427 sat on the grass, cross legged, watching the ocean pass by. In order to arrive at Lvneel, the Germa kingdom's snails had split up. He had to say, since arriving in this world, it was the most bizarre thing he'd seen. A random thought interrupted him.
What the hell do they eat?
Shaking his head to refocus, he thought about what the course of action was. They had left behind the civilian snails, along with a few barracks of clone soldiers. 427 thought it was kind of arrogant to assume attacking pirates wouldn't be able to wipe those out.
Wait, we're in the North Blue. Nevermind then.
Each snail had around 3-4 barracks on their back, not including the ones with parts of the castle. If he had to guess from the show, they would probably ride the snails across the island, and jump down whenever there were more objectives to be completed.
He drummed the fingers of his gauntlet on his gun, making a wooden clacking noise. He had on his empty rucksack as well.
341 sat beside him, also silent. He was busy polishing his rifle.
"That's like, the fourth time you've done that." 427 observed. 341 didn't respond, lost in thought.
I wonder how he feels right now.
Was he excited? Worried about how he was going to perform? Maybe even nervous? The guy was an enigma.
The cruise though the ocean passed smoothly, and you could just make out the edges of Lvneel when the sun started to rise. A megaphone on the back of the snail crackled to life.
"All soldiers not on a royal castle snail, I repeat, all soldiers not on a royal castle snail, prepare for imminent fire." The robotic voice cut out with a metallic screech.
"That's us." 427 said, getting up with a grunt.
"I'm aware." 341 retorted, dryly.
Damn it, give me a break! I talk when I'm nervous.
The area they were landing in was the royal capital. It consisted of a portside city, with a castle on a hill above it. The snails split into two groups, going around each side of the city. From their vantage point, the cold wind blew, and the streets looked miniscule.
They were completely deserted. All the civilians were presumably huddled inside, with only the occasional patrols of guards, like ants, visible from the snail's back.
There was a protective barricade around the city, also manned by more of the guards.
This doesn't look all that bad. Where's the fighting?
As if in response, an explosion answered his call. Turning to look at the castle, he realized why the king had hired them. On the other side of the castle's hill, a massive kill zone was set up.
The kingdom's soldiers sprayed bullets down the hill, throwing grenades as well. The insurgents that were unlucky enough to get caught, exploded into red mist, as their comrades scrambled back to cover.
Judging from how the rebels seemed caught off guard, 427 was guessing that the local soldiers were going all out with their supplies, now that reinforcements were on their way.
As he was making highly uneducated guesses, the speakers crackled to life again:
"All soldiers on G24, I repeat, all soldiers on G24, please prepare to fire off the right side of the snail." With a squawk, the speaker shut down.
The thumping of boots was the only sound that could be heard as they all hustled over to, you guessed it, the right side of the snail.
Oh my God. It's going to be like shooting fish in a barrel.
The reality of what he was about to do was bearing down on him like a truck.
Call him a coward, but 427 preferred his first kill like this, rather than in melee combat. Maybe if he did it here, he wouldn't freeze up when it came down to the wire.
The snails that had separated into two lines started forming a semicircle around the front of the castle, a living wall against the rebels.
427 lined up his sights, waiting for his snail to turn into the optimal firing angle. His heart was thumping in his chest, his hands sweaty and shaking. He swallowed, hard.
Am I really doing this?
He had time for introspection, and it came down to one, unfortunate fact. If killing other people meant that he would survive, then he would do it.
This wasn't survival though. He could miss. He could fire into the ground. But what if someone noticed? Terrible aim only goes so far.
Fuck. Am I really doing this?
As the snail glided into position, the tang of gunpowder floated up to his nose. It wasn't overpowering, but in that moment, it was the most disgusting thing he'd ever smelled.
The rebels came into view, running, tripping, crawling. It was like a human tide of fear and regret.
He squared his sights over a rebel missing a leg, dragging himself through the mud and innards. Giving up, the man agonizingly rolled over onto his back, looking up at the sky.
427 wondered what he was feeling. Regret? Sadness? Anger? He couldn't see his face from this distance. He didn't want to. The dot of the iron sight perfectly blocked it off.
I really am a coward.
"Ready."
What? Now?
"Aim."
Should I do this? Can I do this? Do I have the right to-
"Fire."
The crack of bullets sounded, and, in that moment, 427 found that he had already pulled the trigger. The man slumped back, dead.
The world went silent.
There was a pause.
He didn't know how to feel. He couldn't bring himself to look at the body. He mechanically reloaded. The other clones continued to fire. He just sat there, a bullet in the gun, not pulling the trigger.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was standing out. He didn't care. He was too busy trying to figure out what emotion he was feeling.
"Cease fire."
The rebels were on full retreat. Shooting from this distance would just be a waste of ammo.
"Orders for land deployment will be delivered tomorrow." With that, the clones all started getting up.
427 got up unknowingly. He started walking. He didn't think about it. He was too busy trying to understand why he pulled the trigger. What he felt because of it.
341 tried saying something as he walked away. He didn't respond.
A few hours passed. 341 sought him out.
"You'll be in a squad with me and two other's tomorrow. We'll be..." He trailed off, as he realized 427 wasn't listening.
"... and I shouldn't have." 427 muttered to himself, mostly to work out his own thoughts. His eyes were bloodshot, and his head was in his hands.
"Do better in the future." 427's eyes looked up to meet 341s, each hidden behind their sunglasses.
"Isn't that the typical answer when it comes to mistakes?" 341 asked, head tilted. After a moment passed, and no response was forthcoming, he realized that 427 wasn't going to talk. He walked away after leaving a note to meet him in the sergeant's tent tomorrow morning.
It took a few hours after their brief talk to place what he was feeling. Was it anger? Disappointment?
It was disgust. Disgust at the situation, shooting at people who were probably fighting for a better life. Disgust at Germa, for doing anything for money. But mostly, he was disgusted with himself.
He shot that man because he was scared. Scared that he would be found out. Scared that when the time came for melee combat, he would freeze up.
He never wanted to be disgusted with himself again. To regret something again.
He would never let fear control him again. No matter what.
Inside of him, a lock holding something back loosened.
After another hour, he had mostly calmed down.
The immorality of what he had done, and what he would most likely do, would probably stick with him for life. Despite that, he wouldn't regret it, because he refused to let it come from a place of cowardice.
Regardless, it was his cross to bear.
Oh, and he added a new task to his to-do list!
To completely screw over the Germa kingdom before I leave.
The evening found him training. He knew that risking injury was stupid, but he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts at that moment. For some reason, he felt like his moves were coming slightly smoother. His claws didn't catch as much, his stabs felt more fluid, and he was pretty sure if he tried using "Flowing water: crushing rock" it would be a hell of a lot better than his first attempts.
So, does that mean mental breakthroughs are linked to physical achievement?
It would explain why the clones never grew physically, and why the Vinsmoke kids never became true powerhouses, despite all the advantages they had going for them.
He wasn't sure if his current state of high focus would last, so he continued training for the rest of the day. He still avoided weight training though, because he didn't want to fight exhausted.
After a fast dinner, he quickly fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning found him, 341, and two other clones from their barracks in a commander's tent. On the wall behind him was a map of Lvneel.
The scale of the One Piece world was deceptively massive. 427 remembered reading that Alabasta was half the size of Australia on a blog somewhere.
Lvneel was nowhere near that size, but it was still rather large.
Story of my life.
In terms of surface area, it was about equal to Maryland. The shape was rather circular, however.
The capital city was located on the eastern end of the island. There were seven other notable cities, with three of them being towards the center of the island, and the others dotted along the coast.
Numerous villages were located throughout the island. Judging from the smaller map on the table in front of them, their mission was at one of the said villages.
"A cell of insurgents is operating out of this village. The original villagers have been displaced to the royal capital. Your job is to exterminate them."
Wow, speaking with his inside voice? That's pretty rare.
The instructor finished with a good ol' crowd pleaser.
"That is all. Glory to Germa."
"Glory to Germa!" the echoed response came.
If this truly was a case of armed rebels using an abandoned village as a base, 427 was relieved. Better than having to wipe out a village where insurgents were hiding, only to find out every man, woman, and child is participating.
I just jinxed myself, didn't I?
Luckily, not this time. A group of armed, grown men.
Perfect to convince myself that my actions are morally ambiguous!
It wasn't that he enjoyed or didn't care about what he was doing. He just accepted that it needed to be done, unlike the earlier case where he was pushed into action by his fear. He could have missed and been fine regardless. Probably.
Putting the binoculars to his eyes, he lay prone on a hill beside 341. The other two clones had circled around to the other side.
Once 341 fired the first shot, they would all follow up with more fire.
427 focused the binoculars on the town, slowly sweeping over it. He paused as he saw something too good to be true.
"You seeing what I'm seeing?" He asked 341, who was peering through the scope of his rifle.
"The conveniently placed box with the word 'explosive' painted over it in bright red? Yes, I indeed do."
"Wow, I think that's the most I've ever heard you say."
"Hn."
Back to the Sasuke treatment?
427 asked the real question.
"So… you think it's real?"
"We have four people shooting at the same time. Even if I don't personally shoot it, I know you will." 341 responded, exasperated.
"You know me so well. And you didn't answer the question." 427 responded, deadpan.
"Line up your shot." 341 said, clearly done with the conversation.
"Goooot iiiiitttttt." 427 dragged out his response.
Exhaling, he put his sights smack dab in the center of the "explosive crate."
"Commencing fire." With a crack, 341 loosed his bullet. A man on watch collapsed to the ground anticlimactically.
With great anticipation, 427 shot the box. His anticipation was rewarded with a distant KA-THOOM, and about a quarter of the village flattened.
"Are you serious?!" 341 asked. If his sunglasses were normal, they would have slid down the bridge of his nose.
Was it that shocking? That's the most emotion I've ever heard him express.
Laying down a few more shots of debatable effectiveness, 427 finally had enough of shooting from a distance. Not only was it not effective for him, he felt like it was letting the fear control him. He needed to see the results of his actions up close, to understand what he was doing.
"I'm moving in."
"Copy that." The response came not only from 341, but one of the other two who was also shooting.
"I'll move in too." One of the clones, he hadn't bothered memorizing their voices, clearly agreed with his choice of action.
"Lay down some cover fire for me." With that parting remark, 427 took off towards the village, zigzagging between cover.
I'm sorry for what I must do, but I will see it through regardless.