"Boss! Boss...!"
A series of muffled, earth-shaking shouts echoed from the distance, breaking Jack's post-training reverie.
Jack looked up, wiping the sweat from his eyes. Coming toward him were two absolute mountains of men. Both stood well over four meters tall, their massive silhouettes blotting out the sun as they barreled through the valley. They moved with a clumsy, heavy-footed energy that made the ground tremble.
"Alf, Alger! What's with all the screaming?" Jack shouted back, his voice tinged with fond annoyance. "You're going to cause a landslide if you keep running like that."
The two giants skidded to a halt in front of Jack, kicking up a cloud of dust. They dropped their hands to their knees, huffing like steam engines. Alf, the slightly older-looking of the two, was the first to find his breath.
"Boss... our... our ship! It's ready!"
The lazy, relaxed look in Jack's eyes vanished instantly. He straightened his back, a wide, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Really? Barton actually finished it? That was faster than I expected! Where is she? Tell me she's in the water!"
Alger, the younger twin, grinned broadly, his expression radiating a simple, childlike joy. "She's at the dock, Boss! The old man already pulled some strings to get the townies to help launch her. So... are we leaving tomorrow? Are we finally going to the Grand Line?"
"Setting sail tomorrow without any supplies?" Jack barked, though he couldn't hide his amusement. "Do you two think this is a Sunday stroll in the park? We're going to the most dangerous sea in the world!"
"But Boss, I thought-" Alf started to protest.
"Quiet!" Jack cut him off with a mock-roar that made Alf swallow his words instantly.
Alf's wide, bear-like eyes blinked in confusion, and he looked at Jack with an expression of pure, wounded innocence. Looking at the two of them, two massive powerhouses with the combined mental complexity of a golden retriever, Jack didn't know whether to laugh or cry. They were his "Dynamic Duo of Dimwits," and as much as they gave him a headache, he knew he couldn't find more loyal companions in all the South Blue.
"Stop talking nonsense," Jack said, waving them forward. "Let's go. We'll inspect the ship first, and then I'll give you your orders. Move it!"
Jack took off toward the southern half of the island, his silver hair flashing in the sun. Alf and Alger exchanged a quick, confused glance before roaring in excitement and charging after him.
The duo were eighteen-year-old twins whom Jack had encountered three years ago. At the time, Jack had been working as muscle for a local merchant guild when they crossed paths with the Iron Rope Pirates. Jack had dismantled the crew single-handedly, but he had been shocked to find two giants serving as "interns" for such a bottom-tier pirate group.
As it turned out, Alf and Alger had joined the pirates for the simplest reason possible: they were hungry. The Iron Rope captain had promised them three square meals a day, and the two simpletons hadn't even asked for a share of the loot. They were essentially serving as world-class thugs in exchange for bread and soup.
Jack wasn't about to let talent like that go to waste. He had "sweet-talked" them, which mostly involved beating them in a wrestling match and promising them better food and brought them back to Twin Island. Over the last three years, he had trained them, fed them, and integrated them into his plans. They were strong, durable, and completely devoted to him. To Jack, they were the perfect foundation for a crew.
The trio reached the southern docks in record time. There, bobbing gently in the freshwater river that gave the island its name, was a brand-new caravel.
It was a beautiful vessel. A massive, stylized five-pointed star was carved into the reinforced timber of the bow, and the mainmast stood tall and proud against the horizon. Jack walked a slow circle around the dock, his eyes scanning every inch of the hull.
A burly, middle-aged man with skin the color of tanned leather walked up to them, wiping grease from his hands with a rag. This was Barton, the island's premier shipwright.
"Mr. Jack," Barton said, a proud smile breaking through his beard. "We put everything we had into this girl. She's built from high-grade South Blue oak, reinforced with ironwood ribs. She's as sturdy as they come."
Jack clapped a hand on Barton's shoulder, feeling the solid weight of the man's craftsmanship. "You did good, Barton. Real good."
"Come on up, let me show you the layout," Barton said, leading them across the gangplank.
"She's eighteen meters stem to stern," Barton explained as they stepped onto the deck. "Three decks in total, including the cargo hold below the waterline. I know you like your firepower, so I installed a heavy-bore swivel cannon right behind the star on the bow, and two more on each broadside. That's five guns in total, enough to make any Marine scout think twice."
He led them through the interior. "Two main bunkrooms here for the crew, a fully equipped galley on the side, and a storage hold that can keep meat fresh for weeks. The upper deck houses the Captain's cabin, a small war room, and two extra berths for guests or future officers."
Jack listened intently, nodding as he ran his hand over the polished wood of the meeting table. He could already see himself sitting here, charting a course through the New World.
"Perfect," Jack said. "Barton, you've exceeded my expectations. Don't worry about the rest of the tour; I'll get the feel of her myself. Go see Mayor Compton; I've already left the final chest of Berries with him for your payment."
"Much appreciated, Mr. Jack! Good luck on the high seas!" Barton waved and headed back toward the town.
Once they were alone, Jack turned to the giants. "Alright, you two. This is where the real work starts. Alf, Alger, get back to town. I want this ship stocked to the rafters. Hardtack, flour, salted meat, and as much fresh water as the barrels can hold. Fill the kitchen and the warehouse. And I mean fill it. We aren't coming back for a long time."
"Don't worry, Boss!" Alger shouted, thumping his massive chest. "You can trust us to handle the eats!"
Jack watched them run off, shaking his head. "What kind of brains do they have in those massive skulls? Do they even know how much they eat? We're going to need a second ship just for their snacks."
He turned back to the bow, looking out at the mouth of the river where it met the vast, sparkling ocean. A surge of pure, unadulterated ambition welled up in his chest. He threw his head back and let out a hearty, booming laugh. The adventure was finally beginning.
Later that evening, Jack made his way back through the town.
"Oh, Jack! I heard the ship is finished! You're really leaving us, aren't you?" called out an old woman hanging laundry.
"Be careful out there, kid!" a fisherman shouted from his porch. "The sea is a cruel mistress, don't go losing your head to some pirate captain!"
"Make sure you come by the square before you leave, Jack! We're throwing you a send-off feast!"
Jack felt a pang of genuine warmth. These people had looked after him when he was just a confused, transmigrated soul in a dying boy's body. He stopped and bowed deeply to the residents, a wide, confident smile on his face.
"Thank you all for everything! But don't you worry about me, I'm fond of my life, and I've got big plans. I'm going to be a legend! When you hear my name in the news, make sure you tell everyone I started right here on Twin Island!"
"Listen to him brag!" laughed a woman in a floral top. "Go on then, hero. Old man is waiting for you at the hillside."
Jack nodded and made his way to the outskirts of town. Perched on a gentle slope overlooking the sea was a small, weather-beaten wooden house. An old man with snow-white hair and a permanent slouch sat in a rocking chair by the door, sipping a cup of tea.
"Old man," Jack said, leaning against the porch railing. "I can pull off a Flying Slash now. The ship is in the water, and the boys are stocking the larder. We're leaving in a few days."
The old man didn't look up immediately. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea before speaking in a dry, raspy voice.
"I've taught you everything I know, Jack. Don't go out there and disgrace my name. Back in the New World, I used to trade blows with the likes of Roger and the Golden Lion. If you get taken out by some East Blue nobodies, I'll come to the afterlife just to kick your ass."
Jack rolled his eyes and started picking at his ear. "Yeah, yeah. How amazing you are. Truly, the hidden king of the seas. But if you were such a big shot, how come you aren't one of the 'Three Legends' everyone talks about? Honestly, old man, if I had a Berry for every time you told that story, I could buy the Red Line."
The old man choked on his tea, his face turning a shade of indignant red. "You ungrateful brat! I was there! I saw the Oro Jackson with my own eyes! I-"
"Save it for the birds, old man!" Jack laughed, turning to walk away. "I'm going to go make some history of my own. Try not to die of boredom before the news reaches you!"
"Get out of here! Just looking at you makes my blood pressure spike!" the old man barked, though as Jack walked away, the old man's anger softened into a gaze of quiet, melancholy pride. He watched Jack's retreating figure until the silver hair disappeared into the twilight, his mind lost in memories of a sea that was about to get a lot more interesting.