter what it was, no attack borne of anger could hurt someone with a calm mind. Siegfried sprang forward, rolling to the side as he did. The heat from the fire almost set his coat ablaze, not to mention his hair. But an attack formed from rage couldn't hurt someone with a cool head. Flipping to his feet, he charged forward.

It may as well have been one through molasses for how quick Ripfang moved, though: about a second later he found the ghostly cutlass raised right above his head, ready to come down. "Let's see ya stop this one, brat!" the pirate crooned.

Siegfried smiled. "If you insist."

The bounty hunter's hand flew up, but there was no way he could block it with just one-

"Whaaaaaaaat!?" he screeched as Siegfried's other arm, still wracked by his ghostly curse, flew up as well. His blade was caught perfectly between them.

"What do you mean, 'what'?" the brunette said, smiling. "I can move other things, so why not my arm?" He hoped the pirate would be too enraged to notice the beads of sweat lining his forehead.

The grin he received wasn't…quite what he'd expected, though. "Really? Can you move it after I do – this!?"

If that didn't give someone enough incentive to move, they were probably deaf. Throwing the sword to one side, Siegfried's eyes almost shut in self-defense as the embers flared up right in front of them. He threw out a kick, aiming for Ripfang's spine, and the ghostly pirate quickly retreated. Just as well; his attention had been broken enough that it wasn't buffered by his powers. But he needed the distance, so it was just as well.

He backed away – and stepped forward again as the circle of flame crept closer. "Hardly sporting, I'd say."

"I find that doing it fairly always makes the meet tough." Ripfang said. He spat from his mouth at 'fairly', and it burned a hole through the rotted deck. "Self importance makes little rats all tough and stringy, you know."

"Yes, I do."

Ripfang didn't blow up, like before: he merely went from standing to slashing down at the shoulder of Siegfried's unharmed shoulder in about a second. Well, at least he was using his anger for something constructive.

It was a far less sloppy blow, too. As he rolled under the hacking slice, the ghostly blade nicked his other arm's shoulder; barely a scratch in a normal fight, but it started shaking almost immediately. A second bum arm definitely wasn't something he needed right now. He had to get rid of that sword, but…well, it wouldn't be nice, but what was in a fight, really?

Backing cautiously away, Siegfried lured him over to one side of the fire wall – it didn't take very long, with how restrictive it was. Within a moment or two, he had his back to the flames, Ripfang's reach well within either avenue of escape. He grinned, and shoved the blade forward in a cruel, swift stab.

It hit home. But strangely, this didn't seem to improve the ghost pirate's mood. "H-huh?"

Before his attack being blocked had only made him angry, but you could only get bewildered over something like…this. Ripfang's sword stood quivering, plunged an inch or two into the flesh of Siegfried's dead arm; if he turned the blade just a tad it would probably touch bone. As he stared, Siegfried spoke, pain not enough to quell the smugness in his voice. "Oh? Have I surprised the mighty pirate Ripfang? A nice bonus, then. You know, this would probably be excruciating if it weren't for your powers."

With another swift thought from his mind, the arm moved again, jerking downward and wresting the blade out of his ethereal grip. "I'll just take that, thank you." he said, plucking the blade free and tossing it through the flames. A spurt of blood came from his arm upon its exit, but he didn't seem to notice. "There," Siegfried said happily, "now we're even – or will be, as soon as I rip off an arm of yours." He moved his good hand up into half a boxing stance; even the psychic wasn't confident enough to fist fight with a bleeding out arm. That would need seeing to soon, but one thing at a time.

After a moment's pause, Ripfang did as well, or at least what he must have thought was one. If that said anything about his knowledge of hand-to-hand, that suited Siegfried just fine. He sidled himself over to across where he'd thrown the sword; the pirate would have to dispel the flames if he wanted it back. That was fine by him, but getting hit with it again was another story.

"Well? Your move."

The reverse was true for the other two fights going on nearby. Even a Rokushiki user's endurance had its limits, and even if she hated to admit it Adrian was reaching hers. She knew how to sever those tentacles now, but that would just leave more poison dripping everywhere. So pick your…uh. Well it sucked, anyway.

But speaking of that, for as long as she'd been focused on not getting hit by the stuff, she'd noticed something: the deck only started melting a few seconds after the stuff hit it. Made sense; this guy would have been a puddle years ago if it started melting inside him. And that left her with such a nasty idea of what to do it could only have come from an assassin's mind.

Adrian waited, dodging the next strike, an overhand smack. "One…" It came down again. "Two…"

This time, Dagon swung the tentacle horizontally in a quick move, or at least as far as the beast could fail to telegraph something. By the time it was in mid-flight, Adrian was already rolling underneath it. With surprising quickness, the squid backed off, holding up the make-shift weapon to guard its face. A smart move, but unfortunately not quite imaginative enough.

Leaping up, Adrian nodded inwardly as he struck downward. With a hop in mid-air, she evaded the blow, letting his arm pass right overhead. Grinning ferally, she winded up for the biggest kick she could muster.

She felt the tremor of the kick run up his arm, shaking something if not actually breaking it, which was fine by her. But more importantly, it made him recoil backward quickly, sending a few droplets from the tentacle-club into the air-

"RAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

-and right into the big guy's eyes. Probably a dirty shot, but hell, she'd like to see someone with enough balls to complain about that here.

Landing as Dagon flailed, clutching his eyes, Adrian struck out with another kick, this one directed at the back of his right knee. This hadn't failed to fell any normal human who was twice her size, and it was no different from a giant fish three times. He went down like a ton of ugly, stinky bricks.

And Adrian wouldn't be an assassin if she let things go just because someone had taken a tumble. She leaped into the air, chaining a series of leaps to reach nearly as tall as the decrepit mast. Turning around in the air, she let her legs tense, and then kicked back down, sending her into a spinning, head-first fall. "Tekkai; Black Cat Bullet!"

The sudden kick had laid Dagon out, but he was still with it enough to know that getting hit by that would be very, very bad for him. He couldn't quite force himself to his feet (and that would just make the drop land all the quicker besides), but he rolled to the side, cupping his hands together for a crushing blow. The acid his blood became still stung at his eyes, but his ears were more than enough to crush prey like this.

There came the sharp crack of wood splintering, and he struck down, in fact hitting nothing but the deck himself. This added a few splinters to what Dagon was going through, and it was about to get even worse. He looked up, blinking through the acid, and glimpsed something quite bad.

"Didn't think I could move that fast, did ya?" Adrian said, grinning like something about to snatch the goldfish out of its bowl. "GEPPOU!"

The attack didn't have the momentum it would have had before, but it caught him off-guard with a clean blow to the chin. The beast flinched.

"And I'm not through with you yet!" Adrian declared, hopping up again and landing a vicious uppercut to the bottom of his jaw. She grinned at the crack of bone. The squid flailed with his arms, but she stunned him with a quick elbow to the neck. By this point, Dagon's stumbling had sent him lurching up against the ship's railing: it creaked dangerously under his bulk.

The Black Cat grinned. Quite a few people no longer sailing the seas now knew why a tremble had gone down their spine when they saw it, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty. Dagon wouldn't be overcome with fear like that, of course…for all the good it would do him.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" she said, leaping up and clinging onto the mast again. "Tekkai…" Her eyes glinted. "Black Cat…"

Dagon roared in outrage, tearing himself free from the railing and stepping into a charge.

"BULLET!"

To be blunt, it didn't work. To be eloquent, the squid's charge was like a dinghy standing against the tides. To just say what happened, well, Dagon got kicked right overboard. Landing, Adrian cupped her ear as a resounding splash came from below. "Music to my ears."

Elly probably would have been upset to hear her friend treated like that, but she had enough problems of her own at the moment. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried to peck at this annoying faker bird, she'd just slip out of the way! Elly'd been able to give a few cuts and bruises, but that just steamed her up! She was the look-out on Captain Ripfang's crew – she should only have needed one hit! Half of one! Totally!

This kind of thought process would have greatly distracted Asakura, who now knew how to escape from her predicament. The means was simple: the very net of blades Elly thought was a death-trap. She passed over them about once every twenty seconds, and it was then that the shinobi would spring the trap.

Of course, this presented its own problems. Even as scatter-brained as the girl was, she couldn't help but notice her hand signs this close. She would need to be quick as the…hah, wind.

"Hahaha!" Elly laughed as she did a quick turn, going back toward the ship. "I bet your head is just spinning right now, isn't it? If ya give up, I might take it easy on yo – huh?"

The parrot girl was, alright, maybe a bit scatter-brained when you got right down to it, but that didn't mean she was stupid. She'd passed it off as some weird twitching (probably in fear!) before, but when wind picked up in-doors every time, you couldn't help get a little suspicious. "Oh no you don't, lady!" she cried, jabbing forward once more.

But Elly had made one crucial error that would cost her: Asakura had only been making signs with one hand. The other came up now, holding a small pellet…

"'uh?" she grunted out. This was necessary, due to what had come out from the ball: a thick, sticky gel that now stuck between her beak. Most shinobi scoffed at tools like this unless they were needed for a specific purpose, but Asakura had never been one to turn down even a potential advantage. She was still caught, but the opening was more than wide enough for what she required. Finishing her signs, she pointed her hand downward, then thrust it back upward.

"Wind Ninjitsu; Wind Riser!"

The wind began to pick up, and in this dead sea that made the crewmen sit up, sort of, and take notice. What it didn't do was make them keep a tighter grip on their weapons, and those that weren't tightened securely flew upward, directly toward Elly's wings.

"'ut, is 'at all?" The bird-girl grunted confidently through the gel. Flapping her wings strongly, she turned into a quick, swift barrel roll, knocking them all away with the force of it. "'a 'a 'a 'a! 'oo bad, it 'dint work!"

"Actually, it did?"

"'uh?"

As Elly's spin turned her belly-first toward the sky, Asakura moved. While the girl's attention had been caught by her last attack, the shinobi had drawn a kunai from her pouch – with lightning speed, she now sent it plunging into both of the bird girl's talons.

Ignoring the cry of pain, she gripped on hard to the plumage to keep from falling, then tensed herself and leapt. The zoan's shocked face appeared underneath her for a moment, before it was obscured by both her feet. Using the beak like a springboard, Asakura jumped back toward the deck, leaving behind a trailed, muffled scream and a splash behind her.

Ripfang's gaze swept back and forth as Asakura flipped over the deck, while Adrian strolled up, a pleased smile on her face. "Grrrr…ye think I'm scared of you three? I don't care how many landlubbers you dredge up, it won't matter!"

Siegfried smiled back. "These flames are a bit high for you to be saying things like that, Captain, don't you think?"

The pirate hawked another flaming loogie, with a hole to match. Then again, the only one of the two who'd care had probably passed on a long time ago. Shameful. "I'm tired of flapping gums I haven't got with you, boy. After all…" He grinned the grin of a pirate about to do what they did best. "…since I'm going to make you pay for every last insult that's passed your lips, it's really for yer own good."

"Personally, I think making sure an over-the-hill ghost can't use my body like a fine suit is more toward that, but your opinion is noted."

Adrian swirled the cigarette in her mouth around (she'd lit it on the flames; no sense litting them go to waste, right?), tapping her foot as she watched the whole lot of nothing going on. "So, are you two gonna actually fight, or just stand around doing - all?"

Ripfang's blood-red eyes swiveled toward her. "Shut your trap, you damn peacock."

"…peacock?" The assassin stared, wondering whether or not to be offended; after she found out why that was even supposed to offend someone, anyway. "You should probably pay attention, by the way."

"Eh?" the captain muttered, looking back just in time to catch a fist to the jaw. Even as part of the old seadog melted, his instincts reacted, slashing out with the cutlass at where Siegfried's head would be. Unfortunately, even if it demonstrably wasn't respect, Siegfried had figured out what the old pirate was capable of; he'd already ducked, the blade giving him part of a haircut as it scythed through the air.

The bounty hunter felt confident enough to follow with an upper-cut – incorrectly, as it turned out, as Ripfang flared up with more than just his temper this time. Siegfried stepped back, retreating from the fire, when he heard an ominous crack. That would be bad enough in a fight like this, but especially when it was happening just under where you'd stepped. He grunted as his feet disappeared into splintering wood.

"Did it slip yer mind, boy?" Ripfang crooned. "I can control every inch 'o this tub, including the deck."

"And yet you didn't think to do it until now…" Siegfried muttered, but without much force. The hole was squeezing down on his leg now, keeping him from clawing his way back out. It wasn't flashy, but it would keep him down long enough for all sorts of nasty things. He continued kicking, trying to ignore Ripfang's laughter as he stalked closer.

Casually the ghost gestured with his arm, raising the flames just as Adrian tried to leap over; she fell back with a curse, beating off cinders. "Now, any last words, boy?"

"No."

He barked out a laugh. "Ha, didn't think – BAH!"

Every part of a ship was connected in some way, and this was something Ripfang had failed to realize when he'd withered that part of it beneath Siegfried. His kicking had weakened a plank in front of him, and a final one now sent it spiraling into the corsair's face. It didn't really harm him (as many a cadet back home would tell you, wood only harmed certain other ghouls), but the hold on Siegfried's foot was released, and he clambered out in time to avoid another furious slash.

By now it was crystal clear that Ripfang had had enough. "Always think you have the answer to everything, don't you, boy?" he hissed, breath chilling the air as his sword's point waved erratically, making brief mirages of itself. "I'm going to enjoy looking into your eyes when you realize there is none. It would almost, oh, be better than gutting ye outright…but who knows, eh? Ha ha ha…"

The laughter swelled like a furnace, turning into a fierce roar. Captain Northwind's flames rose, burning through the illusion of his coat and even skin, changing from an image of what he'd been while alive to something far worse: what he'd been inside.

"HA HA HA HA HA! Oh, you should see the look on your face, boy. It's like you've…seen a ghost."

Siegfried couldn't even open his mouth for a smart comment. Instead of a ghost, he now resembled something that had never been close to human. His eyes were twin, crazed flames, while his beard had become more like a beast's mane. Letting out a pleased breath of smoke, he stalked forward across the deck, the floorboards cracking where his peg-leg touched them.

It wasn't anything his teacher would have blamed him for, but Siegfried found his feet taking him backward at the same pace. Perhaps Ripfang had keyed into what might be the biggest weakness of someone with powers like his: he needed mental concentration to use them, and to be quite honest that had been difficult enough before now. He felt his arm drop to the side as Ripfang's laughter increased.

There were no more tricks, now; either he'd win, or he'd die, more or less. Dimly he could hear Adrian and Asakura's shouts in his hears, telling him to move, do something, anything, but there wasn't anything they could do to help him now. He thought hard, willing his arm, his feet, anything to move, but the nightmare before him filled his mind as it came closer, reminding him of-

The smell of smoke and fire all around, choking the life from his small lungs. The boards covering him were crushingly heavy; he could barely move an inch in any direction. He could feel them beginning to heat up. Before long they'd be ablaze, and the place that had been his home for eight years would…

would…

No.

Before Ripfang could charge outright, something happened to take him off-guard. Raising his head back, Siegfried uttered a roar longer and louder than anything Ripfang had ever heard or even uttered himself. It made him stop cold, and not from surprise. The brat's scream went off like a fog-horn in his head, or what passed for it, ringing from there to the tips of his fingers and toes. It was like his entire being had been grabbed and shaken up in a bottle.

He didn't have time to compare it to anything else, as Siegfried took a tentative step forward – and then charged, still letting out his scream. He reached Ripfang quickly, bringing back his fist. There was no stance or style left in his movements, only sheer single-mindedness.

Bah. The boy had gone mad, what else could it be? That feeling had just been a wee case of the ji…no, no, excitement! Just a few more pokes and he'd have himself a fine new body, with only a bit o' wear and tear. And for a bonus, two lovely new crewmates; he'd just need 'ta discipline them a-

Ripfang's train of thought ended in a brick wall as Siegfried's fist sailed in faster than it had all battle, smashing into the right side of his face. The ghost grit his spectral teeth as another part of him was turned into slime on the deck. But the bilge rat was wide open. He turned the cutlass' point forward, stoked its flame, and sent it ramming into the boy's shoulder.

It should have left him rolling on the ground, screaming in agony. It should have left him begging for the end, if he was able to talk at all. It should have let him WIN, gods damn it!

Of all the things that should have happened, him taking the stab like it was a damn pinprick. Letting out a grunt, Siegfried forced himself forward, the spectral weapon flowing around his new wound. Despite this, he still had full control over both his arms; he proved this beyond a shadow by clapping them down on either side of Ripfang's head. As the ghost let out a startled grunt, he slipped off to the side, slapping the weapon out of him.

The ghost was stunned, but he raised his free hand and let out a stream of flames in that direction. Siegfried ducked, fire burning his coat and the shoulder underneath. He didn't seem to notice. Striking out, he pummeled at the pirate's mid-section, aiming straight for his rib-cage and spine.

Ripfang grunted as the psychic energy battered at his form, knees almost buckling (metaphorically). But if the fool thought this was his weakpoint, he was a wee bit mistaken…

Siegfried blinked, dimly, as the bones covering what Ripfang clearly lacked snapped outward, then in, clamping over one of his arms like a bear-trap. He was pulled closer as Captain Northwind raised his cutlass, grinning.

"Hell's bells!" came the next outdated swear from his mouth as his young foe's other arm came up, snatching at the blade with his bare hand. "Why don't ya just lie down and die!?"

Siegfried lifted – well, snapped would be a better word – his face up to look into the man's eyes. Ripfang flinched. He'd be the first to say that he was the closest person to hell sailing the Grand Line, and proudly, but the boy's eyes right now looked like nothing he had ever seen before.

"No."

The bounty hunter increased his grip, heedless of both the blood flowing down his hand and the ectoplasm flowing into it, and jerked the blade downward in one strong motion. Ripfang stared, open-eyed, as the blade broke in two. Ghostly energy leaked off the shard in Siegfried's hand, quickly robbing the metal of what had sustained it all these years, but not before he'd turned it around and rammed it straight into the spirit.

Instead of laughter or an insult, the next thing to come out of the legendary pirate's mouth was a high, piercing scream. He stumbled back, dropping the remnants of the sword (which quickly crumbled to bits), while his flames died down like someone had kicked a hill's worth of dirt on him. Both his hands scrabbled for the piece of metal lodged in his bones. Before Siegfried had shoved it into him, he'd charged it with some energy of his own, probably without even realizing itself. It now sat inside Ripfang like a hot coal, and it was only getting hotter.

This was beyond the psychic in his rage at the moment, and he followed his enemy at a dead run, pulling back his fist with a quiet snarl. Letting out one of his own, Ripfang raised his hand, unleashing the technique he had used to burn Adrian earlier. Because of his wounds it was far sloppier, though: Siegfried dodged with a quick leap to the side and was on him before he could fire another.

What next could only be properly described from the perspective of the two women. Asakura quickly looked away, but Adrian took it all in, the bravado now well and gone from her features. She'd seen something like this a few times before, when someone too drunk to know any better had hassled the old man. But he'd been a bundle of rage most of the time anyway. Seeing someone like Siegfried do it was…well, not scary, but sure as hell not right either.

Not that the young man really cared what either of them thought at the moment. With one final snap to the transparent jaw and a kick to the gut, Ripfang's back hit the deck.

He would have been very lucky if Siegfried was done at this point, but decades of piracy didn't do you much good there. He leaped on top of the ghost, knees pinning him to the floor. He probably would have sunk through it at that point if a fist hadn't slammed into his face. And again, and again…by now Siegfried had done everything fancy he needed to. Now all he wanted to do was punch.

He saw Ripfang's face beneath his fists, but only dimly. The only things he could see for certain now were the flames, and…faces…

Siegfried didn't notice the flames around them dying down, or the slight burns he was receiving from Ripfang trying everything to get away from him. One or two of the more loyal crewmates edged forward, driven by his cries, but one good look at the face of who was pummeling him put a stop to that.

His first move when someone from behind grabbed his arm mid-punch was to throw an elbow backward – it was quickly grabbed and the arm twisted sharply behind his back. As a bonus, his ear-lobe was wrenched to one side painfully. Siegfried let out a cry of pain, and the images cleared.

Asakura glanced toward her. "Why there?"

Adrian shrugged. "People don't like it. It's like that thing where you hit them in the knee. Don't usually bring my own hammer, though."

"…what happened?" Siegfried, who'd slumped back to his knees, asked. He sounded bewildered, which somehow wasn't the strangest thing they'd seen from him today.

"You tell us," replied the assassin, waving a hand at Ripfang's battered form, "we're a little curious ourselves."

Siegfried blinked. "I did that?" It was like the last few minutes just hadn't happened for him. Asakura stared, suspicion growing behind her mask.

Adrian didn't seem to be quite as concerned. "Well," she said, shrugging, "if you don't know, no point asking about it. Point is, we're done h-"

"NOT…a chance."

She stared up at the sky, and sighed. "Of course? Of course."

They turned to see what had become of the 'good' captain: it wasn't pretty, even for people in professions of the night. Most of Siegfried's punches had been aimed toward the head, and half of it had now melted into itself. The eyeball there hung loose out of its socket, looking like it would fall off if a stiff breeze picked up. His bones looked cracked and brittle now, the spine in particular appearing to barely keep him in one piece. The fires around him were practically extinguished, changing his appearance from a fearsome wraith to a burnt out husk.

"I'm…" he wheezed, now sounding exactly as old as he looked, "…not finished with you barnacles yet."

Adrian shook her head. "Were all those old pirates this dense?" She stepped forward, waving a hand at the ship around them. "Look, man, you were finished a long time ago. So what if you have this pleasure cruise here? You're just ancient history to the whole world. Even if you get all of them on this tub, more than half of 'em won't know who the hell you are."

Ripfang glared, eyes blood-shot and crackling. "Shut up."

"No." she replied pleasantly. "Hell, even if you were dead famous a while back, what do you think happened after Gold Roger made his little speech?" Adrian watched as the ghost began to shake, and probed further. "Who do you think everyone was talking about then: some guy with an ego as big as his name, or the guy who started the pirate a-"

"THIS AGE IS GARBAGE!" he roared, throwing out another fireball. It was weak and feeble, and burned out before it reached Adrian, who hadn't moved.

Behind her, Siegfried rose back to his feet. "Oh, I don't know, Adrian…" he began, "I'm sure Captain Ripfang is famous in his own right." The bounty hunter adjusted his shades. "Probably quite well known, in fact – as a symbol of what the marines will do to pirates." He paused, watching the ghost flinch.

"Don't tell me it hadn't occurred to you before?" he asked, raising his voice so everyone present could hear. "After you disappeared, people could say whatever they liked about you. And they did: the Marines took full credit for your demise, Captain. It was a nice bonus after catching Gold Roger. And that's all you're going to go down as, Ripfang, an extra, a footnote."

He thrust out a finger across the dead realm, toward the real sea. "Out there right now are men working to change the world. The Gorosei, Whitebeard, Red-Hair Shanks and countless others, all with their own ideals and goals. What do you want? To put your name back into the history books." The contempt wasn't hidden from his voice now as it had been before. "You need to face facts, Captain: you've been a loser since you died, and that's not going to change no matter what you do."

All eyes turned to Ripfang, but surprisingly, he didn't seem to have a retort at the moment. Or at least, not one involving words. Siegfried knew better by this point and tensed his muscles, still sore by what he had apparently made them do.

He didn't have long to wait. The pirate lifted his head back, uttering one long, feral scream to the sky. His flames burst up once more, but with all fire, there were grave differences between when you controlled and when you didn't. Several crewmates nearby backed away, and then fled as the flames spread across the deck, burning what had been untouched every time before. Ripfang himself had become a pillar of flame in short order.

"Wow. I think that about did it, there." came a drawling voice behind Siegfried. He turned to see Bob watching the proceedings, looking as pleased as a skeleton could.

Siegfried briefly considered questioning it, but there probably wasn't much time. "I'm not sure if it would work myself, but it was better than having him blow up like that in my face. A ghost is just a mind without a body, after all, and I think his had grown deranged a long time ago."

Bob nodded, still watching. "I always did think he was the one holding all this together, and I was right. See?" He pointed out one crewmate who'd been caught by the flames. They panicked, trying to beat out the flames, and then began to…dissolve, slowly fading away. Far more seemed to take it peacefully, dropping their weapons and smiling as they disappeared.

Not everyone took it so well, however. "C-cap'n, you gotta calm down!" Elly, who'd evidently made her way out of the drink cried as she stepped forward, Dagon beside her. "If you don't we're all gonna – AWAH!" she yelped as the flames caught on her, too. Dagon did too; it was still fire even if you weren't a ghost, after all.

Siegfried was almost mesmerized, but Bob put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him toward the railing. Asakura and Adrian were already there. "Anyway, you guys should probably get out of here, and quick. Thanks for the whole 'saving me from eternal slavery on a ghost ship' thing, yeah?"

"…don't mention it." What else could you say, really?

He went slowly, still watching the phenomenon that was happening to the burnt vessel. By now the deck was rolling slightly under his feet. They had to leave, and quick.

Siegfried had just reached the deck when the metaphorical, transparent shoe dropped. "YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!"

The psychic slowly turned, regarding the nightmare that was flying across the deck toward him. Ripfang was now just a few bits of skeleton held together by the flames. He didn't seem to have heard about only the captain going down with the ship, but that would require some dignity, wouldn't it? The game plan at the moment was probably taking all three of them with him, whatever it took.

Well, he knew all about that, didn't he?

Taking a step forward, and motioning for his friends not to do the same, Siegfried watched the specter racing toward him with a careful eye. If he were in a more rational frame of mind Ripfang might have recognized it as those belonging to many foes he had had over the years. All of them were dead now, of course…save one.

"Geist…"

Ripfang opened his mouth in one last, feral scream.

"FAUUUST!"

Siegfried's fist connected square on the end of the pirate's nose. There was a sensation of intense heat for a moment, and then it receded along with the captain's form as he flew back across the deck, connecting square with the mast. It lit up like a candle.

He turned, pointing out to sea. "I think we've more than overstayed out welcome, wouldn't you?"

"But the boat's-"

"If you have another idea, I'd be interested to hear it."

Adrian and Asakura looked at each-other, shrugged, and followed him over the railing. Surprisingly, the water wasn't that much different from its normal counterpart, save for having the same consistency as tar. The crewmen were still in the water, but they were a bit preoccupied as the trio swam sluggishly away from the soon-to-be deader vessel.

It happened when they were about ten feet away, but not in the way any of them expected. There was an explosion, yes, but afterward the boards seemed to hang in the air, still barely held together by Ripfang's power. Then it burst again, but inward, as a vortex picked up within the sinking ship. It broke up the remnants of the ship, and sent them whirling about like a dervish, slowly going inward.

For just a moment, Ripfang was visible within it, still an inferno of a man. Then there was a noise like a clap of thunder, a bright flash-

-and then the three of them were floating in an ordinary, blue sea, seagulls squawking overhead. The ferry was nearby, a rope already being thrown over the side.

"Well," Siegfried began as they made for it, "that was interesting."

Adrian cocked an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say about all that? Nothing shakes you for long, does it?"

The bounty hunter shrugged. "I don't intend on irritating any gypsies in the near future, so it's not terribly relevant for me."

They climbed silently, and were soon back on the deck. Something appeared to occur to Adrian then. "Hey Sieg, you know what calling someone a peacock means?"

He told her. The Black Cat face changed to a scowl, making nearby deckhands back off instantly. "That punk – I'm gonna-" she stared out at the open sea. "Oh, right."

Siegfried patted her on the shoulder. "We could go find his body and you could go a round with that, if you like."

"Nah. That'd take too long."

"And here we have our masterpiece, the skull of one Ripfang Northwind, a legendary pirate from the time of Gold Roger. Any questions?"

"What'd you make it out of?"

The guide had grown used to this by now, and his face barely twitched as he carefully ignored the little brat's question, and the urge to thump him one for joining the ranks of those who made this job so, so much harder than it needed to be. Of course he knew the damn skull was fake, too: who would think it was real? Why did they have to make him look like an idiot saying something everyone knew?

He cleared his throat. "Well, over here we have-"

"Hey, how'd you make the eyes flash like that?"

…huh, that was a new one. He turned, staring at the ugly thing in the case. Nope, nothing. He looked back quickly: there were plenty of things you didn't want the brats to get their hands on. Such as… "The next stop on our tour is the armor-"

Wincing as he lead the cheering group to the worst stop on the tour, the guide rounded the corner.

In the quiet, deserted room, Captain Ripfang's skull twitched.

To be continued…

Next time, on One Piece: Bounty Seven…

Siegfried: With all respect, I don't think any one of us really gives off the 'heroic impression'.

Adrian: You gotta be kidding me. It looks like you could knock her over with a stiff breeze!

?: She's probably the most famous thing about our little town, to tell the truth.

The Heroine of Love and Justice, Part 1

?: Hello, everyone! I hope I'm not late~.

Smilingdamnedvillain: I hope that turned out to be the case. I have a feeling you'll appreciate the next chapter too.

Paladine: Well, thank you very much. That's quite the compliment.

So, I meant for this to come out in October…of last year. Yeah, I'm not sure exactly what happened there.