The docks of Grove 27 were much more calm than the chaos they had left behind in Grove 50.
The mangrove roots rose like giant pillars from the water, their enormous trunks arching overhead while glowing bubbles drifted lazily through the air. Ships of all shapes and sizes were anchored along the port here, merchant vessels, pirate ships.
But one ship stood out.
Adam slowed his steps slightly as he spotted it.
The hull had already been coated in the thick, glossy resin used for deep-sea travel. The bubble layer reflected the light of the sun.
Ready for Fish-Man Island.
Adam's red eyes rose toward the flag fluttering from the mast.
A crude saw-shaped emblem.
He exhaled quietly.
"That must be the ship."
Anna followed his gaze and nodded.
"Yeah," she said. "That's the one."
The docks around it were oddly empty.
No crew.
No guards.
No shouting pirates preparing to leave.
Just the quiet creaking of wood against the water.
The pirates they fought turned out to be the entire crew, they did not leave a single one behind to guard the ship.
Adam jumped up, his boots landed with a dull thud on the coated surface.
The coating gave the deck a faintly glossy shine beneath his feet.
Anna climbed aboard right after him, landing a little less gracefully.
She crouched slightly, running a hand along the surface of the deck.
Her fingers slid over the bubble.
"Nice work…" she muttered, inspecting it. "This coating job is actually really clean."
Then
A calm voice answered.
"Thank you for the kind words. I did my best after all."
Both of them froze.
Adam's head snapped toward the sound.
Anna spun around instantly.
Neither of them had sensed anyone.
Not footsteps or movement, nothing.
A man stood near the mast casually wiping his hands with a white towel.
Like he had been there the whole time.
Adam saw him first.
And his eyes widened immediately.
Anna's reaction came a split second later.
Her mouth opened.
"…that's…"
Her voice failed.
Her hand moved almost on instinct.
Steel drawn from its sheath.
She drew her sword.
But the blade trembled in her grip.
"Th-that's… that's…"
Her brain refused to finish the sentence.
Adam stared.
That's 'Silvers Rayleigh…'
Silver hair framing a calm face.
Round glasses.
An easy, almost amused expression.
A man who carried himself with confidence.
Rayleigh finished wiping his hands and draped the towel casually over his shoulder.
Then he smiled.
"This ship belongs to a certain pirate captain," he said thoughtfully.
He tapped his chin as if trying to remember.
"What was his name again… Marley?"
He shrugged.
"Ugh, I forgot."
Rayleigh glanced casually around the empty deck.
"It seems they won't be setting sail anymore since you two are here."
He sighed lightly.
"What a shame."
His eyes drifted toward the distant docks.
"Though with their skills they wouldn't have made it past Fish-Man Island anyway."
Adam blinked once.
'I said that as well…'
Beside him, Anna's sword was still raised.
Shaking.
Adam glanced sideways at her.
Her knuckles were white around the hilt.
Her breathing shallow.
Every Marine in the world knew that name.
Silvers Rayleigh.
The Dark King.
Right hand of the Pirate King himself.
Adam rubbed his forehead briefly.
Then sighed.
"Sheath your sword, Anna."
She stared at him in disbelief.
"But.. Adam.."
"Goddammit," he muttered under his breath. "Do as I say."
He gave her a look.
"Do you really think we stand a chance against him?"
Anna swallowed.
Adam continued calmly.
"Besides… he's a retired pirate."
Rayleigh chuckled.
A warm, amused laugh.
"I wish the World Government shared your opinion," he said.
"My bounty isn't frozen, you know."
Adam shrugged.
"Well," he said casually, "the great World Government has more important matters to deal with than a retired old man."
Rayleigh's eyes narrowed slightly.
He studied the young Marine carefully now.
"You said that in a sarcastic way," Rayleigh said slowly.
"Don't like your employer?"
Anna glanced nervously between them.
Adam looked away toward the water.
"…Let's just say," he said quietly, "I see things differently."
He shrugged faintly.
"My sense of justice isn't something they'd appreciate."
Rayleigh watched him for another few seconds.
Then smiled slightly.
"Interesting.."
The old pirate picked up a small tool bag resting near the mast.
"Well," Rayleigh said casually, turning toward the side of the ship, "my work is done here."
He glanced back over his shoulder.
"And I'm not paid to guard their ship."
He tapped the rail lightly.
"Not part of the service."
His eyes flicked briefly to Adam.
"So do what you must, young Marine."
Then he added casually
"Adam, right?"
Adam froze slightly.
Rayleigh smiled warmly.
"Good luck."
And then
He simply hopped off the ship.
No dramatic exit.
Just an old man leaving work.
He landed lightly on the dock below and began walking away through the mangrove shadows as if none of it mattered.
Anna stared after him.
Her legs gave out.
She collapsed onto the deck with a dull thud.
"…I think… I think my heart stopped," she wheezed.
Adam leaned on the railing slightly, watching the white-haired figure disappear into the distance.
'Silvers Rayleigh…'
One of the most dangerous men alive.
And he had just… walked away.
Adam exhaled slowly.
Then turned.
"Stay here, Anna."
She looked up weakly.
"I'll check the captain's quarters."
Anna didn't even try to stand.
"…I don't think I can stand up anyway..."
Adam nodded.
Then walked toward the cabin door.
His heart beat slightly faster now.
The door to the captain's quarters creaked softly as Adam pushed it open.
The room was small.
Cramped.
Barely large enough for a narrow bed, a desk bolted to the floor, and a few storage chests stacked against the wall. The faint smell of salt and old wood filled the air, mixed with the stale scent of cheap alcohol.
Adam stepped inside slowly.
His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor.
For a moment, he simply looked around.
"Wow," he muttered dryly.
He ran a hand through his red hair.
"The great treasure of a 50-million-berry pirate."
His eyes swept the room.
A pile of messy maps on the desk.
A cracked log pose.
Two empty rum bottles rolling slightly with the movement of the ship.
A drawer half-open revealing nothing but loose coins and crumpled papers.
Adam frowned.
"No wonder they need money.."
He moved further inside, checking under the desk, then opening one of the storage chests.
Clothes.
More clothes.
A moldy loaf of bread.
"Impressive," he murmured.
Then his gaze fell on it.
A small chest sitting alone near the bed.
Old wood.
Faded metal corners.
Barely the size of a shoebox.
Adam approached slowly.
"…That must be it."
He crouched down in front of it.
The chest looked incredibly ordinary.
Too ordinary.
He turned it slightly.
No markings. No lock.
Adam raised an eyebrow.
"That's it?"
He tapped the lid once with his finger.
Nothing.
He leaned back slightly, skeptical.
"I swear," he muttered to himself, "if that pirate led me here because of some stupid sentimental trinket…"
He reached for the lid.
Then
Something felt wrong.
Adam froze.
The world around him suddenly felt… quiet. too calm. The faint creaking of the ship.
The distant sound of waves.
Even the muffled noise from the docks outside.
All of them seemed to disappear.
Like someone had turned down the volume of reality for him.
Adam blinked slowly.
"…What the…"
His hand hovered above the chest.
A strange sensation crawled through his chest.
Like an invisible thread had wrapped around his mind.
Pulling him towards what's inside the chest.
To Open it.
Adam frowned.
He tried to pull his hand back.
But instead
His fingers touched the lid.
And slowly lifted it.
The hinges creaked softly.
The chest opened.
Adam leaned forward slightly.
Then his eyes widened.
"…That's…"
Inside the chest sat a single object.
Round.
Roughly the size of a large apple.
Its surface twisted into unnatural spiral patterns that wrapped around the fruit like whirlpools.
The skin was dark.
With a deep, almost ink-like violet.
The stem curled strangely at the top.
Adam stared.
"…No way."
His heart began to beat faster.
His hand slowly reached inside the chest.
His fingers wrapped around the fruit.
It felt heavier than it looked.
Rough.
He lifted it carefully out of the box.
Adam turned it slowly in his hand.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"…A Devil Fruit?"
For a moment he just stared at it.
Every memory he had of One Piece came flooding back instantly.
The powers.
The absurd abilities that ruled this world.
Logia. Zoan. Paramecia.
The fruits of the sea itself.
Adam exhaled slowly.
"So that's why they wanted to sell this…"
/-\
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