Chapter 7

[William Pew]

He gripped the two balls of cloth he held in his hands, a frown on his face as he strained his ears.

He'd managed to make some throwing balls out of some discarded scraps of cloth that Wally had assured him weren't useful for much, and wrapped them around metal objects to add some weight to them. The result was… rough, but they would serve their purpose well enough. That was what mattered, ultimately.

He heard the dull sound of steps, the occasional creaking of wood and the rustling of clothes. That wasn't difficult, the hard part was pinpointing the exact locations. That was what they were there to do though.

His arm snapped to the side, throwing one of the balls.

"Too right, Boss," Mac told him, making him nod stiffly. They had devised a system to give short calls to let William know how well his throws went towards them, since he couldn't really see the results. Too right, too left, right, left, little right, little left, perfect, and the same went for high or low, obviously.

So far, he hadn't hit a single perfect, but he was happy with the few littles he'd gotten. He threw the other ball, getting a "Right!" from Loud. Then he waited, tense and ready. He heard the slight sound of clothes, sharp and short. Mac had thrown the ball back at William.

He tried to catch it, but it hit the side of his hand instead, falling to the ground with a dull sound. He let out air through his nose in exasperation, but that was what training was for. He just needed to keep going at it until he got better. There was no other way. He refused to rely on others to keep himself alive.

Especially because he couldn't trust most of the crew. Hell, the only one that he trusted was Antonio and that was because the mink had saved him a bunch of times and supported him many others too. If he couldn't trust him, then there was nobody to trust at all and he had to draw a line somewhere for his own sanity.

Loud and Mac were good. William liked them. The problem was that they weren't… reliable. He didn't want to insult their intelligence, especially Mac's, but he didn't trust that they wouldn't be fooled into causing problems, do something by mistake or something of that sort. He trusted that they were good, but he didn't trust them not to mess up unknowingly.

The rest of the crew was even more of a wild card, between ex-pirates with dubious morals and terrified civilians. He didn't trust them not to stab him in the back or leave him to his fate if things got complicated. Hell, he knew, very well, that he was only as safe as he was because he was the "captain". He was the brains of the group, because that was all he could be, blind as he was.

He was useless otherwise.

William knew, then, that if he failed, either with a small mistake or a disastrous one, there'd be a non-zero chance that someone would just shoot him. After all, if he couldn't do his one job right, then he was a liability. Liabilities didn't last long in the Grand Line, whether it be Paradise or New World.

Thus, his training.

He'd done decently well during their escape with a pistol, but he needed to do better. Well, for a blind man, was terrible by normal standards. And normal standards were abysmal by Grand Line standards. Things looked even worse from there, really.

Fumbling with the ball Loud had thrown back at him, William got back to work. Two throws, two catches, rinse and repeat. He didn't even have to do all that much although he did take a few steps here and there to complicate matters for himself. Most of the work was done by Mac and Loud, who would move in between throws so that William could hear where they were and also so he couldn't memorize their position either.

Simple, but effective, or so he hoped.

It wasn't like he could train with actual pistols, after all. That'd be a waste of resources that simply weren't worth it. He might have been a decent shot when he could see, but by then there was no point. He was more likely to hit someone by accident or break something than he was to actually make progress.

'One step at a time,' he told himself, as he continued with the training exercise. Maybe one day he'd be able to add shooting next to planning in the list of things he brought to the table. It'd be difficult and it'd taken a long time, but he needed to do something. Otherwise, he'd remain cornered like he was and he hated it. It felt like he had never left that cell, with an uncertain but horrible future ahead of him. He needed to try and improve his situation somehow.

Maybe then he'd feel less like he was walking on a string.

And maybe, just maybe, he could get strong enough to put two bullets in Akainu's own eyes and the rest of the fucking dogs, even if it likely wouldn't do anything, just like the rest of the shots he'd taken on the monster of a man. Some would call him crazy, but he wanted revenge. Revenge on the crazy fuckers that followed unhinged orders like they were actual laws instead of blatant abuse of power. Revenge on the crazy fuckers that gave those orders.

The Marines. The World Government.

William wanted to put a bullet in every single one of them. He knew he couldn't. He probably couldn't fight a Grand Line grunt, if he were honest. However, he could train, he could get better, and maybe he'd be able to be a nuisance, a thorn in their side. He could make their lives at least a little harder, and that'd be better than nothing.

He thought that might be good enough for him, really.

Ultimately, however, he could only train so much, unfortunately. There were things to go over and Mac and Loud had better things to do with their time than help his blind ass. Sure, they didn't really have a problem helping, admittedly. Hell, Loud seemed happy to do whatever he asked of him, but still. The ship needed hands to keep in course, too big to be handled by a person or two for long.

"I think that's enough for now. Thank you, Loud, Mac," he said, taking a deep breath in and pushing his hair up and to the side, away from his face even if he couldn't see. The sweat in it helped it remain that way too. "Antonio and Stansen might need a hand with the ship though, but if not, take a break. You deserve it."

"No problem, Boss! I'll go with Kitty Boss!" Loud replied, happy as a kid with candy before the steps that reinforced his name's fitting nature reached William's ears. Soon, he was far enough that the sound was fainter, if not gone.

"It's really no problem, Boss," Mac added for his part, still standing where he'd been. William wished they'd stop calling him that. It made him sound like a captain, like he was leading, like he was in charge. He wasn't. He gave orders, but he wasn't in charge of anything. He lived because they thought he was useful. That was all there was to it and it was annoying that they called him that. He knew they weren't doing it on purpose, at least not most of them, but it felt like he was being mocked. "Anything you need, just say the word."

"Thank you, Mac. I appreciate it," William replied with a nod. As he heard the thud of the man's boots while he moved away, he wondered if maybe he'd had a bigger impact on the man than he'd thought, after his brother died. The man seemed to genuinely care, if what he said and the tone of his voice were anything to go by. And yet, all William could think was that he'd gotten Mic killed and the man should hate him.

He sighed.

'Being blind is, somehow, the least of my problems,' he thought, dragging a hand over his face.

[}-o-{]

[Stansen]

"Don't let it go back underwater!" exclaimed Antonio as he swung his sword. A slash of sheer pressurized air was cast through the edge of the sword and projected forward at high speed. A high groan of pain escaped the otter-like Sea King as the attack dug deep into its furred hide. Red blood gushed out of the wound and stained the pure blue sea with a red and pink hue. Just as Antonio predicted, the creature, probably regretting having picked a fight with this particular ship, tried to dive down under the surface and disengage.

'My turn, then.'

Stansen's muscles bulged as he swung the chain he held in his hands forward. He took special care not to move around with too much force. While the ship was big enough to support his weight and even let him walk with at least a little bit of freedom, it was certainly not good enough to allow the strong and sharp movements of battle.

It was the main reason he wasn't part of the attack force right now, lest he push the ship too far and they found themselves sinking deep into the waters below. Instead, he left the job to the small feline co-captain Mink and some of the other escaped captains to man the cannons and disorient the beast. They should be more than enough anyway.

Back to the fight though, the anchor at the other end of the chain struck true, right into the creature's head as it was just about to dive down. A screech escaped the creature as it recoiled from the shock, swaying dizzily. Not the most conventional of methods to hunt Sea Kings, to be honest, but it was effective, so that didn't really matter.

Most of the time one would prefer to use special piercing harpoons before tying the chain to a section of the ship and around the creature's neck, thus stopping it from sinking down. From there on out, it would just be like regular fishing… Just on a bigger scale. Protect the vessel from an irate Sea King, wait for it to tire itself down, and then reel it up for the kill.

That was how hunting these creatures tended to go. Of course, that was without considering the possibility of the crew having someone strong enough to deal with the beasts themselves. However, that was not something that you could always count on having at hand. Not in Paradise, at the very least.

The problem, however, was that this wasn't a hunting vessel. It was just a noble's transport. They didn't have the toughness or weaponry to hunt Sea Kings, only drive them away. Hence why they had to improvise a little bit. Not that it was too much work either way, the creature was just about as big as the Carrack itself, which would put it around the average size of its species in these waters.

"Good shot, Señor Stansen!" Antonio called out as he delivered a few smaller but more precise slashes towards the creature's webbed hands. "Take that, you foul creature! You shall rue the day on which you decided that a ship under my protection could have become your snack. For I am Antonio, a proud Mink M-!"

As it was becoming a habit, the feline's speech was cut short by the sound of cannons firing. A shame, truly. Stansen thought the allegedly lion mink was funny and so were his tirades. Regardless, the Sea King let out a screech now that it found itself not only with torn hands but also a bloody smoking mess where one of its eyes used to be.

"You are pretty good with that thing, huh?" Stansen heard Byron say to Lacuba who rushed to recharge the contraption with another iron ball. The blond man, lounged around sprawled across the railing as he made idle conversation with the tongueless sweating captain, and Valtteri, the one that used a washed-down version of Soru. Well, it would be more correct to say that he was just talking with their newly appointed cannoneer, given how Valtteri only limited himself to glare at Antonio and his Rankyaku-like slashes in poorly concealed envy.

Stansen let out a sigh.

As if their rag-tag group didn't have enough friction already…

The giant shook his head and centered back in the fight. He had already finished reeling the anchor – A spare one, that is. – and prepared to throw it again, in case the thing hadn't gotten the memo. In the end, it wasn't necessary. Another single clean slice through the creature's neck cut deep enough to reach something important given the way blood started to pour out like a fountain. The otter Sea King died in a matter of seconds.

With a well-placed throw, he managed to tangle his anchor around one of the creature's limbs and reel it close to the ship. He would honestly appreciate someone helping him with this. He knew that most of this was for him to have something to eat without outright destroying the Carrack's stock of food in a day or two, but that didn't mean he enjoyed reeling the thing all on his own. It wasn't like the rest of the crew wouldn't get at the very least a bit of the meat too.

Alas, everyone seemed to think that he was enough for the job. Byron and Lacuba struck up a conversation as the blond man pointed something out and the tongueless captain nodded his head in understanding. Valtteri, for his part, was too busy looking from his knives to the carcass of the dead Sea King. He could hear the door that led to the Carrack's aftercastle as the non-combatants started to pour out now that the sounds of fighting had dwindled down. As for Antonio…

"It was only bad luck for you, bestia…" the self-proclaimed lion mink said, posing on top of the beast's bulging belly. Sword raised high and face cast down. His free hand gripping the edge of the disproportionately big hat he had gotten from somewhere before they departed. "Indeed, an ill turn of fate, for you have found yourself facing the incredible and feared poder of mine blade." He could have sworn he heard a squeal from the dancer girl from the peanut gallery who just looked with rolling eyes. Antonio changed positions, his boots that he was sure were meant for a big human somehow clacked as he did some elaborate twirl in place, almost as if he was dancing dramatically. "Your destiny was sealed the moment we crossed blades." The thing didn't have a blade though. Hell, it didn't even have proper claws. "While your skills might have been as fearsome as your appearance, it was still far outmatched by the training provided to me as a gallant and mig-"

"YOU ARE SO COOL, KITTY-BOSS!"

"Antonio, hurry up already. The fire is ready to start cooking and we need to cut the whole thing up," someone added after Loud interrupted. A shame, he wanted to know how the story went.

Oh well, maybe some other time.

It wasn't like Antonio didn't positively love the sound of his own voice anyway.

[}-o-{]

[Byron]

He thanked whatever higher being had placed a guitar in the Carrack.

He was a musician as much as he was a pirate and a captain, after all. If there was one thing Byron didn't think he could live without, that was music. So, when they found that and their co-captain, Antonio, proved to be fairly good with the instrument, he was thrilled.

There they were now, with the cat – A self-proclaimed lion, but who believed him anyway? – mink playing and him singing. The rest of the crew seemed to either be having a good time or at least a peaceful one. Considering where they all came from, Byron took that as a compliment to Antonio's and his own skills. Even William, who seemed to wear a scowl on his face permanently, seemed relaxed as they continued eating.

The only exception was Karen, the maid, who Byron couldn't have cared less if he tried. She was a headache to be around at the best of times, what with her hatred of all things pirate and especially William and Antonio. For whatever reason, she seemed to have it out for the two of them even though they weren't quite as criminally guilty as the pirate captains like Byron himself.

Fortunately for them all, the maid had decided to eat inside by herself.

That suited Byron just fine because he was sure the mood would have been worse otherwise. As it was, he enjoyed the good cheer that a nice meal, and even better music brought. It was almost like old times, really. If he closed his eyes while singing, he could almost picture his old crew signing along instead of Antonio and Loud, occasionally being joined by someone else.

He could almost picture that everything was fine. He hadn't spent all that time in a cell, rotting. His crew hadn't been attacked by the spider bastard. They were alive and together and sailing, with good music and having a great time. They were traveling together, having adventures, and saying that they'd find the One Piece and he'd be King of the Pirates like they meant it.

And then, when he was almost convinced that the picture was real…

That's when Byron would blink and he'd see the ragtag group of ex-slaves that were his crew now. He'd remember all that had happened and that it was all real. He'd lost everything and, now, he was a dead man who had somehow escaped death with an empty life that had no meaning other than keeping itself going. Byron couldn't just give up though, because his crew… his ex-crew deserved better than that.

So, he looked around at his new crew, even if it hurt to think that. He looked at the civilians, nervous and not at random intervals. He looked at his fellow pirates, who seemed right at ease in their new situation. He guessed that was because it more or less was if one took away whatever tragedy had landed them in those cells and their stay there. He looked at Antonio, playing and dancing and being generally overdramatic as usual. He looked at William, who somehow managed to pull off being normal despite his blindness.

'This is my crew now,' Byron thought, wondering when it'd stop hurting to think that.

"Boss can see!"

"I can't see, Loud," William said flatly. At the start of things, he'd have done so with annoyance, or bitterness. Now, it was clear that Loud just… was a few members short of a full crew, so nobody really bothered all that much unless he pushed a button… or the person was named Karen. "I'm just good at guessing," their captain added, continuing to eat. He did so slowly, but he managed to almost look normal if one ignored that.

Byron could respect that, if nothing else. The man tried to do everything himself and he managed, which was more surprising. If it weren't for that and for the fact that he seemed smart, he didn't know if he'd have been ok with having him as a Captain. The stars knew Byron had learned by then that it was an important role and that not everyone could fill it.

Not that he had any desire for it, no. It was precisely because he knew that it was important and demanding that he'd rather not. He'd already gotten a crew killed. Maybe William would too, but Byron would rather not do the same thing twice. Once was enough and that failure would haunt his every waking moment as it was. The blind man could keep the captaincy, as far as he was concerned.

"You are very good with that, Mr. Flags," Pascia said and Byron had to hold back a laugh at the obvious awe in the woman's voice. It was a secret about as well hidden as Karen's… Karenness that the dancer was… very fond of the mink. Exactly how, nobody was sure and Byron didn't think he wanted to know.

"Thank you, Señorita!" the guitarist answered with a flick of his hat in her direction, clearly pleased with her words. "Why, I was known for my talents back home. The best, most glorious and acclaimed-"

"You've been playing that song for the last fifteen minutes," William pointed out, his lips quirking up and Byron barked a laugh with a few others. It was no secret that they had started purposely interrupting the mink. It was all too easy and funny, really. "You sure it's not just the one song that you know how to play well?"

"Excuse you, Caballero?!" the cat mink exclaimed, scandalized with Pascia reacting much the same by his side. "I'll show you then!" he shouted, starting to play a new song. Fortunately, one Byron knew. "Why I have never, in all my years of playing, heard such preposterous claims! My teacher, the best-"

Byron had enough then, starting to sing and interrupting the man once more. Soon, some others in the crew joined. Even Rufus, the skittery thing that he was, did so at one point. He likely forgot that he was in the company of pirates, somehow, because he always seemed ready to jump at even his own shadow, let alone criminals like some of them. Byron was happy to imagine that it was because of how good the music was.

People kept cooking for Stansen since there wasn't enough space to cook for Giant properly, so it took time for them to prepare every bite, more or less. Valtteri was sticking close to Byron with Lacuba. The civilians were more or less gathering in a pile, even if they sometimes would mingle with the rest of them, what with Pascia keeping the group "open" to interact with Antonio. William was sitting somewhat in between Mac and Loud, although it was difficult to tell if he'd chosen that spot for some reason or if he'd just ended up there. Byron thought it was equally as possible that the other two had taken the spots to the man's sides. Antonio, for his part, moved a lot, unable to keep himself from dancing all over the place as he played.

Byron understood that, if nothing else. The ambiance wasn't the best ever, but it was certainly great for people like them. They were all very much not fine. So, that party of sorts might as well have been the best thing ever for the lot of them. After what they all had been through, it might as well be something worthy of the Celestial Dragons.

Byron was happy to be part of such a spectacle. Maybe for his previous self, it would have been a sad excuse of one, but for him right then and there, it was probably his best performance. This was what he'd lived for. Music, parties, sailing, and cheer, that's what he'd set out to experience and enjoy.

That was what his previous crew had set out to experience and enjoy.

Maybe they weren't around anymore, but Byron could try to keep that flame going, if only by himself. He could try to continue their lives' goals. He'd play, sing, and cheer. He'd live and explore and enjoy and have fun. Just like he had with them, he'd be happy and sail the seas to be even more so.

That was for the future, however.

As it was, at that moment, he was content to feel a semblance of that. A diminutive part of that which they had done in the past with his previous crew and just as small a part of what he'd do with his new one. Maybe it'd take time, but it could be done.

If nothing else, he wanted to believe that.

[} Chapter End {]

Adrian: The crew continues to be just great, amirite? They are just so united and friendly. The Strawhats should learn from this bunch.

Arc: At the very least some of them are having a good time. Give Antonio a guitar or a sword and he will be as happy as he can be.

Adrian: And everyone else will have a good time interrupting him, I guess. So everyone's happy… Except Karen, but who cares about her? Anyway, we hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.

Random Adrian Question: Any character that you are liking so far? Besides William and Antonio, that is… unless you don't like the MCs… or the side characters, in which case just ignore me.

Discord Link: discord .gg/UTDransjJZ