Cactus Island, 9 years after Gol D. Roger's execution, roughly 13 years before a certain someone sets sail.
As the days passed and we ventured deeper into the tumultuous waters of the Grand Line, the challenges we faced seemed to grow exponentially. Snowstorms lashed at our ship with furious intensity, turning the world around us into a blinding white abyss. Cyclones, monstrous in scale and ferocity, threatened to swallow us whole, and the very sea itself seemed alive with creatures of previously unimaginable size and power. It was as if the Grand Line itself conspired to test the mettle of those who dared to sail its treacherous waters.
The crew, already on edge from the relentless trials we faced, began to show signs of strain. Bear King's absence and his subsequent lack of leadership in these perilous conditions were beginning to take their toll on the men. Their once boisterous camaraderie had been replaced by a palpable tension that hung in the air like a storm cloud.
Amidst this chaos, I found myself, Pin Joker, and Skunk One in the galley. Pin Joker had ordered Mortimer, the ship's cook, to take stock of our dwindling supplies, providing us with a modicum of privacy.
Pin Joker and Skunk One spoke in hushed tones, their voices carrying an air of apprehension. They were clearly concerned about being overheard, particularly by their enigmatic captain. Skunk One leaned in closer, his eyes darting around to ensure no prying ears were nearby. Then, in a whisper, he began to share what they had observed regarding Bear King's condition.
"He's not the same," Skunk One muttered, his voice tinged with worry. "It's more than just the Grand Line getting to him. He's been plagued by fatigue, can't seem to quench his thirst no matter how much he drinks, and... he's been seeing things."
I nodded, feigning concern. "It's rough out here, no doubt about it. The Grand Line can play tricks on the mind. We're all feeling the strain, aren't we?"
Pin Joker chimed in, his voice equally low. "We've got to get to Whiskey Peak, Hadley. That's where the eternal pose is guiding us. But with the captain in this state, I'm starting to worry if we'll make it there in one piece."
I played my part well, pretending to share their concerns. "I know what you mean. We need him at his best for this journey. Without strong leadership, we're all at risk. Let's hope he recovers soon."
Inside, my heart raced with anticipation. The pieces of my plan were fitting together, like a carefully constructed puzzle falling into place. But despite the act I had to put on, I wasn't lying when I told Pin Joker and Skunk One that we all felt the strain of the Grand Line's trials. This perilous sea had already left its marks on me, too. I was beginning to understand why some pirates abandoned their dreams of the Grand Line entirely.
What was worse, the relentless acting, something I increasingly realized I wasn't cut out for, had me perpetually on edge. I yearned to get off this damn ship, to step onto solid ground and leave this life of deception behind. Wordlessly, I held up the eternal pose, checking to ensure that we were still sailing in the direction the needle pointed. It had become a near-obsessive habit, and thank God, the needle held true. A sigh escaped my lips as I allowed myself a brief moment of respite.
My eyes wandered to the starboard porthole, revealing the dark expanse of the night beyond.
Feeling the weight of the situation press down on me, I allowed a moment of genuine weariness and despondency to shine through. After a tired sigh and a shake of the head, I turned to Pin Joker and Skunk One.
"I think I need some fresh air," I admitted, my voice tinged with exhaustion. "I'll be in the Crow's nest for the rest of the night. Watch duty might help clear my head."
Their expressions softened with understanding, and Pin Joker nodded in agreement. "Aye, mate. It's been a rough journey for all of us. Take your time, and if you see anything unusual, give a shout."
Wordlessly I made my way out of the galley and headed for the Crow's nest. It was a solitary place, one where I could contemplate the path I had chosen, the alliances I had forged, and the dangerous game I was playing. The night air was crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the stifling tension on the Bear Pit. As I climbed higher, I couldn't help but wonder how much longer I could maintain this delicate balancing act before it all came crashing down.
I was a picture of misery as I slouched over the wooden railing of the crow's nest. In my hands, I held three wanted posters—Bear King, Pin Joker, and Skunk One. Combined, their bounties came close to 10 million berries, not bad for such a relatively fresh crew.
For who knew how long, my listless gaze had been wandering over the papers to the misty horizon and back. Bear King, the violent captain of the Bear Pirates, had a rap sheet as long as my arm, with a laundry list of crimes that included robbing and plundering with absolutely no regard for the common man or woman. This crew didn't care about the death they left in their wake; they were in it for the riches.
And yet, here I was, part of their crew, deep undercover in a dangerous charade. I had joined them to gain their trust, to get me where I wanted to be, and to ultimately use them.
I looked at Bear King's wanted poster again, his fierce visage staring back at me. His eyes seemed to hold a mocking challenge, as if daring me to continue this masquerade. I couldn't help but wonder if I was losing myself in this elaborate act, if I was becoming just as much a criminal as those that I had served under.
But my resolve remained unshaken. I had a mission to complete, and I couldn't afford to let doubt creep in. With a heavy sigh, I tucked the wanted posters back into my coat and returned my gaze to the horizon, the misty expanse that stretched out before me. A Marine soldier would be celebrated for putting them down, right? Why should I feel bad for a good deed?
As I settled into my watch duty in the Crow's nest, and actually started to pay attention, fate seemingly gave me an answer to my doubts. Slowly, ever so slowly, an Island crept through the morning fog and into view. I kept quiet and stared, my spyglass already in my hands...
This really looked like...a cactus! Big mountains shaped like goddamn cacti!
Cactus Island!
I was about to shout and wake the entire ship when I hesitated and listened.
I suddenly felt the weight of my knife at the small of my back, the familiar touch of cold steel through the silken shirt on my skin. My hand instinctively fell to the flintlock holstered at my side, fingers wrapping around the handle. I had to be cautious; I couldn't afford to let my guard down.
One gunshot, one misplaced word, and the gig would be up for me. But my mission was clear—their heads, my ticket into the bounty business.
As I continued to observe Cactus Island through my spyglass, the distinctive shapes of mountainous cacti became even more apparent. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. But I couldn't let my excitement get the best of me. It was one thing to spot an island; it was an entirely different challenge to safely anchor our ship and disembark.
With a deep breath, I lowered the spyglass and turned to descend from the crow's nest. There was still time, and the moment had to be just right. I wouldn't underestimate either the crew or a stray bullet.
I descended from the crow's nest, down back onto the main deck, and made my way to the nearby ship's bell. One last glance at the eternal pose in my hand confirmed that this wasn't some cruel joke. The needle still pointed firmly in the direction of Cactus Island. I couldn't afford any mistakes. I was on the home stretch now.
With determination in my eyes, I pulled the rope, and the ship's bell rang out in the stillness of the morning. Its echoing sound cut through the silence, reaching every corner of the Bear Pit. It was a call to action, a summons to the crew to gather on deck.
"Land, ho!" Pin Joker shouted at the top of his lungs when he burst almost immediately out of the navigation room and spotted the island getting nearer and nearer. The absolute relief in his voice was plain to hear, rather telling were also the large bags under his eyes.
As the crew members stirred from their slumber and emerged from below deck, I watched their faces carefully. I couldn't let my true intentions show, not now. I had to maintain my facade as a loyal member of their crew.
Bear King himself emerged from his cabin, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the deck...and he was a mess. No more the prideful tyrant, no more the fearsome savage, there was only exhaustion personified. Beneath the frailty, however, I saw curiosity and annoyance when he looked down on me, clearly wondering why I had disturbed the morning calm.
"Captain," I addressed him respectfully and pointed toward the bow, "Cactus Island!"
Bear King's eyes widened with surprise, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of excitement in them, and suddenly the pirate captain rose from within the shell of a man. "Prepare to anchor the ship," he commanded, his voice carrying authority. "We're going ashore, boys!"
This close to the finish line, the crew of the Bear Pit was indeed a well-oiled machine. The sails were quickly prepared for what seemed to be a long, narrow inlet or even a river leading further inland. The morning mist still clung to both shores, obscuring much of our view, but the crew's efficiency was unwavering.
I watched as the shoreline slowly came into focus, revealing the silhouette of a quaint little village nestled among the rocky landscape. The handful of houses I could see from the ship looked nice and inviting, their adobe structures blending seamlessly with the somewhat barren surroundings. Just further ahead, a little but sturdy dock protruded from the portside shoreline, awaiting our arrival.
In a matter of minutes, our carrack glided into place, the sails fully furled, and Pin Joker quickly jumped down onto the dock to moor us to one of the pillars. The ship settled with a soft creaking, and the crew members began to prepare for disembarkation, while a gangplank was quickly secured.
Bear King joined us on deck, his fatigue momentarily forgotten as he surveyed the village before us. There was a spark of excitement in his eyes, a renewed sense of adventure that had been missing for far too long.
"Alright, lads," he bellowed, addressing the crew, "We've reached Cactus Island! Time to stretch our legs and see what this place has to offer. But stay alert; you never know what surprises await us in these waters."
The crew responded with a chorus of cheers and hurriedly began to prepare for our landing. I watched as they readied themselves, their energy and enthusiasm infectious. It was as if the discovery of Cactus Island had breathed new life into the crew, reminding them of the thrill of exploration and the promise of treasure.
If the crew hadn't been so exhausted and excited for the new island, they might have noticed that I hadn't said a word since I pointed toward our destination. My silence went unnoticed amid the chorus of cheers and the bustling activity on deck.
I remained in the back, taking deep, calming breaths through my nose. I didn't share the crew's elation, not yet. I still had a job to do, and my mission weighed heavily on my mind. I watched my targets—the captain and his top lieutenants—make their way over the dock, while the rest of the crew neatly fell in line with me at the rear of the group. Slowly, as we reached solid ground, they began to fan out, eager to explore the island they had so eagerly anticipated.
Bear King led the way at the front, his imposing figure commanding attention. To his left was Pin Joker, and to his right, Skunk One. All three of them seemed to revel in the feeling of dirt beneath their feet after such an arduous journey.
I glided silently through the small crowd until I stood almost in the shadow of the giant man. Just out of sight of his two younger brothers. The crew members around me didn't bat an eye at my passing, seemingly not noticing the dagger concealed in my left hand or the calculated position of my right.
My mind was blank...
My breathing was even...
I was the Butcher Boy...
Without a single word, my left hand shot forward, and the blade slipped into Pin Joker's back, piercing through his ribs with unnerving precision. The knife, its blade meticulously sharpened for hours, easily slid out, leaving no room for a cry of pain. In one smooth motion, I pivoted on the spot, and it was rammed into Skunk One's neck, severing his vocal cords and silencing any potential alarm.
While Pin Joker crumpled next to me, Skunk One remained standing, rigid in shock. I moved swiftly, my mission clear and unwavering. With my left hand still on the handle of the knife stuck in Skunk One's neck, my right hand came up, the world around me seemingly in slow motion. The barrel of the flintlock came to rest on my outstretched left arm, now directly pointed at the back of Bear King's head.
The finger on the trigger didn't hesitate...