Early the next morning, Mor arrived at the crew's designated meeting spot. Sure enough, he was the first one there. He stood alone for quite a while, thoroughly pleased with himself.
I might be the weakest one on this ship, but I'm the most punctual. When the next person shows up, I'm definitely going to rub their face in it.
But he waited and waited by himself, and not a single other crew member showed.
"Did I come to the wrong place?" Mor turned to look at the restaurant behind him. No, this was definitely it. So where was everyone?
Mor sank deep into bewildered confusion.
Two more hours crawled by. Morning had long since turned to noon. He was just about convinced the captain had abandoned him when a familiar figure finally appeared in his line of sight.
Overcome, he threw himself at the person.
"Hey, Mor, what's up? Someone give you a hard time? Why are your eyes all red?"
Salar asked, puzzled. And yes—the familiar face Mor had spotted was Salar.
"I thought you'd all ditched me. Nobody came."
Mor's voice came out thick and choked.
"Really? They're still not here? Guess I came pretty early, then."
"Early?!" The instant that word hit his ears, Mor's fury ignited. He sprang off Salar. "You think you're early? You know when I got here? I've been waiting four, five hours already!"
Mor was on the verge of a breakdown. How could this guy be so shameless? Showing up at noon and calling it early?
"So why'd you come so early, then?" Salar asked him.
"Didn't the captain say to meet here in the morning?"
"Did the captain say that? I don't remember that at all." Salar carefully combed through his memories of the night before. Had he drunk so much he'd forgotten something that important?
But then again, nobody else had shown up either.
"He said it." Mor's tone was absolute, which made Salar wonder if the captain had said it in Mor's dream.
In the end, Salar waited with Mor for another hour or so before the rest of the crew trickled in.
"What's with Mor? Why does he look so terrible?"
Jora slung an arm around Salar's neck and asked.
"Probably because you guys were late."
"Late? Did the captain set a meeting time?" Surprise seeped into Jora's voice. He had absolutely no memory of that.
"I don't know either." Salar shrugged.
And Shirakawa was the very last of them to arrive.
"All right, now that everyone's here, let's head out," Shirakawa said to his crew.
"Sounds good."
Before setting off, they bought a few more camels to serve as transport across the desert. There wasn't much else to ride out here anyway.
"By the way, I can tell you're outsiders. You've got to be real careful in the desert."
The camel seller spoke to Shirakawa, clearly a warm-hearted guy.
"What's the deal?"
"In the desert, you don't just watch out for natural dangers like sandstorms. You've also got to be wary of the sand pirates."
"Sand pirates? What are sand pirates?" Jora voiced the question on all their minds.
"Sand pirates are just like sea pirates—bandits of the desert."
"Oh, so that's it. Perfect. We're pirates ourselves. If we run into them, who's doing the robbing won't be so clear-cut."
Jora grinned, genuinely interested. He knew mountain bandits and sea pirates, but he'd never heard of sand pirates as a career.
"You're pirates? Then you'd better be even more careful. Rumor has it, there's a crew of sand pirates who never show any mercy to sea pirates."
Hearing that Shirakawa's group were pirates, the camel seller wasn't the least bit frightened. Instead, he warned them. Looked like the guy was a real pizza, too.
"Mister, you're a real good guy."
"I just don't want to see you throwing your lives away. Besides, you don't look like bad people."
So the old guy judged people by appearance, too.
"Don't worry, old-timer. There's no one around here who can take us down. We're great pirates of the sea, after all."
Jora said it with rock-solid confidence.
They asked the man the direction to Rainbase and then departed, learning that the journey from their current location would take about three days.
Perched atop the camels, bouncing and swaying, they took in the unchanging scenery. At first, everyone was mildly interested, but after staring at it long enough, they got thoroughly bored. Nothing but sand and cacti, after all.
"Captain, I really never expected a profession like sand pirates to exist," Jora remarked from his camel, marveling at how the world was full of surprises.
"What's so strange about that? If you went to the North or South Pole, you'd probably find ice pirates too," Shirakawa answered. He remembered there was a type of icebreaker ship in this pirate world, a vessel that could sail through the frozen sea.
"Captain, how do you know? You've seen them before?"
"I'm just guessing."
"Oh. I thought maybe you had." Jora sounded a little disappointed.
"I really want to see what these sand pirates look like."
"What they look like? Probably just like you—two arms, two legs, one nose, one mouth," Euristine teased.
"No kidding. You saying you're different?"
Jora shot Euristine a flat look.
"I am the same. It's just that mine here is a lot more high-spec than yours." Euristine pointed at his own head.
"What, you wanna throw down with me?"
Jora half-drew both his blades.
"Heh, no plans for that." In this blistering heat, the last thing Euristine wanted was to move. Work up a sweat and you'd end up stinking to high heaven.
"Then don't say stuff that's asking for a beating."
"Fine, fine."
Maybe it was the brutal heat, but the crew's moods were getting prickly—especially Jora, whose temper was already on the short side to begin with.
Just then, Euristine's expression sharpened. In an instant, he drew his gun and aimed downward, slightly ahead.
"What is it?"
"Something's coming."
"If something's coming, aim ahead. What're you aiming at the ground for? The heat frying your brain? You want me to share some water with you?"
"It's coming from underground."
Hearing the exchange between Euristine and Jora, Shirakawa half-suspected the heat had fried Jora's Observation Haki right out of commission.
"But is it really that hot? I haven't felt a thing," Shirakawa said, puzzled.
If it weren't for the faintly shimmering aura of the Sanctuary spread around him, everyone might've actually believed him.
As I thought, the Sanctuary ability is absurdly convenient. Shirakawa couldn't have been more pleased with himself.
"Captain, how about you expand that Sanctuary of yours a bit and cover us, too?"
Jora's face twisted into a fawning grin.
"Heh, nice try. This is training for you people, got it? Especially you, Jora. I'll leave that incoming thing to you. You've got so much heat right now, it'll be a good way to blow off steam."
"No, please, Captain!" Jora was practically on the verge of tears.
Being cold was one thing—he could handle that. But when it got hot, he just couldn't take it.
/-\
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