Chapter 12: Tastes Like Chicken
"Look! It's fine! The meat's practically pre-cooked! Hurry up and haul it in before it sinks, or it'll be too salty!" The cry came from Thomas, the ship's cook, who was brandishing his massive soup ladle like a scepter. His culinary instincts had overridden any concern for his captain's bizarre predicament.
"I'm on it! Watch this—100% lasso guarantee!" A lanky crewman named Taft pushed his way to the railing. He was the ship's rigging expert, a man whose hands made rope seem alive. He swung a heavy coil, the loop at the end dancing like a charmed serpent. With a powerful heave, he sent the lasso flying. It soared through the air and settled perfectly around the thrashing Sea King's neck.
"Pull!" Taft yelled, bracing himself.
Roy, Joseph, and several others rushed to grab the rope, heaving with all their might. The massive creature, still spasming from the internal barbecue it was experiencing, was dragged closer, its enormous head thudding against the side of their ship with a resonant boom.
"Ace, get out of there!" Roy shouted into the beast's gaping maw.
Faintly, from deep within the Sea King's gullet, a voice echoed up, punctuated by the sounds of violent combustion and tearing meat.
"Stupid Roy... lousy Roy... bastard Roy..."
Roy's eye twitched. He focused his Observation Haki, confirming his suspicions. "He's... cursing my name while he cooks it from the inside out."
The entire crew paused their pulling for a second. "...Seriously?"
"You know what? Forget him. The meat's getting cold!" Roy declared, practicality winning over rescue operations. He drew a long, sharp dagger from his boot—a habit he'd picked up from Mihawk, who believed a proper dining knife was as essential as a main blade. With practiced efficiency, Roy began carving into the Sea King's scorched hide.
Thomas joined him, his cleaver a blur. "Don't just stand there, you blubbering idiots! Get to carving! This is a five-star meal delivered by our captain himself!"
The crew needed no further encouragement. They fell upon the beast's head with knives, daggers, and sheer hunger, tearing off great, steaming chunks of perfectly cooked meat and shoving them into their mouths.
"Mmmph! Tastes like chicken! A bit crunchy, but crispy!" Roy managed between ravenous bites, not even pausing his work. The flavor was a little bland, but to a crew on the brink of starvation, it was a feast fit for a king.
By the time they had stripped the head down to bone, there was still no sign of Ace, though occasional gouts of flame from the throat confirmed he was still very much alive and, presumably, still eating.
"Alright, he's had his fun in there. He can find his own way out," Roy said, grunting as he helped heave the massive, meatless skull back into the sea. The crew then began the arduous task of hauling the main body of the Sea King onto the deck, the ship groaning in protest under the immense weight.
"This guy is ridiculously strong," Slott muttered to Jerry, watching Roy manhandle a section of vertebrae.
"You're telling me," Jerry agreed, his eyes wide.
When they finally managed to pull the torso onto the deck, they found it was mostly a hollowed-out shell of skin and bone. Inside, sitting atop a pile of devoured meat, was Ace. One hand was still flickering with embers, while the other was systematically tearing off the last remaining strips of flesh from the ribs and stuffing them into his mouth.
Hiccup!
Ace let out a mighty belch, a small puff of smoke accompanying it. He reached for the tail, the last untouched part.
"Oh no, you don't!" Roy yelled. With a final, mighty heave, he and the others shoved the entire carcass, tail and all, back into the ocean. The momentum sent Ace tumbling out of the cavity, landing on the deck in a heap.
"Good save, Roy!" Thomas cheered, swiftly darting forward to salvage the few untouched bits of the tail before they sank, hauling them triumphantly into his galley.
"Hey! What was that for? I wasn't finished!" Ace complained, brushing scales and monster gunk off his shorts.
Everyone on deck stared at him, their own bellies now comfortably full.
"You ate an entire Sea King from the inside out," Joseph said flatly.
"You paid the 'price of your life,' so you deserve more?" Roy added, raising an eyebrow.
Ace pouted. "Well, yeah!"
A chorus of dismissive "Yeah, rights" and sarcastic "Cuts" echoed across the deck.
"Ugh, so full," Roy groaned, collapsing onto the deck and patting his stomach. The rest of the crew followed suit, a contented, drowsy silence falling over them as the adrenaline and hunger faded.
After a while, Roy squinted at the sky. "Hey, it's getting foggy. And... does anyone else feel like we're off course?"
"What? No way," said Jin, the navigator, shaking his head. He was a man who trusted the stars and the moon implicitly. "I've been watching the moon the whole time, how could we—" He glanced down at the Record Pose on his wrist and his face went pale. "Ah! We've deviated!"
He held up his arm. The needle of the Log Pose was pointing stubbornly away from the moon, toward a thick bank of fog ahead.
Roy sighed, a lesson from Mihawk echoing in his mind. "On the Grand Line, you can't trust the stars, the clouds, or even the water itself. The only thing that tells the truth is the Log Pose. So we're off course. I was wondering why an island appeared so soon; it didn't match our projected route."
"Island? The Log Pose has already locked onto the magnetic field of the landmass ahead," Jin confirmed, his voice full of chagrin. He was still getting used to the Grand Line's constant betrayals.
Ace, however, leaped to his feet, his brief sulk forgotten, his spirit of adventure instantly rekindled. "So we deviated! Men, our adventure continues!"
Roy grinned, pushing himself up. He was starting to like this crew. "He's right. An adventure isn't an adventure without a few surprises. Let's go see what this island has in store for us."
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Which Crew Would you Want to be a Part of? I would go With Law's.
GIMME GIMME MYY STONESS.