My eyes snapped open at the all too familiar pain of something foreign entering my chest, clawing as it shifted in my chest, ripping at what little was left there. Taking a moment to get up for a better angle, now looking at my chest head on I could see it was the gem.
Grabbing the shovel at my side I started to dig it out, working at the flesh turned rubble as I did so. As the pebbles and stones were moved aside the gem was dislodged, falling at my feet. Reaching down to grab it, I picked up the microphone of the Transponder Snail, handing it to the monster.
"Thank you," It said in Captain McCarthy's voice, as he started speaking incoherently to the transponder snail, the voice on the other end seeming rather angry.
"The hell's wrong with you!" The person on the other end shouted, "You're going to wake him up!"
While that was a little confusing I went back to digging at the rubble, using it to fill the graves behind me.
"Here, just stab hi-"
I awoke with a start screaming in pain as something sharp dug into my side. It took a couple moments for my eyes to adjust to the blinding light in my face, which was thankfully a lanturn not some Devil Fruit power. A group of men were over my bed, one holding- "You stabbed me!" I yelled, motioning to the cutlass in my gut.
"Fuck!" One of them were smart enough to yell as I elbowed one of their friends. A now all too familiar power pulsing from the Gem in my chest as the blow connected, and the blow that should have just had the man doubling over instead threw him across the room smashing into the small dresser.
"Jason!" One of them yelled, before drawing a sword of his own, raising it up to strike. Before I was even able to see where he was aiming I awkwardly swept my leg out catching him and his friend behind him. Letting the same swell of power from my chest strengthen the blow sending the two flying head over heels.
The fourth and final- bounty hunter? Yeah, probably.
The fourth and final bounty hunter was already raising his hands, "He- hey! They roped me into this! I swear I go-"
"Dude," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes, "It's late o' clock, I don't give a damn. Plus," I yelped as I pulled the cutlass out, "Owie… P-plus, Heartsteel tax." I said standing as I knocked on the orange and green gem in my chest, before giving him my best right hook.
With the fools of the day- er, night, dealt with I went about packing my things. Amidst packing my clothes I took a moment to open my notebook and scratched out "Heartsteel tax" from the "Catchphrase" section. If the Marines decided that I were a villain I might as well make light of it the best I could by sure as hell playing the villain.
Getting dressed was another thing entirely, yet another one of my shirts had been ruined by those idiot bounty hunters. Rolling up the now bloodstained shirt I had been wearing I threw it in the corner as I started struggling to pull off, Jason I think? Yeah, Jason. I started pulling off the aviator jacket Jason was wearing before putting it on.
It was a little snug, I was unable to fully close it, showing off the massive scar on my chest where my heart had been ripped out and replaced by the gem that saved, and ruined my life. I still had a good supply of the Marines working pants, as well as my hat which I picked up from my nightstand and plopped onto my head. The only thing different from the standard issue being the big black X over the Marine symbol.
After I was finished collecting my things I made my way out of my room and to the entrance of the inn I had been sleeping… well in!
Upon seeing me the half asleep bloke at the desk perked up a bit, "Are you leaving already sir?" He drawled sleepily, rubbing an eye.
"Yepper doo," I replied, beaming down at the boy and offering my room key, "Thank for th-"
"What the hell happened to you!" He yelled, suddenly very awake as he stared agape at my wound.
Looking down and touching it, only the wince in pain, I shrugged, "Only a scratch."
"Y-you call that a scratch?! I- I'll get the village Doctor!"
As I watched the man rush out the door into the night I shrugged, leaving the key on the counter as I made my way outside and towards the docks. As I hopped into my ship and started to take off from port I pulled out the lanturn those four had so kindly let me borrow to check my eternal pose.
Good thing it had reset, after a few minutes to make sure I had everything I needed, food bought from yesterday, a good book, the scrolls. Lifting up a plank I grabbed out my weapon, one of the small rods that had been on "display" I that cave. Clipping the thing to my belt, I set off, kicking my little sailboat away from the port.
"Mark this as the day you almost caught the Mad Leviathan! Oki Kujira!" I yelled to no one, or at least I thought to no one.
"Shud up!" Someone yelled from somewhere, "You and your corny ass sayings!"
"Fuck you!" I called back, grumbling as I opened up my notebook scratching out that particular one. Grabbing the oars I started to row away from the island before unfurling the sail.
Now that I think about it, that front desk guy-man-dude was probably in on it with those bounty hunters.
Thankfully from whatever ability allowed the Heartsteel to not only make me tougher, stronger, and bigger, it also had attached what I'd been calling a healing factor. Case in point as the sun was setting again the stab wound was already almost fully healed. It definitely helped with the all too eager to commit murder bounty hunters constantly coming for my head.
At least Captain McCarthy had an excuse. I shuddered at the memory of Akainu demanding McCarthy to basically rip out my new heart and give it to him on a silver platter.
How could someone like that be at the top of the pecking order? Able to demand the death of someone who's family had been in the Navy in one way or another, for generations! My dad would have ripped him a new one if he was still around.
I had hoped it was just one bad egg, but I kept running into examples of Marines being worse than Pirates. Pirates! The very things we swore to destroy!
I digress, that's a rabbit hole in and of itself. At least they pulled out the Isolation Epithets for me.
And isolate they did, it was hard to find people that weren't afraid of me just for my name and what I had supposedly done. If anyone would have seen me back then they would never believe what the Navy claimed I did. Killing all my friends? I was in fucking logistics! Technically a demolition expert but who cares at this point?
It was a very, very long two week journey to the next island. Six Island, named that way because it was shaped like the word six, not the number six. There did have to be a handful of islands in the Grand Line which were interesting in a more mundane way.
As I sailed my way into port I hid my hat inside the small cabin, there was a small Marine presence on the island and I didn't want to be immediately recognizable. That being said I am 7 and a half feet tall with a precious stone in my chest so I was really just trying to throw smaller stones in a glasshouse.
After disembarking I made my way into, still makes me sigh to this day, Six Town, sticking to backstreets. If the rumors were to be true– nestled away in an alleyway was a small book and antique shop, which, according to the sign in the window, served tea on Tuesdays.
"Good morning," An elderly woman called from deeper in the surprisingly long store, "I'll be with you in a moment dear!"
"Don't worry, I'll make my way over!" I called back, squeezing through an aisle (not that there were many to pick from) which was definitely not built for someone of my size.
As I got around the impossibly tall stacks of books and various antique items, I found a little old lady who glared at me. Like barely half my height, little old woman.
"Kujira," she said, causing me to blink in surprise.
"How the-" I started stopping myself, "Never mind, information broker. You know your stuff, right?"
The old lady laughed, "Nyeheheheh! If only I were that good! The World Government just made a huge hubbub when they released your bounty. Come, seeing they're here for business I'll get some tea."
"I don't really like tea."
The old woman scoffed as she fumbled with a set of keys, "Hot water for you then."
"Tea is fine," I corrected, as she opened a door into the backroom. My nose was assaulted by the unholy smell of secondhand smoke. As we walked inside I was given a pat down by a pair of old women that looked exactly like the one that had greeted me. Though one of them just only glared at me as she chewed on a cigar with a spiked baseball bat of all things in one hand a walker in the other.
After the woman slammed her walker into the floor a couple times a hatch in the floor opened up, leading to a staircase. Awkwardly ducking down to descend them, leading to yet another door which my guide knocked on sharply.
"Who is it!" A grumpy voice said at a small hatch opened in the door, which I'm pretty sure was just a mail slot.
"The milkman," my guide said.
"Eh?"
"The milkman!" She said a bit louder.
"Eh?"
"The milkman!" She yelled at a sudden volume that got me to jump.
"The milkman? Its only tuesda- oh the door!" The lady behind the door seemed to just remember her own damn job. A few seconds later after a couple clunks of pretty heavy sounding locks the door opened, revealing an entire operation… made up entirely of old women who all looked the same. I didn't know who to blame for these ladies' weirdness, the Grandline or just being senile.
Some looked to be going through files while others were doing things I would expect my Grandma to be doing, but with deadly weapons.
Knitting? Daggers instead of knitting needles.
Bingo? They were using bullet casings.
Crosswords? Actually that was pretty tame, wait, I'm pretty sure those were different types of weapons she was writing in.
"For information brokers you are rather heavily armed," I noted as the woman took a seat at one of the various tables.
"Nyeheheh, we do need a way to keep people from strong-arming us into giving up what we know," With a smile she pulled two cups of tea from… somewhere, "Now dear, what is it you need?"
"I need some help finding someone," I said, bringing out the three scrolls I had stolen from the eggheads before I had been driven from the Marines all those months ago, "While I'm not completely sure but…"
"Speak up deary. I don't have all day."
"I need to find Nico Robin," I firmly said, mostly to myself than to the granny, "I need her to translate these."
AN: Sorry if this isn't up to par with my other works. I had to post it without edits because in the near future I might be without internet for a bit and wanted to post something.
I hope you enjoy. Even the utterly confusing dream sequence.
