No matter how the world defines pirates.
A pirate is, first and foremost, a thief—one who sails for riches and stops at nothing to fulfill his ambitions.
If he could choose his identity freely…
Seven wouldn't mind living as a Celestial Dragon in Mary Geoise, waited on by maids, escorted by Marines wherever he went, enjoying endless wealth without lifting a finger.
But there are no what-ifs. Surviving in this pirate world is hard enough; if being a thief is what it takes, so be it.
"Mihawk, I'll be right back."
Mihawk, holding an iced black tea that steamed in the cold, gave a silent nod.
After more than a month, Seven's height hadn't changed much, but his physique was far stronger.
Even without using his Devil Fruit, he could now beat two-and-a-half of his past selves—such was Innate Divine Strength, such was the Big Eater constitution.
No wonder everyone loves hacks.
The first half of the Grand Line is called Paradise.
Still, compared with the four Blues, its climate is brutal—one second calm, the next crackling with lightning.
On the heaving sea, the Black Gorilla Pirates' Captain—code-named "Gorilla," the fat black rogue Gaute—stood triumphant at the prow.
"Lads, bring her alongside! Let's make the Black Gorilla name ring!"
"Ooo-ooo-ooo!!!"
"Gorilla! Gorilla!"
"great treasure! great treasure!"
The Black Gorilla Pirates were the living image of the Great Pirate Age: hordes of pirates, bandits, and refugees pouring into the Grand Line from the four seas.
In a world where nine out of ten can't read, the great treasure lures more than life itself.
Between the two pirate ships, a bolt of lightning closed hundreds of meters in an instant—the Rumble-Rumble Fruit's most basic move: Flash Step.
In speed, only the sleazy fellow who ate the Glint-Glint Fruit can outpace it.
Seven dropped his elemental form and perched on the Black Gorilla's sail. "Oi, I'm right here."
The pirates, gorilla at their head, nearly popped their eyes from their skulls.
"What?!"
"Who are you? When did you get here?"
An old pirate from a bygone era, Seven meant to teach these rookies a lesson.
"Thunder Dragon!"
A dragon of pure lightning dived for the deck; after one pass, only the fat black Captain still stood, fists clenched, chest heaving.
"I'm a gorilla man who ate the Gorilla Fruit—die!"
The fat rogue morphed into a four-meter black-backed gorilla, hammering his chest before charging with a weird gait.
"Animal types," Seven mused. "Tough as nails."
With one fist the gorilla shattered the mast; Seven hovered lightly, kneading the lightning between his hands into a blue blade: Plasma Sword.
A rare chance to face another user—he would gauge his own strength.
Ever since leaving Loguetown, he had challenged Mihawk again and again, but one-sided fights give no data.
The gorilla kicked off the deck and leapt skyward, roaring, "Eight-Step Gorilla Fist!"
Shuk—
Seven copied Roger the Pirate King's stance, swinging the Plasma Sword with everything he had and smashing the gorilla back into the planks.
Looking at the unconscious ape, Seven clicked his tongue. "Innate Divine Strength."
[Innate Divine Strength: you're just that strong.]
It seemed to be a conceptual passive.
If Mihawk fought strength for strength without Armament Haki, Seven now had the edge.
And now he one-shot the gorilla.
"No wonder everyone loves hacks."
Dispelling the Plasma Sword, Seven landed and kicked the stunned pirates awake.
"Men left, women right—line up! This is a robbery!"
The rookie pirates shivered in a row, their mighty Captain—said to rival the Pirate King—sprawled senseless.
Steam still rose from the scorched slash across the gorilla's chest.
"Anyone who can sail, step forward."
No one moved, so Seven booted one pirate into the sea. "None of you can sail? Then why sail the Grand Line?"
Steering a ship should be basic for any crewman.
"Sir, our Captain can sail."
Seven rolled his eyes. "So he's steered the whole way himself?"
"Yes." They nodded frantically.
"Can't sail, can't fight—what use are you?" he grumbled. "Next life, don't follow fools to sea."
Rule one on the outlaw road: leave no loose ends.
You never know which spared brat might become heaven's chosen, come back yelling about bonds and friendship to avenge his mates.
After dumping the lot into the sea, Seven looted the valuables, set an Apple beside the gorilla, and beheaded him with a single slash.
He crouched, waiting.
He was gambling on luck, and this ship was the only one with fruit for miles.
About ten minutes later, the Apple's skin began to show the tell-tale swirls of a Devil Fruit.
"Huh, lucky me."
He stowed the fresh Animal-Type Gorilla Fruit and sold it straight to the system—1,200 points, better than the trading platform's crooked 1,000.
Good thing he'd kept his eyes open.
Two hundred points meant two thousand crates of iced black tea!
"Ding—1,200 points gained. Current balance: 1,266…"
Lightning shattered the Black Gorilla's ship as Seven, now a bolt himself, caught up to Mihawk.
"Mihawk, let's find an island to resupply; we'll reach Jaya Island soon."
The legendary Gold Country and Sky Island were why Mihawk stayed; otherwise, he'd have left to seek stronger foes.
Thanks to the free iced black tea, Mihawk offered a warning.
"If you want your own crew, get a proper pirate ship—this one won't survive the New World's storms."
"True." Seven nodded.
The best vessel would be the Oro Jackson, built by Tom from the adam tree.
But the Oro Jackson was the Pirate King's ship—too flashy for him while he was still weak; keeping a low profile was wiser.
Besides, he planned to turn Sky Island into his base and grow in peace for a while.
With Mihawk at the helm, Seven sat on the deck, eyes on the system's shop window, lost in thought.
[Swordsman Training Manual: 1,000 points]
In truth, his swordplay wasn't bad; a chef and a swordsman share something—one cuts food, the other cuts people.
"Mihawk… do I count as a swordsman yet?"