| Drumlil | ||
| Date Started: 9/8/2024 Date Finished: Ongoing Previous Role-Play: Next Role-Play: TBA Timeline: September, 1620 Setting: Characters Involved:
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| Participants | ||
| User:JTXP • User:Mr.Zeno999 • User:Blackdagger01 • User:Layout7671 • User:Duck4war • User:Yourlocalwreck • User:Rockett121 • User:Lemon Jacks • User:AbysmalShadows • User:HoloArc • User:EmperorKamui | ||
A mysterious location within the New World. Said to hold a relic of the past.
The island was smack in between three major islands and territories. Elbaf, Wano Country, and Amsterdam Kingdom.
From Metropolis a News Paper was sent out to the four corners of the world of a legend known as the God Hammer.
This legend consisted of special weapons of power that could destroy the world itself.
These, weapons of power were called the Exodia Series, a supposed weapon after years of hiding had emerged back into the world.
This newspaper sparked a race between adversaries.
Who will come out on top?A Nobel Place[]
Several Marine vessels carried and escorted one special man. There were at least 100 ships spread across a thick line before arriving at the shores. Sitting in a fancy red leather and woodgrain-looking room, was a man sitting at a fine desk. He was eating steak and mash on a solid gold plate with a fork and knife to match.
Standing at the door were two knights from the Holy Land, dressed in silver armor, holding polearms in their right hand. There was a Vice Admiral in his presence, Hector Hobbs, the eater of the ancient warrior fruit. Hobbs was dressed in an all black attire and said nothing as he watched the noble eat.
The celestial dragon was a middle-aged man in his late forties. He had grey and black slicked-back hair, with a shaggy black goatee. He wore an all black suit with a white collard shirt, the buttons undone to his lower chest. Hanging around his neck was a rosary of twelve painted faces on a pendant. He was rather thin, and lanky, he looked tired the bags under his eyes looked like he lacked sleep.
He ate lively anyways, enjoying every last bite, "These damn slaves done it this time! We found good ones, how much did we have to kill before these guys?" He asked one of the guards, in unison they both answered.
"272, Saint Lawha Benjamin."
"It was worth every penny eh Hobbs? Nowadays these slaves keep going up and up, the supply is running thin for good hands nowadays," Benjamin said stuffing his face with steak and mash.
Hobbs didn't say anything to him, he just looked blank, trying to forget where he was stationed. Hearing someone boast about killing close to 300 slaves for simply cooking food wrong was gut-wrenching. Hobbs took a gulp, his throat dry from the heat of the moment.
"What's the matter? You seem off, don't tell me you've gone soft now Hobbs. You ants are meant to be workers, not slackers," Ben said giggling to himself. "You will get over whatever surface pest virus you have and complete the mission to its fullest capabilities. After this last one you are done, our family quarrels will finally be at an end."
"... Nothing has changed Shinsai, I am whatever you need me to be, I am forever in debited to your cause," the vice admiral said kneeling while holding back a disgusted look.
"Now that's what I like to hear, you are a good dog. After all, stealing my family's fruit is like signing yourself up to be a slave. Foolish really, my father should've just killed you back then but, then again we found have to find it again." Benjamin spoke to Hobbs as if he were less than, and in a World Noble everyone was less than.
Even among the nobles themselves, the Lawha Family were feared in the holy land, and influential politicians and bankers were said to control most of the gold resources in the world.
Another guard entered the room, "We arrived at Mao Jade, my lord."
At the center of the island is where Benjamin and Hobbs found themselves awaiting another noble in question. Anyone who knew of the Lawha Family were sure not to make the judges wait in times of need. It reflected bad upon their names.
Towering over the other people in the first territory of the Jade Kingdom was a woman using a spear to hold herself up while drinking from a bottle. She soon threw it away once she saw two visitors and started walking toward them. “My name is Shih D. Ching, and I'm here to escort you to the Jade Empire if you would allow me the honor.” Her voice was rough, and her body was covered in burn marks and scars. She wasn't dirty; her body showed clear signs of a fighter. This was the Byakko. “If you could please follow me, I'll take you to him,” she said, walking toward what looked like a basket with soda bottles.
"These flies of the world are unpleasant every time," Benjamin said showing clear signs of disgust and horror. It angered him slightly, "From now on creature you will address me as God or Saint. The next time you don't address me as such, my admiral will kill you."
Hobbs looked at the woman with a deathly stare, a glance of a true killer.
The chance to fight an admiral did sound like fun, but even Shih knew when she was outclassed. “Yes, Saint, forgive me. My predecessor didn't educate our region,” she said, her head bowed in apology, avoiding Hob's gaze. “They trusted me with this escort; I'll get it right.” She slowly stood up to lead the way to the basket. “If it pleases the Saint, this will raise us to the center of the kingdom and provides an excellent view of our beautiful country. If not, we can take a leisurely stroll through the kingdom. A path can be prepared where you both will not be interrupted.”
"Good," Benjamin said, awaiting for the escort to bring him to the jade emperor.
Upon arriving, there was a chamber with an attendant who raised her hands and announced, “Presenting the illustrious Saint Jade, savior of Mao Jade.” A bell was presented to the covered bed chamber. “All non-nobles are to turn away, as the God's visage must not be viewed by those who don't hold that title.” Shih went to the west end of the room and turned away, facing the wall. As Saint Jade tapped the bell rapidly from within the chamber, he emerged from his room wearing a beautiful jade mask. Anyone familiar with Morse code could recognize the clicking, but the attendant translated anyway: “He says, ‘What do you need, Saint Benjamin?’”
"Your slaves need to be taught manners Jade, I almost struck that creature down when it spoke to me." Benjamin said. He took a glance around the room, "When will you just sell this piss hole and give it to us? We can make this place better without you idiots running the game," The Lawha said without a care.
He walked toward a terrace, "But I do not come to you today about kingdoms. I come to you today about ancient tales," Benjamin stated.
“She’s… new, and I didn't kill my father just to sell the land. I happen to have big plans for my kingdom,” the attendant said, translating the clicks. Then, a large slave came out to carry Jade, ensuring he never touched the floor, as he was carried to the terrace. “It must be important if you’ve come here wanting to reminisce.”
"Someone has found the Exodia Series and I need help covering that old legend up, my family wishes to not have bad memories of the past resurface again."
“To come here in person and ask this, you must have close ties to these weapons. What do you need? I can then determine my price for helping you. After all, nothing in this world is free,” said the large slave, translating Saint Jade's clicks as the king raised his mask to form the illusion of a smile.
"I need hands on getting those weapons back to the Holy Land, that means you. You've squandered your time on the surface long enough, you've remained idle in the balance of the world and I cannot accept that," He brushed back his hair, "I am not asking you for a favor Jade, I'm telling you to find them. If you know what's good for you then I suggest you get to it."
Benjamin started to walk toward the entrance of the castle, "When you collect me the Exodia I will exhaust Mao Jade to a new glory. Until then, you're on trail by order of the Apostles of Judgement."
“On trial for what? You come to my kingdom, make demands, show no respect for a fellow noble, and then threaten to get your way? No, we will show each other respect, unlike these unruly beasts. We will be civilized. You want these weapons gathered? I can send people to do that, but I need something in return. I need a way to take a new body. If you can do that for me, I’ll help you.”
Benjamin stopped in his tracks, his back turned toward Saint Jade.
"You are nothing to me but a tool. My family has done a great deal in this world to keep the powers in check and in line, yet you question it? How do you think you are?..."
The noble turned his head slowly side eyeing the noble before him, "...You should be wise when speaking to someone of my power in your weakened state, but alas I will forgive you. Civilized. If you wish for a new body, that is no problem, but it comes at a cost, Emperor. The question is if you are willing to pay for it."
A labored breath was taken. “The price has been set, no? You want the Exodia weapon, I’ll send one of my kings to gather it. Don’t worry; they are competent, unlike most,” was translated by the large slave-holding Saint Jade. “Now, be safe on your travels. I shall have Shih escort you to the docks. Do you need any provisions for your trip? Would you like some fine jade as well?”
Benjamin smiled, "Bring someone strong, you'll need the strength. I will see myself out Jade, when you want a body, come see me."
Mary Geoise, Lawha Court Estate
Saint Carranza Asmophel found himself at the front of a large metal gate, with a large letter "L" engraved into its metals. The gate was attached to ten-foot marble slab walls that stretched across the entire block. It was located at the center of Mary Geoise close to the royal palace.
At the gates two knights stood watch and looked at the noble, they turned to each other and nodded. Letting the noble through the gates, revealed a white marble path, trimmed hedges and fine grass lines that showed true signs of elegance and wealth. Of in the distance was a large courtroom house which he had to attend.
In the field were several slaves attending to the maintenance of the yards, these people looked mostly human, rarely any other signs of race. The slaves were dressed in cloth and shackled to the wrist and neck. The noble was escorted by those very two guards towards the courthouse. Even for the average noble you could tell the kind of wealth the Lawha Family had.
Everywhere looked like paradise, at least in the eyes of the dragons. Finally approaching the doorway the two doors opened up with two different looking knights dressed in black armor.
Escorting the dragon inside, they led him to a room with a podium, a mic and a bright light shining upon it.
"Take to the stand," a voice called out.
Asmophel took to the podium, speaking into the mic and the courtroom. His sleazy voice muffled through his greasy mustache, filled with spite and hate. “My fellow dragons! I come to you today in request of a very important matter! I desire a slave, a wife, from the country of Wano! Even through my attempts to earn one myself, my plans were foiled by the vile beasts I called slaves. Join me in a forcible takeover of Wano! We shall all have beautiful Wano wives!!”
"You come to us over a woman," and elderly woman said, shaded in darkness covering her face. "Men are all the same in every race." She kissed her teeth.
"Saint Asmophel, a takeover of Wano isn't as easy as you think. Just stepping foot onto that place is a life risking event," another said this time it was a raspy masculine voice.
"Perhaps this works in our favor..." Benjamin said leaning in his seat, his face shaded in shadow. "...What of the news from the bank?" He asked the woman.
"We have found a location for the bank, however, we are still looking for the builder from Amsterdam." The woman replied.
"There was a woman who went missing under our radar a few decades ago, she ate a fruit belonging to the world government. That whore managed to escape thanks to hell doctor. I swear I could've saw her in a recent flyer..."
The raspy voice spoke up, "Yes Benjamin, her name is Jigoku May, she was last seen with the wildcard waving around his new pirate flag," he passed him a flyer with the picture of Yushin, and May declaring Storming Gale Island.
"Ahh you are right uncle, I never forget a face," Benjamin placed the paper onto the table top. "Asmophel, you will be granted your request of a new slave from Wano. However I do have plans in motion, so you will be coming with us."
There was a CP0 agent that appeared from thin air in front of the noble, his arm extending outward palm facing toward Asmophel. The last thing he saw was the masked agent with a smiling animal mask before being encased in a black void.
"Jugan!" Spurting from his palms was a black sludge, that trapped the noble within a black box.
"Let us set the world in motion... Meeting adjured." Benjamin said slamming his gavel.
Asmophel groaned, unable to see inside the sludgy box. “Let me out you damned bastards!” He shouted, hoping to have himself saved. But it was too no avail. His words failed to break through the box. “I will call an Admiral on you if you don’t do it right this instance!!” The Saint continued to shout at the top of his lungs, unable to realize the situation he was truly in, until he passed out from the lack of oxygen.
He awoke in a darkened room, sitting in the middle of it. He couldn’t make much out other than the corners of the room, his eyes straining to see in the dark. He was on his knees, his hands and mouth bound with cloth. He tried to get out cries for help, but couldn’t through the gag. All that was left was to wait.
KTOK KTOK KTOK
From the darkened room a man with a light emerged from the shadows, it was the same figure wearing the beast mask. "Release!" He said extending his palm outwards releasing the man in his confides.
In the room the CP0 agent and Benjamin stood, the agent standing 2 feet taller then Benjamin. Dirt walls with a singular hanging light a ceiling was the setting of the room they were in. Old blood stains from the previous victims caught in whatever death were stained on the floor and walls were Asmophel sat.
"You are about to play a very crucial part in our game, but first you must prove yourself a worthy candidate," Benjamin said coldly, the noble shifted his gaze towards the agent and nodded his head.
The agent began to walk towards the noble slowly... KTOK KTOK KTOK
”I don’t care you damned agent! Untie me this instant! Or else I will be forced to content with the full night of the marines!” The greasy World Noble shouted at the pair, pushing against his restraints. “I did not allow this to happen! And I refuse to be your candidate!”
He began to wave his hands, a green and black flickering the manifested into a form of fire birthed in his hands. It was conjured from his finger tips and the fire screamed.
As the noble looked upon it his eyes were met with horrific ghoulish faces, skeletons and horrid creatures. "I suggest you don't bite your tongue..." the agent said, "...Satsu Jufu".
The agent threw the flames upon the noble. The flames did not burn but instead tormented him. His skin would bubble and boil, plethora of diseases and curses plagued him. The pain unbearable and agonizing.
This technique was known as the "Killing Curse". This technique is a execution move that kills someone within 10 seconds. However, this technique has been developed and experimented on. The Lawha family had discovered that any living being can survive up to 9 seconds before passing away. Removing the curse before the tenth second will save the person from death.
But this trial was meant to see if he had the will to do their bidding. Not everyone would survive the 9 second mark, its the highest possible time they could.
twisted and writhed, his selfish and bloated body screaming as the flames were cast upon him. Flesh boiled and charred as the heat seared his skin. For the man who had never suffered any hardship, this anguish felt like it was lasting an eternity, yet less than a second had even passed.
The second second arrived, and it brought no relief along with it. The hair along his skin burned away, and the expensive clothing of the World Nobles turned to ashen rags. Through the pain, it stripped the man of his pride of appearance.
With the end of the second, the third made its way. The excruciating pain of the flames continued their fury, burning away the fat and blubber caking the pathetic man’s body. His body produced vast amounts of sweat, but the flames wicked them away just as they made their appearance. He would no longer feel comforted by the gluttonous traits he showed.
The fourth burned at his fingers, scorching and searing them painfully. As he tried to move them, it would fail to work. The nerve endings in his fingers had been lost, stopping him from ever feeling the wealth he greedily sought after again.
In the fifth second, the flames went for his left eye. They scorched it, causing him to painfully go blind in his eye. His eye would never allow him to lustfully or enviously gaze upon things ever again.
The sixth brought with it searing pain sourced at his fatty and underused muscles. The heat licked at them, burning and charring his arms and legs. Through his negligence and laziness, the easy access he had to his legs was gone. Avoiding the sin of sloth would be much harder.
But as the sixth second came to an end, the flames went away. What was left sitting there was no longer the man that had previously been, but one shaped anew. All the traits of World Nobles were gone, and had it not been for the evil look in his right eye, he would be unidentifiable.
The seventh second brought a coldness to his body, turning his skin pale and blue, stiffening up his body like a rock. The eighth second his mind was caught in a hellish fever dream being tormented like the slaves he's treated over the years. In the ninth second, his body felt on the brink of death, a warm feeling. Something that was loving and embracing, was this death? Is this what it was like to die?
Yet the noble would be ripped from that feeling of surrender and brought back into the world, his skin feeling the cool air of the basement chamber. Benjamin looked upon him, "Are you alive?"
Asmophel laid on the ground for just a moment, allowing his eyes and mind to rest. Just like that, the anguish and pain he had gone through was over. For a brief minute, he could have convinced himself the entire ordeal hadn’t even happened. But as he opened his singular eye, he realized it truly had happened. He looked down at his now completely changed body, filled with fear and regret. “Yes.. I guess I am.” The World Noble said to Benjamin.
"Good, welcome to the Apostles, Saint Lawha Asmosphel. Now come with me, we have much work to do."
“Saint Lawha Asmophel…” Asmophel said to himself under his breath. He was.. Appalled. But he didn’t feel bad. He felt youthful, he felt more energetic than before. So he proceeded to continue. “Alright. Thank you.” He said as he stood up, taking the man’s hand.
Giant Leaps[]
Norn stood before the throne looking up at the Dread King, taking a bow she was the first to speak. "Your grace, I am here. What task do you require of me?" The woman spoke with reverence in her voice, head lowered until he gave her permission to raise it.
Thrymr arose as Norn stood before him. "My faithful Norn. I have heard good news. Weapons of great renown... ones thought lost have been sighted. Supposedly they were crafted by a giant of old, the so called 'God Hammer'. I wish to look into these tools, honored weapons by the hands of giants, and seize them for Elbaf."
Approaching the woman, he held out Gungnir. "The tools of giants are expertly crafted and can serve our values well. Gather a team, Norn. Above all giants, I trust you with this mission. The world will be made to remember Elbaf stands at the height of power. You will lead this mission, I've sent Skadi on her own - as much as I would like to see you get along, she is preoccupied with the Badlands. Do you have any questions?"
A Storms Path[]
The Storm Pirates reached their final stop before Drumlil Island. A small island for a resupply, of course, Yushin and his crew took the island over in a few hours, claiming it under their territory. The island only served as a small trading hub for travelers and merchants, Yushin let the people do as they pleased in exchange for half the resources and men.
The people agreed, not like they had any choice to rebel against them, every member of the crew were capable killers. Any sudden moves only meant sudden death. The crew found themselves in a local bar, of course the shithole of an island they now owned was run down the bar was outside on next to a swamp.
The people looked poor and rugged, the average pirate or two would stand out here and there but nothing out of the blue.
"What was the point of taking this dump, you gotta start being more diligent," Byakuro said resting his back upon the bar counter, his elbows on the top he drank a beer.
Yushin rolled his eyes, "Lecture this lecture that! I know what I'm doing," he replied back.
"I have to agree with Byakuro, Yushin." Shikimi spoke up from a seat at the bar only a few feet away, sitting with her seat turned horizontal to the bar so that her elbow rested against it as she used a small knife to peel an orange. "This island is about as backwater as it comes, it feels more like kicking people while they're down if you ask me." She pointed an orange slice at the end of her knife towards him.
"I'm putting my faith in you of course, though filling us in a bit on what you're plotting would go a long way." She finished her say by popping the fruit slice into her mouth.
"Yes have faith in your leader, besides we need places like these, run-down forgotten islands. We might need to hideout someday and having something hidden in plain sight is best," Yushin winked before slamming another bear on the table.
"We should leave soon, this place is starting to bore me. We can leave this place once the rest of the men finish loading the ships."
Ganon, seated near the edge of the bar, was slouched back, eyeing the place with disinterest. He had barely touched his drink. “It ain’t glamorous, but Yushin’s got a point,” he finally chimed in, stretching his arms behind his head. “Places like these won’t draw the attention of the Marines or other crews. No one’s lookin’ for us here, and that’s worth more than gold sometimes.”
"Hmph, didn't think you of all people would be scared of a few marines." Shikimi commented with an upturned nose before letting out a sigh and resheathing the small knife back at her waist. "But I'm all for having a secret hideout, it sounds fun. Almost makes me feel like a kid again, Dodododo!" She chuckled, covering her mouth as she stood up from her seat. "I don't imagine they'll take long so I'll take a walk, fresh air helps to raise the spirits." The woman cheerfully nodded toward Yushin before taking her leave.
Elsewhere, not too far from the Storm Pirates themselves, sat Zonbi Ai. She cracked the yellowed newspaper in her hand, checking to make sure what she had read was correct. She truthfully wasn’t sure what the illustrious “Exodia Series” were, but she had the desire to search for them either way. From what she gathered, they were weapons. And if they weren’t, selling it off would make just as much sense.
She chewed on her fingernail, pressing on through the dense swamp. She was close to the island. She knew that much. But the hours of flight starved her. With any luck, there’d be a bite at the run down settlement up ahead.
The angelic figure tucked the map into her pant pocket, resting her eyes on the building in front of her. Signs of battle decorated the area, but what she assumed to be a bar was still quite active with sounds of people. She stepped into the building.
It turns out she was rather closer to the Storm pirates then expected, she was greeted with a shaggy old bar that stood outside of the side of the muddy road. The stranger with wings stood out among everyone, besides Rakul who was the first to notice.
"Captain, three o'clock," the large man pointed towards the woman with red hair and white wings.
Yushin turned his attention towards her, "Oh, another flying person. Rakul you darty bastard you aint the only one," the captain then cupped his hands around his mouth, "Hey you winged person come here," he said.
Ai scratched her head, looking over at Yushin and his.. Crew. She had expected comments to occur while in the bar, but she didn’t expect anything right out of the gate. Usually she’d be wary around odd ducks like that, but Yushin seemed friendly enough. Perhaps she could take solace in the other winged man in the group as well.
She approached the table, awkwardly bowing to greet the group. She didn’t say anything, but rather waited for someone sitting at the table to tell her what they wanted.
Before Shikimi could leave the sudden appearance of the winged woman surprised her, it was clear she wasn't from around these parts but something about her seemed vaguely familiar. Not the woman herself, but rather the wings that adorned her back. "I don't think they're one in the same, Yushin. This one is a Tengu, tricky little things if you've heard the stories. What one is doing here though, your guess is as good as mine." Shikimi circled around to get a better look at Ai.
"You're a long way from the White Sea, why is that?" She asked Ai directly, curious but cautious. The Tengu Tribe were known for their tricks and traps, some as harmless as a prank and others as deadly as they come.
“Ah. One of those. Smartasses.” Ai thought to herself. She never liked the social stigma of her tribe. But she made do. “Well, admittedly, I’m here on a mission. I got this newspaper,” She pulled out the newspaper from her pocket, showing the yellow parchment to Shikimi, “I’m trying to find this. I’m just here to get supplies before pressing on.” Ai noted Shikimi and Yushin’s attire though. “What brings you samurai all the way over here? Don’t see your folk a lot.”
Shikimi's eyes flickered to Yushin, the woman already having made it clear that her goals and their own aligned. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen, but Shikimi herself did not trust the Tengu Tribe.
"You came all this way based on a silly newspaper story? I will commend your dedication though, most impressive. All the same, we're merely here resupplying. I'm afraid that there isn't much to go around in a small place like this though. You might need to look elsewhere."
As Shikimi spoke, Ganon stretched his legs, deciding it was time to get some air. He pushed open the door to the bar, stepping outside and blinking in the sunlight. His eyes quickly landed on the newcomer—Ai, with her red hair and white wings—and his face lit up with excitement.
Without any hesitation, Ganon trotted over, his usual imposing stature softened by the sheer enthusiasm in his voice. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look at those wings!” He circled around her, taking in every detail. “They’re like… perfect! I’ve never seen wings like this up close—white, strong feathers, and the wingspan! This is incredible!”
“Are you a bird person?!” Ganon asked, eyes wide with excitement as if that was the only thing that mattered. “You know, I love birds! I even trained a whole bunch back in Wano!” He chuckled to himself, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn’t expect to run into someone with wings like yours! Rakul’s are cool too, but yours, they’re incredible!”
“Uh.. Don’t you think that’s a rather weird question to ask a stranger..?” Ai said cautiously to Ganon. The far larger man fangirling around her was odd. But she couldn’t help but blush slightly. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.
“I, uh, thanks. I appreciate it. I work hard to take care of them.” After she addressed Ganon, she turned back to Shikimi.
“And yeah. I came here off of a newspaper story. Truly I’m just exploring. Experience is far more valuable than physical treasure, right?” She straightened the wrinkles out in her shirt. “And I don’t need a lot of supplies. Just a bite to eat. Nothing more.”
Appearing behind Ai, manifesting from a cloud was Yushin, throwing his arm around her and leaning in close, he took the newspaper from Ai, and flicked it towards Rakul, who started to burn it once she was caught.
At this same time the real Yushin placed a set of cuffs onto her wrist, "Don't worry about the treasure sweetheart, let the big kids play and sit back and watch."
Rakul's 15 foot stature towered Ai, he bent over to speak with her, "I'm sorry about your map, you are just like me." He said pointing to his black bird wings.
”Ah, shit.” Ai mumbled. “Shoulda known better than to trust these drunk bastards.” She tested the cuffs. She couldn’t break them apart easily. Seastone. Shit. She ignored Rakul’s sympathy. Uncaring towards the fake pity. She was left in the “care” of these people.
Ganon watched the whole scene unfold, his excitement quickly fading as he realized how overboard Yushin and Rakul had gone. "Hey! Wait a minute!" he exclaimed, stepping forward, his brow furrowed in confusion. "This seems a bit much, don’t you think? I mean she isn't a threat and even if she did try anything I could have killed her instantly"
"I think it's fine, we are snuffing a flame before it spreads," Byakuro said leaning upon a tree nearby, "I think leaving a competitor for the very same thing we are going after is foolish."
Shikimi shook her head, "Ah, while I agree the cuffs are a bit much it's better to be safe than sorry with the ones like them. Watch out for her wings, even if she happens to have some sort of power that cuffs with surpress those wings are still as sharp as any blade." She tapped the side of her head, wondering why she felt like the bad guy in this situation.
"Either way, Tengu, don't put up a fight and no one will have to get hurt. I can promise that much at least. That damn newspaper though, you all think she's the only one that's gonna get in our way?"
"Yeah we are bound to meet a few others, something this grand being announced to the world, is bait for the bigger fish of the seas." Yushin said walking closer to the girl, "Are you alone?"
Ai looked resentfully at Yushin and Shimiki. She wanted nothing less than to slice off her hands and fly away, yet, she still needed that treasure. And she wasn’t even sure if she could get away from these people. They seemed strong after all, and the man with the black wings would most likely be able to hunt her down. So she played along, answering Yushin’s questions. “Yes. From what I know anyway, no one has come here with me.”
Yushin placing his hand on her shoulder smiled and embraced her to his side, "Good, you're rolling with us for the time being alright. Besides, maybe we can use you instead of ya know," Yushin displayed a finger across his throat, and pretended to play dead.
"Let's get off this piss-ass island and get going, we should reach Drumlil in the next few days."
Ganon, who had been leaning casually against the wall, stepped forward with a light-hearted grin on his face. "Hey, don't let them scare you too much," he said, looking down at Ai with a friendly expression. "We’re not here to make enemies. Honestly, we're just after the same treasure you're after. We all want a piece of the Exodia Series, right? Bohohahaha!"
He scratched his head, glancing at Yushin and Shikimi for a moment before returning his gaze to Ai. "Tell you what," Ganon continued, his tone genuinely reassuring, "if you help us out, maybe we can work something out. Split the treasure, or at least give you a fair share. We're not monsters—at least, not all the time." He laughed, hoping to lighten the tension.
"You probably want that treasure for a reason, same as us. So how about we team up instead of making this more complicated than it has to be?" Ganon gave her a nod, his massive frame towering over her, yet his demeanor was far more welcoming than Yushin’s threatening antics.
He shrugged, adding, "Better than flying off and getting chased, right? Bohohahaha!"
Ai sighed. Ganon seemed to be reasonable enough, but, she wasn’t sure if trusting them would be wise. She had no choice though. “I presume so. Not like you all gave me much of an option though, ha.” She said through a nervous chuckle. She tested the cuffs, but their strength was still blaringly present. “What do you guys even need the Exodia series for, anyway?”
"Firepower." Yushin said with a dramatic pause. He leaned over to Byakuro, "That was cool right?" He whispered.
"You chilling big dog," Byakuro replied, dapping Yushin up.
Rakul rolled his eyes.
Ganon gave Yushin a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow at the over-the-top display. He couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he muttered under his breath, “Get a load of this guy…” His expression was amused, but there was a hint of playful exasperation in his tone.
Turning his attention back to Ai, Ganon continued, "Yeah, like the captain said—firepower. But it’s more than just that. The Exodia Series, from what we've heard, can tip the balance in ways you can’t imagine. And let’s be honest," Ganon shrugged with a smirk, "a little extra power in this crazy world can go a long way."
He looked at Ai more seriously now. "What about you? What's your angle on this whole treasure hunt?"
"Money. Treasure. That's it," she briefly cracked her neck. "Isn't that what all pirates are after? Hell, I don't even want to keep the Exodia series. I was just going to sell it to make a quick buck. I'm sure we could work something out, just maybe?"
"So then it's settled, to Drumlil!" Yushin said.
Family Superstitions[]
Soenbu looked at Blackrock Press News Paper. The vice admiral was dressed in his family warring clothes, all-black clothes, and his white marine coat. At his side was a scabbard but it held no blade. He drew a cigar and began to smoke, the coffee-scented smoke staining his large black mustache.
"Why did you do it? What was the reasoning for this? Exposing powers like this, someone must be paying him. Those donors..." The admiral thought to himself. "I suppose I should address the rest of them."
He crumpled up the paper and threw it overboard. "You got what you wanted brat, the world is starting to shift. From one war to the next..." Hobbs walked across the deck and entered a nice elevator shaft leading to the lower deck of the Amsterdam Warship. Complete state-of-the-art technology from the world's best builders.
Once the nobles were arrested, Hobbs took over the island and listened to the people, adjusting their living situations to become more fruitful, they agreed and signed an exclusive multi-generational deal with the World Government. With the builders happy and the citizens happy they began to double production and keep pushing for better ships.
This ship is called AMSTERDAM 85
The elevator reached the lowest level of the ship and arguably the safest despite its location. The lowest level was the living space and workspace of the marines on this ship. It was rather large, the size of a small town big enough to fit built-in structures to the walls.
Turning down a hallway, he entered a room with room filled with a team prepared for the mission ahead.
His presence was different than beforehand, it was much more cold, much sharper than his normal warm kind loving self. The Vice Admiral looked around at the room recognizing a few faces and nodding slightly as a gesture of greeting.
"Good evening everyone, welcome."
"Vice Admiral Hobbs." A smooth voice said. The Marine in question was another Vice Admiral, a figure of some renown; LeBlanc Corvo. Also known as the Phantom Thief. As if his epithet wasn't a giveaway information about the man was mostly hearsay and rumor. Mostly because much of his file and activities were so heavily redacted one would have thought he was a spook. Rumors abound were that he had been tied with Cipher Pol, and given the secretive nature of his missions and abilities, many were inclined to agree. He had a sort of princely appearance, with short well groomed deep purple hair, penetrating golden eyes, and smooth dark skin. He wore the standard overcoat of most Vice Admirals, but his attire underneath was a deep crimson suit with black, gold and white highlights.
"You've been a busy man as of late. Your time in Paradise must have been quite relaxing, if the reports and rumors I've heard are true." Another thing about Corvo, is that he liked to speak in vagaries at times if only because he tended to already know the truth of the matter. If he was bringing up his time in Paradise, then it stood to reason that Corvo likely knew everything that had occurred, down to what he had eaten a particular day and when. He was just that kind of man. But Hobbs being the man that he is also knew a few of Corvo's secrets as well, some of which he would preferred to keep buried. Like his dalliance with that pirate captain prior to the War of Empires. Still the man had proven his loyalty, and she was safely tucked away in Impel Down.
One's eyes would also be drawn to the faint bloodthirsty aura permeating from the halberd strapped across his back. A treasure recovered from an old marine base, it turned out that this weapon was a legendary meito, one of the 21 Great Grade Blades. A fearsome weapon in its own right, and when combined with the powers of his supposed not-so-secret Devil Fruit, Corvo was a formidable opponent and an even greater ally. There was a reason he was here after all.
"Yo, nice to see you, Hobbs." A brief welcome came from the last high-ranking name in the room. A woman who's attire matched her lack of chivalry. She didn't wear a marine-issued coat. Nor even a suit or any form of high-class attire. Rather, a sleeveless tank top and a pair of jeans. And to top it all off, she sat with her chair leaning precariously on its back two legs. With her feet crossed on the table and a half-eaten chocolate bar in her hand
If not for her strength, one would wonder how she was even allowed here. With such a blatant disregard for the high-class environment they were all in. "Pft, wish I had a vacation." She complained upon hearing Corvo speak up. She had no idea what Hobbs did in paradise. Nor did she really care enough about the other vice admirals to easedrop on their activities. But going purely off what she heard, it sounded like he'd had a nice trip.
Running in and coming to a skidding stop was a bunny with fur mostly brown but with patches of white, clearly groomed to look like snow on sand. “I'm here! Everyone, save your applause; the Jade Rabbit is here,” she said before locking eyes with Persephone. She immediately rushed to the opposite corner of the room, her ears flattened against her head and her eyes wide with fear. “Foul beast!” she exclaimed, trying to keep her distance
Castor stood at the entrance of the Amsterdam Warship, taking in the towering vessel’s size and marveling at the state-of-the-art technology that surrounded him. This was his first time aboard a ship of such magnitude, and it was his first mission in the New World as well. His hands briefly clenched into fists before he exhaled, attempting to steady the nervous energy running through him. Twenty years old and already a Captain, he reminded himself. But this was the New World—a place that tested even the most seasoned Marines, and he had yet to prove himself here.
He walked through the hallways, his polished boots making barely a sound on the pristine floors as he headed to the meeting room. Dressed in his black button-up shirt, his abs exposed in typical fashion, and the iconic white Marine coat draped over his shoulders, Castor tried to project confidence. His brown skin was highlighted by the low lighting, but despite his sharp appearance, inside he felt a pang of nervousness that was hard to shake. Every step made his Seastone arm feel heavier, almost like it was dragging him down, a reminder of the fierce battle he survived against Django. He had come far, but now, he was stepping into a new realm entirely.
As he reached the door to the meeting room, he took a deep breath, pausing before entering. "Calm down," he muttered to himself. His face, usually graced with a warm smile, twitched in hesitation. Castor was known for his composure, but this felt different. This room was filled with Vice Admirals, and his mind raced with thoughts of how much stronger and more experienced they were. He adjusted the Marine coat on his shoulders before stepping in.
The moment he entered, Castor felt the shift in atmosphere, and his nerves bubbled back up. Vice Admiral Hobbs—his presence cold and intimidating—was already there, a look he would never get used to despite being on the VA’s squad. His golden-brown eyes immediately found Vice Admiral Corvo, the man known as the Phantom Thief, and for a brief second, Castor felt his composure slip. Corvo’s sharp golden eyes practically pierced through him, and Castor couldn't help but wonder how much the man already knew about him.
Then, his gaze shifted to the woman casually lounging in her seat with a chocolate bar in hand. Her nonchalant attitude seemed to mock the formality of the setting, and Castor couldn't help but wonder how she could be so relaxed. Persephone, he realized. He swallowed nervously. Her reputation was as fierce as her strength.
"Captain Castor," he announced, his voice steady but just slightly higher than he intended, betraying his nerves. He saluted quickly, perhaps a little too stiffly, before relaxing. He could feel the eyes of everyone on him, and it took everything in him not to fidget.
Still, he forced a smile—his trademark composure slowly returning. "Apologies for my late arrival," he added, although he wasn’t actually late. He was just anxious about making a good impression. He straightened up, standing taller, though his youth and inexperience were still apparent in his posture. This was the New World, and he was determined to show that, despite his age, he was ready for whatever was coming.
As he took his place among the others, Castor could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he remained calm on the outside. This was his first mission in the New World, and he wasn’t about to let anyone see just how nervous he really was.
Sitting upright and properly in one of the chairs opposite of hobbs, was a efeminate figure who nodded in acknowledgement of Castor's arrival and rolled their eyes at the overly enthused mink. This marine had been here the longest, being present well before anyone else had arrived. Scribling what they had seen and heard throughout this stay in a little notebook. Lieutenant Zwartz was a man who was the walking definition of having a chip on ones shoulder.
"I think you are pardoned, Castor sir." Said Zwartz before looking to hobbs and around the room. "Anyone else missing? With all due respect to our esteemed officers, I don't favor the idea of letting the pirates get anywhere before us at any time. Probably would not hurt to get the ball rolling as soon as we can."
"Commodore Samantha. I heard tales of your accomplishments on Radaghast Island. We shall be lucky to count you in our ranks. I would most certainly like to hear about the outcome of that battle at some point. I haven't heard more beyond your interception." He called to Sam, his voice deep and dignified.
Samuel and Bluto Harold also attended the meeting, however they didn't say much during the Vice Admirals introduction. Between greetings Hobbs gave his round head nods to everyone. He commented little on his peers comments about his life, idle chat never got under his skin nor did he care. At the end of the day you could never choose who you work with, you just have to deal with it.
Everyone seemed rather cheery than Hobbs, his mood was a touch of melancholy. It looked like he didn't even want to attend the meeting in the first place.
"Thank you all for coming, your service and time is well respected. After this is all said an done, we can look forward to newer beginnings yes?" Hobbs cleared his throat bringing his hand above his mouth, stroking his mustache he twirled the edge of it with his finger before letting go.
"Before we start this meeting I will say this. We are going to need your one hundred percent guarantee that whatever happens on this island stays on this island. There will be things that happen during our mission that will challenge you, I need everyone's ok that they fully accept the terms of what they are signing up for."
From his coat, he threw a stack of papers with a document of confidentiality mixed with a nondisclosure agreement. The admiral signed the first document himself, showing trust to the other marines. "Have away," he said.
Bluto stepped up scanning the documents with a careful eye. He had indeed remained quiet. The older captain had made mental note of several things but didn't feel the need for comments. It was mildly humorous to see how little Samantha had changed since he first met her, but it was clear she had grown up.
As for the other, they were only familiar in name, having all taken up the same arms, but all from different walks of life. As for Hobbs, he kept his opinions quiet, as he didn't think it was appropriate to compare their mutual time returning to Paradise as Bluto had gone back for his one purposes. The sharp-haired captain pulled a pen from his coat and began to sign, the noise of his pen sharp and continent as he pressed into the parchment with fervor.
"You have my word, Vice-Admiral Hobbs. I expect it will be like we were never there." Taking a drag from his pipe, he slid the papers back and exhaled the stored-up smoke.
"Hmm." Finishing up the rest of her snack, Persephone rose from her seat. Walking around the table specifically on the route that brought her by Sam. And as she passed the girl, she gave her a simple pat on the head. A slight greeting as she continued on her path. Taking two papers once she arrived, she started heading back to her seat. Stopping only to hand one to her student.
At her seat, she analyzed the paper; she would like to trust Hobbs. But she was more intelligent than she looked, taking in every word on the paper. Even checking the back for anything extra. Once she came to the conclusion it was safe, she wrote her name along the line.
“I can tell you about that fight sometime if you like,” Sam said before listening to all of what's being said. Her ears fell back upon thinking she might have to do something she's not okay with, but perked up when Persephone gave her head pats and handed her a paper. She might not entirely like her teacher, but she did trust her judgment and decided to sneak over to sit beside her. “I'm not here cause I like you, I just know you wouldn't make me do something I don't like.” Writing her name on the line.
Had it been any other instance he might have been hesitant, but his commanding officer would know due and well what is going to transpire, and he had no reason to report things that were already known unless ordered. Reading over the documents as a formality, Zwartz signed the little blank line with his full name and rank. "With that out of the way, how shall we proceed? I assume we have an initial plan of attack, or are we going in blind?"
As the marines signed the documents, Castor sat silently, feeling the weight of the moment. His hand shook slightly as he grasped the pen, but he quickly steeled his nerves. His mind raced, thinking about everything that had led him to this point: the battles, the training, the loss of his arm and the prosthetic that replaced it. He wasn’t a veteran like the others in the room, but he had something to prove, not just to them, but to himself.
With a deep breath, he signed his name on the paper, a mixture of excitement and dread swirling in his chest.
Corvo quickly looked over the document, his eyes scanning the clauses, punishments and conditions. He was not unfamiliar with this. In fact he had been in Vice Admiral Hobbs position many a time, and had in fact written some himself.
Missions like this were far more commonplace than many would imagine. So he signed the document without much fuss. Once more forfeiting a piece of his soul, once more diving into the deluge that was the underbelly of the Marines and World Government. Another compromise, another body to hide and bury so that the Marines can look pristine to the outside world.
Samuel was the last to sign the paper, walking up to the desk and simply signing the document not caring for what contents laid inside. He looked at Hobbs and gave a simple nod.
The admiral continued his speech with everyone signing the papers, "Now that we have that out of the way. From here on out it is war, it seems that these seas over the past five years have known nothing but violence. It will not be easy, the mission is simple in speaking, a simple recovery mission but it's far from that."
He clicked a remote that he pulled out his pocket, a projector screen played. Data files and mission information were on the forefront.
"We are going after the Exodia Series, powerful weapons created by a man from the taboo period. These weapons have wagged war upon the government numerous amounts of times, causing one of the 20 kingdoms to fall at one point. During the War of Empires, I'd thought we'd destroyed the last remnants of those weapons. Today that just isn't the case."
He clicked the remote again, and another slide. "We have details that came from Blackrock Press report of these leaked locations of the Exodia. The island of Drumlill. It's an unknown island, lush tropical. The last known documented sighting was over 176 years ago. We are still unsure of what kind of weapon it is, but even if it seems minimal, treat it like a nuke."
He clicked the remote again displaying another slide.
"We are bound to run into powerful people, that message sent out to the world means more eyes are upon these things. It's in our best interests to be swift and strong."
Sam raised her hand to be noticed. “So this is basically a blindfold race against the clock. We don't know what's out there or who else is coming after this weapon. It's more like capture the flag because whoever grabs that weapon first controls what happens on this island,” she said, her little tail wagging as she tried to hide her excitement.
"No." Silence filled the space after Corvo's response and as others spared a glance his way he shook his head. "If we fail in acquiring those weapons, then our mission changes to ensure that those weapons never leave Drumlil. With our combined might, we will eradicate everyone and everything until not a trace remains. Drumlil will cease to exist. That document is more than just a non-disclosure agreement." His piercing yellow eyes swept across the room. "Its an order. From the top. Whether everyone else on that island survives is just a luxury, so if you place any value on innocent life, don't fail."
Corvo leaned his head back as he idly continued voicing his thoughts. "I'm sure they'll cook up a story. For example, the Exodia weapons were unfortunately too powerful to control and the pirates unleashed them irresponsibly causing the whole island to be destroyed, killing everyone. That about right Vice Admiral Hobbs?"
"More or less. The outcome will be decided by the higher ups. Not us. We are the cogs in this race, remember that. We all play a roll, big or small."
Castor couldn't stay silent any longer. He shifted in his seat, his expression growing more tense as the gravity of the mission became clearer. Finally, he spoke up, his voice cutting through the uneasy silence that had settled after Corvo's blunt assessment.
"That's kind of a shitty way to think about the mission, don’t you think?" Castor’s words were sharp but not disrespectful. "I get that we have orders, and I understand the stakes are high, but wiping out an entire island if we don’t succeed? There’s got to be more to this than just being the 'cogs' in a machine. We're supposed to protect people, right? What happens to that if we’re willing to just erase everything?"
His eyes darted to Hobbs, searching for some kind of reassurance that the mission wasn’t as cold-blooded as Corvo made it sound. Castor’s prosthetic arm clenched into a fist as he spoke, the seastone joints grinding quietly, a sign of his inner conflict.
He knew the New World was ruthless, but the idea of eliminating an entire island — possibly innocent people — sat wrong with him.
Taking a moment to pat the head of her enthusiastic student. Persephone spoke, "I agree." Leaning forward, stiffening her posture. "I mean, surely there is a way to destroy them, right? Do we really need to erase the entire island when just a few strikes are what it takes?" The way she saw it, if the entire island were destroyed, the weapons would be too. So why bother to put all that effort in when they could focus their efforts on the weapons themselves?
But, as much as erasing an island would be horrendous. Persephone was smart enough to realize there must have been a reason behind Hobb's statement. She didn't know him well, but from what she saw, he didn't seem like an idiot who doesn't think of alternatives. So, putting together another question, she began to speak. "And say it does boil down to the worst case. Would it really split our efforts too much to put some marines on evacuation duty?"
Hobbs first addressed Castor, "I admire your morals, it makes me envious of you. You think of the innocent in the face of danger, that is good. Yet I say this to you, Castor. Sure people will die on this island, there is no doubting that, perhaps even some of our own men. Cleansing an island sounds crazy until it isn't. You have to think of it like this, if we don't erase the island, and we "save" as many as we can, how many more are we dooming to death. When a pirate holds one of the most powerful tools in the world? And what happens when they get another, and another, peace? Prosperity? No. Death. This is a pirate game, and we play by pirate rules."
Hobbs then turned towards Persephone, "Of course necessary precautions will take place, it will operate the same, but that can change depending on the outcome. If we can extract the weapon before anyone else then, saving the island and placing it under the World Government is the best option. If the pirates and whatever sea scum gets it first, I will not hesitate to request a buster call."
"Mhmm, and what about destroying the weapon?" Persephone replied; she had noticed that he hadn't answered anything about that. In fact, to her, it seemed almost like he was avoiding the matter. But she didn't let any skepticism show through her face. Only keeping the same straight smile she'd been bearing.
"Our mission is to secure it. Not destroy it." Hobbs said, looking around at the room, "Anymore questions?"
With that, Persephone narrowed her eyes slightly. She disliked his answer, but she didn't show it any more then that. Merely replying with, "I understand."
Castor leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze flicking between Hobbs and Persephone as he processed the Vice Admiral’s response. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it didn’t surprise him either. Hobbs was a hardened officer, someone who had probably seen more of the dark side of the world than Castor could imagine. Still, the notion of accepting mass casualties as collateral made his stomach twist.
Persephone’s line of questioning had been sharp, and Castor silently appreciated how she didn’t let Hobbs dodge the point about destroying the weapon. But Hobbs’ firm reply left little room for hope on that front. The mission was clear: recover the Exodia weapon. Everything else, including lives, seemed secondary.
“I get it,” Castor finally muttered. “But it still feels wrong.” He wasn’t naive — the New World was full of brutality, and the pirates they’d be facing wouldn’t hesitate to kill. But something about wiping an entire island off the map, possibly along with innocent people, didn’t sit right with him. He nodded slowly. “Just know, I’ll do my job. But I’m not turning my back on people who don’t deserve to die.”
Persephone’s measured response echoed in his thoughts, and Castor found himself silently agreeing with her. The situation seemed more complicated than Hobbs was letting on. Hobbs, as experienced as he was, wasn’t an idiot, but there was more beneath the surface — more than just the mission. And the ominous mention of a Buster Call sent a chill through the room.
Corvo’s earlier words hung in the air, casting a long shadow over the entire operation. If things went south, Drumlil might not survive, and they’d have to live with that.
But Castor wasn’t going to let it happen easily. Not if he had a say in it.
Destinations Collide[]
The open sea stretched endlessly beneath the sharp glare of the afternoon sun, the wind whipping across the deck of the Imperator, a warship as formidable as its passengers. The waters of the New World were restless, thrumming with a latent energy that promised chaos. The ship sliced through the waves, heading toward Drumlil Island, where legends and rumors now pulled in the most dangerous forces in the world.
Tiberius stood at the prow, his black armor gleaming under the sunlight, the familiar weight of responsibility and power resting on his broad shoulders. His expression was one of focused determination, his cold, calculating eyes fixed on the horizon as if he could see their destination already. The God Hammer—one of the Exodia Series. A weapon of unspeakable power. This was no mere legend for him. It was an opportunity to solidify his dominance, to ensure that his name would be feared across all lands.
Beside him stood Sejanus, his tall frame relaxed but alert. His green eyes, shielded by the glint of his rectangular glasses, scanned the sea with quiet contemplation. Long, obsidian hair flowed behind him, held in its customary ponytail. Unlike his friend, Sejanus was less interested in the power of the God Hammer itself. What intrigued him were the mysteries behind it—the ancient technology, the forgotten history. If the weapon could destroy the world, there was no doubt in his mind that it was the product of an era far beyond their understanding.
"So, this God Hammer," Sejanus said, breaking the silence, "Do you truly think it exists? Or are we chasing myths again?"
Tiberius didn’t turn, his deep voice carrying over the wind. "Myths become reality when enough men die for them. Whether it exists or not, everyone else believes it does. And that’s enough."
Sejanus adjusted his glasses, his lips twitching into the smallest hint of a smile. "Fair enough. But I’ll feel better when we’ve studied it ourselves."
"Race for a legendary weapon that can destroy the world? Sounds like my kind of adventure!" Orion chimed in, flipping acrobatically off the mast and landing lightly next to Tiberius with a playful flourish. He gave a mock salute. "Don't worry, boys. Whatever happens, we'll be the ones to get that hammer!"
Sejanus glanced down at Orion, his expression unchanged but his annoyance thinly veiled. "This is no game, Orion. You’d do well to remember that."
Orion laughed as he began to shadow box on the dekc. "Oh, I know! But where’s the fun if we don’t enjoy the journey, huh?" He said as he laughed and looked at Tiberius, who only shook his head, half-smiling. Despite his carefree attitude, Orion’s skill was undeniable. His playful demeanor often masked a sharp tactical mind and lightning-fast reflexes, making him a formidable warrior.
Tiberius folded his arms, watching as Orion bounded around the deck, practicing with his spear like a child playing a game. "Orion’s right in one sense. We’ll need to stay sharp, but this is also uncharted territory. We should be prepared for anything."
It was at on the depths of the horizon, that another warship sailed through the New World seas. Its stature is large and bold, made from metal and fine materials. They were black-market Amsterdam Warships, their steel red and black paint glimmered in the hot sun. A symbol familiar to Tiberius and his crew House Rodger.
It seemed that Tiberius's fate was tied with Camelot every now and then. Upon the front deck of the ships was Bumi, he smoked a cigarette while leaning upon the metal bar railing, "I see someone, out there. Three of them, one of them is extremely powerful, should I go check it out cap?"
Bumi's observation skills were top-of-the-line, he often found his success in scouting missions prior to his captains return, he was Camelot's number one spy.
"There's no need for that...I've seen that flag before and Lancelot wouldn't shut up about their last adventure with the dragons. Perhaps we have a chat with them, most likely they are after what we are after." Rodger Riley replied fixing his pointed hat.
"Are you sure going after this weapon is going to make the House forgive what you lost? You let that marine eat it, instead of killing him you let him go? The stories of old about you wouldn't hav-" Before Bumi could finish, Riley gave a glare like no other to Bumi.
"Just shut up until we reach them." Riley closed his eyes and shook his head.
As the silhouette of the massive black-market Amsterdam warship broke the horizon, Tiberius’s eyes narrowed. Even at a distance, the familiar red-and-black steel shimmered in the sun, and that insignia—House Rodger's mark—fluttered high on the sails. His jaw clenched, and a low growl escaped his throat.
“Not them again,” Tiberius muttered, his irritation barely contained.
Sejanus, who stood beside him at the ship’s bow, followed his gaze toward the approaching vessel. He adjusted his glasses, his sharp eyes recognizing the symbol immediately. "House Rodger," he stated calmly. "It seems Camelot’s tangled in this as well."
Orion, perched casually on the ship’s railing, was the first to break the tension with a lighthearted laugh. "Isn't this like the third time we’ve bumped into them this month? Think it’s fate?"
Tiberius’s scowl deepened. "Fate, or annoyance. I’m starting to think Camelot’s flag is cursed to follow me. Every time we’re after something valuable, they’re right behind us."
Sejanus smirked slightly, folding his arms. "It’s not unexpected. The Exodia Series would attract all the usual players—and some. Camelot's interest was inevitable."
Orion flipped down from the railing, landing nimbly on his feet before spinning his spear lazily in his hand. "Well, I’m all for a friendly chat, but let’s be real—these guys aren’t showing up for tea. If they’re after the God Hammer, things might get... messy."
Tiberius exhaled through his nose, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. The thought of Rodger Riley and his crew trailing them at every turn grated at him. It wasn’t the first time their paths had crossed, but Tiberius had hoped it would be the last. The "rivalry" with Camelot had grown tiresome, and though he respected their strength, their constant interference made his blood boil.
The wind blew strong into the sails of the Camelot ship, catching up to Tiberius in no time. Pulling up right beside them Bumi and Riley looked down at the the Legion of Tiberius. The Camelot shop was much taller than your traditional ship.
"You must be Tib, Lancelot has told me much about you," Riley shouted towards them, he nodded and gave his greetings to the others as a form of respect.
Tiberius’s cold eyes shot up toward Riley, the nickname only stoking the fire of his growing irritation. His grip on his sword tightened ever so slightly, but he remained silent for the moment, sizing up his opponent. His crew, too, stood ready—Sejanus as calm and calculating as ever, and Orion, ever the playful one, grinning at the unexpected confrontation.
“Lancelot talks too much,” Tiberius replied, his voice low but carrying across the sea between them. “I’m not here to chat, Riley. If you’re after the God Hammer, you’re in our way.”
"So he is after it, figured as much..." He thought to himself, Riley then leaping over the metal railing, he vaulted and landed gracefully on the ledge of the ship. His eyes held a tiredness to them, perhaps lack of sleep.
"Forgot to introduce myself, the names Rodger Riley, my friends call me Mara." He smiled.
290,0780,000Tiberius narrowed his cold eyes as Riley made his graceful landing on the ledge of the ship, sizing him up as he introduced himself. The wind whipped through Tiberius’s short, spiky hair, and for a moment, there was only the sound of the sea between them.
“I don’t care what people call you,” Tiberius said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “The only thing that matters is whether you’re smart enough to stay out of my way.”
"So much for manners," Riley thought again, "If anything having you guys here hinders me the same, but I'm not looking for a fight, perhaps we can work together for the time being? How much do you know of the God Hammer?"
Tiberius scoffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Riley with a mixture of suspicion and cold indifference. “Work together?” He echoed, the words almost tasting bitter as they left his mouth.
“I know enough,” Tiberius said cryptically, his voice low and gravelly. “But what I know isn’t for you or anyone else to worry about.”
He took a step forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over Riley. “The God Hammer is a relic of the past, and the past has a way of deciding who’s worthy. So don’t concern yourself with what I know. Just keep to your side, and we’ll see how long this so-called cooperation lasts.”
Riley bursted out laughing and so did Bumi from the other ship. The purple-haired pirate called out to his captain, "These guys don't have a clue in the world."
Riley smiled, "Seems to be that way Bumi. Alright, Tibby. I'll be seeing yah then." Riley with another leap landed upon the railing of his ship, crossing over.
Tiberius watched Riley leap back to his ship, his jaw tightening as the laughter of the Camelot crew echoed across the water. He didn't react outwardly, keeping his cold, calculating demeanor intact, though his fingers clenched slightly at the insult.
Turning his back to them, Tiberius muttered, more to himself than to Sejanus or Orion, "Laugh while you can. They won't be laughing when it matters."
He glanced back at the fading ship, his gaze hard as steel. "Let them think we're clueless. We'll see who walks away with the hammer when it’s all said and done."
---
A Ways Away...
Following their introductions, and subsequent discussion on strategy, Corvo alongside Bluto volunteered to head off the pirates whilst their forces circle around the island and make landfall. The strategy here was simple; delay or defeat.
In what was a rather unsurprising maneuver Corvo whose background in intellig7ence meant that he always seemed to be in the know was already prepared. He had ordered those on the Amsterdam to coat a marine ship in the special resin that would allow it to move underwater using the sea currents. This way they would be able to move in close and surprise their foes undetected. Well, even if they were it wouldn't do them any good.
With their ship coated they sailed beneath the ocean surface towards the island. Corvo stood at the bridge of the ship, his ominous weapon shedding a chilling aura keeping the subordinate marines at bay and at their posts.
Using his devil fruit powers it was childs play to subtlety influence the sea currents, maximizing their speed. In no time they had already made it near the island, and with his keen observational haki, he could detect the presence of two vessels and their occupants.
"Bluto, I'm sure you've also detected them by now. Give the order to surface, I'll begin preparing our initial onslaught." Corvo said smoothly. He raised an arm the telltale cackling of purple energy surrounding his hand as he began to unleash his power.
Bluto was sat in a chair as they had ridden the currents. The captain had acknowledged their current tactic and had left his pipe on the Amsterdam. After all, the last thing anyone needed was the stench of tobacco in their ait tight ship. Despite the captain's usually abrasive demeanor, he had to respect Corvo's sense of tactics. He expected they'd be more than capable of hampering any pirate threats before they made landfall.
The captain heard the Vice-Admiral's command and acknowledged it in kind. "Yes, I can sense them. I believe we are in the proximity of 5 unidentified individuals. Two of them seem to be far stronger than the rest. I suspect pirates, and those two are likely individual commanders or captains based on their positions. Of course, I can admit I am more proficient at closer ranges."
Bluto nodded at the order looking at the men around him. "Adjust the rudders and increase upward lift! This is not a drill; prepare for ascent!" Bluto bellowed as he looked up to Corvo, as he, too, decided to prepare and shifted his body into his hybrid form. A large beak and wings replaced his mouth and arms.
As the two ships sailed toward Drumlil Island, Sejanus, standing at the side of Tiberius's ship, suddenly tensed. His sharp eyes narrowed, and he instinctively placed a hand on the shaft of his spear, his Observation Haki fully activated. A wave of intense concentration washed over him as he extended his senses out into the ocean.
Something was wrong.
He turned toward Tiberius, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Captain... we're not alone." His voice was low but firm. "I can sense them. There's a ship, beneath the water... Marines."
The air grew thick with tension as Sejanus continued to focus. "Two of them are powerful. One of them... he feels dangerous. They’re heading straight for us, and they'll surface any moment now."
Sejanus's hand tightened around his spear. "This isn't just a scouting mission. They're planning an ambush." He looked toward the horizon, then back at Tiberius. "What's the plan, Captain?"
Tiberius’s cold, calculating eyes flickered toward Sejanus, who had just delivered the grim news. He turned his gaze back to Riley, the smirk long gone from his face, replaced by a hard edge.
"Seems you and your boys aren't the only ones with an eye on the God Hammer," Tiberius said, his voice deep and commanding. "We've got company. Marines. They're coming up from underwater and it seems their trying to get the drop on us."
He stepped forward, closer to the edge of the ship where Riley stood on the opposite deck, his broad frame casting a shadow over the railing. "Two of 'em are strong. Dangerous. Could be they're aiming to sink both our ships before we even reach the island."
Tiberius's eyes narrowed, his irritation growing with the situation. "You might want to rethink your exit strategy, Mara. Unless you plan on taking a dive with those Marines."
His hand rested on the hilt of his massive sword, the muscles in his arm tensing as the wind picked up. The atmosphere was thick with the sense of an incoming battle, but Tiberius remained calm and collected, his mind already considering his next move.
"You want to work together for the time being?" Tiberius added, locking eyes with Riley. "Then maybe we deal with these dogs first. I’m not interested in cleaning up your mess if you get sunk before you even reach Drumlil."
Bumi rushed toward the edge of the railing, "There in the water," he pointed out, his observation picking up the submarine, "It's accending quickly we must move."
Riley smiled, placing his hands onto Pegasus, "Stubborn pirate," he called out Tiberius, "I will be having to worry about you sinking. Don't worry since I'm such a nice guy, you can ride with me till the island."
"NOW BUMI!"
Reaching below deck on the Amsterdam vessel, Bumi made his way toward the control with swift speed. At the sound of his captain, he pressed and flipped several buttons.
From the base of their ship, a compartment opened up revealing a slew of sea rockets, 12 on each side. As the gears fired one by one did the rockets shoot in the waters towards the submarine looking to sink the ship before it could rise.
---
The marines on the ship were in a flurry of activity as they prepared for battle. Several marines at their station scrambled as they all shouted as a slew of torpedoes were suddenly launched from the pirate ship.
"Return fire and deploy flares!" A higher ranked marine shouted over the cacophony of voices. The marines launched a return salvo of their torpedos which when combined with the flares created a crashed against the pirates own attack resulting in a wide sweep of explosions that sent shockwaves through the underwater currents.
Meanwhile Corvo having seen the retaliation of his subordinates decided to use the attack for their own benefit. Flickering from his position he reappeared at the helm, shoving the marine on duty to the side as took control of the ship.
"PORT HARD! EVASIVE MANEUVERS!" He directed the ship and up and to the left as he with a flex of his power pushed the ship with an upward rising current.
BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Corvo shouted, and the marines quickly obeyed as they hunkered down. The shockwaves from the explosions slammed into the ship which shook violently but thanks to Corvo's quick thinking and leadership they managed. Still steering the ship and using his power he utilized the shockwaves and turned them into a propulsive force as their ship was sent hurtling upwards at immense speeds.
In moments the ship broke through the surface as it was catapulted into the air high above the two ships. Corvo nodded towards Bluto as they began the next phase lf their attack.
Bluto held fast as they were thrown into the air, his hybrid form taking its full shape in the chaos. A figure shifted between his adult size and features and an imposing, almost stalky avian creature. As they tilted and shook, he was kept stable by his elongated and flat talons, which acted like stabilizers. His eyes narrowed as he focused on what was before him and the rocking of the submersible.
Once the vessel breached the surface, Bluto nodded at the Vice-Admiral's command. Kicking his long legs rapidly, Bluto employed soru to move through the crowded marines and to the exit hatch in a second. A large beak twisted the valve as the hatch hissed with the releasing pressure and popped open. "Prepare the slingshot maneuver, Corvo."
For Tiberius, Riley, and their subordinates, what came from the ship was a sizeable avian freak. It was wrapped in a Marine coat that hung onto its neck by a cord. This was one of the marines they'd sensed as the captain softly clicked his bill like a man and beast in one mind.
Three gravity rings formed around Bluto as the sub-deck acted like a launch strip. Corvo and Bluto had planned a strategy of their own. Bluto's upper body crackled with energy as a black opaque sheen formed around his head and wings. "Kamisori." He said loud enough to carry as a whisper on the winds. Bluto was violently propelled with a thundering boom like a rocket toward the pirates in a millisecond. His wings and feet stabilized his path as he used his rokushiki to make his flight path erratic, which made him hard to follow. Bluto was now a living supersonic missile aimed at penetrating their ships.
Sejanus, sensing the immediate threat, wasted no time. His eyes flashed as he extended his hands out toward the rapidly incoming Marine captain, Bluto, and the chaos unfolding in the skies above. His Observation Haki had already given him enough warning to act decisively.
In one fluid motion, Sejanus summoned an enormous mass of soot from thin air, swirling like a black storm around their ship. The dense, black clouds gathered together with frightening speed, forming a towering wall of soot that encircled their vessel and reached toward the sky, covering them like a dome. The soot thickened to an almost solid state, providing a shield that could withstand even powerful attacks.
But Sejanus wasn’t done. He knew that soot, in its natural state, was a potent conductor of electricity.
"Get ready!" Sejanus shouted, focusing his will on the swirling mass. His gauntlets began to crackle with raw electricity, and arcs of lightning leaped from his fingertips into the soot shield. The electric charge spread throughout the structure in an instant, infusing the entire barrier with a deadly electrical current along with the added Busoshoku Haki coated.
The combination of the conductive soot and high-voltage electricity created a powerful defense. If Bluto or any of the Marines touched the shield, they would be met with not only the dense wall of soot but also a surge of electricity powerful enough to cause significant harm.
The air around them hummed with static energy as the electrical charge intensified within the soot. The black dome of soot, now laced with blue-white lightning, crackled menacingly.
Tiberius stood at the ready, his hand gripping his sword, prepared for anything. "Looks like they're trying to break through," he muttered. His eyes shifted to Sejanus, who remained focused and composed, his eyes closed as he maintained control over the shield.
Orion, playful as always, stood on the edge, his eyes wide with excitement. "This is going to be fun! I wonder if they'll make it past our little thundercloud," he said, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm.
Bluto looked at the shield with contempt. The captain had to make a decision to cut off his assault and lay down an exhausting siege or gamble on an uncertain tactic. Intelligence and caution would dictate a siege. However, the captain knew anytime afforded to the pirates offered them time to plan. So against common sense, he continued to rocket towards the electrified wall pushing his legs faster to increase his velocity.
Bluto pulled his head further back, and his neck, which had already nestled up to his body, was compressed further. Inches from the done, Bluto felt the electricity start to surround him as he enacted his plan. "Beak Cannon!"
With the use of his large peak, the captain used his speed and Shigan to strike the doom. Its narrowed point of contact cracked through the triple defense with pure brute force and the captain breached the defenses. However, it was not without cost as his feather and jacket were scorched with the crackling of electricity. Bluto's body ached, however he persisted, as before his wings gave out, he added one more insult to the Pirate's competent dome.
For those with observation haki, they could sense a welling of haki from the avian captain. In his beak was a bubble of emissions haki, ready to erupt with violence. However Bluto intended more than a simple emissions burst. Using his hybrid traits, Bluto clicked his beak like the orchestra of a cannon and sent out several rapid fire emissions burst that tore at the wall, and lightly pulled at pirates below him.
It had cost Bluto greatly as he started to plummet only to end up rolling across the deck of Tiberius’s ship. However, he had achieved his goal. Softening their defenses. "Hope you don't mind rain, boys." He snarled in a raspy voice.
Up above and still on the marine ship, Corvo allowed a small smile to grace his features. He entrusted the Captain to be able to handle the pirates but he wasn't going to be sitting this one out completely. Raising his hand again the cackle of energy surrounding his fist grew heavy as he arrested the downward momentum of the ship, keeping it suspended and hovering in the air. Instead he turned the ship to starboard and angled it to aim squarely at the enemy ships.
Grabbing the radio he commanded his Marines to prepare for bombardment to aid the Captain. Their target? The second ship commanded by Rodger Riley. At the very least, they would sink one vessel while the Captain caused havoc for the other. As the long-range cannons were being fitted and prepared, Corvo generated circles of gravity just beyond the edges of each cannon to vastly increase the weight and velocity of their rounds.
With a resounding shout, he commanded his Marines to open fire on the second ship releasing a devastating salvo of cannons empowered by his gravity manipulation to move at twice their speed.
From the sea Riley could tell something was up, judging from they way the ship floated in the air, it had to have been some sort of fruit powers, but what. Then men aboard the Rodger ship were scurrying around like wild mice, attending to battle stations and such, that's when they noticed the bird fly and swoop down.
During this time, Bumi had left the control room and took to the main deck where he and Riley would meet.
"Mara I'm going to intercept them in the skies," Bumi shouted as he started to make his way towards the railing. With a swift jump he launched himself into the air. His appearance slightly changed around his mouth, becoming more reptilians, his jaws bearing fangs, and a forked tongue. His head grew itself horns while his skin turned mud brown and red.
His cheeks swelled with a brown liquid which quickly glowed red, spitting that liquid out from his mouth, a massive-sized mud shield big enough to protect their ship formed.
Bumi didn't stop there instead he then launched a powerful side kick sending the wall towards the flying ship. As they rained fire from the skies thanks to Bumi. The ship was saved for the time being.
Riley on the other hand, deployed several of their own missiles shooting above the clouds and homing into the flying ship.
"Good job Bumi-san." Riley shouted from the deck.
Landing back onto the deck itself Bumi thanked his captain giving him a charming wink, "No prob Cap."
Corvo observed their attack and the enemies response with feigned disinterest. He was not surprised at easily they were able to counter his attack, but it did mean that the Captain would have more to deal with it. No matter, he had confidence in Captain Bluto's ablities to handle the situation.
He barked an order at the Marines who swiftly obeyed his command. "Deploy ballistic missiles, and prepare for another bombardment. Then port to starboard."
The marine ship unleashed another salvo of missiles which fired upon the flying mud wall. The resulting impact spewed hot molten mud and hardened rock everywhere and kicking up dust.
This also had the effect of disrupting their own counter fire as the missiles fired from the enemy ship were clipped and detonated prematurely. Not that it would have mattered. As he ordered the ship to turn, he manipulated the ships gravity to have it drop allowing it to nimbly evade the remaining missiles that rocketed through the space they previously occupied.
With another flex of his power, he propelled the Marine ship forward, as if the ship was sailing through the air, having it very swifly cross the distance to flank the ship from behind.
From their starboard side, a cacophony of cannons shifting to aim towards the enemy could be heard, the sweet hum of machinery working in tandem towards its noble purpose.
Now firmly in the position to ambush his foes from behind Corvo gave his next command. "Aim just short of the ships, we'll target the ocean and use the ocean waves to push the ship until it capsizes. Now fire!"
Having given up any pretense of hurting the enemy ships, he instead hoped to use the sea to his advantage. It should be obvious by now that they held the superior position, and mobility, and could leverage their ships artillery far better than they could. Either they would retreat or be hemmed up in defending their position providing the Captain with an opening. Either way it was in his hands now.
With that the marine ship unleashed a vicious undending barrage of cannon fire at the waters just by the ships, intending on creating enough explosions and disturbance to send the ship tipping over and sinking into the ocean below.
In the chaos of the dueling artillery, Bluto pulled himself off the damp deck and looked toward the men in front of him. His flesh was still aching from the electricity, but his spirit refused to gin into any initial blows. His voice cut through the battle as he looked at Tiberius and his crew. "So, which lucky bastard gets to taste the salty deck first? How about you?" He said to Sejanus before his gaze flicked to Tiberius. "Or, how about you, son of the Legion King, child of Dressrosa?" Bluto said with a twisted sense of decorum. "I've met the prized son; how do you fare?"
Bluto used soru to approach the main mast of their ship. He placed his hand against its sturdy wood and charged a small ball of emission. "Not that it matters in truth. I'm not here for your head, just the shame you'll feel burning inside." The captain said, eyes with a glint of red. He was ready to mess with their vessel, waiting for the first twitch of action.
Tiberius stood tall, his arms crossed as he watched Bluto’s theatrical challenge with a mix of amusement and disdain. The Marines’ captain may have been trying to provoke them, but Tiberius wasn’t one to be easily swayed by words, especially those meant to cut deep.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as Bluto mentioned his father and the so-called shame he would feel. Tiberius chuckled, then threw his head back and burst into full laughter. The sound echoed across the deck, cutting through the chaotic noise of battle like a sharp blade.
"You really think that's going to work on me?" Tiberius barked through his laughter, pointing at Bluto with mocking disdain.
Tiberius uncrossed his arms, his eyes narrowing, the amusement in his face quickly replaced by a cold, calculating glare. His voice dropped an octave, thick with menace. "But I’ll tell you what does matter, Bluto—you made the mistake of stepping onto my ship."
Without warning, Tiberius launched himself forward with explosive speed, his massive frame propelling through the air like a cannonball. His sword, gleaming in the dim light, was drawn in a swift, fluid motion, and he swung it with such ferocity that the very air around it seemed to bend.
The blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle, creating a powerful shockwave that radiated outward in all directions. The sheer force of the swing was enough to make the wood of the ship creak beneath the strain, and the shockwave itself hurtled toward Bluto like a visible wave of energy, tearing through the air between them.
"Come taste the deck yourself!" Tiberius shouted, his voice booming like thunder as his sword's arc aimed to not only strike Bluto but send him crashing back with the overwhelming force of the shockwave.
"With your clan, arrogance, and ego seem like a birthright; however, I can be wrong." The captain said as he watched Tiberius rocket toward him, falling silent. The shockwave of propelled wind piqued his attention as he waited for the projectile to be feet from him; he used soru to disappear from the human eye and instantly appear next to Tiberius's sword-wielding side. The Emission Haki was in his hand as he let it fizzle out, only to continue talking. "I should take this seriously, but I have to ask first. Is that cutting projectile a Legion requirement? It's a good technique, but you're not the first to use it." Bluto noted with curiosity as he continued to talk at Tiberius, unconcerned by the initial attack but not unaware of his capabilities from sensing his power.
"Ok, so out of respect to your request. I'll stop talking and even let you take the next strike." He said, returning Tiberius's mock with a far more flat and controlled attitude. Standing wide, open, he invited Tiberius to strike. Still, he only activated busoshoku Haki on his limbs as a precaution.
Tiberius’s eyes tracked Bluto as the marine captain used soru to vanish and reappear beside him, his usual grin now replaced with a look of cool annoyance. He didn't even flinch when Bluto reappeared, letting his sword rest at his side.
"You really are horribly uneducated, aren't you?" Tiberius sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. "I’m not part of the Legion. Not any more. So that little theory of yours? It’s worth less than the deck you're standing on."
He stepped toward Bluto, his towering frame looming over the marine captain with an undeniable aura of power. Tiberius's muscles tensed, but his eyes remained calm, almost bored. "And that cutting technique?" He continued with a mocking smirk, "You talk like you’ve seen it all, but trust me, this isn’t some common legion trick. This is just me, being polite."
Tiberius rolled his shoulders, the weight of his sword still in his hand as Bluto made his offer, inviting the next strike. The invitation was met with a cold laugh, Tiberius glancing at Bluto as if he were a mere fly buzzing too close to the fire.
"Respect?" Tiberius raised an eyebrow. "You don’t get to use that word, not with me."
He raised his sword, a gleam of metallic light reflecting off the blade as his eyes locked onto Bluto’s stance. "But since you’re so eager to feel what a real strike is like..." He let the words hang in the air as he gripped his weapon, his knuckles tightening around the hilt.
With a sudden burst of energy, Tiberius swung his sword again, this time with deadly precision and power, aiming directly at Bluto’s exposed body. His Busoshoku Haki surged through the blade, turning the already powerful strike into something far more devastating, a force capable of splitting apart an island, much like the strike he committed against The Master. He wanted to see just how "open" Bluto truly was.
Despite the verbal retaliation from Tiberius, Bluto waited with a slight smirk as he riled up the opponent and watched his Haki flare up. His body language was still unengaged as he sensed the immense power barrel down towards him with monstrous potential. He suspected a man of Tiberius's capabilities could predict his moves, so anything was a gamble, but that didn't dissuade the captain. Success or failure had to take a backseat to action as he decided to not rely on rokushiki this time. Instead, Bluto returned to the basics of his training. When a man deals with island-splitting attacks and forces that could knock an island's people out, he wouldn't assume the simplicity of combat to appear.
Bluto was not an idea as he wasn't open for long as he moved, but it was the climax of Tiberius' swing. Hairs on Bluto's spikey head were shaved off, and he turned his body to parallel with the blade. It was a relaxed dodge, simple, but it allowed the captain to get in close as he went to grab at Tiberius's blade-wielding forearm as he threw a punch with his free arm, going for the CQC approach.
Bluto's calculated move brought him dangerously close to Tiberius, his hand reaching for the arm that held the massive blade. His relaxed dodge and sudden shift into close-quarters combat was quick, a shift that would catch many off guard.
But not Tiberius.
The moment Bluto's hand neared his arm, Tiberius's muscles tensed, reacting with a practiced ferocity honed through years of battle. His free hand shot up in a brutal counter, aiming to intercept Bluto's punch before it could land. It wasn't a defensive move—it was an attempt to crush Bluto’s fist mid-strike. Tiberius’s sheer strength, bolstered by his Haki, made it a dangerous gamble for the marine captain.
"You really are an idiot," Tiberius growled as his arm flexed with monstrous power, meeting Bluto’s attack head-on. "You think this is some ordinary fight? You think you can outplay me?"
Bluto didn't answer as he kept his word and ignored Tiberius's insults. The counter strike was clever as Bluto had to adjust to his opponent's reflexive body on the fly. So, he accepted a simple truth about his predicament. If this man considered his tactics idiotic, then he needed to play to that and let the pirate's confidence outweigh his sense as he pressed on despite the risk.
Bluto's fist kept moving in the arc that would be intercepted by Tiberius's until suddenly, his fist opened up, and that fist was met with point blank a burst of Emissions. Bluto knew that his hand could still get caught if Tiberius pushed through. Still, no action came without risk as he stared down the Legion's leader with determination, blocking any inward swing of Tiberius's sword with his forearm, risking opening up the pirate to further punishment.
As Bluto’s hand opened, releasing a burst of Emission Haki at point-blank range, the two men found themselves locked in a dangerous exchange. The air between them crackled with energy, Bluto banking on his risky maneuver to force Tiberius off-balance. But Tiberius, with his sharp reflexes and years of combat experience, wasn’t so easily caught.
The burst of energy from Bluto’s palm slammed into Tiberius’s torso, momentarily forcing him to shift his stance. But instead of staggering back, Tiberius used the momentum, pivoting on his back foot to absorb the impact. His body twisted as he brought his sword down with incredible force, aiming to cleave through Bluto’s forearm that was blocking his swing. While using his other hand, now darkened with Haki to hit Bluto right in his sternum.
Across on the other ship Riley and Bumi were to busy deterring the other ship above in the sky, a stowaway was on board their ship. A teenage boy with orange hair and reddish hair, with brown skin and blue eyes.
From the commotion of the battle the young man looked for his opportunity to escape the vessel.
"Dad I hope you forgive me for breaking the rules, but I gotta see the world on my own," he thought to himself as he crept up the deck of the ship. Waling sirens and explosive cannon fire riddled the air kicking up smoke. There was a straight shot towards the ledge, and the kid gunned for it.
Within a few quick steps, he jumped onto the ledge and leapt across the gap towards the Tiberius ship. His body landed on the deck of the ship breaking through it and falling into a bunch of baskets of oranges. There was a large bump on his head laying unconscious.
Amid the chaos of the ongoing battle, Sejanus and Orion had been focused on keeping the ship intact and handling the aftermath of Bluto’s attack. The clash between Tiberius and Bluto raged on, sending shockwaves that vibrated across the deck, but the two comrades remained focused.
Suddenly, a loud crash came from the far side of the ship as a figure plummeted through the deck, shattering crates and scattering oranges everywhere. Both Sejanus and Orion’s heads snapped toward the noise, their expressions shifting from alertness to confusion.
"What the hell was that?" Orion muttered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the broken crates. He quickly spotted the unconscious boy sprawled among the wreckage, oranges rolling around his body.
Sejanus, still alert to any immediate threats, kept his soot abilities on standby, a thin trail of dark clouds swirling subtly at his fingertips. "Looks like we’ve got ourselves a stowaway," he said, his tone somewhere between curiosity and irritation.
Orion, never one to miss a joke even in the middle of a fight, smirked. "Seems like he’s made himself at home with the fruit." He leaned down to inspect the boy, tapping him lightly on the cheek. "Hey, kid, you picked a hell of a time to take a nap. You’re on the wrong ship."
The kid was sprawled out with his tongue out of his mouth, eyes white with visible sleeping dragons flying around his lump sized bump on his head. From the sound of cannon fire, the boy sat up within an instant still in a dream.
"No Skadi-swan! COME BACK!" Just like that a burst of blood flew out his nose and caused him to crash into another set of floorboards within the ship knocking him out once again.
Bluto had only an instance to react as his body moved with the memorized instinct of a veteran. With a slight shift in his arms and a twist of his body, he reinforced his arms with more haki as he sacrificed the coverage of his legs. "Tekkai!!!" he yelled as his body turned as hard as steel. This defensive tactic seemed futile against the monstrous strength of Tiberius.
However, this wasn't a tactic to nullify the assault; instead, it was to continue to pressure Tuberius as the slanted arm reflected the blade like a cannonball bouncing off curved armor. Bluto's other arm caught the punch like a beartrap. However, this still wasn't enough to save Bluto as he felt blood trickle down his glancing forearm and the bruising of several ribs from the pirate's punch.
Bluto smiled through the pain as he clenched Tiberius's fist with an almost iron grip as he had ahold of Tiberius. "Did you do something?" He said it with a bald-faced lie. Kicked his legs, using Soru to attempt an instant tackle on Tiberius.
Bluto's defensive maneuver had been swift and clever, but Tiberius could feel the strain it had taken on the captain’s body. The pirate’s monstrous strength wasn't something to be brushed aside easily, and even Bluto’s hardened Haki and Tekkai defense weren’t enough to fully block the force behind the attack. As Bluto smirked through the pain and clamped down on Tiberius’s fist with his iron grip, the son of Dressrosa's face remained utterly unamused.
"Bold move for a dead man," Tiberius growled, feeling Bluto's grip tighten as the captain attempted a swift tackle using Soru.
In an instant, Bluto’s body blurred as he used his high-speed movement to throw his full weight at Tiberius. The attack came fast, but not fast enough to escape Tiberius’s Kenbunshoku Haki as his eyes glowed the trademark red. He planted his feet firmly on the deck, his massive frame remaining like an unmovable pillar.
"That’s not going to work." Tiberius’s voice was like gravel, low and dangerous.
With one swift motion, Tiberius shifted his body and brought his free arm up in a brutal counter as he began to apply Busoshoku Haki to his entire free arm but more specifcally his elbow as he launched toward's Bluto's neck and shoulder.
As Tiberius brought his elbow crashing down with terrifying force, he snarled, "Behold...Diamond Descent!"
The elbow strike, carrying the full weight of his strength and Haki, was designed to crush any opponent beneath its force, as if the wrath of the heavens themselves were bearing down.
As Tiberius threw his elbow, the captain used his kenbunshoku to react to the crushing attack with a tactical retreat. Tiberius would feel his elbow rip through the air as Bluto was gone before that attack could make contact. Of course, this meant Bluto had to concede at this moment to the younger man's assault.
"Did you think that would work?" He remarked, throwing back Tiberius's words like a mocking parrot. "You pirates all seem to be so obstinant. It'll please your ego with praise. That was an impressive technique. It would have done some nasty damage. That's if I was playing your game. However, I don't need to beat you to a pulp to prove a point." Bluto erupted into hybrid form as his wings showed the burn scars of lighting and a section of ragged feathers from the blade.
"Now, let's see you keep up with those sharp eyes of yours." Suddenly, Bluto was gone again, but this time, it was different. His pattern was far less trackable. He was trackable between jumps for a second before showing up somewhere else. This was the culmination of this training in Rokushiki, Kamisori. Mastery of instant 3D movement, and he was waiting for a moment of Tiberius tracking to be overwhelmed.
Tiberius narrowed his eyes as Bluto taunted him and vanished with rapid bursts of movement. He could feel the tension building in the air as the Marine captain zipped around him with erratic precision, each moment of Bluto’s disappearance challenging Tiberius’s ability to track.
But this was no ordinary battle.
Tiberius took a deep breath, his chest rising as he focused inward. The air around him seemed to hum as he called upon his Kenbunshoku Haki, his observation abilities sharpening to a fine point. His eyes softened, no longer chasing after Bluto’s fleeting form. Instead, Tiberius focused on the presence, the intent behind the movements.
"Playing hide-and-seek, are we?" he muttered to himself.
He began to sense Bluto’s subtle movements, the vibrations in the air, the flickers of fighting spirit. Despite Bluto's mastery of Kamisori, his unpredictable jumps couldn’t completely escape Tiberius’s observation.
"Got you."
In an instant, Tiberius pivoted on his heel and swung his sword with tremendous speed, not toward where Bluto was but toward where he would eventually be.
With the gift of slight prediction and maybe a bit of luck, Tiberius swung his sword at the space.. The sheer power of the strike unleashed a shockwave that tore through the air around him, aimed at intercepting Bluto mid-movement, disrupting his assault with brutal precision.
As the sword cut through the air, the glint of res pierced through the distorted afterimages of the captain. Kenbunshoku was a two-way street as he slipped back into sight, catching the blade in his beak.
Bluto, even if he'd never admit it, was impressed by Tiberius’s perception. It was a pain and had left the captain with few options to intercept or counter the slash. So, he played to it. Knowing his long avian feet had no grip he slid along it, moving with the arcing slash as it pushed him along.
At the apex of its momentum, Bluto turned in against it and violently ripped it from the prince's hands and flung it towards the central mast of Tiberius’s ship as it cut through the air and lodged halfway through the pillar of wood.
The Captain winced as he felt the corners of his beak bleed from the slicing pushing into his face. The pain nearly folded him as he had risked it to disarm Tiberius. However, he was still upright as he turned to face the prince, blood trickling down his lips.
Swooping in like a phantom, Riley managed to maneuver his way towards Tiberius’s blade catching it before it could plunge into the sea.
Landing on the deck the pirate moved like a wolf, rushing towards Bluto, leaping into the air, already spinning himself, clutching the large blade his arm gleamed with black. Riley using his strength, Riley rolled his shoulder creating a wide arching swing towards Bluto from above.
The rushing pressure from his swing was mighty, easily able to split the front end of the ship in two.
Bluto may have been turned away from Riley, however, his vision wasn't limited to just his eyes as he sensed the approaching arua of the swordsman as he was coming down on his head. Bluto spit out some blood as he focused his body and mind on conserving his limited stamina.
As the sizeable blade aimed to carve into this frame, Bluto transformed into a full shoebill as his proportions shifted, thinning his frame. With the change in form, the marine captain carefully swayed to the side and avoided the spinning blade. He felt the wind current brush his body as the sword was nearly his it's mark "Hello..." He croaked with a horse voice as he used his martial technique, Beak Cannon. In a blur of speed, Bluto smashed the blade into the ship's deck with his beak. He had used the pirate's strength to damage their boat, saving his energy as he turned Riley's attacks against the whole crew.
Sejanus, who had been silently observing the battle from the sidelines, stepped forward with his hands already glowing a dark, ashen color. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the damage. "Not on my watch."
With a sweep of his hand, thick black soot billowed from his body and swirled toward the damaged part of the ship. The soot quickly hardened into solid, obsidian-like constructs, wrapping themselves around the splintered beams and planks. The cracked sections fused back together, and the soot acted like a temporary but resilient adhesive, holding the ship together despite the intense damage.
Sejanus continued to maintain focus on his repair, but he glanced toward Tiberius. "I can hold the ship for now, but you better put an end to this."
Tiberius nodded, his body radiating with renewed energy. His Kenbunshoku Haki still burned hot, tracking Bluto's presence. His sword may have been temporarily lost, but he was far from helpless.
Launching himself from the deck, Tiberius closed the distance between him and Bluto with incredible speed. He had no intention of letting the Marine captain continue to toy with them. His fist glowed with an intense black sheen of Busoshoku Haki, and his muscles coiled like springs, preparing for a devastating strike.
"You're clever, Captain," Tiberius said as he soared toward Bluto, his voice calm but filled with menace. "But you won’t get away with this again."
In one swift motion, he unleashed a devastating punch, imbued with both his Haki and raw power, aimed directly at Bluto's center mass. The air around the punch rippled as if the very atmosphere bent to Tiberius's will, signaling the overwhelming force behind the attack.
"Imperial Breaker!" Tiberius bellowed, his voice echoing across the battlefield as the ground beneath him cracked from the force of his blow.
Meanwhile on Corvo's Ship...
Aboard the Marine ship, Corvo maintained a steady course as he kept the vessel afloat mid-air whilst they rained intermittent fire against the two pirate vessels. Truth be told, their ship was poorly equipped for any sustained barrage, and had changed strategies to only launch suppressive fire to maintain the focus of the pirate ships. All the while Corvo awaited for confirmation that his fellow Marines on the main ship had made landfall. Only then could they retreat. At the same time, he kept his kenbunshoku haki active as he focused on the battle below.
He trusted in the abilities of Bluto, and indeed saw this as an opportunity for the Captain to stretch his wings so to speak, and gain valuable experience fighting against powerful opponents. Corvo could have intervened, and by all means he should intervene now. But... he saw things differently. The up and coming Marines needed challenges like this, to grow, to become stronger, and Bluto had acquitted himself on Rockbell according to the reports and he had desired to see the Captain in action. Against the plethora of strong opponents, he was impressed by the man's showing. Therefore, unless the man's life was absolutely in peril, he would simply... observe.
Corvo had staked the purpose of their mission on him, and Bluto was not about to cower in the face of overwhelming odds. Could he truly put any of these beasts down in their current situation? That was unlikely, but for once, the captain could understand the critical fact about his failure at Rockbell. It had steeled his defiance against the odds.
"You're quick to jump in, a shame. You have powerful allies and good eyes, yet you lack forethought. " Bluto chided as he felt the rippling air that reverberated towards him. A devastating punch was rapidly closing the gap when Bluto's eyes flashed that same will as red irises cut through the haze around him. Bluto had done one thing right during this exchange; he'd stuck in. Tiberius's allies surrounded the captain, and that gave him leverage.
In his slimmer avian frame, Bluto dropped low and twisted around. He had planned something conniving. The moment his beak was in place, Bluto lifted under Riley's ass to launch him into the air and toward Tiberius's strike. It was dishonorable, but the captain wasn't going to play fair. Barbaric stunts of treachery were acceptable within the marine's book. One would expect an end to the captain's treachery, but there was more to this ploy. As Riley was flying through the air, Bluto used his body as a springboard as he used Soru to get on top of the pirate and kick off him, sending the swordsman into the sea.
His true intentions were revealed, Bluto was over Tiberius as his coiled neck lined up a haki-coated attack. "Let me teach you what putting your all into gets you. Beak Cannon!" With his shingan technique, Bluto's neck released its tension and shot his blackened beak toward the pirate's head.
Tiberius bent his knees and surged upward with explosive force, aiming to meet Bluto’s descending attack head-on. His observation haki focused intently on the incoming strike, reading the flow of the attack. With his right arm raised, blackened with concentrated Busoshoku Haki, Tiberius turned his body just enough to align the trajectory of Bluto's beak, preparing to absorb and deflect the impact.
At the last moment, Tiberius twisted his forearm, intercepting the Beak Cannon with a parry-like maneuver. The clash of Haki reverberated through the air, sparks flying as Tiberius redirected Bluto's force to the side, preventing a direct hit to his head.
As Bluto’s momentum carried him past, Tiberius pivoted in mid-air, swinging his left leg in a brutal roundhouse kick aimed directly at Bluto’s midsection. His leg shimmered with the dark gleam of Busoshoku Haki, amplifying the force of the strike.
"Monarch’s Judgment!" Tiberius roared, his voice booming as the air itself seemed to ripple under the weight of his counterattack. The kick wasn’t just meant to strike—it aimed to send Bluto hurtling into the mast or the sea.
Bluto sneared as he's deflected and continues to descend toward the coming kick. His kenbunshoku only afforded him seconds to react as he was left with few options to overcome this obstacle. Almost all his Rokushiki techniques would lead to a face full of deck outside of one. In those microseconds, the captain can only choose one defense. "Tekkai, Iron Crane!"
Bluto's avian form surged with an opaque black sheen as he wrapped his entire body in Busoshoku haki. The marine's muscles braced into a rigid and sturdy form as the kick smashed into his crossed wings. For Tiberius, it would feel as if he smashed his foot into a wall, but for Bluto, the force was far more severe.
The kick sent Bluto rocketing through the mast as his iron body hit the mast like a cannonball, breaking it in twain. One could assume this was a small victory for the captain, but as he smacked into the deck, there was a sick snap. His wings were full of hairline fractures and twitched with an uneasy movement. The captain's coat was shredded with large splinters as it was nothing but tatters.
His wings clipped, and his body wrecked, Bluto pulled himself off the deck with shakey defiance. He didn't speak, no quip or banter, just a conscious glare. One that was followed by a quivering but lively breath.
Tiberius landed gracefully on the battered deck, the remnants of his kick still reverberating through his leg. He rolled his foot, shaking off the dull ache from colliding with Bluto's iron-like defense. His crimson eyes bore into the marine captain, watching as Bluto dragged himself upright despite the evident toll the fight had taken.
The mast was shattered, Bluto’s wings barely functional, and yet, the man stood, his glare unwavering and his breath steady, albeit labored. Tiberius tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, not out of mockery but out of genuine respect.
“You’re tougher than you look, Captain,” Tiberius admitted, his deep voice carrying across the wrecked ship. “Most people would’ve stayed down after that… but not you.”
He cracked his neck, his expression turning solemn for a moment. “It’s easy to see why someone like you made it this far. You’re not just strong—you’ve got grit. And that? That’s something even I can respect.”
Tiberius shifted his stance, gripping his fists as his own determination flared. “But grit alone won’t be enough. If you’re not smart, Captain, you’re going to break yourself trying to prove a point.”
Tiberius' words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Bluto's bull-headed spirit drove him to step forward with no inkling of stopping to consider his actions. It was as if the captain was on autopilot as he could growl and click. He wasn't acting like himself at all as he seemed almost irresponsive to any of the pirate's words. That was when something came into focus, as the dust settled a vapor became more distinct a black smog seemed to radiate off the captain as this gaseous aura seemed to wreath the avian marine. For Corvo, Tiberius, and anyone else with busoshoku haki, they could sense two oddities. One was a lack of human intention, and the other a rising strength that seemed animalistic.
Bluto's conscious glare was replaced by a cold stare as the man was gone. Now something else was in control. The bird used soru to get close to Tiberius and thrust it's head forward in an attempt to close it's large beak around his neck.
Tiberius’s eyes narrowed sharply as he caught sight of the black smog radiating from Bluto. The shift in aura was unmistakable—this wasn’t a mere act of willpower but something far more primal, almost feral. His Observation Haki flared, sensing the lack of human intent and the overwhelming animalistic surge. As Bluto vanished with Soru, Tiberius instinctively braced, the predator’s snap of the beak aimed for his throat.
With precise timing, Tiberius twisted his body to the side, narrowly avoiding the lethal snap of Bluto’s beak. His left hand shot up, catching the base of Bluto’s beak, holding it just inches from his neck. Channeling his Busoshoku Haki into his free arm, Tiberius pivoted on his back foot and drove a devastating upward punch aimed directly at Bluto’s midsection.
Bluto's avian frame acted with predatory instinct as it thrashed at Tiberius's gripping of his beak. The large bird was ensnared, as Tiberius had indeed caught the beat with careful movements. However, instead of the human intent to dodge, the beast twisted its body in its messy scuffle. This resulted in the punch slipping past Bluto by inches as the bird swung its stalky leg into Tiberius's side, hitting with a sharp sting.
The kick wasn't in-human, but the way Bluto moved showed more how the captain's refined senses had let go of savage ferocity. The beast continued to scramble in an attempt to pry itself free.
The City Needs Me[]
Metropolis, an island located within the Grand Line of Paradise was home to many things, on the outer layer it was a place for media and journalists to explore the interesting stories and interviews the location had to offer. However, that didn't mean that it was the safest place in the world, in fact, it was the exact opposite.
Shootings, stabbings, robberies, and drug dealing, the island had it all. Being one large island-sized city, this was a hotspot for werecriminals from all around the world. It didn't help that Scarface took over the whole place, Being a high-ranking member of Blackrock owned by the Gotti Family. This allowed free reign from the Underworld to fill the streets with crime.
Yet Metropolis didn't just let this crime run free, there was a police task force independent from the World Government known as Ocean Police Department or OPD. The OPD actively combated the crime in the city, trying to ensure the safety of its people and the island. Like many nights the police found themselves at a late night crime scene.
There was a double homicide, witnesses say it was a shooting or some sort of gang violence. They blocked off the street corner about 2 blocks, using yellow caution tape creating a line of entry for the nosey crowd who wanted to see what the commotion was.
There was a whole dispatch unit team, forensics, and K9 units, along with your ground police and reporters on the scene. Pulling up to the scene was the commissioner of the OPD, Allen White. He was an older gentleman in his early to mid-fifties, he wore his badge around his neck on a silver chain. He was a bigger gentleman with brown, slicked-back hair, large square glasses, and a thick beard.
He wore a dark grey trench coat, a white dress shirt, and a pair of clean-pressed slacks. White got out of the taxi cab he took got over here and approached the scene.
"Give me an update everyone," White shouted everyone from the OPD now starting to fly around like worker bees.
"Double murder, gang violence, one is an alleged member of the Gatti's sir," A woman said handing him a bunch of files.
White looked through them, "No sign of our vigilante yet huh?"
"No sir, we haven't spotted any signs yet."
Folding back the files he handed them back to the woman, "Thank you, sweetheart," he moved her away as he continued onto the scene, "Alright everyone who isn't the feds leave. We have quotas to fill this week I don't mind handing out arrests."
All the citizens who stood outside in their pj's and robes started to leave the premises.
The moon hung high over Metropolis, casting a silvery glow over the chaotic island-city. Amidst the urban sprawl, the clamor of sirens and the flickering lights of police vehicles illuminated the night, creating an eerie backdrop for the unfolding drama below. Cipher perched on the edge of a rooftop, his figure cloaked in shadows, observing the scene with keen eyes.
Dressed in his signature dark and sleek trench coat, and his featureless mask, Cipher watched his vantage point, he could see the chaotic swirl of activity at the crime scene, a block of police tape cordoning off the area where the double homicide had occurred. He noted the presence of the Ocean Police Department—an independent force tasked with combating the rampant crime plaguing the island, but it was clear from their frantic movements that they were overwhelmed.
Cipher watched as Commissioner Allen White barked orders, a man trying to maintain control amid the chaos. Cipher’s instincts were sharp, and he could sense the tension in the air. This wasn’t just another gang shooting; something deeper was at play.
His eyes narrowed as he noticed a group of reporters gathering just outside the tape, vying for a glimpse of the unfolding drama. The sight of the media sparked a memory of the Gatti Family’s grip on the island—how they manipulated narratives to maintain their power. Cipher knew he couldn’t allow their influence to taint the investigation.
As the police began to push back the crowd, Cipher took a deep breath and moved. With fluidity and precision, he leaped from the rooftop, landing silently in the shadows of an alleyway just behind the scene. The sound of chaos muffled the soft thud of his landing, allowing him to slip through unnoticed.
Creeping along the edge of the crowd, he navigated past the K9 units and forensics teams, his eyes scanning for anything unusual. The air was thick with tension, and Cipher felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surging through his veins.
Using the crowd as cover, Cipher moved closer to the police barricade, finding an opportunity to slip behind the forensic team. As they focused on gathering evidence, he stealthily approached the area where the bodies had been found.
He knelt beside a discarded shell casing, his gloved fingers gently lifting it from the ground. The insignia etched onto the casing was distinctive, a mark that hinted at the type of weapon used in the shooting—a signature of the Gatti’s operations. Cipher took a mental note; this would be crucial evidence.
"You may be able to sneak past everyone else but not me," White said standing behind Cipher, "It's about time you showed up, there have been developments on the case we found a picture of some guy."
From his coat pocket, White handed Cipher a photograph, the image was of a small skinny man, with a lizard tattoo on his neck.
"You ever seen this guy?" White asked.
Cipher took the photograph, his masking hiding any emotion he could be conveying as he examined the small, skinny man with the lizard tattoo snaking around his neck. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. He goes by the name Gecko. He’s a known informant for Scarface, but his loyalty is as slippery as his name suggests.”
"Good any ideas of where he could be at?" White asked, having someone like Cipher was always good.
Cipher leaned against the wall, contemplating White’s question. He crossed his arms, his mind racing through the possibilities. “Gecko likes to operate in the shadows, but he has a few haunts he frequents when he needs to lay low.
“There’s the Rusty Spoon,” he said, recalling a dingy bar on the outskirts of the city known for its questionable clientele. “It’s a dive where the desperate gather. If he’s trying to avoid attention, he might be there, trying to sell information to the highest bidder.”
"Interesting, in the morning we will send a search party out for them," White said. Walking towards them was a young kid who was no older then 17 years old, he had headphones in and was carrying a duffle bag.
The boy paused seeing White and Cipher speaking to each other, he took a few steps back and then began to run away, "Wait!" White started to take off after the kid, "Cut him off down that alley way, nobody that's innocent runs!"
Cipher’s instincts kicked in as he spotted the kid making a break for it. He quickly calculated the path ahead and darted into action, moving with the fluidity of a shadow through the crowded streets. The alleyway was narrow and cluttered, providing the perfect cover for a swift pursuit.
“Get the officers on the perimeter!” Cipher shouted to White as he pursued the fleeing boy. He could hear the distant sounds of the Ocean Police Department mobilizing, but he focused on the chase, pushing himself to close the gap between them.
The kid was fast, but Cipher was faster. He anticipated the boy’s next moves, his own training and instincts honed from years of navigating the criminal underbelly. Just as the boy turned sharply into the alley, Cipher leaped onto a nearby wall, using his momentum to propel himself ahead.
The boy was slick and witty, with the bag now around his shoulder the boy turned a corner into an alleyway, he kicked off the walls bouncing around reaching the top of the roof. He then started to make a gun across the roof tops.
White was stuck on the ground, "Damn I gotta find another way, but this kid doesn't know these streets like I do!" He started to take the opposite direction of the kid. For now he had to leave the chase for Cipher.
Cipher wasted no time. As soon as the boy darted up the wall and made a break for it across the rooftops, Cipher was already in pursuit. His movements were precise and efficient, gliding up the side of the building with practiced ease. The moonlight barely caught his silhouette as he ascended, his black cloak billowing like a shadow in the wind.
On the rooftops, the boy was fast, his movements erratic and unpredictable as he leaped from one building to the next, using his small size to his advantage. Cipher, however, remained calm, his eyes locking onto the kid's every step. His tactical mind calculated the most efficient path to intercept him.
"He's fast, but not fast enough," Cipher muttered to himself as he picked up speed.
The rooftops of Metropolis were familiar territory to Cipher. He'd hunted across this urban jungle before, and every corner, every ledge was etched into his memory. The kid, though clever, was playing a dangerous game.
The rainy night caused the floor to become wet and slippery, although the boy was above average in terms of athletics and agility, turning a nasty corner he slipped smashing his head upon the corner of the ledge building, falling off the roof, and then landing onto the concrete floor of the alley.
The kid wheezed trying to move, his body was slow to do so. "Shit!" He said crawling towards a ledge to brace himself up, "I can't get caught!"
Cipher leapt to the edge of the rooftop, watching the boy tumble off and hit the concrete below with a sickening thud. The rain poured down harder, drenching the scene in a cold, unforgiving haze.
"Dammit," Cipher muttered under his breath.
In a swift motion, Cipher vaulted off the roof, using a fire escape to descend quickly, landing silently in the alley where the boy lay struggling. The kid was wheezing, clearly in pain, but still determined to crawl away, his hands reaching for the ledge to pull himself up.
Cipher strode over, his boots splashing in the puddles that had formed in the alley. He knelt beside the kid before speaking. “You’re done,” Cipher said firmly, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain.
Sirens from the OPD were drawing closer, this looked bad. Cipher was standing over a minor let alone a beaten-up one. Without a medical professional soon he might die to his injuries. With White going missing he could take the boy or he could try to question the kid and avoid the cops.
Cipher glanced down at the boy, his breathing shallow and irregular. The kid was in worse shape than he'd initially thought. Blood mixed with the rainwater pooling around him, and the sirens of the OPD were getting closer, their wailing echoing through the narrow alley.
Cipher knew the police showing up would complicate things. He'd be questioned, scrutinized, and possibly detained for standing over a beaten-up minor. White had disappeared into the night, likely still trying to find another route around to them, but Cipher didn’t have the luxury of waiting.
The boy’s eyes fluttered open, barely clinging to consciousness. Cipher could see the fear in them—the kind of fear that told him the kid didn’t have much time.
"Damn it," Cipher muttered to himself, weighing his options. If he left the boy here for the cops, they'd likely save him, but the kid might clam up out of fear or get scooped up by Scarface’s goons before Cipher could get any real answers. And if the kid died, any lead on Scarface's operations could die with him.
With a sharp breath, Cipher made his decision. He crouched down next to the boy, gripping his jacket collar. "Listen to me," he said, his voice low and urgent. "You’re not going to die tonight. But I need answers before they get here. You want out from this poverty, right? You talk now, or they’ll make sure you never get a chance to.”
"@^#*@@(#&)$_&$" The boy tried to speak but his slurred speech made it hard for Cipher to understand, "B-bag..." were the final words that came from the boys lips before he passed out. There was a visible gash across his forehead leading towards his right eyebrow.
The police were around the corner, pulling up cars and slamming of doors followed by the footsteps drew closer to them.
Cipher, acting quickly, knelt down beside the boy. His eyes scanned the deep gash across the kid's forehead, blood dripping down toward his right eyebrow. The boy was out cold now, and his final, slurred word stuck with Cipher—"Bag..."
Sirens grew louder, cars pulling up, doors slamming. The police were only seconds away.
Cipher reached into one of his utility pouches, pulling out a small first-aid kit. His movements were swift and efficient, honed from years of dealing with situations like this. He pulled out a bandage and carefully pressed it over the boy's forehead, covering the gash and trying to slow the bleeding. The bandage wasn't perfect, but it would have to do for now.
With the kid barely conscious, Cipher knew the boy couldn’t walk on his own. He had no choice.
Cipher quickly scooped the kid up in his arms. The boy was light, but time was against them.
The footsteps of the approaching officers were just around the corner. Cipher glanced upward toward the fire escape, knowing he'd have to move fast. Without a sound, he leaped, using his grappling hook to pull them both up to the rooftop just as the first officers entered the alleyway below.
Cipher perched on the ledge, rain pouring down on him as he looked back toward the scene. The boy’s breathing was still weak, but he was stable—for now.
"You're not dying tonight, kid," Cipher muttered under his breath, before disappearing into the shadows with his burden, heading toward his safehouse where he could get the boy proper care and get more information.
The chirping of the IV, dripped into the boys arm, his fluids and health recovery was successful, he would only walk away with a broken head and a nasty head scar.
"Whe-where am I? My head, its throbbing," the boy said, struggling to open his weakened eyes.
He was laying in a recovery room. The room was dimly lit with only a few strobe lights attached to the ceiling illuminating the large space, a few large screens were off in the distance. He was shirtless and had bandages around his ribs and head, he was still wearing the pants he came in.
Mustering the strength to move himself up, he placed his hand onto his head, "Yikes dizzy," he pivoted his waist swinging his legs off the bed he was laying in. It was a small thin cott.
"What is this place..."
Out of the shadows stepped Cipher, his body obscured by the dim light but unmistakable from the silhouette. His trench coat billowed slightly as he approached, moving with the silent grace that only someone like him could. The boy would have recognized him instantly—he’d seen the vigilante before, but never this close.
"This place," Cipher's voice was low, calm, but carried an undeniable weight, "is the only reason you're not dead right now."
Cipher paused, standing a few feet away, watching the boy carefully. "You took a bad fall. You're lucky I was there. Otherwise, you'd be lying in a morgue right now instead of a recovery room."
Fear rushed through the boy as he slowly began to back up onto the bed, his injuries hurt, but the paranoia was worse. "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?"
Cipher didn't move, his dark figure looming like a shadow. Despite the lack of facial features, his mere presence seemed to pierce through the boy, as his posture remained calm. He had seen this reaction countless times before—fear of the unknown, of what they couldn't control. Cipher understood fear, but he also knew how to use it.
"I don't want to hurt you," Cipher's voice was low, calm, but there was an edge to it. "But that depends on you." Cipher said as he moved closer to the boy, his body more visible now. "I want to know why you were running."
His heart raced, with every inch Cipher took closer towards him. His talk of good will carried an violent undertone if he said the wrong things. He had to think quickly and rashly, "I-got scared, was a bad street to turn on."
“Bad street?” Cipher echoed, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not a good enough excuse for running. You were scared of something—what were you really afraid of?”
"I had to alright! I had no other choice!" The boy shouted, his eyes started to swell with tears, "T-th-ee-yy..." He broke down into a sob.
Cipher stood unmoved, his expression hardened, watching as Derek crumbled before him. The boy's sobs echoed through the dimly lit room, each gasp filled with guilt and fear. Cipher remained silent for a moment, letting the weight of the situation sink in.
“They what?” Cipher's voice, though calm, carried an edge. “Finish your sentence, Derek. If you're in danger, tell me. If you want out, this is your last chance.”
"Wh-o's De-erek?" The boy sobbed, "Th-ey too-k my fami-ly, My da-d he owed them some mon-ey." The boy struggled to speak in his shocked and scared state of mind.
Cipher froze for a moment, the name “Derek” lingering in the air, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. The boy's broken sobs echoed in the dim room, and Cipher's mind flickered back—Derek. His former "sidekick." A name he hadn’t spoken in years, one that carried too much weight and pain.
Cipher clenched his jaw. Focus. This isn’t Derek. But the boy's tears and trembling voice reminded him of a younger, more innocent Derek, long before everything had gone wrong.
He stepped back slightly, softening his stance, realizing the boy in front of him wasn’t just another suspect—he was scared, alone, and being used by people who didn’t care if he lived or died. Cipher let out a slow breath, pushing down the memories that tried to claw their way up.
"I—" Cipher started, his voice less harsh now. He crouched down again, more carefully this time, his intense gaze softening just a fraction. "I called you the wrong name. That’s on me."
"What’s your name, kid?" Cipher asked, his tone gentler now, trying to meet the boy where he was.
"M-Maximus," he uttered wiping the tears from his eyes and coming together with some composure, "They took my family, I was forced to move a product for them, when I saw the cops I ran. I swear that's all I know."
Cipher took a slow breath, eyes narrowing slightly as he processed Maximus’ words. His instinct told him there was more to this, but he could see the kid was on the edge of breaking down completely. Pushing too hard now would only make things worse.
"Maximus," Cipher said calmly, crouching down to Maximus’ level again. "I believe you, but I need more. What kind of product? And where did you pick it up from? Anything you can tell me will help me get your family back."
"It's in the bag I had, I never checked the bag, they told me that they would hurt my family if I ever did. All I know is that they tend to hang out at a local biker gang bar up town."
Cipher nodded slightly at Maximus' words, processing the new information. "A biker bar, huh?" he muttered to himself, already forming a plan in his mind. Without saying much more, he turned and walked over to his workbench where his computer was set up, sleek and advanced. He quickly started typing, accessing his database of criminal hotspots and known locations connected to gang activity.
The sound of keys clicking filled the room as Cipher brought up a map of the city. His eyes scanned the screen, narrowing down the list of potential biker bars uptown that could be a meeting spot for the Gotti family or their associates.
"Let’s see… 'Iron Hogs,' 'Devil's Roost'... Ah, here we go," Cipher said, leaning closer to the screen as he clicked on a bar marked in red. "The Rusty Nail. Known for hosting the worst of the worst—bikers, dealers, the occasional arms trafficker."
Cipher locked the location in his mind, but before heading out, something else lingered at the edge of his thoughts: the bag Maximus mentioned. Turning to it, he approached the duffel bag, which had been tossed aside during the boy’s recovery.
Unzipping it cautiously, Cipher peeled back the top and peered inside. His suspicions were confirmed. Inside were multiple small packages, each one carefully wrapped and sealed. He recognized the substances immediately, some of them dangerous and illegal drugs circulating the underworld.
Cipher’s face hardened as he zipped the bag back up. This was more than just a simple delivery. Whoever had Maximus running these errands was dealing in extremely dangerous goods, and the consequences for the city could be catastrophic if they continued unchecked.
He turned back to Maximus. "You were moving some serious stuff," he said, his voice calm but stern. "Sub-Zero, Lemon Juice—highly illegal. They weren’t just using you to scare you; they were banking on you not knowing what you were involved in."
"..." Max just hung his head in shame, "Am I going to jail now?" He asked.
Cipher looked at Maximus, seeing the shame and fear etched across his face. He considered the boy’s question for a moment, the room falling into a heavy silence. The kid was scared—no doubt he’d been pulled into something far beyond his control. Normally, the idea of handing someone like him over to the authorities wouldn’t be out of the question, but Cipher had a different thought brewing in his mind.
“No,” Cipher finally said, his tone calculated but firm. “You’re not going to jail. At least, not yet.”
Cipher crouched down, meeting Max’s eyes with a steady gaze. “You still have their trust, right? Whoever gave you this bag doesn’t know what happened. They’re expecting you to deliver that product. That’s where you come in.”
——
It was the following night Maximus was sent by Cipher to drop off the cash from the drugs to the hideout.
The Nusty Nail. The bar was blaring music from in the inside, its tunes carrying to the open rain air.
It was country music, there was several motorcycles parked outside the establishment, each marked with a lizard and a golden “G”. There was also several other people standing outside.
Maximus took a deep breath in, “Alright Max, calm and steady like before. Pay the guy, and leave.”
He crossed the street and entered the bar passing through the first wave of people. The bar was packed the moment he stepped foot inside.
Its lights were shunting blue and purple, pool tables and arcade games filled the establishment. The usual suspects as the last time he was here, bikers and Mafia men.
He made his way through the tight crowd, “Excuse me, pardon me,” he exclaimed passing by one after the other.
The back of the bar had two body guards, they were massive burly men.
“I’m here to see the gecko.” Maximus flashed a bag of cash, the guards eyes raised and let him through the back door.
The hardest part was over, but the challenge has yet to come. He walked toward a back rooms, there was women wearing little clothes in every other room, kissing on men or women.
Maximus felt strange in a place like this but he had a job to do. The final room was covered in a bead door which he brushed himself through.
There sitting in a chair was a thin skinny man with a lizard tattoo on his neck. He had a mullet with black glasses.
He sat in a booth with a woman on his lap, the girl looked rather uncomfortable as she quickly got up as Max entered the room.
“Oh come on babes!” The man said to his girl as she left the room.
“Way to go cock block have you no sense? Sit and take this,” the man said.
He moved on his seat allowing for Max to sit, he then put a file of white powder on the table, snorting it shortly afterward.
Max scrunched his face, “I’d rather not,” Max tossed the bag on the table. “I want out Gecko. Release my family.”
Gecko reached into the black bag and saw the massive amounts of cash in the bag. Much more than the drugs he gave him.
“Where did you get this mate?”
Before Gecko could react, a shadow emerged from behind him, as if appearing from the very air itself. Cipher moved with the precision and silence of a ghost. His arm looped around Gecko’s neck in a lightning-fast motion, locking the man into a tight chokehold.
“He got it from me” Cipher said in a low and growling voice.
Gecko’s eyes bulged as he struggled for breath, his hands instinctively clawing at Cipher’s arm. The man’s confidence evaporated in an instant, replaced by panic as Cipher tightened his grip, his face a mask of cold determination.
“Maximus,” Cipher said quietly but firmly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet commanding. “Lock the door. Now.”
The murmur of the bar outside faded into the background as Cipher shifted his hold slightly, allowing Gecko just enough air to sputter.
“You’re done giving orders,” Cipher whispered into Gecko’s ear, his voice chillingly calm. “We’re going to have a little talk. And if you’re smart, you’ll answer my questions before you pass out.”
Maximus ran towards the door, reaching his hand out he locked the door while sticking a metal bat through the handles so that way nobody could get in.
"You fu-ckin prick! Your family is going to get it once they find out," Gecko said his pale skin turning a bright red.
Without a word, Cipher tightened his grip on Gecko's neck, the threat on Maximum's family's fate lingering in the air. But Cipher wasn’t rattled. He'd heard men like Gecko make empty threats before, and they always crumbled under pressure.
With a sharp movement, Cipher yanked Gecko forward, then slammed his face down onto the desk with a sickening thud. The crack of bone against wood echoed in the room as blood spattered across the surface. Gecko let out a muffled groan, his glasses falling to the side, now askew and smeared with blood.
Cipher leaned in closer, his voice cold and measured, the calm before a storm. "You seem to think you’re in control here, Gecko. But the moment you decided to play this game, you lost. Now, I’ll ask again."
Cipher pressed his weight down on the back of Gecko’s head, pinning him against the desk. "Who are you working for? Names. Locations. And don't make me ask a third time."
Gecko smiled showing his bloody nose leaking into his mouth and staining his teeth. “Bite me!” He said not giving into the interrogation.
From underneath the table a small button was pressed, that released a silent distress call to the whole bar.
”If you think I would rat, you got the wrong guy. I know who you are Cipher! Hahaha!”
Cipher sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration as Gecko grinned defiantly. "You just couldn't make this easy, could you?"
In one swift, brutal motion, Cipher grabbed Gecko’s arm and twisted it behind his back with a sickening snap. The cracking of bone was followed by Gecko’s agonized scream, his cocky grin vanishing in an instant as pain overtook him.
Cipher, his voice calm but laced with menace, leaned in close. "This is your last chance, Gecko. If I have to ask a fourth time, I won’t stop with just your arm. You know what I’m capable of."
"And Maximus, look around his office. See if you can find anything" Cipher said as he applied more pressure to Gecko's broken limb.
Max began to search the place, knocking over cabinets and other items, but this was a back lounge bar area. There was no way they would stash anything important here.
As Cipher pulled on the thugs arm, he could feel the joints pulling and popping before it fully dislocated, "AGGRRHHH! To hell with you bastard!" Just then the sounds of clicking came from behind the doors, "fire".
Soon a thrusting of bullets riddled the room, a shower of fire coming across them all. "GET DOWN!" Max shouted landing onto the floor crawling on his stomach.
The barrage of bullets tore through the thin walls, splintering wood and sending shards flying everywhere. Cipher yanked Gecko down behind the desk, using him as a shield while bullets whizzed through the air. Max, crawling on his stomach, flattened himself against the floor, narrowly avoiding the gunfire.
"Stay low!" Cipher barked, his calm composure turning razor-sharp as he assessed the situation. He pressed Gecko harder against the floor, his hand never loosening its grip on the thug's dislocated arm. The pain kept Gecko subdued, groaning in agony beneath him.
Cipher scanned the room, noting that there was no real cover aside from the flimsy desk, which was already being chipped away by the gunfire. They needed a way out—and fast. His eyes darted to Max, who was near the bar’s back storage closet, just across the room.
"Max!" Cipher shouted over the gunfire, "there's a window in that closet, but you need to move fast and take this sack of shit with you!"
Cipher turned his attention back to Gecko, leaning down close to his ear. "I’m not done with you yet," he growled before slamming Gecko’s head into the ground, knocking him out cold. With that, Cipher grabbed a nearby overturned table, using it as a temporary shield before tossing Gecko's body to Max.
"Go! Now!" Cipher ordered Max, bracing himself as he prepared to return fire or engage anyone who burst through the door.
Max quickly followed his instructions but due to his injuries carrying Gecko made it all more challenging, but adrenaline was coursing through his veins, in order to survive at this point he needed to get out. He dragged the body across the floor into the closet. He kicked open the back window and prepared getting Gecko through the window.
"Where should I go," he asked Cipher one last time before leaving the establishment.
Cipher kept his eyes fixed on the door, his ears picking up the rapid footsteps of reinforcements closing in. He glanced back at Maximus, who was struggling to shove Gecko through the narrow window.
“Take him to the rendezvous point at the old shipping yard. The place is called Davey Jones Locker.,” Cipher said, his voice steady despite the chaos. “There’s an abandoned container marked with a red X—hide there until I come for you. Do not stop, do not look back. Got it?”
Not waiting for an answer, Cipher continued. "I'll cover you. Now go." Cipher said as he turned his attention back to the door, just as the final click of a lock being disengaged signaled the entrance of more enemies. He readied himself, prepared to give Max the time he needed to escape.
Max nodded his head and exited through the back window, landing on his two feet the impact sending a shock through his ribcage, he grabbed Gecko and searched his pockets, there he found a set of keys. Clicking them he heard a parking noise going off nearby, it was his motorcycle. He picked up Gecko, luckily for him he was light.
Crossing the parking garage he threw him onto the back of the bike and started it. The loud engine caught the attention of the other bikers, who drew their pistols out and began to fire towards him.
Bullets whisked past them, as he speed off in the night, the chopper cutting up the pavement towards the rendezvous point.
Meanwhile back at the bar, Cipher was still caught in the backroom of the establishment, the only way of getting out meant through the front door. Of course it wouldn't be easy. The firing seized for a moment as the gangsters began reloading their weapons.
Cipher smirked beneath his mask, knowing the lull in gunfire meant they were reloading. It was the opportunity he needed. Without hesitation, he reached into his coat and tossed a smoke bomb toward the door. The canister hissed as thick, dark clouds billowed out, filling the room and seeping under the door. The smoke was so dense it created a near-blanket of darkness.
He moved swiftly, with the calculated precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. As the door burst open and the first man stumbled in, the biker coughed, squinting through the smoke. Cipher was already on him. Silent and fast, he delivered a brutal elbow to the man’s throat, cutting off his air instantly. The man dropped to his knees, clutching at his neck, but Cipher’s boot met his face, sending him unconscious to the floor.
More men poured into the room, blinded by the smoke, their footsteps heavy and disoriented. Cipher crouched low, his senses sharp as he zeroed in on their movements. The second man, a burly figure with a scar running across his face, swung blindly, a heavy pipe in his hand. Cipher slipped under the swing, his movements fluid and controlled, like a shadow.
He came up behind the thug and slammed the back of his fist into the base of the man’s skull, followed by a quick, snapping knee to the man’s ribs. The crack of bones breaking echoed through the room. The man gasped in pain, but Cipher didn’t let up, spinning and delivering a powerful kick to his temple, sending the thug crashing into a nearby table.
By now, the others had realized Cipher was in the smoke, and one of them tried to flank him from the left. Cipher heard the faint scuffle of boots on the floor, and as the attacker lunged with a knife, Cipher caught his wrist mid-air, twisting the arm until the man screamed in agony. With a sharp movement, Cipher disarmed him, the knife clattering to the floor. A brutal palm strike to the nose followed, sending blood spraying as the man's body crumpled.
The chaos of the fight unfolded in waves. Cipher danced between his enemies, reading their movements with almost supernatural clarity. Another thug rushed at him, swinging a chain wildly. Cipher ducked the attack and, with lightning-fast reflexes, seized the chain. Using the man’s own momentum, Cipher yanked him forward and drove his knee into the man’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. As the thug doubled over, Cipher slammed the chain around his neck, twisting it tight before delivering a crushing punch to his face, rendering him unconscious.
The remaining bikers, disoriented and panicking, fired wildly into the smoke, bullets ricocheting off walls and furniture. Cipher used the confusion to his advantage, slipping behind one of the shooters and grabbing him by the back of the head. He slammed the thug’s face into the wall, the force leaving a smear of blood as the man crumpled to the ground. Another attacker swung a chair at him, but Cipher caught it mid-swing, snapping it over his knee before delivering a bone-crushing kick to the attacker’s chest, sending him sprawling.
Cipher was like a phantom moving through the cemetery, he collected the lives of the biker gang one by one. His killer instincts and combat prowess were unmatched and akin to a naturally trained assassin. The detective reached the final entrance to the establishment, with the smoke cleared and the bar doors swinging open the remaining smoke spilled out of the room, revealing a bloodbath of wounded men and broken bones.
The police sirens were off in the distance, of course a riddle of gunfire would draw their attention. Cipher had to move fast, being somewhat behind Maximus, the kid would be almost there.
Cipher sprinted out of the bar, the scent of gunpowder and blood lingering in the air as he exited into the cool night. The distant wail of police sirens grew louder, a reminder that time was of the essence. He cast one last glance back at the chaotic scene—bodies sprawled across the floor, some still groaning in pain while others lay motionless. The bar had turned into a battlefield, and he had played his part to perfection.
He dashed across the parking lot, moving with the silent grace of a shadow. The moonlight flickered against the metal of his gear, but he was careful to stay low, blending into the darkness. His heart raced, not just from the exertion but from the weight of responsibility he felt for Maximus. The kid had proven his worth, but he was still just a boy, and Cipher knew the dangers that lurked in the night.
Cipher's destination was the shipping yard just a few blocks away. It was a maze of containers and industrial debris, an ideal place for a clandestine rendezvous. He navigated the dimly lit streets, listening intently for the sound of engines or any sign that Max had run into trouble. With every step, he silently prayed that the kid had made it to safety.
As he approached the edge of the shipping yard, Cipher slowed his pace, moving carefully to avoid detection. The towering containers loomed overhead, casting long shadows that danced in the light of the street lamps. He scanned the area, looking for any sign of Maximus or the motorcycle.
Yet there he was, sitting on his bike with the Gecko gone. He was cut up pretty bad, it seemed that somehow managed to get away from Max. The kid hung his head low, and was cussing to himself, legs tapping away waiting for Cipher.
Cipher arrived at the docks, his eyes immediately locking onto Maximus, who sat slouched on his bike. The kid looked rough—cuts on his arms, a few bruises, and the telltale signs of a fight. But worse than his injuries was the look of defeat on his face. Max was muttering to himself, his legs shaking nervously as he tapped his feet against the ground, cursing under his breath.
Cipher’s heart sank, but frustration quickly bubbled to the surface. He stalked over, his fists clenched, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Where the hell is Gecko?” Cipher asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
"He got away, there was a tracker on the him or something, there were three guys. They weren't human."
Cipher froze for a moment, Max's words sinking in.
"Not human?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean, 'not human'?"
"What do you mean, what do I mean? THEY WEREN'T HUMAN! Creature like." Max said frustrated as ever.
Cipher could feel the tension rising as Max's frustration boiled over. "Creature-like…" Cipher repeated, more to himself than to Max. His mind whirled with possibilities: bioengineered soldiers, supernatural entities, or something even more sinister. There had been whispers about underground labs experimenting with human augmentation and devil fruits, but if what Max was describing was true, this was beyond mere enhancements.
"Alright, calm down," Cipher said, though his own thoughts were far from calm. He quickly processed the new information. Whatever they were, these creatures posed a serious threat. This wasn't just a drug ring anymore; this was a larger, darker operation.
Cipher tapped a small device on his wrist, activating the remote signal for his armored car. "We need to regroup. I’ve got a safehouse not far from here," Cipher said, his tone steady but his mind racing. The car’s quiet hum confirmed it had been summoned.
"After we get there I'm going to give you some upgrades." Cipher spoke as his armored car, sleek and dark, appeared in the distance, its headlights cutting through the rain as it approached.
Cipher glanced around, scanning the dark shipping yard, already expecting trouble. "We need to figure out what we’re dealing with," Cipher muttered. "Whatever they are, they're not something we've faced before. This is more than just a gang—this could be a full-blown monster operation."
As the car arrived, Cipher opened the door and motioned for Max to get inside. "We'll figure this out. But first, we need to stay alive long enough to do it."
The car’s interior was high-tech, with reinforced steel and bulletproof glass, outfitted with surveillance monitors and weapons stashed in hidden compartments. Cipher slid into the driver’s seat, glancing at Max as waited for the boy to get into the passenger side.
Pirate's Ahoy[]
September 3rd, Drumlil Island
The storm pirates arrived towards the shores of Drumlil, docking their ship in its waters. Byakuro decided it would be best if someone stayed and watched the ship while the others headed into the island. With that Yushin, Ganon, Rakul, Shimiki, and Ai were the mission's squad. Yushin was eager to start the journey ahead.
The storm pirates arrived on the east side of the island, a flat plain of grass as far as the eye could see, and off in the distance was a large mountain that could be seen from the shore.
"That must be it right?" Yushin asked.
Ganon stared at the distant mountain, then turned to Yushin with a bemused look. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I wasn't steering this ship. That was Rakul's job!" he said, throwing his hands up in mock frustration.
He glanced over at Rakul, who was surveying the surroundings, and continued with a smirk, "I just go where I'm told and hit things. You're asking the wrong guy, Captain." Ganon crossed his arms, still eyeing the mountain. "But hey, it does look like the kinda place where some crazy treasure might be hiding. So, I guess we’ll find out."