The Butcher Pirates' ship had been raided by its own crew's vices. Most of the men, flush with cash from their recent plunder, had swarmed the island's brothels and bars, leaving only a skeleton crew behind.
A single oil lamp flickered on the bow, glowing faintly like a dying firefly. The two crew members left on night watch were slumped against the railing, dead drunk and snoring loudly enough to wake the dead—but not enough to wake themselves.
Pirates are all like this, Darian thought, shaking his head. No discipline. He finally understood how Nami, a teenager without superpowers, had managed to steal nearly 100 million Berries. The competition was just that incompetent.
Nami, a seasoned veteran of theft, wasted no time. She led Darian through the ship, moving like a ghost.
"Damn it," she hissed after the third empty room. "How is there not a single Berry left?"
"Shh!" Darian pressed a finger to his lips, his heart racing. "Nami, keep your voice down. You'll wake them up."
Nami rolled her eyes. She was bold to the point of arrogance, while Darian felt like he was walking on a tightrope over a shark tank.
When they entered the crew's quarters, Nami completely ignored two pirates sleeping in hammocks. She brazenly rifled through their pockets while they snored inches away.
Darian watched, terrified. Seeing his nervous, sweaty face, Nami felt a surge of irrational irritation. She reached up and bonked him on the head.
Thump!
It is said that Nami possesses a special kind of Haki that can hurt even rubber men. Darian, being made of normal flesh and bone, instantly developed a comical bump on his head.
"Why are you so jumpy?" she whispered aggressively. "You're making me nervous! Look, this is taking too long. You go check the storage room in the back. I'll finish up here and check the captain's quarters."
Rubbing his throbbing head, Darian nodded dumbly. "Okay. Be careful."
"Just go!"
Creak.
Darian slipped away, carrying a small, shielded kerosene lamp. He found the supply storage room near the stern and pushed the heavy door open.
It was disappointing. The room contained only a few dusty sacks, several overturned barrels, and some wooden crates piled in the corner. It smelled of rot and stale beer. Darian sighed. He couldn't understand why Nami thought there would be treasure in a pantry, but he didn't argue with the boss.
Back in the hallway, Nami watched Darian disappear into the dark. Her expression of impatience vanished, replaced by a cold, serious focus.
Don't be fooled by her casual demeanor. Nami knew exactly what she was doing. She had sent Darian away for two reasons.
First, a rookie would only get in the way of the real heist.
Second... if things went south, she didn't want him in the line of fire. If she got caught, maybe he could still slip away in the chaos.
Nami knew pirate economics well. The crew spent their shares immediately on booze and women. But the Captain? The Captain always took the lion's share, and he usually kept it close.
The light in the Captain's cabin was still on. That meant Captain Bakal—a man with a 15 million Berry bounty—was inside.
Arlong was terrifying, but he was family business. Bakal was a wildcard. Nami took a deep breath, steeled her nerves, and crept toward the lit window.
Inside, the cabin was brightly lit. On a massive bed, a burly giant of a man—easily two meters tall—was fast asleep. He was sprawled out, snoring like a chainsaw, with three women from the island sleeping beside him.
Nami ignored the naked bodies. Her eyes locked onto something far more attractive: a heavy chest tucked under the desk.
It was reinforced with iron bands and secured with a padlock the size of a fist. Jackpot.
Nami's eyes turned into Berry symbols. She waited a full minute, timing Bakal's breathing, before she silently unlatched the window.
Meanwhile, inside the storage room.
Darian sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. He had opened every crate and sack. Nothing but moldy hardtack and empty bottles.
"Just my luck," he muttered.
He opened the final wooden crate, hoping for at least something edible. The ship hadn't resupplied yet, so the crate contained mostly shriveled, rotten fruit. Buried at the bottom, however, was a strange, long vegetable. It looked like a cucumber, but oddly preserved.
"Better than nothing," Darian whispered. His throat was parched.
He reached in and grabbed it.
Thump!
Darian froze. The vegetable... twitched.
Thump! Thump!
It wasn't his imagination. The thing in his hand was pulsating like a living heart.
Under the dim light of the lantern, Darian watched in horror and fascination as the green skin of the fruit flushed a vibrant pink. The texture shifted, rippling as if alive, and intricate, swirling arabesque patterns—the signature of the Devil—began to etch themselves across the peel.
The transformation lasted ten seconds.
Darian stood there, mouth agape, holding a newly reborn Devil Fruit.
"No way..." he breathed. "Is this... is this my cheat code?"
It was rod-shaped, pink, and swirled with mystical patterns. It looked bizarre, even for a Devil Fruit. But the power radiating from it was undeniable.
Darian's hands trembled with excitement. He opened his mouth to take a bite—
BOOM!
A massive explosion of wood and glass shattered the silence of the night, followed instantly by a girl's terrified scream.
"KYAAA!"
"Nami!"
Darian didn't think. He didn't weigh the risks. He didn't consider his lack of combat skills.
Clutching the Devil Fruit in one hand and the lantern in the other, he kicked the storage door open and sprinted toward the bow.
He burst onto the main deck just in time to see the carnage.
The wall of the Captain's cabin had been blown apart from the inside out. Nami was slumped on the deck, clutching her bleeding shoulder, her face pale with terror.
Next to her, one of the women from the cabin lay motionless, spitting blood.
And stepping out of the wreckage, radiating a murderous aura, was the towering silhouette of Butcher Bakal.
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