Partia's harbor blazed with bonfire fury.
Fuel: Town's splintered beams, scattered planks—ruined homes, stacked for night-glow.
Flames swelled hourly; island's beacon from afar.
Fire-front throne: Eustass "Captain" Kid.
Barrel-seat, arms crossed, sea-stare fixed.
Boredom lingered—then: Grin cracked.
Dark horizon: Lone ship neared.
Sought prey. Odd lights—no sails—slow-docked. First arrival.
Kid rose, thrilled.
"Finally. Took your sweet time."
"Offshore skirmish. Faint from here."
"Anyone works. Entertain me, yeah?"
Killer's aside; Kid beamed warlike—details? Irrelevant.
Killer shook head, sighed.
"That mark—who?"
"Death Surgeon, Trafalgar Law. North Blue upstart."
"Tavern loudmouth? Fine—some fun."
"Don't overdo, Kid. Supplies tight already."
"Depends on 'em. Worthy arm? No promises."
Heart Pirates' Polar Tang: Anchored.
Halt held; hatch yawned—figures spilled.
Law led: Deck-king.
Kid uncrossed, subtle.
Crew trailed; Kid strode solo—fists balled, intent bare. Grin-blocked path; Law's glare pierced—purpose clear.
Blade-gripped Law eyed; Kid spoke first.
"Late. Wore thin waiting."
"Eustass... Your mess?"
"Nah—just stroked some gutless fools. Since when pirates enforce rules? Whining 'foul'? Reminded 'em of truth."
Law's mutter: Town-ruin scan.
Collapsed sprawl; Kid shouldered it—arms wide, bold.
"Pirates? Power's emblem. Winner's lawless revel. Gutless ex-Navy race? Whole isle's itch."
"Hence this."
"They knew better. Your old tricks. Razed wild, now preach order? Pathetic fall."
"Hah—you're no genius. So? Stole prize—why linger?"
Kid's grin deepened.
Crew-base: Three metal cases—three mil Berry.
Law's glance confirmed; Kid roared back.
"Not prize. Spoils. Taker's right."
"Use it then. Yours."
"Boring."
Kid boomed on.
"Race? Meh—cull tool. Gasperde's sabotage survivors? Prospects. Brawlers sure. Targets from jump. Gold? Meh."
"Power flex? Dull motive."
"Nah—crave crushing strong. Grand Line gauge? Perfect. Festival this. Quiet? Mood-kill."
"Simple either way. Get it, sure."
"You? Gold-blind. Want it? Beat me. Choice?"
Kid primed—poised for instant riposte, ambush-proof.
Law pondered.
Coin handy—not craved. Truth: No fight urge here—hassle vibe.
Kid's stance nagged.
"Scared? Run fine."
"Sigh... Fine."
Head-shake; gripped Kikoku—draw tease.
Eyes steel; Kid's fire fed.
"Not gold-need. But mouth? Grates."
"Hah—knew it'd hook!"
Glares locked—tension brewed.
Kid's watch; Polar Tang: Law's crew emerged.
Under gazes: Captains coiled battle.
Law palmed ground; Kid's orbit: Metals swirled.
Powers synced—clash locked.
"Charge—!"
"ROOM"
Blue dome bloomed sync; Kid bolted.
Law drawn, set—unfazed. Kid's dash: Blinding, armored right—colossal metal fist forged.
Blink-ban tension.
Gap vanished; strike-second spotlight.
Collision dodged abrupt.
Intervene: Paper spear—sky-drop, ground-stab. Reflex leaps: Duo distanced.
Kir landed—scan-smile.
"Hold. Hot bloods—cool chat?"
"You—"
"Paper user. Straw's right hand, yeah?"
Kid's snarl; Killer's mutter backed—arms-crossed vigil.
Glance: Killer inert—ease; Kir calm-pitched.
"No prize need. Yours free."
"What?!"
"Race yours. Prize right too. Grudge?"
"Missed it? No rules mine. Race? Bullshit."
"Yeah—ain't rule-follower."
"Then quick end."
"But we skip yours too. Forced? Trouble."
"Huh?"
Rage shrugged; Kir's smile held—shoulder shrug.
Norm: Kid's fury crushes calm. Kir? Unfazed—stood bold, no flinch.
Killer: Impressed murmur.
No talker—deeds spoke: Assessor's eye.
Blunt: "No bow."
Short-fuse Kid? Silent? No—fist clenched metal, war-called.
"Ah—coward fleer, then."
"Irks more? Worth flee."
"Smart mouth shines. Fine—flee if ya can. Backstab? No whine."
"Hm—tricky. Then: No flee."
"Fight me?"
"No fight. Just stay."
"Crazy? Or dumb?"
"Either. Pick. No fight anyway."
"You...!"
"Angry? Stress bad. Vent—exercise? Swim... Nah, Fruit-curse."
Deadpan tone, vibe, voice.
Kir's all: Rage-fuel. Kid's face twisted monstrous—strike imminent.
Killer cool-scan: Admired grasp.
Elite fighter—tough topple. But poise? Easy crack. Closest guard's seal: Hothead low-boil—taunt bites quick.
Double-edge: Rage-blind? Island-wipe risk. No self-provoke norm.
Killer's "Clever": Defused rampage.
Tone irked—yet no-fight vow held; no lunge. Clear: Resist-free. Kid's hate: Unwanted.
Strong-crush seeker: Dodge cruelest.
Kir's wish: Rage held—no strike.
Thought-path: Frontal smash craved. Denied? One path.
Killer guessed: Kir's next—single.
"Worry not—road long. Clash later."
Mask-smirk: Spot-on.
No now-fight. But vow future? Kid bites sure. No easy smash—resist-free.
Norm? Whatever—Kir? Frontal fall desired.
Playful prick: Prime crush.
"Later? Joke! Crush you now."
"Our captain? Pirate King-bound. Sea's throne his."
Brow-jump: Seal.
Kir piled:
"No rush-here. Bound clash somewhere. Waste-fret. Ain't fragile pair."
"Name-drop? Guts ready?"
"Sure. You prepped?"
"Spit."
Kid shifted.
Aura hushed—calm crept.
Goal-recall: Rethink. Tone evened.
Volatile, yes—cool? Thinker. Chance? No bull-rush. Reassess possible.
Motion stirred.
Killer silent-watch.
Faint grin: Kid dropped metal shroud.
Power off—fight abort.
"Done. Fine—test it. Your survival odds."
"Cheers."
"Later. Clear win then. Till—don't croak."
Kid turned.
Pre-stride: Recall.
"One more."
"What?"
Whip-back: Belt-knife yanked, flung momentum-true. Blade honed Kir-ward. Paper-finger parry—clink.
Swing, power, reflex: No flee-fodder. Thus: Fearless defer—motive other.
Kid's leer: "You're mine. Tell Straw too."
"Yeah—will. If recall."
Boyish beam: Ire-stir, yet clicked.
Kid strode final—no glance.
Curious Kir: Back-query.
"Prize?"
"Nah—yours."
"Generous heart. Thanks."
Light thanks—unheeded fade.
Crew trailed swift. No look-back. Cases ditched—forms receded.
Killer lone outlier.
Faced Kir: Quiet probe.
"Called 'our captain.' Straw? Or your rear man?"
"Dunno. Which?"
"Other-ship reason baffles. Scheme-bound?"
"Why think?"
"Looked it. That's all."
Kir dodged firm. Unease? Kid-face milder than Killer's.
Knowing? Killer gaze-dropped first.
Hedge-no: Answer gleaned.
One case heft: Killer Kir-glanced.
Mask-veiled: Friendly-foe enigma.
"Kid says free—one ours. Voyage funds need."
"Take. No greed—all yours fine."
"Rest—split yours. Later."
Crisp exit; Killer trailed.
Crew boarded; swift sail likely. Parting crisp.
Fight odds: Zilch.
Law head-tilt cue: Shachi-Penguin jogged—case-bound. Verify order, sure.
Kir advanced: Spear-reclaim—paper-fold, tucked garb—norm.
Halted: Law neared—grave tone.
"Paper-man."
Wheel: Stern eyes—wary edge. No full-trust face. Kir took natural.
No instant buy-in. Reaction? Clocked.
"Usable—got it. Deal nod."
"Thanks. Thrilled."
"But provisional. Useless? Then—"
"Know. Won't flop."
Moonlit dock: Hushed pact.
Kir nod; Law averted, slight bow—grin deepened.
Solid score.
Trust full? Premature. Aligned gain? Promising. Pact set—flop-free wish.
Duo wrapped: Shachi-Penguin synced cheer—case-peek joy. Prize confirmed.
Approached: Kir-Law shouldered natural.
"Cap—one bil each-ish."
"Lost bil—but no bust. Good."
"Shachi—to Paper-man."
"Huh?"
Abrupt Law: Shachi tilt.
Duo cases—one Kir-bound.
Kir doubt-glance: Law.
"Case? Bil's huge."
"Partnership: No rank. Equals."
"Ah—grateful."
"Keep low. No leaks. Straw too."
"Tough—but started us. Manage."
"Kid crew snag... But no blabber. Skip now—trouble? Cull. Fine?"
"Help call?"
"Obvious. Or—your wing."
"Yeah. Ease explain."
Deep breath nod: Kir wry.
Shachi handoff: Weighty grip right.
"Cap's generous. Likes ya heaps."
"Glad—if true."
"Real. Grins rare—betting big."
"Shut extra, Shachi. Hears."
"But true? Stranger-ship? Never."
"Plus—Kir's solid."
Shachi beamed; Penguin clapped Kir-shoulder.
Cap contrast: Fun flock.
Law's rear: Jumpsuit bear, Bepo—quirk pure, earnest. Downside: Quick-melt. Chat-spark joy.
Fluent bear-speak. Odd? Sea-pirate legit—no query left.
Law's soft tsk; Kir wry-good.
Depart-group: Kir smile-waved.
"Split here. But—onward, all."
"Yo—later~"
"Cherish your crew too."
"Kir—see ya~"
Shachi, Penguin, Bepo—Heart full—voiced farewell, hands high—sub-board.
No linger. Straw-meet pre: Isle-bail plan.
Crew gone: Law solo—faced Kir.
Sub-chat brief.
Not all spilled—but gist landed, grasped.
Shared: Warlord ties, long-shared time. Grudge mutual. Grand Line ahead: Wall inevitable.
Kin-feel? Queer bind.
Not crew. Not stranger, friend, foe.
Tough-swallow: First tie.
Mull futile—quit; Law flat-voiced.
"You pitched—mid-drop? Nah."
"Yeah."
"Guts enough. ...Later."
"You too—no dying."
Law turned—sub-mount, hatch-seal: Polar Tang dove—vanished swift.
Post: Kir eyed dock-tip Biera.
Crew-drop, likely. Ill-man: Law-checked, med-handed. Damp garb dried, blanket-wrapped—slump-sit, gait loath. Face shadowed gloom.
Kir sat neighbor: Sea-gaze sync.
Moon afloat yonder—seared-mind beauty.
"Death-ready once... Lived again. Life—unpredictable."
"Alive? Good comes."
"Aye. Thought so—lived that. Now? Regret. Worth-flung life skipped? Old wreck me—versus survivor's."
"Yeah..."
Gaze fixed: Sporadic murmur.
Biera's tone: Drained. Deep regret-sad caged—chest gnawed anxious.
Escape? Kir blank.
Crew near? Diff'rent. Kir's lone? Echoed empty?
But thought struck.
Water-reflect: Kir smile-mused.
"But—saved one? How's that feel?"
"How, what?"
"Cherished mutual? Worry shared? Wanted joint live. Sheltered sole? Joyless prob'ly. They'd mirror your now."
"Maybe. But her—future bright."
"Yours too. Still breathing."
Words hit: Biera face-veiled, bowed.
Soft hitch: Weep hint? Kir gaze-up, distant—calm hush.
"Quit? Hope lingers. Hunt it. Might be rash-assume."
"Pitiful... Me, what..."
"Regret-loop? No forward. Look ahead. Kid-hunt first—outcome unknown. Maybe alive somewhere."
"Kuh... Aye. Ground-stare? Futile."
Wrist-wipe eyes: Biera front-faced.
Kir's smile checked: Mood lifted.
"Contact crew first. All-know? Easier."
"Sorry. All favors—burden."
"Nah. Mood-move only."
Meds downed—ill grip strong.
Left weary Biera: Kir town-turned.
Razed vista: No lean. Thus: Self-hunt comms, summon mates.
Biera's lost: Probe too.
Post-Law: More care needed. Town trust? Docs alive? Scout req.
Tasks piled.
Start where? Mull wise.
Mused: Kir loose-grin, shrug-slack.
--------------------------
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