Waves rocked the boat, Valentine's hammock started to swing. He was thankful that Red had spoken to the captain and secured them the hammocks. Other passengers huddled further above deck like livestock. A four hour boat ride was ahead of them, and Valentine intended to sleep through as much as he could, though the rocking made it difficult.
When he'd first woken up, he was already in the hammock with Red waiting patiently nearby.
"Sorry," He had explained, "I didn't mean to knock you out. Some people don't have the constitution for Soru. We made it on board though, didn't we?"
At the time, the comfortable quarters had calmed Valentine enough for him to resist the urge to wallop Red upside the head.
"Where do we go once we land, Red?" Valentine asked.
"I told you, friends in the city. We'll be safe there."
Valentine chewed his lip. Redwin never seemed to answer questions in full. "Who are these friends? How can we trust them?" said Valentine.
"Perhaps I make a hobby of saving helpless strangers from Marines." Redwin said.
"Perhaps." Valentine rolled Redwin's retort around in his brain, trying to break apart their meaning. Eventually, he gathered a bullet of suspicion and fired at him. "Strange hobby, for a former marine."
"I've never been a marine. Make no mistake of it." Redwin responded firmly. "I'm here to protect you, Valentine. But accuse me like that again, and you'll get a black eye. Understand?"
Valentine only frowned, the threats barely registering. He had been confident in his deduction that Red was a former marine. He had the battle skills of a marine, flashed a small token-something like a badge-to gain hammocks on the boat, and he even knew Soru. Valentine had overheard the word during his time with Niramor.
Why anyone, marine or otherwise, would appear without warning with the mission to keep him alive was beyond Valentine.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when the boat abruptly shook. Stomping came from above deck, sending trails of dust drifting from the ceiling. Muffled shouting and noises of conflict leaking through the planks.
"We're being boarded, aren't we?" Valentine whispered.
"Yeah, likely…" Red whispered back, capping it with a sigh.
"And we both have bounties." Valentine said. Muscle memory brought his palm to his knife.
What could they do now? His mind raced, drawing up different plans. The only entrance or exit was a pair of hatches in the ceiling, both leading to topdeck. Climbing the ladders and leaving via the hatches wasn't an option, it was a death was much more comfortable with the safe strategy of hiding here and making as little noise as possible, and waiting for the pirates to leave.
"Let's hide," Valentine insisted. "maybe can fit in these trunks."
"No. I'm not hiding." Red said.
"What? Why not?"
"I'd rather they leave, but if they don't I trust my chances against a few pirates more than the odds of them passing me over, like a game of Hide and Seek. Don't worry, we can take 'em."
"Speak for yourself-"
The hatch flew open. Red's hand moved immediately, as if tied to the hatch, and flung a small knife. An ugly face appeared in the opening, only for the knife to sink into his nose.
"Stay down here!" Red ordered, "Don't come up unless you hear me yell your name!" He leapt onto the ladder, scaling it with practiced skill. He disappeared above deck and closed the hatch behind him. A few moments later, Valentine heard something heavy drop into the ocean.
The ceiling was only a few feet above Valentine's hammock, close enough to reach. He went about carefully standing up on the wobbling hammock and pressed his ear to the dusty wood.
"-see if he's on board. If he's not, you all can go on our way. If he is, and you don't tell us, the Cobra Pirates will blast a hole in your ship and leave you here to sink !" The voice spoke with confidence, a captain. Pirate likely-he didn't talk like a marine, and Valentine didn't know who else would board a passenger ship. They were looking for someone-who was he kidding, they were likely looking for them . They were the Top Two Most Eligible Bounties in the area, and avoiding it thus far was a stroke of luck in of itself.
He checked his surroundings; stacks of hammocks, crates and barrels piled against the walls-nothing big enough for him to hide in, and no way out other than the ladders. More frantic footsteps hurried his thoughts. Valentine grabbed a spool of wire from an open crate and pressed himself against the back wall, so any descender would have their back to him.
The door flapped open, and a figure slid down the ladder. He tightened the wire and leapt.
"It's me, Red." Valentine came to a teetering stop. He still gripped the wire tightly, only letting go when Red pushed it away. "Now, what were you gonna do with that?"
"Be glad you stopped me." Valentine tossed the wire aside. "What did you see up there?"
"A small pirate crew on a big boat, all bandaged up and ragged. Must have had a run in with the local Marine base. They are asking all the passengers about us, saying they'll leave once they find Redwin and Valentine. Eventually, they'll find us." Red paused to tie the hatches shut. "Any bright ideas?"
"One, in fact." Valentine walked over to the room's porthole and opened it. The Cobra Pirate Ship's hull stood only a few feet away, another porthole within reach. "Can you buy me some time?"
Valentine had skipped enough meals that when he sucked in, he could barely fit through the porthole on the Cobra Pirate's ship. After he his mid section was through, he had to push against the hull from the inside to pull the rest of his body through. He landed in a pile, hoping he didn't make too much noise.
The gun deck seemed empty, thankfully. Shining black cannons stood ready along the walls with polished metal balls sitting in neat piles, ready for use.
Valentine wasted no time dragging the cannons out of their place and tilting them down, pointing into the floorboards. His fingers worked frantically, tying all the fuses into a long braid running the length of the ship. Valentine relieved the ship of a lamp, and poured its oil over his handiwork. The cannonballs were almost too heavy for him to lift as he loaded them one by one.
"Is someone down here?" Boots pounded on wooden stairs as a pirate stomped down. "Wish it wasn't so bloody dark…" The pirate squinted, scanning the ship for movement. He took a swig of his rum bottle and wiped sweat with his bandana. He turned to leave, when he saw the discarded lamp. One step towards it, and a sharp impact caved in his skull. He slunk to the ground, as if made of paper. Valentine dropped a bloody cannonball, letting it roll away while he dragged the pirate out of sight. There wasn't much place to hide him, but it wouldn't matter soon. He could hear Red engage the pirates above deck, he had to hurry.
With great difficulty, Valentine loaded the final cannon. Unlike Red, Valentine never managed to build much muscle mass. With tired, shaking hands, he sparked a flame on his lighter, then let it fall out of his hand. Moving with new haste, Valentine squirmed through the pirate's porthole and back into the passenger ship. For once, he was grateful he was so thin.
On the other side, he landed more gracefully. Valentine wasted no time in climbing up the ladder, untying the knot, and lifting the panel just enough to peek onto the deck. Most everyone was watching the commotion Red was causing on the pirate ship. Valentine scanned the deck, but couldn't see a single pirate. With a sigh of relief, he pulled himself above deck and waited for the show.
Red was doing well, all things considered.
He stood on the deck of the pirate ship, a stinking mess that was barely floating, and engaged the majority of their crew so Valentine could do his job below deck.
Pirates were nothing new for him, and his initial assumption that the crew lacked a devil fruit user proved correct. Blades and pistols were much preferred to devil fruits. He used the crew's disorganization to his advantage, slipping through the chaos to deny them a proper shot. He amplified the disorder whenever possible, tossing crewmates into each other, knocking crates, barrels, and other clutter onto the deck. All the more things for clumsy pirates to trip over.
A cutlass came too close, and his breath hitched. He pulled the arm of a nearby pirate into the sword's path, blocking it with a sickly noise. He kicked the both of them into another pirate aiming his pistol and slipped back into the crowd.
A chorus of cannons began, sending shockwaves through the deck. Pirates fell over each other as their ship began to lean.
Red leapt out of the crowd, landing on a stack of barrels. Before any pirates could notice him, he began to jump in place. In no time, Red was little more than a blur, then he disappeared altogether.
A thousand sounds of impact played in a heartbeat. Every pirate on the ship toppled over, groaning and clutching their new bruises. Red appeared again in the centre of the deck, clutching to the mast for balance. Each bout of Soru lasted only a heartbeat, but left his muscles burning with pain.
Unfortunately, the ship wouldn't wait for him. The deck was tilting at a dangerous rate. Heavy barrels and cannons began to roll to the low side, tilting it further. Red peeked over the rail towards the passenger ship. He was at least one hundred feet away from it now. He cursed, and began to jump in place.
Valentine watched as Red leapt out of the sinking ship, sailing through the air at an incredible pace. Though fantastic, he could tell my his arc that Red wouldn't make it even half the distance. As Valentine made mental funeral preparations for Red, he abruptly stepped off the air as if it was solid. Valentine and the other passengers watched him climb an invisible slope and race across the air towards them. The further he ran, he more he lost altitude, stumbling and rising less with each stride. When he was near the boat he'd fallen so low, the waves licked his shoes. Red summoned his strength and leapt off with both feet.
His hands slapped against the railing, barely getting a grip it before he slid back down. With great difficulty, Red lifted himself over the side and flopped down the other side. He lay on his back, his chest heaving.
"I can't say I expected that," Valentine said, and he couldn't stop a small smile from taking form. "That was impressive."
"Thanks…" Red could slip the word between gasps of breath. "I just… my body," he paused to cough, then gasp for more air, "After I do that… I need to rest." In fact, he couldn't move a muscle if he wanted to. His entire body was burning up after that much exertion.
"Yeah, take it easy." Valentine awkwardly clapped him on the shoulder.
A shot rang through the air. Valentine didn't see the shooter, but he felt the bullet. Like being skewered by a runaway train, a resounding amount of force slammed into Valentine's chest. He crumpled against the railing, gasping for breath. Valentine had survived many things, but this was the first time he had ever been shot. Ribbons of blood dripped from a dark hole in his sternum.
The burning sensation that followed was amongst the worst Valentine had felt in his entire life, like being cut open by a white-hot knife. Valentine's face twisted with pain, and shock spread through his system. It was all he could do to focus his vision and not pass out.
Though his muscles screamed with pain, Red pushed through and rushed to Valentine, applying pressure to the wound with trained skill. Before he could help him further, a man materialized on the deck before them. A pirate with a captain's hat, sporting a cobra-flag design. In his hand, he held a smoking pistol.
"That's for my ship, and my crew." The man spat. "That bullet was laced with Dagger Snake venom. You'll die slowly, and painfully."
Red threw a knife at the pirate, who swatted it aside with his pistol barrel. He pulled the hammer and moved it onto Red, who already had another knife in his hand. The pirate pulled the trigger and the hammer struck, but nothing came from the gun. The pirate smiled, showing rows of tombstone teeth.
"I'll be back for you, Asada. Captain Alistair always gets his due." With that promise, his image blotted away, until he was gone entirely.
Red returned his attention to Valentine, who was still clinging to consciousness. Despite being shot, his look showed only mild inconvenience.
Without warning, Red stuck his fingers in Valentine's wound and ripped out the poisonous bullet. Valentine let out a scream that could curdle milk, and chomped down on his lip until it bled.
"Sorry," Red added, tucking the bullet into a coat pocket. He turned his attention to rest of the ship, locating the captain immediately. "Captain, take us to the closest island. He needs a doctor."
The captain paused to think, seemingly unaware of the urgency. "I'm sorry, but he can't be helped. Dagger Snake venom is always lethal, and there's no way to stop it once it enters your system. Even if you had a doctor, there's nothing they could do."
"I'll take my chances." Red ground his teeth. "Just take us to the nearest port, now."
The captain huffed at Red, unimpressed with being ordered around. "My job is to take this ship to Ishport, and that's where its going. It's another three hours, your friend won't last one. My advice, take him out of his misery now. Save him the pain."
Red stood to his full height, a foot taller than the man, and pulled a badge from one of his many jacket pockets. The badge was worn, but Valentine could still read CP-4 .
The captain took a long moment to reconsider. He licked his lips, then bowed his head in submission towards Red. "I'll take you to the closest island, then get off my ship. Understand?"
"Then get sailing," Red responded. When he turned back to Valentine, he was sitting up and taking water from a passenger. "I'll get you help, even if have to carry you over the Red Line to do it.