"It's all we've got, so it'll have to do!" Hammie yelled as he single-handedly pulled up the anchor and did a quick head count, "All right, all five of us are here, let's shove… Wait, Brody?" Hammie did a double-take at the presence of the fishman.
Brody gave a respectful salute, "Reporting for duty, captain!"
Hammie stared perplexed, "Didn't I just have you married? What the hell are you doing here?"
"You aren't going to get far without a decent navigator, so here I am," Brody responded.
Douglas stared down the attack the size of a Sea King, and only confidently smiled as he met it straight on, charging forward and rearing back his fist, "DOUGLAS PUNCH!" His arm launched forward, his and Kitsushi's attack meeting at both of their epicenters. The contact alone unleashed a shockwave of pure force powerful enough to crack the deck from one end of the deck to the other.
But it was the water dragon that gave in, exploding into a harmless shower that doused the remainder of the flames.
Kitsushi was stunned, not able to remember a time when the force of his kick was outright stopped, "W-what the…?"
But that wasn't all as Douglas kept pushing, "Be gone spirit!" A few sharp cracks and searing pain told Kitsushi about the broken cartilage in his leg as it was forced back by Douglas's fist, until his entire body was lifted off the ground and sent flying back to the island before Kitsushi could discern just how much he was outclassed. The crew cheered at the picturesque scene of their beloved captain having slain the dragon and the spirit in vengeance in one manly spirit filled punch, "See! The flames of its rage have been quelled! Now, let's catch up to those pirates!" And so the marines set off to catch up to their pirate prey with new fire in their hearts.
The sudden burst of wind filled the sails like a localized cyclone, propelling the ship far faster than everyone had ever experienced, save Brody who knew the sensation all too well. What should have been a multiple day journey took only a matter of hours, making the rapid shift in weather all too jarring. When the Patchwork Princess launched from Jaggerjaw Island, the seas were calm and the skies were clear. The shift to full gray storm clouds which blotted out the sun and roaring waves the size of houses was even more sudden due to their speed. Only now did their personal windstorm dissipate as Hammie's crew was left to the mercy of the elements.
"Ey, fishstick!" Michael shouted with irritation as he struggled to raise the sails, "Didn'tya say ye were gonna be the navigator? Aren't navigators s'posed to avoid crap like this or do ye just suck?"
Brody ignored the inflammatory pyromaniac for now as he secured the rope around his waist, Hammie holding the other end. "Remember, wait ten seconds, then pull me back in as hard as you can."
"You're sure about this?" Hammie asked with uncertainty.
"Trust me, I've been doing this for years." Brody leapt off the deck rail and dove into the churning waters below. Hammie held the rope taut even as the ocean tried to drag it and the whole ship under.
9… 10! Hammie counted in his mind as he yanked the rope back, hurling Brody back onto the deck with a single tug.
"It's still crazy that a human can do that," Brody said dizzily. "We're on the right course. The currents will do most of the work for us, but once we get close enough to see Reverse Mountain, we'll need to get the angle exactly right. Once we're in the full strength of the current, we won't be able to even make slight alterations to our course without breaking the rudder."
Hammie set to work repairing the rapidly multiplying weather damages to the ship and Brody immediately took the helm. Michael, Takashi, and Doc all pitched in to sail through the storm, each being a competent and experienced sailor in their own right, all without having to take any orders. Attempting to direct them would have probably would have just ensured their noncompliance anyway. Jude spent the time napping in the ship's cabin, as no one had any time to try and get him to do any work. Not that Jude had much reason to brave the storm while there was no audience to astound and amaze while doing so. Besides, this was his last good suit, he'd just had it cleaned on the island, and manual labor in a storm would have simply wasted the effort.
"We're getting close!" Brody shouted above the storm.
"How can you tell?" Hammie shouted back, "I can barely see a foot beyond the ship!"
"There! In the distance!" Sure enough, when Hammie looked ahead, the fog parted to reveal the the towering mountain piercing the sky like a spear on the horizon, growing ever larger by the minute.
"We have to sail…" Hammie had to lean back as they approached the mountain, taking in the size of it, "…up that?"
"That's right," Brody replied, "And we have to get the angle perfect so we don't crash on the sides."
"The sides of what? How do you sail up a-" As Hammie questioned the logic of the situation, and as the mountain drew closer, he could see a single solitary river directly ahead of them, the water surging up towards the peak of the mountain, and somewhere in Hammie's brain the part that thought it understood how physics worked ceased to function. "Oh. So what happens at the top?"
"We have to make a sharp turn at the very peak of the mountain to the one downward current."
"How do we do that when we can't even steer?"
Brody struggled with the wheel and had to stop himself from gritting his teeth, since they were still sore from being filed down, "One thing at a time! First, we've got to make sure nothing stops us from hitting the upward current!"
Suddenly, a massive shape out of the fog blindsided the Patchwork Princess, the noses of the ships slamming into each other. "Incoming!" The shape tore out of the fog to reveal a much larger, much better built ship of the marines, specifically that of Captain Douglas.
Unlike the previous ship that overtook their stolen fishing boat just before Jaggerjaw Island, this was a full interceptor ship, equipped to handle and even take advantage of violent storms such as these. It was no wonder that the marine ship was able to overtake them so quickly from Jaggerjaw Island. The navy interceptor cut the Patchwork Princess off from its path, the two ships now joined at the bow and grinding against each other while they both careened towards Reverse Mountain, neither changing course.
Douglas stood on the railing with a determined stare that pierced through the wind and rain, even as the two ships collided, and the majority of his crew struggled to retain their balances.
Michael grinned what he saw as a sitting target and quickly drew out his Boomers for a repeat of their last meeting. He fired two fireballs at the marine captain, but this time Douglas was ready. Right when the two blasts exploded out of the gun, Douglas had already dashed to inside Michael's guard, only inches from him. "Son of a-!" Michael cursed.
"You may have caught me off-guard last time, dishonorable pirate! But this time I'm ready for you!" Douglas's fist shot up under Michael's face, propelling the gunner skyward in a single blow. "Douglas Uppercut!" Before he could even tell what happened, Michael's body spiraled up until he crashed into the crow's nest.
Before the rest of Hammie's crew could spring into action, Captain Douglas raised his hand. "HOLD IT!" The brief hesitation allowed Douglas to continue, "We don't have to fight this time, Hammie."
The still-green pirate captain blinked a few times in confusion. "We don't?"
"No," Douglas smiled, "Don't worry. I figured out your problem from our last meeting, but the greasy one up there interrupted me before we could finish our conversation. When I slipped on the rail of my own ship…"
"Slipped? HA! Ye were bloody target practice!" Michael tried to heckle, but either couldn't be heard from the crow's nest in such a storm or was ignored by all present.
"…my crew assumed the worst and attacked you. When really it was all a misunderstanding," Douglas pointed to the heavens in confidence, "You were never the pirate captain! You were just being forced to go along with what the REAL pirates here said, isn't that right?"
"Hammie, what's he talking about?" Brody asked with concern.
"Michael Collins, Takashi 'Iron Chef' Nakamura, the man known only as Doc…" Douglas counted the pirates off, "Those three are notorious pirates, but there's no bounty on them anymore. They used to have sizeable bounties each, but every pirate crew they serve under is either captured with those three being the only escapees, or they succumb to an unfortunate accident with those three as the only survivors. Their presence neutralizes more pirates than the damage they cause. They're so infamous that the world government felt that they're better for our cause against piracy free than locked up, so the government removed the bounties from their heads."
"And ye better put it back on! I bloody earned that bounty and ye don't have any business lowerin' or removin' it," Michael shouted, increasingly annoyed with the delay in action. Takashi and Doc gave no response to Douglas's words, verbal or otherwise, but stood ready to fight the marines staring at them.
"To other pirate crews, they're known as the 'Alba-Trio', after the infamous albatross for how cursed they are. They never accept responsibility for their own actions but always work under a different captain so someone else takes the fall for their actions," Douglas boldly stated, "In other words, you're just their patsy, Hammie! I know that you didn't choose a life of piracy, and I know you feel you have no other choice right now, so I'm offering you this one chance of leniency!"
Douglas threw his arm back to point at the mountain before them, "Reverse Mountain is an entrance to the Grand Line only pirates take because of its danger and because it circumvents government-controlled traffic into the Grand Line. If you go through Reverse Mountain, you'll forever be condemned as a pirate. If you surrender to me now, I'll guarantee you and your brother's safety, and the record will go down with the two of you not as pirates but as pirate captives. You'll go free."
"Gee, that's real generous, sir, but…" Hammie said sheepishly.
"Wait!" Douglas objected, "Don't throw your life away on some misguided sense of loyalty to these pirate scum! The second it's convenient they'll betray you because that's what they do! I'll even guarantee you safe passage into the Grand Line! Just don't go down that dark, lawless road!"
Hammie seemed to hesitate for a brief moment, the offer sinking into his mind, "What's your name again?"
"Captain Douglas," the marine extended his hand in friendship. Hammie stepped forward and took it.
"Hammie!" Brody yelled, knowing that he either way he'd be classified in the 'pirate' category.
"Sorry," Hammie quietly apologized as the two grasped each other's hands, a truce in sight, "But as you should know, a captain doesn't just abandon his crew like that!" Hammie's grip tightened, and his free hand reared back to deliver a strong punch to Douglas's square jaw. The marine captain would probably have been knocked clear of the ship if Hammie hadn't been holding firmly onto him.
"Very well," Douglas grimaced, "You've made your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you! Douglas Punch!" Douglas countered with his own haymaker, hitting Hammie in the center of his chest. The boards beneath their feet cracked from the force as Hammie's grip was jerked aside and he was sent flying off the ship. The only thing saving him from being completely thrown overboard was the coiled rope and grappling hook at his waste which he swung around the yard of the Patchwork Princess, holding tight and bracing for the recoil.
"Bout bloody time we got this shindig started!" Michael grinned as he leapt out of the crow's nest head-first at Douglas, firing both Boomers repeatedly without any regard for his safety.
Explosions set off all around Douglas, but the captain paid them no mind. Instead he ran up the mast, past the falling Michael, just in time for the elasticity of Hammie's rope to jerk him back towards the ship. His free hand grabbing another tool, Hammie was hurled towards Douglas as the marine captain's fist met Hammie's hammer head on. Lightning flashed nearby, and the thunder was undistinguishable from the clash of the two forces. For that brief instant, the rain itself was expelled from the force of their clash.
"Don't ye bloody ignore me soljer boy-!" Michael ranted before falling shoulder-first onto the deck. He quickly jumped back up and cracked his sore neck, looking at the marines who had taken their captain's signal and were rapidly boarding the Patchwork Princess. "Fine. I'll jus' warm up a bit by thinnin' the herd a bit," he scowled as he cocked both guns.
Brody wanted to join in the main fray, but someone had to hold the wheel steady. Fortunately, he still had one arm and both legs to fend off any marines that tried to attack him. "Damn idiots! You're attacking a fishman in rain so thick we might as well be underwater!" Even one-handed, the water blasts exploded with the force of cannonfire and ensured that no marine could land a blow.
Meanwhile, Doc was managing to hold his own against the generic navy soldiers with nothing more than his sledgehammer and a flask he occasionally drank from. Takashi stood unusually still. "Aren't you going to fight?" Doc asked as he knocked away another soldier, "There's plenty of soldiers to go around, Takashi."
Takashi raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Where?" At that moment, two soldiers shouted in battle fury and charged Takashi swords drawn. Takashi's sword arm instinctively lashed out and cut them both down in one fell slash, but Takashi's expression remained unchanged, "There is no one here worth killing."
Doc sighed, "We're going to have to do something about that vision problem you seem to have whenever there's cleanup work to be done."
The chef shrugged nonchalantly, "I neither see nor feel nothing stronger than the rain pouring over us. Would you have me raise my sword against each individual drop?"
Doc slammed his hammer into the skull of another marine who drew too close, "And the bard's apparently taking a beauty nap. Great. Looks like it's up to you and me, Annie." the last remark directed towards the sledgehammer in his hands.
Standing out like a sore thumb among the marines was First Mate Valentina Vezzali, clad in full white fencing uniform and rapier drawn. She already had her target in mind. "Jude Carson!" she challenged. "Show yourself!"
On cue, the cabin door slowly swung open, Jude casually leaning against the door frame, rapier drawn in one hand and eating an apple in the other, smiling seductively. "You're a fortunate woman. There are a lot of women in the world who desire the ability to summon me to their presence by merely calling my name."
"Prepare yourself!" she responded confidently, "It's time we finish our duel from last time!"
"Last I recall, our little sparring match was resolved, with me coming out on top. However," Jude grinned, "I'd hate to leave a fan of mine… dissatisfied." Vezzali had never been more appreciative of her face-concealing mask now.
"Don't worry, ma'am!" Several of the soldiers gathered behind Vezzali. "We've got your back!"
"NO!" Vezzali loudly objected. "Er… that is, thank you, men. This opponent is very skilled, however, so I shall face him alone. Guard the door and secure the rest of the ship, and I will handle his… er… sword."
"Yes, ma'am!" The soldiers saluted in unison.
Turning her attention back to the dreamboat in front of her, Vezzali dashed forward, "En garde!" The two clashed swords within the confines of the cabin, the door slamming shut behind her.
Brody had little trouble defending his position from the waves of oncoming soldiers, some who were stupid enough to come at him more than once, but there were other problems to think about. "Hammie!" Brody yelled, "If we don't do something about their ship grinding against ours, it won't matter how many marines we beat back! Both ships will crash against the rocks!"
As the two captains traded blows while balancing on the yard of the ship, Hammie forced himself to gauge the ships' statuses. Both ships were coming into the current at 45 degree angles, their tangled bows preventing either from righting themselves. Even if the ships were untangled, only one could enter the current of Reverse Mountain and survive. The other would have to be removed from the equation entirely.
Unless…
Hammie eyeballed the river climbing up the mountain. It was difficult to tell exactly how wide it was from this distance in this storm without proper measuring equipment especially as distracted as he was. There were stone arches along the river itself, large enough for ships to pass through, and each of the same design. That at least hopefully meant the river was of uniform width the entire way up. This might work, but there was only one way…
"Don't get distracted!" Douglas had no such concern on his mind as he brought his leg around in a full circle on Hammie's head. "Douglas Heel Drop!" Hammie's head dropped with a loud crunch, but the crunch wasn't from Hammie himself. While Hammie was still standing, only his head knocked down, the force of the blow had cracked the yard, leaving Hammie standing on an incline.
"You…" growled Hammie silently.
"What?" scoffed Douglas. "Don't tell me you expected mercy. That ship has long sailed."
"This ship hasn't, though," Hammie looked up into Douglas's eyes with a rage unseen before. "A lot of people worked really hard to give me this ship. So stop," his arm reached up and grabbed Douglas by the ankle, "BREAKING MY SHIP!" Hammie picked up the marine captain by his leg, swung him in several circles, and threw him far off into the storm.
As the captain hurtled through the air, Hammie took a quick moment to take a deep breath and compose himself. There was still the ship to save and little time to do so. He leapt from the yard of the ship down to the deck, something that in hindsight was pretty stupid as the floor beneath him easily collapsed, leaving him on the deck below. "Damnit," he cursed to himself. "Now I've got to fix that too." Nevertheless, this was still where he needed to be. He grabbed several large coils of rope that were still stored here and whatever spare wood he could find, even the splintered boards from the hole above him. Supplies in tow, he carefully lifted himself back up above deck. He headed towards the aft of the ship where the ships were the farthest apart. Any soldiers who dared to get near him were knocked away with a single swipe of the wooden boards he carried.
When he finally reached the point where the ships were the farthest apart, Hammie swung the various ropes and launched four grappling hooks to the other ship. He pulled with all his strength against a current so powerful it made steering either ship impossible. Slowly, the gap between the ships started to close as they budged closer with loud creaks and other grinding noises.
"Looks like I got careless," Captain Douglas thought to himself as he rocketed through the rain, "But I'm not done yet! Chapa!" As he called out for his cabin boy, a white streak shot from the navy ship, ricocheting off of nothing but the air itself, but still propelling him to reach Douglas even as the captain started his descent into the churning waters below.
"Don't worry, Captain!" the cabin boy said cheerfully as he seemingly flew through the air. "I'll give you a boost!" Air-dashing behind Captain Douglas, Chapa placed both of his feet on the captain's back. "Geppou!" The same technique that allowed the cabin boy to leap off the air itself rocketed Captain Douglas in the opposite direction back towards the ship. "Don't worry, Captain, I'll catch up in no time!"
"Good work, Chapa! We'll beat these pirates yet!" Douglas gave a quick thumbs-up of approval as he plummeted head-first back towards the ship.
Hammie saw Douglas flying back towards the ship out of the corner of his eye, but his hands were still full saving both ships. "Hey guys!" Hammie tried to call out to the rest of his crew. "I've kind of got my hands full making sure we all don't drown. Can someone watch my back?" No answer as Jude was nowhere to be seen, Brody was stranded at the helm, and the other three paid no mind as they blasted and beat marines. "Guys?" Hammie called out nervously.
"It looks like you still have yet to earn the true sign of a captain: the respect of your crew!" Douglas exclaimed. With both fists outstretched at his target, he rocketed through the air like a superhero. "Douglas Meteor!"
Suddenly, a figure leapt out of the crowd towards Douglas to meet him in midair. "Finally," Takashi said with sword already drawn, "Something larger than a drop of water."
"Douglas Move Cancel!" The captain rapidly somersaulted in midair, not wanting to be sliced in half on his trajectory back to the ship. Instead, as Takashi slashed at Douglas, the captain clapped his hands together on the blade itself. "Douglas Sword Catch!" Takashi's weapon now caught, he made the mistake of making eye contact with the captain, who stared back with a fire that seemed to pierce Takashi's soul. "Douglas Disarming Glance!" Before Takashi could figure out what happened, his hands were empty, Douglas having wrenched his weapon from him while he was distracted and tossed it to the side. "Douglas Kick!" His opponent thoroughly disabled, Douglas's leg shot up and kicked Takashi across the ship towards his sword (after all, Douglas didn't want to deprive a swordsman of his honor), landing gracefully on the deck in full pose. "Where were we?"
Just as he got ready to charge the captain again, two massive tree trunk arms clamped around him, "Now, now, no moving around. Doctor's orders," Doc grinned in his massive, steroid-boosted muscular form, confident he had a firm grip on the marine captain.
"Unfortunately, Doctor, I must insist on a second opinion," Douglas quickly snapped back. "You see I kept my body healthy in the academy through rigorous exercise and physically intense extra curriculars…" Whether it was the rain or simply a looser grip than he thought, Douglas quickly slipped out of the hulking doctor's grasp and dashed behind him, throwing his own arms around Doc's waist, "…like wrestling, which by the way in my class was categorized by skill not weight." Doc's current size didn't matter, as Douglas knew exactly how to use his opponent's weight to his advantage, grappling Doc and throwing him backwards, slamming him into the deck. "Douglas Suplex!" The Doc stunned for the moment, Douglas stood up to admire his handiwork. "Not to mention I've already had my apple for the day, Doctor."
The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Douglas to whip around, staring down the twin barrels of Michael's pistols. "How about these apples?" Michael laughed maniacally as he unloaded several explosions at point-blank range into Douglas's chest.
His smile quickly vanished, however, when the smoke cleared and Douglas was not only still standing, but there wasn't a scratch or blemish on his perfectly chiseled abs. "Douglas Iron Chest! Because when you take pride in your appearance, you should be prepared to protect it! I guess by that rule you needn't worry about attacks hitting you in the face though."
"That's just hittin' below the belt," Michael protested. "I'm the only one who's supposed to resort to cheap shots around here!"
"In that case, I'll meet your expectations with something more direct!" Douglas's leg whipped around, threatening to catch Michael in the side of his head. "Douglas Roundhouse-"
His foot never connected though, as a giant monkey wrench clamped around Douglas's outstretched leg, stopping the attack. "Sorry about that," Hammie politely apologized, "but I'm all done now. Shall we?" Without a hint of malice in his voice, Hammie took Douglas by the clamped leg and slammed him into the decks of both ships a few times.
Hammie had finished his project just in time, rope intertwined between the railings both ships, knotted so tightly it was as if the ships were somehow sewn together. Suddenly, both ships were sailing on a steep incline, having just entered the reversed river. There was little room on either side between the ship and rock, but the ships still fit side-by-side as they both traversed the mountain. And despite gravity's objections, both ships raced even faster than before up the mountainside, stone arches whizzing over the tops of the two ships.
While Hammie and Douglas traded blows alone, Michael, Doc, and Takashi got to their feet. "Damn bastard got away," Michael spat, "an' I was winnin' too. Now who'm I s'posed to blow up?"
Doc shook off the dizziness from his head hitting the deck and picked up his sledgehammer, "Pipe down, Michael, we've still got plenty of soldiers to take care of. They haven't quite learned how to stay down yet."
"I guess blowin' up a few nameless mooks isn't me normal glass o' whiskey, but it'll have to do," Michael cracked his neck and loosened his shoulders as he twirled his Boomers in anticipation. "Speakin' o'which, where are all the nameless mooks?"
Doc looked around, equally confused, "Looks like they're all either going after Brody or backing off. Figure they've had enough?"
Takashi, having remained silent until now, took his sword and assumed a defensive stance, seemingly staring down the air itself.
Michael raised a nonexistent eyebrow, "What is it, Takashi?"
For a raging battle up a rising rapid in a storm, things grew suspiciously quiet on the three's end of the ship. Takashi quickly raised his sword to parry what seemed to be nothing. Suddenly, someone suddenly appeared in the air above him, kicking down and hoping to catch the swordsman off-guard.
"What the…? You!" Despite having attacked Takashi, Michael and Doc were the ones surprised by Chapa's sudden appearance, having remembered their last encounter with the at-the-time seemingly ordinary cabin boy.
"This'll be even easier than last time," Chapa grinned, raring for a fight.
"As if ye lil' crap-stain!" Michael scowled. "I went easy on ye befor', but this time I ain't goin' to hold back!"
"Since when have you ever held back just because it was a kid you were beating up?" Doc interjected.
"Quiet ye bleedin' heart!" the gunner snapped back at the doctor. "Whose side are ye on, anyway?"
Takashi had no interest in witty banter as he rushed forward with his sword in one hand, and another blade salvaged from the marines in the other.
Chapa wasted no time in setting off a flurry of kicks in Takashi's direction, still confident even unarmed. "Rankyaku!" With each arcing kick, Chapa let loose a piercing shockwave that might as well have been a blade on its own. This attack had caught Takashi off-guard last time, but since he was expecting it, Takashi barely managed to parry the air blades, though couldn't find an opening to counter with. "Soru!" When the barrage of blades stopped, Chapa was nowhere to be seen, having instantly vanished from his former position. When Takashi finally sensed the boy's presence it was too late. "Shigan!" The attack that pierced his back near his heart felt like a bullet or knife, but as Chapa withdrew his arm it turned out to be only his rigid index finger soaked with blood. Takashi doubled over in pain. Chapa had managed to nick a major vital point, one Takashi couldn't just ignore and continue as he fell to his knees.
Michael wasted no time in unloading a barrage of explosions on Chapa, but it didn't matter. "Kami-e!" Explosions went off around Chapa left and right, but they always seemed to just miss him as his body swayed in the wind.
Frustrated, Michael kept firing until it happened: the other familiar click from his Boomer. "I was wonderin' when that was gonna happen." The gun backfired, the explosion throwing Michael back and knocking him out of commission.
"The more you use your guns, the more likely they'll backfire on you," Chapa stated smiling. "That's your weakness. Well, one of them anyway. It's in the top ten percent for you at least."
Something slammed down on Chapa from above as Doc's large, muscled hand pinned the boy to the ground, sledgehammer in the other hand. "I really hate doing this to a kid, but you brought it on yourself." Doc raised his sledgehammer up and brought it down on Chapa's head.
"Tekkai!" When the hammer hit, it gave a loud clang as if it struck solid metal, certainly not the noise Doc was expecting. He raised his hammer to see Chapa perfectly fine and a slight dent in his precious Annie. "Soru!" Whether Chapa teleported or simply found a way to wriggle out of Doc's grasp was unimportant because either way Chapa was no longer there. Doc sighed, remembering their last battle and knowing exactly what was about to happen. "Shigan!" Sure enough, two strikes that felt like bullets but were really just Chapa's index fingers pierced the back of his knees.
Chapa quickly dashed away, smirking at the three pirates he easily beat again. "If the lot of you couldn't beat the Six Styles of Rokushiki before, what makes you think you stand a chance now? I can pierce any defense you've got with Rankyaku and Shigan, endure any attack with Tekkai and Kami-e, and fly circles around all of you with Soru and Geppou!"
Suddenly, two large blue webbed hands clasped around Chapa, picking him up before he had a chance to react. "Put me down, you pirate-!"
"SHUT UP!" Brody snarled, the bestial growl intimidating the cabin boy into silence for the time being. "Do you know what today is?"
"Um… Saturday?" Chapa guessed, in truth worrying less about the date and more about the great white shark fishman that had ahold of him, his grip too tight to wriggle out of.
"Today's my wedding day," Brody growled. "Where do you think someone would want to be on their wedding day?"
"Um…" Chapa tried to think for a minute, a difficult task with those two bestial eyes staring him down.
"Come on, it's not a trick question," Brody grunted.
"With their wife?" Chapa offered.
Brody grinned, his artificial smile even more unnerving than the natural sharp teeth of a fishman. "Very good. Do you know where I'm not?"
Chapa gulped, "With your wife?"
"3 for 3. We got a damn boy genius over here. Now, final round. How do you think it makes me feel spending my wedding day getting chased away from my bride by marines?" Brody asked with his voice becoming more angry with each word and his eyes becoming feral slits as he spoke.
"Mad?" Chapa squeaked in fear.
Brody jerked Chapa forward until their faces were only inches apart, "PRETTY DAMN PISSED OFF!" he roared. "You can fly, huh? Let's see you fly back here!" Brody punted Chapa like a football, sending the cabin boy screaming into the distance, but he wasn't quite done yet. "Fishman Karate…"
It took a few seconds of screaming in fear for Chapa to get ahold of himself and Geppou himself to safety in midair, reflecting on his situation. "That was close. I just froze there. I've never seen a fishman before. Aw, man, if Captain finds out about this, I'll never hear the end of it! What should I do? Should I go back now? Should I wait and see if Captain takes care of them first? Ugh, I'll never live up to Captain if I can't even… what's that?" His internal dilemma was briefly interrupted as a ball of water larger than he was launched up from the ship and exploded in his face.
Meanwhile, Hammie and Douglas traded blows on the rails of their respective ships, Douglas with his bare hands, and Hammie armed with hammers and wrenches.
"Douglas Roundhouse Kick!" Douglas spun around to deliver a kick to Hammie's face, but Hammie quickly knocked the leg away with a hammer to Douglas's ankle, causing the marine captain to sharply rotate in the other direction, attempting to deliver the kick from the opposite angle.
"Can I ask you something?" Hammie managed to speak in between blocking the flurry of kicks from Douglas.
"Isn't it a little late for words?" Douglas replied.
"Well, I was just wondering," Hammie said innocently, as if he forgot they were fighting for their lives on ships rapidly rising up a mountain. "Why do so many people just call out their attacks?"
"Come again? Douglas Chop!" Douglas broke his kick barrage to leap into the air, somersault, and bring his hand down Hammie's head.
"Like that!" Hammie pointed out as he caught Douglas's chop with his monkey wrench and hammer, crossed to catch and lock Douglas's hand. "Wouldn't that be kind of a handicap? Warning your opponent beforehand?"
"Nonsense!" Douglas grinned as he somersaulted around the opposite direction, his leg spinning and catching Hammie under his guard, kicking the unsuspecting pirate cleanly in the chin. "The greatest fighters boldly proclaim their attacks because it raises their fighting spirit and strengthens their attacks tenfold!"
Hammie moved his jaw around to make sure it wasn't broken, but seemed otherwise unphased and more curious than anything, "Really?"
"Of course! Douglas Barrage!" Douglas let loose both his arms in a flurry of punches. "Well, that, and copyright issues."
Hammie threw up the coil of rope at his side and let Douglas's rapid attacks entangle themselves. "Hm… Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to try it." Hammie reared back his fist and swung at his trapped opponent. "Hammie Punch?"
Douglas didn't even bother dodging or bracing himself as the half-hearted fist tapped his cheek. "That was weaker than your normal punch! I barely felt that!" he scolded.
Hammie shook his head, "Yeah, I don't think this is going to work for me."
"Nonsense, you just have to have more confidence in your fighting spirit!" Douglas tried to break Hammie's rope through sheer strength, but even against his strength the rope barely budged.
"How do I do that?" Hammie asked as he swung his hammer around at his entangled opponent.
"You have to summon all of your courage from within," Douglas reared his head back to dodge the hammer swing, "find the things you desire most in life," still unable to wrestle free from the rope, Douglas kicked Hammie's chest and leapt into the air, "put everything you are on the line," when the rope inevitably pulled him back, the marine captain thrust himself headfirst at his opponent, "and most importantly believe in yourself!" Douglas's head slammed into Hammie's, and the two recoiled in dizziness.
"That makes no sense," said Hammie shaking off the possible concussion.
"Those are just the words of someone inexperienced in true fighting!" Both hands still clasped together by rope, Douglas swung with both arms at once, "That or maybe you just need to work on your attack names."
Hammie recoiled from the vicious, two-handed blow to his face as Douglas prepared a similar strike, "How do you mean?"
"Well," Douglas slammed his fists together into Hammie a couple more times, "Douglas Punch is reflective of my own personal path to perfection, as I spent years perfecting the most precise punch possible to pulverize my opponents." He grabbed Hammie by the collar of his shirt, holding him aloft. "Here, try again. Free shot this time." Douglas paused in his otherwise relentless assault to make good on his offer.
"I'm not sure about this," Hammie said with uncertainty.
"We're already putting both our lives on the line in a battle to determine our respective fates. This is the perfect time to try newfound abilities out!"
Beaten, bruised, and in the grip of his opponent, Hammie merely shrugged, "If you say so. Maybe I should use my full name?"
"If you think that'll help."
"Here goes. Hamlet Punch!" Hammie swung a hook at Douglas, the marine captain once again making no effort to dodge or brace himself as this punch was just enough to get him to let go of Hammie.
"Well, that worked a little better. Still needs work, but on a different topic, your name is Hamlet?" Douglas inquired as he charged shoulder-first into Hammie's gut.
Hammie rolled off Douglas's back, his wrench catching hold of the rope entangling Douglas's arms, "Yeah, but really everyone just calls me Hammie. Hamlet just sounds kind of weird to me."
"I don't know, I think there's some serious potential there." Even as he spoke, Hammie was busy lifting Douglas with his wrench and slamming him into the decks of both ships as well as sliding him across the railing of the navy ship. "The Hamlet Hammer, for example, could be your new signature move. It sounds perfect!"
"So alliteration makes attacks stronger?" Hammie lifted Douglas in front of him and with one heavy kick pushed Douglas out of the rope and his grip.
The force of the kick threw Douglas back, his trajectory only stopped by his own mast, which slammed into his back. "Well, it doesn't hurt. The most important thing is feeling comfortable with your own attacks. For example, despite the simplicity of it, my strongest attack is still…" Douglas charged back forward and reared his fist back for his signature attack, "Douglas Punch!" Douglas's megaton punch struck true once again, but instead of flying off the ship, Hammie's body jerked violently, his leg wrapped in the rope connecting the two ships.
"Clever. Bracing yourself with the rigging. You should be more careful though. Any normal person would've still been sent flying and their leg would've been ripped off as well. Or the rigging could just break."
"Good point," Hammie conceded the possibility. "Glad it worked though."
"Indeed. Well, this has been a rousing battle, but we're nearing the top of the mountain. After all this, do you still think you can beat me?"
Hammie nodded, "I was kind of hoping for that, yeah."
"Well then," Douglas stepped onto the rigging in front of Hammie and wrapped his own foot in it to match his opponent, "I guess the only sensible thing is to settle this with one final attack." The two now stood fixed in place just within punching distance of each other.
"And how do we do that?" Hammie asked skeptically.
"We've both been conserving our energy for the long haul, hoping the other will run out of steam first." Douglas clenched his fist, posing dramatically. "What we need to do is put all our energy into one final strike!"
"Okaaay…" Hammie stared blankly.
"Come on then, Hamlet! If you think you can oppose the World Government, sail the seas competing with the worst pirates on the Grand Line, and find the legendary treasure One Piece, you'll have to best me first!"
"I don't want to do all that," Hammie said plainly. "I just want to find my dad."
"Either way, that involves going through me. Prepare yourself!" Douglas loudly challenged.
Hammie sighed, "All right, if you say so. But I'm not doing the attack-name-thingy yet, I think I need to practice more with that."
"If that is your wish! Ready or not, here I come!" Douglas reared his arm back for the windup and poured everything he had into this one punch, the rain drops that touched it quickly evaporating into steam as his fist charge forward, "DOUGLAS PUNCH!"
"THIS IS RIDICULOUS!" Hammie returned the favor with his own fist, focusing on pouring his strength into that one punch to match Douglas.
The two fists rocketed past each other, striking both of their targets square in the face. The punches that would have normally sent each other flying to opposite sides of the mountain collided like freight trains. Both bodies tried desperately to fly off into the storm clouds, testing the strength of the ropes tying them down to their absolute limits. Finally, the same rope that Douglas with all his strength couldn't break, the same rope that raised a three-story houseboat from the depths of the ocean and hurled it through the air, finally snapped. Most of their momentum had already been absorbed by the rope, so instead of flying off into the distance, both captains were merely thrown across the decks of their respective ships, colliding with the masts. For a short time, both lay completely still.
"Are you still conscious, Captain Hammie?" Douglas managed to ask as he looked up.
Hammie groaned in pain, "Yeah, but I'm telling my limbs to move and they're not listening. You?"
"Hah! Same," the marine's laughter was cut short by several massive pains in his chest.
"So… What does that mean for us?" Hammie wondered.
"I can't remember the last time I've been challenged to this level," despite his pain and supposed mission failure, Douglas couldn't help but smile. "It has been a real honor, Captain Hamlet!"
"Well, I guess that means I win in the end?"
"Don't get so ahead of yourself!" Douglas cautioned. "What makes you think this isn't a draw?"
"Well, for starters, I've still got a crew left." Sure enough, even though Hammie lay near unconscious in no shape to fight or do much at all, standing around him were Brody, Michael, Takashi, and the Doc, having run out of soldiers to fight. Every marine was either incapacitated, overboard, or retreated.
Douglas looked at his surroundings to confirm that his opponent's victory was indeed absolute, and burst out laughing. "I suppose the day is indeed yours! Come to think of it, I haven't seen my first mate and she was rather anxious to fight yours as well. Vezzali?" he called out.
At his call, the door to the cabin of the Patchwork Princess opened, and a very disheveled Vezzali limped out, her uniform ripped in several places and her mask completely gone. She stepped out into the rain with messed hair and a glazed look in her eyes. "Y-yes?"
"What happened to you? Your clothes are all ripped and you look like you've been in the worst fight of your life."
"I-I do?" Vezzali half-responded before coming to her senses and noting her surroundings. "Yes. That's exactly what happened," she said blank-faced.
"Well, were you victorious?" Douglas had to ask.
"Um…" Vezzali started to respond just as Jude followed out, smiling confidently. One look at that smile was enough for the normally confident Vezzali to faint into unconsciousness, fortunately onto her own ship.
"I'm going to take that as a no," said Douglas.
"Hammie," Brody said to his captain, "I don't mean to rush you or anything, but we're going to hit the top any minute now, and we still don't have a way to turn the ship."
"Ugh… I thought of a way earlier, but now my head's going all fuzzy-wuzzy…" Hammie slowly faded through the concussion and fatigue.
The still boosted Doc stepped up and pulled a syringe from his coat pocket. "Here, this'll hurt like hell later, but it'll get you going for now." Apparently not worrying about being gentle, Doc stabbed Hammie's shoulder with the needle.
"YOWZA!" Instantly Hammie leapt to his feet as if someone had lit a fire where he sat. New energy pouring in to him, Hammie instantly set to work. "All right, any marines that are left go back on their ship. Douglas, it was nice meeting you, and I hope you survive this, though honestly I'm not sure how. Brody, can you redirect the currents with your Fishman Karate?"
Everyone except Doc were stunned at Hammie's sudden recovery, but with the impending doom Brody managed to put aside his amazement to respond, "I can, but not enough to turn us safely."
"Every little bit helps," he quickly turned to the next crew member. "Doc, I need you at the helm to keep us steady, and any more of those boosters you can give us will help."
"Okay, but don't blame me later when your brain tries to strangle itself with your spine," he warned against any more of his drug cocktails.
"Jude, Takashi, on my signal I need you to cut all the ropes holding us to the marine ship." It was impossible to gauge their reactions since neither Takashi's stoicism and Jude's pokerface gave any, but nonetheless they both seemed to get ready. "Michael," Hammie started.
"Now see here, ye bloody fascist," interrupted the one person on the crew who would apparently rather die than be told what to do. "Jus' cause yer the captain and yer feelin' all high and mighty don't mean ye can just tell ol' Mikey what to do. I'm a free spirit, and I'll do whatever I…"
"I need you to load all the gunpowder we have into all the cannons and point them at the marine ship. Please," Hammie added quickly before Michael could talk them all into a shipwreck.
Michael paused, his original train of thought gone, "I see this as the start of a good workin' relationship." He grinned madly as he skipped down to the cannons.
"Just please don't fire until I give you the signal!" Hammie shouted after him.
"No promises," was the sing-song response from down below. "Uh… Hammie?" Michael called back, much less cheerful than before. "Ye might want to come see this."
Hammie poked his head down one of the many holes on deck. Down below, Michael was pointing out one of several large rifts in the hull of the ship. Not just battle damage, but more and more of the planks were popping loose every second. The ship was falling apart at the seams, slowly now but growing faster each second, cracking open like an egg. "So ye want to jump overboard or wait till we completely fall apart?"
Michael glanced back at the captain, expecting to see him give up or break down. Instead, Hammie took a deep breath and quickly surveyed the damages, even as they grew. A loose board on the inside of the ship popped loose sending a nail flying straight at Michael. Before the gunner could get a new unwanted piercing, Hammie's arm shot out and caught the nail inches from Michael's face. "Neither," came the response. "Just get the cannons ready. I'll take care of the ship." Hammie grabbed every spare coil of rope, board, and nail he could possibly carry and hurried back up to the deck.
Quickly hooking a grappling hook to the yard of the mast, Hammie tied the rope around his waist, giving it a few good tugs to make sure that wouldn't fall apart as well. He tightened both his bandanna and tool belt firmly, secured the bundle of wood over his shoulder, and leapt off the side of the ship.
"That's my brother," Jude grinned as he stood with Takashi on the side of the ship, waiting for the supposed signal to cut the ropes attaching them to the marine ship. "He couldn't perform a puppet show in front of schoolchildren without falling to pieces, but when it's five minutes till curtain on opening night and the set is in shambles, there's only one person to rely on."
The rope strained but held as Hammie was suspended in the air along his ship, nothing between him and the churning waters below except the occasional sharp rock along the shoreline. Wasting no time, Hammie hurled several boards at once at the ship. The boards slammed into the hull along its growing cracks. Before the boards could fall into the ocean, Hammie tossed several nails into the air and swatted them all with his hammer, imbedding each one into the wood and nailing it to the ship.
A few tugs let him move to the bow and the stern, performing similar long-range repairs all along the ship. The other side, however, was blocked by the marine ship, and Hammie's method wouldn't work there. So he planted his feet firmly on the front of the ship before cutting himself loose. The only thing making this possible was that he was standing on the front side of the ship while it was on an incline, giving him at least some ground to work with. He nailed another hook firmly to the side of the ship, took another deep breath which unfortunately happened to be mixed with the salt water of the river crashing on his back, and leapt off the side of the ship, rope firmly in hand.
He fell along the side of the ship, roaring waters merely inches below him. As the rope quickly grew taut, Hammie swung himself around the rear of the ship, bungeeing back up around the other side, the rope circling around the ship behind him. When it didn't look like he'd quite make it all the way back up to the front of the ship, Hammie grabbed onto one of the cannon port holes and thrusted himself the rest of the way.
Michael jumped backward when he saw Hammie grab the side of one of his cannon ports and rocket past the rest. The shock was momentary, as he was still struggling to get the cannons into position. With this incline and turbulence, the three old cannons they had on board kept sliding to the back of the ship. "Come on, stand still for Uncle Mikey…" the cannoneer pleaded as he pushed the cannon back up the incline for the fifth time. "Stop rollin' around now. Almost there." He angled the cannon into position just as it slipped his grip and rolled back with the other cannons. "BLOODYSONUVA…" Michael cursed as he angrily grabbed his one still-working Boomer and blew three large smoking holes in the floor. "Now see what ye made me do?" This time when he grabbed the cannons, they managed to stay in place thanks to the holes in the floor holding them steady. "Tha's better," Michael sighed with relief. "Now let's go blow somthin' up."
Hammie circled the ship twice more, wrapping the rope around it until there was none left. Standing on the hull of the ship, back to the pounding waves ahead of them, Hammie tied the ropes together, keeping the ship from falling apart. Hammie tugged on the ropes with all his might, making his raw strength the only thing keeping the ship together.
It was just in time, as both ships finally reached the top of the mountain and careened high into the air high above Reverse Mountain's peak. "NOW!" Hammie managed to yell now that his mouth wasn't full of salt water.
"A tragedy, such a performance and no real audience to perform to." On cue, Jude and Takashi, who despite the turbulence stood casually at opposite ends of the ship's railing, drew their swords, Jude tapping his shoes to the deck as he warmed himself up. "But oh well. If what we need is a stage-shattering performance, then that's what Jude Carson will give. Dance Floor Inferno!" Jude's shoes slid across the railing along with the tip of his sword, and despite the rain and the wet wood, the friction was enough to start a fire that danced along with Jude's blade and his feet. What ropes he didn't immediately sever were now set aflame as Takashi followed suit with his blade. "Sujigiri!" Takashi treated the ropes as he would've the tough sinews of raw meat, cleaving through the remaining ropes with a single strike, finally completely severing the ships from each other.
All three cannons exploded at once, packing far too much gunpowder than they should have been able to take on, blasting the marine ship away as well as propelling the Patchwork Princess to change its angle mid-air. Hammie really hoped that the marines on the other ship would survive this, but for the moment he was having enough trouble keeping his own ship together. The Patchwork Princess managed to stay in one piece as long as Hammie and his rope coiled around her and held the ship together, but all that leverage that gravity had given Hammie earlier now worked in the opposite direction. The ship held, but now threatened to flatten Hammie when they both crashed back onto the mountain.
As the Patchwork Princess plummeted back to earth, something reached down and swung Hammie back up to the deck of the ship. The captain turned to see Doc with his hammer giving him the reach he needed to scoop Hammie out of the air and back on deck. "Don't give me any crap about orders, there's nothing to steer in the air," Doc said as he held onto the ship for dear life. Hammie silently thanked the doctor as he held the grip on the ropes that kept the Patchwork Princess together.
Meanwhile, Brody kneeled on the lowest deck of the ship he could reach. He knew the principles and theory behind the technique he needed to execute, but this was the first time he'd ever had a chance to use it. "We are not crashing into the ocean like a rock," Brody breathed deeply and attempted to meditate to himself despite the ship falling through the air. "We are like any other sea creature, returning to the waters. Fishman Karate Secret Technique…" Both palms outstretched on the deck floor, "Diving Whale!"
Everyone on the ship wisely braced themselves for the ship's crash-landing, but the impact while still rough was much softer than anyone could ever imagine, as if the current had actually cushioned the blow to the ship. His main role done, Brody rushed to the deck to see the ship sliding down the mountain on its one downward current. "We did it…" Brody said astonished, "We actually did it! We're on the Grand Line!" The storm seemingly instantly vanished as the view stretched on for miles to the wide open sea.
"HAHA! Watch out, Grand Line, yer worst nightmare is back in the game," Michael cheered, "and this time ye won't be rid of Michael Collins so easily!"
"If I weren't a doctor, I'd swear I was dreaming," Doc muttered as he held on for dear life. "I still don't believe it. We're actually back."
Takashi remained silent, but stared off into the distance as if he could see beyond the horizon at the challenges that awaited them all.
"If all the world's a stage," despite his attempts to remain calm and composed, even Jude couldn't help but smile widely at the sight, "then I'm about to take center spotlight."
Hammie's arms still held onto the ropes for dear life to keep the ship together, but even still he found time to enjoy the moment as well, though silently. Is this what life is like as a pirate captain? Or is it just like this coming to the Grand Line? Can the Grand Line really be more exciting than this? Hammie stared off into the horizon. Either way, there's no turning back now. If you're still out there, dad, I'll find you...
The Patchwork Princess and its crew sailed down the mountain, feeling ready for any challenge that awaited them. But not even they could realize the adventure that lurked just ahead…
Several days later…
Groggily, his eyes opened. His brain overloaded itself trying to remember those moments just before he lost consciousness. Or maybe that searing pain and confusion was just the concussion.
"Captain! Glad to see you're awake, sir!" the familiar female voice sounded.
Captain Douglas awoke to find Vezzali in casual dress standing at attention. He was laying in the familiar bed of a marine hospital, one of the private rooms they usually gave to marines of high rank. A quick glance to the opposite side of the hospital bed found his cabin boy Chapa sleeping on the couch.
"He recovered fast, but insisted on staying by your side until you awoke. He managed to stay awake for about 45 hours straight before he finally fell asleep. You've been unconscious for about five days total, sir," Vezzali explained.
Douglas smiled warmly at the loyalty of his young apprentice. "And the rest of the crew?" The memory started coming back to him, but after he was beaten on Reverse Mountain by the innocent young man he couldn't remember much.
"Eight men are still MIA, sir. 27 men are critically injured, but they're stable and will eventually recover. The rest managed to suffer only minor wounds," Vezzali shuffled a stack of papers that she read the report from. "No confirmed casualties, though."
"Simply amazing," Douglas remarked proudly. "That any of us could have survived that ordeal, much less with no casualties."
"It is simply a testament to your ability as captain, sir," stated Vezzali.
"How did we survive?" Douglas couldn't help but ask.
Vezzali blinked for a moment, surprised. "It was you, sir."
"Me?"
"Yes, sir," Vezzali nodded, "Even though we were defeated and you were in no shape to move, when the pirates blasted our ship it crashed onto the side of the mountain. Despite your injuries, you immediately leapt off the ship and braced it by yourself. You directed and slowed the ship's descent into something that was at least survivable. While the ship itself was damaged beyond repair in the end, we did manage to make it into the sea. After we fished your unconscious body out of the water, we floated in the Calm Belt for a few days, the seastone covering of the ship protecting us from the Sea Kings who dwell there. Chapa, who fell overboard in the battle, managed to find us, and promptly left to find assistance. About two days later, we were picked up by a nearby marine ship and towed to the nearest base."
"Very thorough, First Mate Vezzali," Douglas gave a thumbs up approval, which surprisingly hurt.
"Just doing my duty, sir."
"And that young man and his ship?" Douglas asked
"The pirate captain," Vezzali stressed the word, "And his crew have been reported to the proper authorities. When you and all of our personnel are healed to the point of service we are to return to our station in North Blue."
"What?" Douglas shot upright, "He's just a kid! You've condemned him to being on the wrong side of the law forever!"
"With respect, Captain," Vezzali interrupted, "Proper protocol dictates that we should have reported them earlier. They are, in fact, pirates, no matter how inexperienced, and we are, in fact, marines sworn to hunt and capture said pirates."
"That's not the point!" Douglas objected, "We still could have saved them."
"Besides, sir, I did need to fill out a full report about why a captain was floating on a destroyed marine vessel unconscious in the middle of the Calm Belt."
Douglas's eyes narrowed at his all too efficient and pragmatic lieutenant, unable to come up with a decent objection to his subordinate's actions. Quickly failing the staring contest with the first mate, Vezzali handed a few of the papers from her stack. "Here are the initial bounty posters. The final bounties aren't finalized, so if you like you can argue with the bounty officer."
The still bedridden marine reluctantly took the papers: a series of bounty posters fresh off the presses.
"And no, I didn't come up with the name," Vezzali quickly added as her captain looked over the bounty posters.
"That's a shame," Douglas responded. "It's appropriate, given what little we know of their potential record." Turning the page to the final poster, Douglas's eyes widened as soon as he read the bottom of the poster. "Vezzali! This name, where did you get it?"
The first mate raised an eyebrow. Apparently there was something in the posters her captain saw that she couldn't. "It was pulled from official birth records. Why? Is it important?"
"Chapa!" Douglas suddenly called out to his sleeping cabin boy.
Chapa jumped up from the couch to stand at attention, still half-asleep as he saluted, "All done pooping the clean deck, captain!"
Douglas ignored Chapa's ramblings as he stepped out of bed and began getting dressed into uniform. "Round up as many able troops as quickly as possible, and get us a ship ready to sail. We're going after them."
"Aye aye, Captain!" In an instant, Chapa vanished, having dashed off to fulfill his captain's demands.
"But sir, our orders!" Vezzali tried to object before Douglas interrupted.
"Are secondary to the peace and order to the world! Let's go!" The captain strode out the hospital door with his subordinates in tow, leaving the bounty posters behind. The one on top showed the sketch of the innocent-looking pirate captain with the bottom caption reading:
Dead or Alive
Captain of the Shipwreck Pirates
Hamlet "Hammie" Shakespeare
Author's Notes:
Well, that is officially the end of the arc. Not the story, mind you, just the arc. And to think, this was supposed to be a short prologue. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the story. That kind of feedback is what motivates me and I'm sure many other authors to continue their stories.
I'll be taking a break from this story for awhile. Ever since the timeskip in the One Piece canon, I have to rearrange some things for the next arc, since currently this story takes place just after the timeskip (If Oda's changed certain things too much, I might scrap that idea and make the story take place in a different time period relative to the current One Piece canon. It's still early enough that that's possible.) When I resume, the next arc will have a separate entry on .
In the meantime, while I wait for Oda to crush all my carefully planned plots, I'll probably try to get fics for other things started as well, so keep on the lookout for that as well.
Once again, thank you all for reading!