AN: @Jibberflex: MC wants to spread his wings. In his mind, he's strong enough to at least get off this island. Don't worry, he will have his time to train.

Chapter Four: Eyes of a Predator

Draven's boots thudded against the wooden dock as he stepped off the boat, the weight of his three bags of treasure making him stumble slightly. He cursed under his breath. The bags were heavy, and the chest containing the Devil Fruit dug into his back with every step. It wasn't the weight that bothered him—it was the awkwardness of carrying so much stolen wealth with no clear destination. He didn't have a base, a crew, or even a safe place to stash it all.

He couldn't very well leave it out in the open. The moment he landed on Conomi Islands, he'd felt eyes on him—hungry eyes, watching his every move. They could smell the treasure on him like sharks to blood.

But he had no choice. With no better option, Draven hoisted the bags over his shoulders and marched into the village, grumbling to himself. This better be worth it.

As he made his way down the cobbled path leading from the docks, he barely paid attention to the people peeking at him from behind closed doors or the occasional villager who scurried out of his way. Their eyes darted from his bags of gold to the chest strapped to his back, their expressions a mix of fear and envy. But none dared approach. They knew better than to cross someone so brazenly carrying such wealth.

Draven didn't care. His mind was already on his next move. Arlong. The name echoed in his head, a symbol of the challenge that awaited him. He was eager to test his strength against the fish-man, but first, he needed a place to stash his loot and rest up.

Kaela's POV

As soon as Draven disappeared from sight, Kaela's composed facade slipped. Her lips tightened, and her gaze hardened with tension. She reached inside her coat with practiced precision, pulling out a small Den Den Mushi she hadn't used in years.

The snail blinked slowly, coming to life as she dialed an old contact from her Marine days. It wasn't a call she ever expected to make again, but the boy—Draven—had forced her hand.

The line connected. "Kaela? Haven't heard from you in a long time," came the gruff voice of a familiar Marine officer.

"There's something you need to be aware of," Kaela said, her voice carefully measured. "A boy. His name is Draven. I dropped him off on Conomi Island, but I have no doubt he'll cause havoc across all of East Blue."

The officer scoffed slightly. "A boy causing havoc? Is that really what this is about?"

Kaela's grip tightened around the receiver. "This isn't a child we're dealing with. He's… different. I've watched him fight—he kills without hesitation, without remorse. He's dangerous."

The officer hesitated, the tone on the other end of the line growing more serious. "You're sure about this?"

Kaela nodded, though she kept certain truths to herself, locked behind a promise. "He's not just strong; he's driven. The boy trained by himself for years in a jungle… that's not normal. You'll want to keep an eye on him. Before he becomes something you can't control."

There was a long silence on the other end. "We'll monitor the situation. If what you're saying is true, we can't let it get out of hand."

"Do that," Kaela said, her voice calm, though her mind raced. She closed the Den Den Mushi, letting out a quiet breath as the tension settled over her once more.

She had done what she could, walking the line without breaking the vow she had made so long ago. But a part of her wondered if it would be enough. Draven was dangerous, and the Marines needed to be prepared. Whether they listened or not—well, only time would tell.

Draven's POV

The village was eerily quiet as Draven strolled through it, his treasure clinking in his bags with each step. The few people he passed gave him wary looks, whispering among themselves. The air was heavy with tension, like a storm brewing on the horizon.

Eventually, he found himself in front of a small inn. The wooden sign above the door creaked in the wind, and the building looked as though it hadn't seen proper care in years. It was perfect.

Draven pushed open the door, stepping inside with his bags slung over his shoulder. The innkeeper, a stout man with a nervous twitch, looked up from behind the counter. His eyes immediately went to the bags of treasure, widening with surprise.

"You… you shouldn't be here," the innkeeper stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "The fish-men—Arlong and his crew—they control this island. It's not safe for outsiders."

Draven barely glanced at him, tossing a heavy pouch of beri onto the counter. The coins spilled out, glittering in the dim light of the inn.

"I'm not an outsider," Draven said coldly, his eyes boring into the innkeeper. "I'm your new guest. I'll be staying for a month."

The innkeeper swallowed hard, glancing from the money to Draven's cold, unwavering gaze. He knew better than to argue.

"A room, yes… of course," he said, fumbling for a key. "But… please… leave before they notice you."

Draven ignored the warning, taking the key and heading up to his room. He was well aware of the danger that lingered on the island. But that was exactly why he was here.

The next few days passed uneventfully, though Draven spent most of his time wandering the village, keeping to himself. He studied the people, their routines, the way they flinched at every shadow, every unfamiliar sound. It was clear the villagers lived in constant fear of Arlong and his crew.

Draven didn't care.

But as he explored the village, he eventually spotted something—or rather, someone—who made him pause.

Her.

Nojiko.

Draven's eyes followed her as she moved through the market, her blue hair unmistakable. She was beautiful, more beautiful than he had imagined from the stories and memories he carried with him. Tall, with a confident stride and a warmth in her eyes that stood in stark contrast to the fear that clung to the other villagers.

His gaze lingered on her, tracing the curves of her body with an appreciative eye. She was older than Nami, her maturity evident in the way her hips swayed with each step, the fullness of her figure captivating his attention. There was strength in her, hidden beneath the soft lines of her body, a quiet sensuality that drew his eye to the way her clothes hugged her in all the right places. Despite the oppression around her, she carried herself with a confidence that made her all the more enticing.

So that's Nojiko, he thought to himself, a smirk curling his lips.

He could feel his blood stirring, the animalistic part of him that had been honed through years of training responding to her presence. He wasn't just interested in her because of who she was—Nami's sister. No, there was something about Nojiko herself that intrigued him. She had a fire in her, that she didn't even bother trying to hide.

Draven's thoughts wandered. What would it take to win her over? What would it take to bring Nojiko—and later, Nami—onto his side? He wasn't naive enough to think they'd follow him willingly without some persuasion, but that challenge only made it more appealing. The key wasn't in breaking them; it was in making them want to be a part of what he was building.

The smile on his face widened as he followed her from a distance, his mind already working on how to make his next move.

Nojiko's POV

The sun was high above Cocoyashi Village, its warmth spilling over the quiet streets. Nojiko adjusted the basket in her arms, glancing at the fruit and vegetables she had gathered for the month. It wasn't much, but it would do. As she moved from stall to stall, the villagers greeted her with warm smiles. She returned each one, but behind her calm, friendly exterior, there was a heaviness that never left.

How long will Nami be gone this time? she thought, her chest tightening with worry. Nami always managed to come back safely, but the weight of it all was starting to gnaw at her. Every time Nami left to gather more money for Arlong's tribute, Nojiko's heart ached with guilt.

She wished she could do more. She wished she could take matters into her own hands instead of relying on her little sister to bear the burden. The resentment towards herself had been growing over the years, festering in the quiet moments when she allowed herself to reflect. She was too weak. Too weak to stop Arlong. Too weak to save Bellemere.

Too weak to protect Nami.

Nojiko clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palm, but she kept her expression light as she continued her rounds. The villagers looked up to her as a source of strength, even though she felt anything but. She had to keep smiling for them, even if every day felt like she was carrying the weight of a sinking ship on her back.

As she made her way toward the last stall, her thoughts drifted again to Nami. How much longer will she have to endure this? How much longer until we can be free? The questions were endless, and the answers always felt just out of reach.

A sudden tap on her shoulder broke through her thoughts.

Startled, she turned to face the source, her breath catching slightly when she found herself staring at a boy. He looked young, maybe a few years younger than her, but his appearance was anything but ordinary. Despite his youthful face, he stood taller than her, his body lean and muscular in all the right places. There was an untamable, wild energy that seemed to radiate from him, as if the wilderness itself had shaped him into something primal.

There was something dangerous about him, an aura that made her feel as though she was standing too close to a wild animal, unpredictable and fierce. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, and oddly, it tickled something deep inside her. A quiet part of her, buried beneath years of fear and hopelessness, felt drawn to this untamed energy. A dangerous interest in the "bad boy" type, something she had never allowed herself to explore.

She noticed the small chest tucked under his arm, but before she could make more observations, the boy spoke, his voice smooth and direct.

"I noticed your blue hair," he said, his eyes not quite leaving hers, as if assessing her reaction. "It's interesting. Different from what I've seen around here. Mind if I take you out to eat?"

Nojiko blinked, surprised by the sudden proposition. She hesitated for a moment, her mind scrambling to catch up. Who was this boy? Why was he talking to her? She felt the weight of his gaze and, for a moment, considered brushing him off. She wasn't in the mood for conversation, let alone with a stranger.

But then again… she was hungry. And something about him intrigued her.

Why not? she thought. Maybe it would take her mind off things for a while. She could use a distraction.

"Sure," she said, giving a slight nod. "I could use a break."

As they walked toward a small food stall nearby, the conversation flowed with an easy rhythm. He asked her questions—simple ones at first. Where she was from, what life was like on the island. He kept his answers vague, but there was a strange honesty to them, as if he was telling the truth without telling her everything. She didn't press him for details. Everyone had their secrets.

They found a spot to sit, and Nojiko ordered something simple. The air was light between them, the conversation still innocuous as they waited for their food. But as they ate, the boy's tone shifted.

"So," he said casually, picking at his food, "I've heard about this little fish problem you have here."

Nojiko froze, her grip tightening on her fork. Her smile wavered for the first time since they sat down. She didn't like talking about it—about Arlong and his crew. The pain, the fear, the hopelessness—it all came rushing back whenever someone brought it up.

But the boy spoke about it so nonchalantly, as if the tyranny of the fish-men was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His careless attitude almost made her lower her guard.

"How long have they been here?" he continued, his voice calm, as though they were discussing the weather. "Years, right?"

Nojiko nodded stiffly, her appetite suddenly gone. "Two years."

"And no one's tried to get rid of them?"

She gave a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. "People tried. They died."

The boy raised an eyebrow, still unnervingly calm. He leaned back slightly, as if thinking, before he turned his gaze back to her. His eyes were sharper now, focused.

"What would you give," he said slowly, his voice lowering, "to have your little fish problem go away?"

The words hit her like a punch to the gut.

Nojiko's heart raced, her eyes widening in shock as she stared at him. Was he serious? Her mind scrambled for a response, a hundred different emotions surging through her all at once. Anger, disbelief, hope—was this boy truly suggesting what she thought he was?

"You… You can't be serious," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

But there was something in his eyes. Something dark. Something unwavering. And for a brief, dangerous moment, she felt a flicker of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, this boy could be the answer to her prayers.