Chapter 3: A Path Forged in a Sea of Fire
It was the first time since his transmigration that Luo Ling had seen a truly powerful person take action.
In an instant, every single intruder collapsed, foaming at the mouth and completely unconscious.
[Conqueror's Haki upgraded to Intermediate. Proficiency: 5%]
Not a single Revolutionary soldier was affected. Dragon's control over his Conqueror's Haki was nearly perfect.
Luo Ling watched as the figure in the green cloak leaped from their ship to the enemy's. A moment later, all fighting on the enemy vessel ceased. Dragon had neutralized their entire force single-handedly.
A boisterous voice cut through the air. "Hee-haw! Hard to port! Make for the summer island thirty miles out!"
The island was a perpetual summer climate zone; even in the dead of night, a warm breeze blew from its shores. Ivankov's commanding voice snapped the soldiers back to attention. The revolutionary ship caught the wind, breaking through the waves under a brilliant moonlit sky.
They dropped anchor near the coast of the island. Tucked away in a hidden cove was a small harbor, home to a single pirate ship large enough to hold 300 men.
Luo Ling followed his team leader ashore. There was no sign of a struggle—no blood, just bodies. On the pirate ship and in the nearby tavern, dozens of extravagantly dressed pirates were passed out on the floor, surrounded by spilled wine and broken bottles. They were all adorned with gaudy jewelry, gold rings set with precious stones on nearly every finger. Every last one of them had been knocked unconscious by Dragon's wave of Haki.
[Detected fading Devil Fruit power: Doa Doa no Mi. Analysis initiated.]
One man, however, lay dead at Dragon's feet, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Luo Ling knew this must have been the user of the Door-Door Fruit. Dragon had intentionally shielded him from the Conqueror's Haki, choosing instead to kill him personally to ensure the threat was eliminated.
Ivankov surveyed the scene. "These scum must have used this island as a base to observe passing ships, using their fruit user to launch surprise attacks at night. Gather all their supplies! We move out immediately! Let's go, boys and girls!"
After helping carry the last crate of supplies, an exhausted Luo Ling returned to his cabin. The corpse of the first assassin was still there. He didn't have to worry about the two in the corridor—someone else would handle them, and their deaths wouldn't be pinned on him.
[Analysis Complete. Devil Fruit Acquired.]
[Paramecia: Doa Doa no Mi (Door-Door Fruit)]
Inside a shimmering, translucent bubble, the Door-Door Fruit materialized. "I can't believe it can analyze and replicate a Devil Fruit," Luo Ling marveled. "Without this, CP9's Blueno will be a lot weaker in the future." He took a bite of the replicated fruit and immediately gagged. "Ugh, it's just as disgusting as they say!"
[Removing side effects... Removing risk of Devil Fruit incompatibility... Removal successful.]
Luo Ling felt a new power settle within him. Thank god for the Hourglass, he thought. Normally, eating a second Devil Fruit would mean instant death. He pushed lightly with the palm of his hand.
An "air door" opened in the space before him. He unceremoniously tossed the corpse through it and closed the door, erasing the body from existence. "Still smells a bit like blood in here," he muttered, opening the door again to air out the room.
After clearing the smell, Luo Ling fell into a peaceful sleep.
...
A week later, in the ship's conference room, Ivankov was briefing the mission leaders. "Our next target is a winter island. It's perpetually frozen and blanketed in snow. In one week, we will liberate this nation. They will never again pay the Heavenly Tribute to the Celestial Dragons!"
The Heavenly Tribute was the price of fealty to the World Government, a sum so enormous it forced the citizens of affiliated nations into poverty. The royal families, of course, were exempt from this suffering. They lived in luxury, dreaming that their decadent lifestyles would one day earn them a place among the gods of Mary Geoise.
The winter island was named Dedicarts, and its king had a cruel hobby of "choosing" a new consort from the populace every month.
Luo Ling was assigned to a ten-man squad in a support role. This would be their final mission before they reached the East Blue. The revolutionaries disguised their ship as a merchant vessel and docked, masquerading as common traders. Luo Ling was given a pair of thick snow boots and a heavy hoodie with a cute bird pattern on it to protect his ears from the biting cold. He kept his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and followed close behind his captain for the day.
"Don't say a word. Just stick close. For today, you're my son," the man instructed.
Dragon appeared beside him, placing a large hand on his shoulder. Luo Ling just nodded.
As they walked from the port into the city, the scene changed drastically. The areas near the docks were filled with well-fed merchants and guards, drinking and laughing in taverns. But just a few streets deeper, the prosperity vanished. Here, people with pale, gaunt faces scrambled for any scrap of work that might fill their stomachs. Deeper still, in the back alleys, there was an eerie silence. The ground was littered with frozen corpses—those who had starved, lost their body heat, and succumbed to the unforgiving cold.
Squeak.
The door to a derelict house opened. Inside, there was no warm stove, no comfort. A small group of people were huddled in a corner, wrapped in ragged blankets, their expressions grim.
"Mr. Dragon, can't we act now?" a young man pleaded, his voice cracking. "A week is too long! More people will die!"
Dragon remained silent.
"These damn royals!" another man spat. "I want to kill them right now!"
Still, Dragon said nothing.
"We need food," a long-haired man stated, his face hidden by a curtain of hair. "We need calories to regain our strength. We can only fight when we're fed."
Dragon's gaze fell upon him, and he finally spoke. "We've brought a large supply of food, enough for everyone here to last a week. Once you've all regained your strength, that will be the day the royalty falls."
A flicker of hope ignited in the room. Grateful eyes turned towards him.
Soon after, Dragon led Luo Ling away, walking through the streets and alleys to analyze the terrain.
"Mr. Dragon," Luo Ling asked, confused. "If you wanted to take down the royal family, you could do it by yourself in an instant. Why wait a week?"
"One king falls, and another will rise after we leave," Dragon said simply. "That will keep happening, unless they all learn to stand up for themselves." He finished speaking and handed him a piece of hardtack. "This is what we'll be eating this week, so that there's enough for everyone."
Luo Ling took it without complaint. He saw a man in a nearby house receive the same ration from a revolutionary soldier. The man stared at the hardtack for a moment, a faint light returning to his dull eyes, before he began to devour it ravenously. Luo Ling took a bite of his own. It tasted awful, but it was enough to survive.
...
A week later, the flames rose again. He watched as a sea of fire consumed the royal palace, sweeping everything away. Snowflakes fell from the dark sky, hissing as they melted in the intense heat. The royal banner toppled from its spire and was quickly turned to ash.
Luo Ling had never understood why, in stories, the common people would burn the palace after a revolution. Now he did. They weren't burning a building. They were burning their fear.
Staring into that sea of fire in the snow, Luo Ling finally knew what he wanted to do with his life. He wouldn't be a pirate. He wouldn't be a Marine. He would be like Dragon. He would be the fire.
It was the same fire Fisher Tiger had lit in Mary Geoise, the same fire that had heralded his arrival in this world.
"Mr. Dragon," Luo Ling said, his voice firm. "Can I not go to the East Blue? I want to stay and fight with you."
"You need to become much stronger before you can fight alongside us," Dragon replied, his gaze unwavering. "My father can help you with that."
That was all he said.
"Luo Ling! Hee-haw! We'll be waiting for the day you set sail for real!" Ivankov cried, pulling the boy into a bone-crushing hug.
At dawn, a small island came into view.
East Blue. Foosha Village.