Home is where the hatred is

Chapter 2

I sat alone, with a beer in my hand. To those who know me, which is most likely none, this image would be indistinguishable from almost any other night of my life in recent years. The only outlier would be when I had spent the evening at the pub and was too drunk upon arrival at home to do anything but fall face-first into bed. Completely wasted.

This, however, was not like any other night. In fact, this was by far the craziest night of my life. I thought they were behind me at this point in my life.

It was now 5 pm, here in the East Blue it is late winter early spring. The sun was just beginning to set, I could hear movement on the street below. people passing by on foot and bike from work en route for home, bars starting to fill up, and sounds of dinner being prepared, coming from open windows. It was as if I had unlocked a state of hyper-vigilance due to the stress today, all my senses were focused to a razor's edge, textures came alive under my fingertips, smells were unique and profound, each one containing a story or a memory.

I took another deep pull on a strong and dark North Blue beer, supposedly the best brewers in the 4 blues. It was rich, dry, and refreshing. More expensive than my usual choice, I saw fit to take it from the fridge in Gus's Kitchen, he wouldn't need it anymore. I poured a small measure out between my feet onto the wooden floor. A symbolic gesture I had learned from some refugees from the island of Cozia. They were in mourning for their families and countrymen and I, my mother at the time and we spent an evening in drunken reminiscence.

I had taken Gus' keys and made my way to where I knew his flat to be. It was a modest two-bedroom flat with beautiful views of the harbour located in a wealthy neighbourhood. I found my father's sword on a table and had gone on to ransack the flat for anything of use. First I found a small metal box under his bed, I smashed the lock inside were his books of accounts, 200,000 beri, and a flintlock pistol, the most common firearm widely accessible in this sea, most sailors carried them as they were cheap and easy to acquire. This was a particularly nice model with two barrels, I loaded it and stowed it in the back of my pants.

I then fitted myself with an outfit from his wardrobe, as mine were old and threadbare and now speckled with blood. The outfit was brown moleskin slacks, brown worn leather boots, a button down, a suede coat, and a flat cap pulled low over my face. Each item is worth a couple weeks rent for me. I then relinquished Another beer and cigarette and attached the old family heirloom to my waist. It was a beautiful naval cutlass with a large bronze guard over the handle and a dark forest green handle and scabbard, it was honest in its simple design but the precision in its craftsmanship spoke of quality.

Slung over my shoulder was a satchel, inside was the money, a few bottles of beer, one bottle of rum, ammunition, clothes and some other odds and ends. I sat down at the kitchen table, lighting a cigarette and studying a piece of parchment. On it I had roughly sketched a layout of Virgil Hapner's mansion, I knew his son had the annex which faced into the west wall. I would sneak in and take the fruit by force if needs be. Getting in shouldn't be too hard, although Logue Town saw a lot of pirates due to its size and location, as the last stop before Reverse Mountain and it was almost unheard of for them to cause trouble due to the high marine presence in the city. Due to this, security around the property was minimal.

I held my breath as I heard light, heeled footsteps approach the door, and reached for the pistol at my waist, then I heard a gentle rapping on the door.

"Gus, I don't like to be stood up, let me in" a feminine voice rang out muffled slightly by the door.

"I know you're in there baby, I just want to see you." the same voice, softer now begged to be heard.

I could hear her resting her head against the door and sobbing slightly. She stayed there for a minute or two as I stayed silent and smoked my cigarette, hoping she didn't have a key and would let herself in. Eventually, she pulled herself together and left without another word.

I collected my things and finished my beer, it wouldn't do to linger here any longer, it was unnecessarily flirting with danger. I peeled the door open and peeked through the crack, satisfied that nobody was there I crept out a richer and far better-adorned man, equipped for what I had to do. Money, Drugs, Weapons. Check, check, and check. A joke my mum made up as a checklist for leaving the house.

I pulled the cap securely on my head and made my way into the street, I stuck to the shade moving quickly between groups of people in the busy street. Eventually, I made my way out of town and into a beautiful well kept district, it was lush with vegetation and interspersed with audacious mansions, finally, I came across the one I was looking for. It was a beautiful old house, made of marble and sandstone, somehow humble in its magnificence. I had come here once with my ex-wife, she was invited for a summer event. We were relegated to a marque in the garden but I remembered the place well as entranced as I was. I remember asking my wife if we should move into such a place, and she jokingly responded that it was too big and that I would only get lost on my way to the front door every morning.

It was funny the way my mind drifted to her at a time like this, we were quite happy together, but looking back I couldn't help feeling bitter. I know I could have done better for her, but it felt like it all boiled down to money in the end. I took a swig of rum hoping to exorcise her ghost.

I walked the perimeter to the south side where the wall was low and tangled with creeping vines, here lay the annex where Jr lived, as he had bragged on many occasions. 'Well it simply makes sense, papa, of course, let's me stay for free and I have my money nicely invested in some rental property in town.'

I picked a sturdy tree and climbed halfway up to get a good view, a few men were inside a large room with Jr, through its numerous windows I had good visibility. These men were appointed with swords, mercenaries it seemed, while Jr sat behind a large desk talking with them.

Jr POV

A young man sat in a large open office the size of a small gym, it's was appointed in the styles of old money, with hardwoods, beautiful rugs and paintings, and a roaring fire ensconced in a marble fireplace.

The young man sat puffing on a cigarillo with a lip-splitting grin stretched across his face. In one hand he held a fruit, ordinary only in its shape, the colour and design bellied a more mysterious nature, this was the near mythical devil fruit. This would offer power to those who ate it in exchange for their ability to swim or even function in water.

He slicked back his short fine hair and looked at the three men before him, dressed in tan suits with cutlass' at their waists, "Right then boys" he addressed them with a faux gruffness to show authority "I've paid upfront and handsomely, and I reached out to you three because you don't work with my old man. I'm gonna have you bring him here and we will stage his death as an accident."

The young man took a deep drag on his cigar and leaned back blowing it to the ceiling. The three men exchanged a quick greedy look, jr began speaking again "If this works out, I'll usurp my father's estate and enterprise and bring you three on as my main men, you'll be set for life."

A few hours passed, dusk had fallen, and with it came the cutting cold of early spring. The ornate wooden door to Virgil Jr.'s study was pushed open with no warning. In strode a tall man, broad shouldered with a large belly, his shoulders were squared and resolutely set as if in stone, he sported a well-groomed thick beard and a pair of warm rosy cheeks. When his eyes met his son, they snapped quickly to the fruit on his desk, sharpening slightly before setting into a happy squint as he smiled warmly at Virgil Jr.

"How are you son, I see now why you had someone bring me here, you have found something very special in todays shipment," he stopped a foot from his son's desk, still standing he reached an open palm out to his son "why don't you hand it over and we can see what you have got your hands on then."

Junior pulled the fruit closer to himself, "Don't be so hasty old man, I found the fruit and I'm gonna eat it, like I give a crap if I can turn into metal or control fire, or whatever," he announced.

The old man stepped back and sighed heavily, "It appears I have failed you as a father, there are elements of this business you simply do not understand, allow me to rectify this." The man pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. He took a deep breath in through his nose, his eyes closed and held it briefly "Do you honestly believe your luck is so grand that you would stumble upon such an artefact within a few scant months of managing this facet of my enterprise?"

The older man stopped, piercing his son with a steely gave, expecting no reply he forged on "I have been the sole large-scale importer and exporter of fruit and vegetables within the East Blue for 3 decades, our family has held this position for close to 900 years, going back almost to the void century. We have an important job entrusted to us by the world government that has afforded us certain allowances over the years, so long as we rigidly abide."

The two men in suits briefly looked at one another uneasily, some sensation that they should not be privy to this information creeping into their minds. Junior on the other hand simply stared at his dad his face a mask of confusion and anger.

"That job is the control of devil fruits in the east blue, of all the seas the east blue has the least devil fruit presence, to the degree that most of the population believe they are a myth. That is due to in no small part our family enterprise, you see devil fruits do not simply grow on trees. A normal fruit may grow on a tree and at some point, after reaching its maturity it will transform into a devil fruit."

"it is standard for us to have operatives in markets whose job it is to sort and remove any of these fruits, and have them passed on to the world government, this being a job which more than anything requires trust, few of my employees perform this task, I had intended to educate you soon however it appears I waited too long" he stopped explaining and waited for a moment, for the information to sink in.

"that's bullshit you just want the fruit for yourself, I found it so it's mine, I'm gonna eat it and be untouchable like Smoker"' the younger man spat in astounded fury.

"Please, I spoke with Mr Augustus Bilk, we work together on a few local endeavours and he saw fit to keep me well informed on your little shakedown of my employee, I have simply been giving you space till you saw fit to inform me."

"How is this for information you old fool, I'm taking over," Junior stood up knocking over his chair and slamming the whole banana peel and all into his mouth and struggled to swallow it all.

Virgil sat there seemingly unconcerned drumming lightly with one hand against his lap. junior began coughing wildly hunched over, slowly his coughs turned to laughter "hyahyahyahhh now you've done it father, I'm untouchable now. Tie him up lads."

The two men made to move from behind Virgil Senior, when he span with speed unbefitting his belly and age, raising two cupped hands towards the men. Both men suddenly fell backwards, shouting in surprise and horror to find the enormous rug wrapped around their feet. Slowly it began writhing up their bodies until the muffled screams slowly became grunts, then rasps and then nothing.

Virgil collapsed into his chair in stunned disbelief, watching in horror as his father murdered his mercenaries. His father the man who bandaged his knee when he scraped it as a boy, the man who taught him to ride a bike in the house's courtyard and consoled him when his first girlfriend dumped him for his best friend. For the first time, he didn't recognise him, and he feared him.

"The mark of a man is the ability to separate your work life, from your personal life." Virgil's no longer warm monotone voice lectured his son "My father taught me that."

The older man swung his cupped hand towards his son and a curtain ripped off its hanging and wrapped Junior so tightly to his desk chair, that his eyes bulged and bile rose into his throat.

"You see it is a long-standing tradition within our family that the patriarch and leader of the business consumes a strong fruit to consolidate the company's power," Virgil explained, with a stab of two fingers a cushion blocked his son's mouth as he began to shout.

"It is in fact a part of our deal with the world government, wherein one, and only one, member of the company can hold a fruit. Mine is the Home Home Fruit, which allows me complete awareness within my home, and control of all my possessions within it."