The Florian Triangle was infamous for its dangers. The merchant ship Starlight, under the command of Captain Joey Fello, initially attempted to skirt around this treacherous region. However, as night fell, it became clear that such efforts were futile. Without anyone noticing, a thick fog had silently risen around the ship.
In the captain's cabin, the navigator, under the watchful eyes of both Captain Joey Fello and the ship's owner, Portia, nervously defended himself. "The Florian Triangle practically blankets the entire route. Avoiding it was always going to be difficult. Without a familiar course to follow, it's not my fault that we failed."
Joey Fello's lips twitched, as if he wanted to berate the navigator. However, his extensive sailing experience reminded him that in such situations, the navigator's expertise was indispensable. Swallowing his anger, he turned to Portia and said, "He's right. Our attempt to bypass the Florian Triangle was always just that—an attempt. But don't worry. As long as we follow the Log Pose, a little fog won't stop us."
Portia dabbed a delicate white handkerchief, embroidered with lace, against her temples, wiping away the faint sheen of sweat. Though her face still showed traces of worry, Joey Fello's professional demeanor left her with no choice but to trust him. Changing the subject, she remarked, "Have you noticed that it feels warmer since the fog rolled in?"
Joey Fello thought for a moment before replying, "The fog in the Florian Triangle is perpetual. It's probably different from the usual mist you'd encounter at sea. It should be nothing to worry about, Miss Portia."
As the three conversed, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from outside. Joey Fello's brow furrowed deeply. He strode to the door and flung it open, only to find a sailor standing there, hand raised as if about to knock. The sailor froze, startled by the sudden appearance of the captain.
"What's going on?" Joey Fello demanded, his expression dark. From the sailor's hurried steps, he had assumed something serious had happened aboard the ship.
The sailor hesitated for a moment before his face lit up with excitement. "Captain, come and see! There's something good!"
Joey Fello shot him a skeptical look. Portia, who had walked up behind him, asked curiously, "What kind of good thing?"
"You'll have to come see for yourselves!" the sailor replied, turning and heading toward the bow. Intrigued, Portia followed, while Joey Fello hesitated briefly to issue instructions to the navigator, ordering him to keep a close eye on the Log Pose during their absence. Only then did he leave the cabin.
At the bow, a crowd of sailors had already gathered. Among them, the three rescued "fishermen"—William, Gin, and Selkirk—were peeking curiously from a distance, craning their necks to see what the commotion was about. The sailors' excited chatter reached Joey Fello and Portia long before they arrived.
Portia cast a questioning glance at her bodyguard, Clark, who responded with a peculiar shake of his head, as if unsure how to explain.
Joey Fello pushed his way through the gathered sailors, clearing a path for himself and Portia. Only then did they see what had everyone so excited: a somewhat weathered wooden barrel, tightly bound with rope, with a tattered flag planted on top.
"'A Gift from the Sea God'?" Portia murmured, reading the large characters emblazoned on the flag. She looked puzzled. "What is this?"
"It's an offering to the Sea God, made by sailors to pray for safe voyages," Joey Fello explained, tapping the barrel lightly with his forefinger. "It's also known as a gift from the sea. These barrels are filled with provisions like dried food and liquor. For those who find themselves shipwrecked at sea, discovering one of these drifting barrels can be a lifesaver. Sailors believe that encountering such a barrel is a sign of good fortune."
"But isn't it an offering? Wouldn't it be inappropriate for us to take it?" Portia asked.
"It's fine as long as we refill it with food and liquor before setting it adrift again. The Sea God won't hold it against us," Joey Fello reassured her. He then patted the barrel and loudly addressed the surrounding sailors. "Alright, lads, it seems our voyage is destined to be smooth sailing. Even the Sea God himself is watching over us, sending us a barrel of fine liquor just as we enter the Florian Triangle to cheer us on!"
The sailors laughed heartily. Life at sea was fraught with unpredictable dangers, especially on the Grand Line, where the weather could change in an instant. Coupled with the existence of Devil Fruits, most seafarers were at least somewhat superstitious. The timely appearance of the Sea God's offering, especially when the Starlight was running low on supplies, felt like a blessing. The symbolic significance alone was enough to lift the crew's spirits without requiring much encouragement from their captain.
One eager sailor immediately drew a knife and cut the ropes binding the barrel. Another carefully removed the flag bearing the words "A Gift from the Sea God" and placed it reverently on the deck. A few sailors even bowed respectfully to the battered flag.
Portia, Clark, Joey Fello, and the rest of the crew watched expectantly as the barrel was pried open.
Bang!
The moment the lid was removed, there was a sudden explosion. A burst of smoke erupted from the barrel's opening, and a small projectile shot skyward at incredible speed. It detonated with a loud bang, transforming into a dazzling red flare that illuminated the dark night sky like a miniature sun.
A signal flare!
The bright light from the flare cast stark shadows on the faces of those gathered on deck. The sailors' expressions ranged from confusion to unease. Portia and her bodyguard seemed at a loss, while William, Gin, and Selkirk exchanged knowing glances, their expressions unreadable.
"It's here," William murmured almost imperceptibly, his gaze shifting to Joey Fello.
The captain's face had turned grim. Sensing trouble, he leaned over to peer inside the barrel, only to find it empty—no food, no liquor.
A cold sense of foreboding gripped Joey Fello. It was obvious to anyone with a shred of common sense that this was a deliberate trap, designed to reveal their location.
He quickly straightened and shouted toward the lookout stationed in the crow's nest. "Do you see any other ships nearby?"
"The fog is too thick! I can't see anything!" came the panicked reply.
By now, even the sharpest minds or most seasoned sailors among the crew had realized something was amiss.
Grinding his teeth, Joey Fello ordered the sailors on deck to wake the rest of the crew and prepare for action. He also instructed them to increase their speed and put as much distance as possible between the Starlight and their current location.
For those who make their living at sea, the natural elements pose constant threats. But the greatest danger often comes not from the sea itself, but from the people who traverse it, each with their own hidden agendas.
Under the looming threat of an unknown force revealed by the signal flare, the Starlight sped away, only to plunge deeper into the impenetrable fog of the Florian Triangle.
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