Chapter 2: Civilization
Strolling through the pristine forest, he now had the time to think about his unexpected teleportation.
He didn't believe that it was simply his Archmage Essence giving him the ability to teleport.
If anything, the feeling was all too familiar to him from his time being tossed around in the void.
Still, he felt that the power was always meant to be a part of his Devil Fruit, which was strange because Blackbeard had never shown such power.
Could Blackbeard have just lacked the mastery over the fruit? Or did he simply not have the potential to harness the power of space?
He guessed it made enough sense. With the Darkness Fruit having the element of gravity, space would be the logical next step. Maybe it should be called the Void Fruit instead. Controlling the power of darkness sounded better, so he'd still stick with that.
Wanting to test a few things, he stopped to pick up a small rock. With his left hand, he formed a circle of darkness before using that same feeling of spatial manipulation, his mind locked onto a tree in the distance.
He immediately noticed a mirror image of the dark circle currently hovering above his left hand appear next to the targeted tree before he tossed the rock through, the light knocking sound heard shortly after.
While he knew it would be extremely useful in combat, anyone with similar reactions wouldn't be caught completely off guard since the destination becomes clearly marked.
Flickering through the forest, he got a better grasp on his teleportation, finding the maximum travel distance to be just short of his range of vision.
While not reaching the limits he planned to eventually achieve, as long as he wasn't in the New World, he felt the chances of someone being able to keep up with him were pretty slim.
Satisfied with his control over his new abilities, Khali eventually found a nice little area near a river to set up camp.
He spent the night next to a small campfire, meditating on an ability he remembered from the show that, in his opinion, was severely underutilized.
Life Return, essentially being self-biokinesis, was the ability Khali had his heart set on. He hoped to eventually reach the levels of the Psykers from Warhammer, but for now, his goal was simply to hide his wings.
While confident in his current power, being outed as a Lunarian without the backing of an Emperor would set the entire World Government against him. That was something that, even with his immense pride, he wouldn't claim to be able to handle for now.
Throughout the night, he learned to manipulate his hair, being the least consequential part of his body, he wasn't worried about anything going wrong.
As the sun began to rise over the horizon, Khali's proficiency in Life Return reached the point where he was willing to risk attempting to retract his wings.
Khali stood from his meditative state, spreading his majestic wings wide and wiggling them around to get a better feel for the new appendages before making the attempt.
Knowing that this world was somewhat wacky, he wasn't surprised when the large wings retracted into his body, inexplicably turning into a sort of physical energy that didn't take up space in his torso.
As Khali continued to retract and deploy his wings to get a better feel for the action, he realized that such a feat would normally be a noticeable drain on his stamina. Instead, his magical reactor easily picked up the slack, not even making a dent in its massive reserves.
Now that he wouldn't be sticking out like a sore thumb, Khali decided to get a move on and look for a way out of the forest.
After hours of wandering the wilderness, Khali finally found traces of human life as he looked over the canopy at the trails of smoke lining the horizon.
Finally out of the forest, he found himself on a small hill overlooking a simple port town.
It was honestly hard to understand the technology level of this world. While the town seemed like it wouldn't look out of place in the nineteen-forties, even having a few industrial factories near the docks, there were no vehicles aside from the occasional horse-drawn cart.
Without seeing a reason not to, he checked one last time that his wings and hovering bonfire were tucked away before strolling down the hill to the town's nearest entrance.
Luckily, he had spawned wearing clothes that wouldn't seem out of place: a white button-down shirt with two inconspicuous slits for his wings, and black trousers paired with matching loafers.
Making his way through the outskirts of the town, intending to reach the more populous area near the water, it became clear that he wouldn't be finding many law-abiding citizens, as he noticed a few rough-looking gentlemen eyeing him up like a fresh piece of meat.
A few discrepancies from the show immediately caught his eye. One was the Thompson machine guns strapped over a few of the men's shoulders. While he did notice flintlock pistols in the waistbands of the more shabbily dressed folk, it was clear that the level of firearms was higher than shown.
This made him think of an episode with a flashback he remembered that clearly showed a mobster from the North Blue firing a flintlock rifle fully auto. While this world was still pretty wacky, he guessed it wasn't to the point of guns magically creating ammo. Until he had further evidence, he'd assume that Oda wanted to maintain the aesthetics of the golden age of piracy for the show.
There was also the fact that from the few murmurs he'd heard and signs he'd seen, English was the language around here. Khali thought it somewhat conformed to logic. It made more sense for the world to speak English over Japanese, considering the rulers of the world resembled Englishmen more than they did Japanese.
"Into the alley, and no funny business," a gravelly voice commanded, interrupting Khali's thoughts while pointing a revolver and gesturing toward an out-of-sight alleyway.
This didn't surprise him at all. He'd noticed the other gangsters watching for the outcome and assumed they sent this guy to test the waters.
Shortly after raising his hands and walking out of sight with his captor, Khali strolled back out without a scratch, giving the waiting gangsters a wave and a knowing wink.
The beaten and unconscious man in the alley was forgotten as everyone went on with their business, while Khali flicked through his would-be robber's wallet, finding a few Berry notes and coins.
After that small incident, his walk toward the bustling port went without trouble, eventually finding a rundown bar and entering with the intent of gathering some information.
"You got money kid? I ain't running no charity," the bartender asked as he sat at the empty bar.
So it was obvious he wasn't an adult, huh? He could only guess at his exact age without a mirror. While he could estimate his height to be around five-foot-nine, in a world with men like Whitebeard standing six meters tall, age couldn't be determined by height alone.
"I'll have whatever meal's available, a glass of wine, and today's newspaper if you have it," Khali ordered, answering the original question by tossing a ten thousand Berry note to the man.
He figured the currency would be close to the Japanese Yen and the amount he gave would be more than enough for what he ordered.
As for ordering alcohol underage, he highly doubted this was an etablishment that cared about such things, and he didn't want to test the water quality in a place like this.
The man didn't respond, simply reaching behind and handing him a newspaper before heading back to the kitchen.
After a while, he enjoyed his meal of a dozen chicken wings and a baked potato while looking at the front page of the news.
World Economy New Paper: West Blue Edition - June, 1508
Now that he knew the timeline and location he was placed in, he already had an idea of where he'd go from here.
For the time being, he didn't have plans of going out on his own as a pirate captain. No, that sounded like too much work. He wanted to enjoy his new chance at life, and not be tied down in management.
As for forming a crew like Luffy and friends, simply slumming around wherever the winds took them? He knew he wouldn't be happy without the finer things life had to offer.
He also knew that money alone, without the right connections, wouldn't get him the luxury he desired, and he didn't want to deal with the hassle of running an organization for now. Maybe in the future, but not now.
But he also knew he wouldn't lower himself to being a goon for just anyone. There was honestly no one in this world he'd be willing to subordinate himself to.
So, the obvious choice was to find a group he could beat into submission to handle all the troublesome logistics.
And almost as if he had the luck of the Devil, he noticed the hurried footsteps and hushed whispers of his fellow patrons.
"Shit, we need to wrap it up. One of the big five just dropped anchor," one man grumbled to his group as they cleaned up the cards they'd been gambling with.
"Lad, you'd better clear out. You seem new around here, and the members of the big families don't mess around," the grizzled barkeep suggested.
He didn't answer the man. Instead, he continued leisurely gnawing on the few remaining wings he'd been enjoying, making the old man scoff at what he assumed to be a display of youthful defiance.
Khali wasn't retarded, so based on the context clues and his past life's memories he had a good idea of the sort of people that were about to show up.
He wasn't worried, not when he knew that, in the future, Capone would be able to dominate this sea only relying on the power of his castle Devil Fruit.
Later, as Khali remained unbothered, the flimsy front door burst open, nearly flying off its rusty hinges.
"Damn, this week's cargo was freaking heavy," the man swaggering into the establishment complained.
"Damn straight. But hey, at least we can finally hit the bottles, ain't that right, Bob?" another goon at the side said, nudging the now-named Bob.
"Oye, barkeep, get the liquor flowing, and don't let it stop," a third nameless goon ordered, making the man behind the bar start lining up clean glasses.
The goon named Bob smirked, seeing the kid still seated at the bar. 'Obviously, this boy don't know how things work around these parts,' Bob thought, all too willing to be an educator.
He didn't really care about the lad's disrespect; he just wanted to let off some steam. Knowing this port town was lacking any women to take care of his needs, putting a brat in his place was the next best thing.
Cracking his knuckles and putting on a menacing smirk, Bob planted a foot on the stool next to the seemingly unknowing kid before slamming a hand on the bar to get his attention.
A vein twitched on the side of his forehead in irritation after being ignored by the boy. His irritation grew further after turning his head and noticing a few of the lads chuckling at his failed intimidation.
"Kid, you must be new in town. That, or you got a serious set of balls on ya," he growled out before continuing his menacing monologue after seeing the kid still putting on a tough facade. "Ya see, this is Marchetti territory," he paused, dragging over the kid's bowl of mashed potatoes to emphasize his dominance. "And when we, the members of the Marchetti family, show up, we expect a certain amount of respect."
Bob smirked, seeing the kid finally glance in his direction. 'So you're finally starting to understand the current situation,' he thought, assuming his intimidation had worked.
"Don't worry too much though. All will be forgiven if you just get on your…" his yapping got cut off, feeling a firm grasp on his head.
He tried to turn around to find out who had the audacity but no matter how much he strained Bob couldn't move an inch.
Finally, out of the corner of his eye, Bob saw that the kid he'd just been berating with his arm reaching behind himself.
'Eh, when the fuck did he move,' Bob panicked, but before he could reach for a weapon or threaten the kid with his backing, he lost his vision and found something blocking his airway.
With a deadpan expression, Khali looked around the room at the currently shocked members of the Marchetti Family, the panicked flailings of one of the cannon fodder the only sound being made.
After the goon passed out, he pulled the man out of the potatoes before he died and wiped the grease off his fingers on the slumped-over goon's shirt, then let the sorry bloke crumble to the floor.
Standing from his seat, Khali glanced at the still-stunned gang. "Well, shall we get this party started?" he asked, finally breaking the group out of their stupor.
"Fucker, do you know who you're messing with?" a man at the front shouted, charging forward with a sloppy haymaker.
He stepped past the attack that might as well have been in slow motion and grabbed the man's face.
Exerting a small amount of strength that came along with his Lunarian physique, he used the man like a bat, knocking down the other pirates starting to surround him.
Luckily for the human bat, this was the world of One Piece; otherwise, such a move would have ended with a broken neck. Instead, the man was simply dazed and disheveled.
As he continued the beatdown, a devilish smile on his face and a slightly manic laugh escaping his lips, he noticed a few of the more intelligent goons fleeing from the bar in terror.
After having his fun time, Khali looked down at the pile of beaten men, a few soaking in their own piss, he couldn't help but think that he might have gone a tad too far.
"Lady Renza. Lady Renza, please help. There's trouble," Khali could hear the panicked whining coming from down the street with his enhanced hearing.
Again he looked at the mostly unconscious goons thinking that his little fun might have sent his plans to shit.
He would have preferred using these guys to make it to the big boss of the family, but after getting carried away, unless he came up with something fast, this would probably end up as a death match.
"Marcus, relax. Just lead the way and I'll handle it," he heard the attractive voice answering the pleas for help, giving him an idea that just might work.
Everything just went easier when you were attractive, and even without a mirror, he figured that his Lunarian genes came with expected masculine beauty. Maybe he could rely on his otherworldly rizz to salvage the situation.
Shortly after deciding to try out the route of charm before resorting to sheer violence to get his way, the bar's front door opened, and a mature beauty in a chic tailored suit entered the room.
She radiated a cool elegance with her olive skin, silky brown hair, striking hazel eyes, and an outrageous figure. It was honestly impressive that her tight business suit wasn't bursting at the seams.
Seeing her initial look of interest toward him turn into a frown as she looked at her fallen companions, Khali put on the sexiest and most charming smile he could muster, wondering if this scheme would work.