"Hey, wait!" — a voice called from behind just as I was about to step out onto the street.
I turned around. It was the guy with the rifle — the one who'd been sitting quietly at the bar the whole time. He stood up and followed me, smoothly stepping over the threshold.
"You want something?" I asked, already standing in the sunlit street of Logtown.
"You said back in the bar… that you want to find One Piece. Were you serious?" — his voice wasn't mocking. It carried a mix of surprise and… something like uneasy curiosity.
Now, in the daylight, I could finally get a good look at him.
He was much taller than me — by at least half a meter. And I'm no short guy myself — already close to two meters, and still growing by the feel of it. But he looked different: not like a brawler or a brute. Lanky, almost gaunt, with long light-brown hair falling to his shoulders. He wore simple round glasses and a strange black hat with soft brims.
A familiar face — and clothes — I thought as I looked at him.
Back in the bar, his face had been expressionless, like stone. No emotion at all. But now — it was a different story: his eyes were tense, his lips pressed tight. Like he was fighting some kind of inner conflict.
"Yeah, I'm serious," I said calmly, locking eyes with him.
He hesitated. Then took a step forward.
"Then you need me. Take me on your crew."
I frowned, narrowing my eyes.
"And why would I do that?" My voice was cautious, almost lazy — but inside, I was already on edge. "Why should I take you?"
"You want to find One Piece, right?" he said.
"Well…" I drawled, waiting for more.
He nodded toward the rifle slung over his shoulder.
"Then you'll need someone who can hit the target before anyone else even sees it."
I gave his gun a quick glance. Strange, old model.
"So you're a sniper," I said, stepping into the shade of a nearby alley. "Start with your name."
"Van Augur," he answered without hesitation. "At your service."
"Bellamy," I said, offering my hand. The puzzle in my mind finally clicked together — Van Augur, one of Blackbeard's future pirates, if memory serves. A damn good sniper. But can I really trust him?
He didn't shake it — just gave a nod.
"I already know," he said calmly. "There've been too many posters with your face not to."
I smirked.
"Then tell me — why my crew? Why not someone else?"
He didn't look away. Instead, he pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper and unfolded it — my wanted poster.
"I liked what you said in the bar," he said quietly, resting a hand on his rifle. "And today, fate made the decision for me."
He nodded toward the poster.
"I want to stand beside the one who'll stand beside the King — as the best sniper."
"Hm. Not a bad pitch. But…" I crossed my arms over my chest, "…so far all I've heard is talk. I haven't seen a single shot."
I squinted at him, tilting my head slightly.
"Maybe you're just a damn good liar?"
I remember him… but better to be sure, I thought. Instinct told me to trust him. Experience said: test him.
At that moment, the corners of his mouth twitched — emotion I'd seen on his face. Almost a smile. Thin. Predatory.
"Then give me a target," he said calmly. "And I'll show you how lies bounce off the barrel."
I gave a short chuckle, glanced toward the street, then tilted my head.
"See that weather vane on the Marine outpost?" I nodded at the rooftop of a massive stone building towering in the distance. "Half a kilometer. Maybe more."
"Try hitting that."
He didn't even turn to confirm the target. Just pivoted toward the building, raised his rifle — one smooth, almost lazy motion, precise in its grace.
No long aim.
No breath-holding.
Just a short exhale — and the shot.
A dull pop split the air. And in the same second, far off — the weather vane creaked, began to spin… and toppled, crashing onto the tin roof below.
Metal clanged across the shingles. A few people in the square turned, squinting at the building.
Augur silently lowered the rifle.
"Lies don't survive direct hits," he said — like he was stating a law of physics.
Van Augur.I know who he is… or who he's supposed to become.A sniper from Blackbeard's future crew. One of the most precise marksmen in the world. Calm. Silent. The perfect sniper, you might say — but is that really the whole truth?He's here, standing in front of me — and asking to join my crew.
"Alright, marksman. Welcome aboard," I said after a moment, extending my hand.Everything about this felt... a little too convenient.
But I'll be watching you all the same, I thought.
He shook my hand — firm, precise.
"I hope you really do reach what you speak of," he said quietly.
I nodded.
"There's one more stop I need to make," I said, not breaking eye contact.
I turned, took a step, then glanced back over my shoulder:
"So if you still want to be part of this crew — meet me at the docks. Sixteen hundred. Not earlier. Not later."
He gave a slow nod and replied:
"No problem, captain," he said.