...
I should trust my gut more, cause the lessons were NOT over.
Allow me to properly introduce, Captain Isolde Vale, and yes, I only just actually learnt her first name this morning, with this morning being the day after our "first lesson". I was still tossing up the image in my head.
I'm not a psychopath nor without emotion; I don't LIKE to kill or watch people get killed. I'm not naive enough to think that in a world like One Piece, I could avoid it, especially with the goal of being the strongest. But I just couldn't get this bad vibe from her now.
My first impression of her was simple.
Scary hot.
A very dangerous combination for a young man with poor self-preservation instincts and a body currently speedrunning itself to…something. At first, I think she's just one of those tough-love types.
Maybe even a tsundere. (￣y▽,￣)╭
…Don't look at me like that. I'm going through puberty.
Vale clearly has this toughness. Plenty of it. If toughness is a taxable product, Shellstown, shit, the whole East Blue, solves its entire budget problem off her personality alone.
The love part?
Yeah.
Not really seeing it so far.
...
A few hours later, I was with a group of other recruits patrolling around the town when we came across one of the village elders complaining to Captain Vale. I couldn't clearly hear what he'd said, but I heard something about supplies.
He was clearly upset, though, and I got closer to eavesdrop.
"You are protected," Vale says. "Your boats are not burned. Your children are not dragged screaming onto pirate decks. Your women do not wake to foreign flags over your harbor. Your men return from fishing with their hands still attached."
The elder's jaw tightens.
Vale leans closer.
"That is what you paid for."
"And the grain?"
"Is what you will pay to keep it that way."
Huh?
The conversation didn't last longer than that, and they parted ways, but I was left contemplating whether she was being bribed. Ah, who am I kidding, she's definitely corrupt. But who am I to judge, given I'm planning to betray the Marines eventually anyway?
Though to what extent she was dirty was still to be seen.
"What are you standing around for, Voss?" A voice rang out.
Oh, speak of the devil. I did the usual salute.
"Nothing Ma'am just thinking" I replied.
She raised her brow, "Sure~ I have something I want to show you, come with me."
Oh~?
...
The atmosphere was tense, and Vale was sitting at her desk, flicking through some papers, not saying a word. I opened my lips to speak, but no words came out.
I really wanted to leave.
Vale then placed her papers down, resting her chin on her hand, the other hand tapping the desk. "You are strong, Voss. Stronger than anyone your age has any right to be. Stronger than some officers twice your age. And still, you stand there with that look on your face because you haven't accepted what strength is for."
I looked down at her fingers. If this becomes a speech, I might actually kill myself.
"Strength is not for comforting people. It is not for making yourself feel clean. It is not for saving every trembling fool who looks at you with wet eyes and empty hands. Strength is for deciding what happens next, whether the world approves or not."
This reads like a villain monologue. It was always this regurgitated sermon that every cruel person or character eventually writes for themselves so they can sleep at night. The world is harsh, so I get to be harsher. People are weak, so I get to break them. Mercy is childish, restraint is cowardice, empathy is a disease, and somehow all of this conveniently means I get to do exactly what I wanted anyway.
Don't lie to yourself bud.
"You're quiet," Vale said.
"I'm learning, Captain." I lied.
"Are you?"
"Yes."
"What did you learn?"
I met her eye.
"Those people who talk about strength the most usually need it to excuse something."
Vale did not immediately answer. She smirked and scoffed, "Interesting answer."
Then she reached into her coat and pulled out a folded letter sealed with red wax. She placed it against my chest, holding it there until I took it.
"Orders," she said.
I looked at the seal.
Not local.
Branch command.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I've been summoned to meet with Commodore Nelson in two weeks. If the discussion goes well, I'll be reassigned." She says, leaning into the back of her chair.
"And me?"
"You'll come with me."
Yes! Thank fuck! Finally, time to move up the ladder. I'd honestly thought I'd be here till canon started with the pace I was going at.
Vale watched me carefully.
She stood up, came around the desk, and reached up to smooth a loose strand of white hair back from my face. The gesture was so casually familiar that I went completely still.
She said softly. "My clever little monster."
I stared at her. What the fuck is she on? I held my tongue, though. She was my ticket outta here, and I wasn't gonna ruin that. And so, after that uncomfortable encounter, I returned to the gym to work out, strategise, or something.
...
A few days had now passed, and I was now attached to Vale's hip.
She'd been making me do more internal things like fetching her drinks, food, or documents. Not like I could just say no and blow my chances; she did promote me to Petty Officer, though I do feel like her bitch right now.
It was on this particular morning when a large merchant ship arrived at Shellstown, and I was in Vale's office dropping off reports. When I set it down on her desk, I notice the corner of a folded note sticking from beneath one of the ledgers.
Normally, I would ignore it.
Normally.
Unfortunately, I am curious, nosy, and currently standing inside the office of a woman who has been giving off more red flags than a pirate fleet.
So naturally, I glance at the hallway first.
Empty.
Then I close the door behind me.
Dumb decision time.
I shift the ledger with one finger, just enough to read the note.
At first, it looks like a regular list. Names. Numbers. Payments. Nothing crazy. Very boring fraud-core paperwork. Then my eyes catch one name I recognise, the same village elder from a few days ago.
Beside his name is a number.
Then another note.
Protection fee received.
Beneath that, written smaller.
Medicine provision is denied until the second payment clears.
I stare at it.
For a second, my brain does that thing where it loads and loads and loads, but nothing opens. Like an old computer trying to run modern software while screaming internally.
Medicine?
Why the hell is medicine listed under protection fees?
I move the ledger a little more, and that is when I see the berries beneath it.
Not a ridiculous amount. Not pirate treasure. Not the kind of money that makes people laugh like evil rich uncles in anime. But enough.
My stomach twists. This does not smell like pirate or marine money.
This smells like poor people getting squeezed until the coins fall out.
I put the ledger back exactly how I found it.
Very carefully, a good thing to cause the door to fly open.
It's Vale.
"There you are, what's taking you so long?" She says, raising a brow before waving her hand, "Doesn't matter, I need you in the yard."
"The yard?"
"A disciplinary matter."
Fantastic.
Love those.
Nothing suspicious ever happens when someone like Vale says a disciplinary matter.
I follow her out.
...
The yard is filled with hundreds of marines, all doing their own drills and jobs. It's actually the yard where Zoro was held by Captain Morgan.
Anyways. I noticed a group of marines surrounding the centre, and Vale was leading me there; the sight was anything but pleasant.
It was two Marines next to a kid. He looked incredibly roughed up. Very thin and barefoot with hair stuck to his forehead from sweat. I didn't know his name, but I recognised him.
Not by name, but by face. One of the village kids who runs near the docks, always carrying baskets too big for him, always dodging adults and large crowds.
One Marine has him by the collar.
The other is holding a little cloth bundle.
The kid stumbles, catches himself, then gets shoved down hard enough that his knees hit the dirt.
I stop walking.
Vale does not.
She continues to the steps, turns, and folds her arms.
"Continue, Voss."
I look at her.
Then at the kid.
Then at the bundle.
"No," I say. "What's going on?"
A few Marines look at me, and Vale's eye shifts slightly.
One of the Marines holding the boy answers. "Thief."
The kid snaps his head up. "I didn't steal!"
The Marine yanks him back by the collar. "Shut up."
"I didn't!"
Vale descends the steps slowly.
The whole yard goes quiet without anyone being told.
She stops in front of the kid.
"What was taken?"
The second Marine holds up the bundle.
"Medicine powder from the supply store, Captain."
There it is again.
Medicine.
The boy's face crumples, not fully crying yet, but close. "My sister's sick."
Ah.
Of course. Of course, this is where the day is going.
Vale's expression doesn't change.
"Was it paid for?"
The boy swallows hard. "My mum already paid."
The yard goes still.
He keeps talking fast, desperate, like he thinks speed can save him.
"She paid last month. She gave the berries to the Marines. She said if Mira got worse, we could get help. She said Captain Vale promised we could get medicine if we needed it."
I didn't say anything, I just listened to him, holding in my frustration.
Vale steps closer to the boy and crouches in front of him.
"What is your name?" she asks.
The boy hesitates. "Toma."
"Toma," Vale repeats. "You believe your mother's payment entitles you to Marine supplies?"
"She paid for help."
"No," Vale says. "She paid for protection."
"That means help."
His voice cracks on the last word.
Vale tilts her head.
"My sister will die," Toma says.
"Then your mother should have saved enough to buy medicine."
Clink.
"She paid you," he whispers.
Vale stands.
"And now you are accusing a Marine captain of extortion in her own yard."
Vale looks at the Marines holding him.
"Make an example of him."
Toma goes pale.
One of the Marines hesitates.
Just a second.
Vale's smile disappears.
"Now."
The marine grabs one thick wooden baton and raises it into the air.
Though it never lands, I appear in front of him, catching it.
For a second, the yard just stops. The marine holding the baton looks at his own arm first, then at my hand around the wood, then at my face, like the order of events is refusing to arrange itself properly in his head. Toma stays curled in the dirt with both arms over his head, still waiting for the hit, and I can hear his breathing from where I stand.
Vale's eye shifts to me.
"Voss."
Her voice is calm, but the yard reacts to it anyway. Boots scrape against the dirt. A few rifles lower without fully aiming. Nobody knows if this is discipline, rebellion, or the part where everyone pretends they were just following orders.
The marine tries to pull the baton free.
It does not move.
He pulls harder.
Still nothing.
I look at him, then at the baton, then at the kid beneath it. Toma's face is dirty, his lip is split, and his fingers are still reaching toward the little cloth bundle even while he's curled up. He doesn't reach for a weapon. He reaches for the medicine.
Clink.
The heat in my chest drops all at once. Not gone but just pressed down and packed tight. My fingers loosen for half a breath, then tighten again until the wood starts to creak.
Vale's expression does not change.
"Let go, Voss", she says.
I turn my head toward her properly.
My plans of promotion flash through my head, a transfer out of Shellstown. A clean path up the ladder with Vale's recommendation pushing me along. It had been right there, close enough to taste, and all I had to do was keep my mouth shut while a bunch of grown men beat a kid for trying to save his sister.
I almost laugh.
Not because it's funny.
Because the setup is insane.
"No," I say.
"You are interfering with discipline."
"This isn't discipline."
The marine holding the baton swallows. I can feel his grip shaking through the wood.
Vale takes one step closer. "He stole from Marine stores."
"His mother paid you."
A few marines look away.
There it is.
That tiny movement.
That little twitch from people who already know what this is and just don't want to be standing near it when someone finally says it out loud.
Vale's face stays still, but her eyes sharpen.
"Careful."
I pull the baton out of the marine's hands.
He stumbles forward, empty fingers closing around nothing.
"Yeah," I say. "I'm done being careful."
I hold the baton up for everyone to see, then crush it in one hand.
Toma flinches. The marine steps back. Someone behind me mutters something under his breath and immediately shuts up when I turn my head a little.
I drop both pieces beside Toma and step in front of him.
"Kid," I say, keeping my eyes on Vale. "Stay down."
He doesn't answer, but he stops moving.
Good enough, I guess.
Vale watches me for a long moment. "You are making a mistake."
"Probably."
"You will throw away your position, your future, and everything I have offered you for a thief?"
I look down at Toma again. His hand is still around the cloth bundle. His knuckles are white.
Then I look back at her.
"For him?" I ask. "I mean partly, also I despise scum like you"
Vale's mouth tightens.
I take one step toward her, "You took their money."
No one moves.
"You promised help."
The marine beside Toma lowers his eyes.
"You denied the medicine."
A second marine near the edge of the yard shifts his weight back.
"And when the kid came to collect what his family already paid for, you called him a thief."
Vale draws her cutlass slowly.
The steel leaves the sheath with a clean sound.
"Enough."
"No, not enough."
My voice carries now, and I don't have to raise it much. The yard is listening for free.
"The elder's grain. The protection fees. The berries under your floorboards. The second ledger in your office." I point at her, not with a weapon, just my hand. "You're not protecting this town. You're milking it."
Vale's eye narrows.
I keep going, cause why not? My neat little plan with the Marines is done, and the weirdest part is that I don't feel as bad as I should.
Clink.
My breathing evens out again.
The mark on my hand feels warm,
Vale says nothing.
"At first, I thought you were just harsh. Mean, sure, but useful. Maybe pirates made you like this, or you had some sad, traumatic childhood."
I step closer.
"But you're not justice."
Her blade angles toward me.
"You're not ordered."
Her jaw tightens.
"You're not even a good Marine."
The yard feels that one.
Vale feels it too.
I smile, "You're just scum with paperwork."
For the first time, her face changes properly.
Her hand tightens around the cutlass.
"You will stand down," she spat, "or you will be put down."
I roll my shoulders once. My hands are empty. Just me standing in a crowd, surrounded by Marines.
"No."
A few marines take a step back before they can stop themselves.
Good.
"I'm going to tear this branch apart," I say. "Your office, your ledgers, your stash under the floorboards, and every rat in this yard who helped you squeeze innocent people and call it protection."
Vale's expression darkens.
I take another step.
"And when I'm done with that?"
My fingers curl.
"I'm going to kill you with my bare hands."
Then Vale smirks, and it stays.
"Such arrogance, you really think yourself strong enough?"
I open my mouth to answer.
Vale vanishes from where she stands.
Not disappears literally, but close enough that my eyes don't keep up. One moment, she is in front of me with her cutlass angled low; the next, she is already inside my reach, coat snapping behind her, blade flashing across my throat before my body even finishes deciding whether to block.
The cut lands clean.
My voice dies in my mouth.
For a second, I don't understand what happened. I only feel the cold line across my neck, then the heat that follows it, then the sudden wet rush spilling through my fingers when my hands clamp around my throat. My knees hit the dirt hard enough to send pain up my legs, but that barely matters because there is blood pouring between my fingers and down the front of my uniform.
The yard pulls away from me.
Sounds turn dull. The marines shouting, Toma breathing somewhere behind me, Vale's boots shifting in the dirt, all of it drops under the pounding in my ears. I try to breathe and get a wet choking sound instead. My fingers press harder against my neck, but the blood keeps coming. Too much. Way too much.
Vale stands above me with her cutlass held at her side.
She doesn't rush, and she doesn't follow up. She just watches me bleed in front of the entire branch, and for a second, I can see it in the marines' faces. The relief. The small, ugly comfort of thinking the problem is handled.
I almost laugh, but it comes out as another wet choke.
Vale leans down slightly, her voice low enough that only the closest marines hear it clearly.
"Useful things should remember who holds them."
My fingers tighten around my throat.
The wheel on my hand twitches.
Vale notices.
Her eye moves down.
Clink.
The sound is small.
Clean.
Final.
My breathing stops fighting me.
The blood still runs for one more second, then slows under my fingers. The torn flesh pulls tight beneath my palms. Heat spreads through my neck, deep and sharp, and the open cut seals itself inch by inch until the pressure under my hands is no longer blood trying to escape, but skin knitting back together.
The yard watches it happen.
No one speaks.
I lower my hands slowly.
Blood covers my fingers, my wrists, my sleeves, and most of my front, but my throat is whole. Not perfect. There's still a red line across it, raw and ugly, but it is closed, and I can breathe.
I inhale once.
It hurts.
I inhale again.
Better.
Then I look up at Vale.
Her smirk is gone.
That, honestly, does more for my mood than the regeneration.
I push myself back to my feet, one hand wiping blood from my chin while the other flexes at my side. The mark on my hand is warm now, and the anger from before is still there, but it isn't shaking loose anymore. It sits still, packed behind my ribs, waiting for somewhere useful to go.
Vale's cutlass rises again.
For the first time, she doesn't look amused.
I grin.
Big.
Bloody.
Stupid, probably.
"Yeah," I say, voice rough but working, "I'd adapt."
Then I lunge at the Marines.
...
End of Chapter!
Word Count - 3299