The little sailboat slipped from the harbor. I tied off the canvas and eased her nose toward open water. The weather was kind—steady breeze, small waves. Hand on the helm, I let the simple rhythm soak in.
The relaxation didn't last. Sailing solo meant keeping the heading myself, eyes on wind and current without a break. Tough work. Fine—find a quiet patch for the night and anchor up.
By dusk I found a calm stretch, dropped canvas, and cooked. After eating, I sprawled on a deck chair. First night alone at sea—fresh, a little strange. The light wind rocked me to sleep. At dawn, I woke to find we'd drifted a little. No big deal.
Breakfast, then back on course. By nightfall, Monlan Island rose ahead. I slid into port, paid the harbor fee, locked up the important gear, and found an inn. A bed that doesn't sway is a luxury.
I slept like a rock and woke sharp. After checking out, I bought fruit and vegetables, topped up fresh water, and pushed off again. By noon the wind stiffened; the air turned heavy. Rain incoming. I furled the sail just in time—an hour of downpour hammered the deck, then stopped. Sailing in rain, alone, is a hassle. When it passed, I headed below to cook curry beef over rice.
The first shell landed before I'd chopped the onions.
"Great. My mood's already shot, and now someone wants to ruin dinner."
I grabbed my blade and vaulted to the deck. A mid-sized brigantine bore down on me with seventy-odd men aboard.
"Captain, it looks like only one person is on that ship!"
"Only one? Then why waste the ammo! Grapple and kill him!"
They closed to board. A pirate with twin blades leaped for me—and a flying slash cut him clean in half before he touched my deck.
"A… a Swordmaster! Captain, he's a Swordmaster! Run!"
The captain hadn't expected that. He paled, then forced a sneer. "Run? I'm the 50-million-beli captain of the Mighty Bull Pirates! A mere Swordmaster? All hands—get him!"
I jumped to their deck and started cutting. Minutes later, only the captain was still on his feet.
"Don't mock me! I ate the Ox-Ox Fruit, Water Buffalo Model! I won't lose to you!" He swelled into a horned, hulking human-beast and charged.
I didn't bother replying. I vaulted high and brought my heel down. He kissed the planks and didn't rise.
"H…how? I couldn't even block one strike… Who are you?" He coughed blood, reverting to human.
I gave no answer—only the finishing stroke. If you choose to draw steel, you accept the cost.
Then I headed for the cabins. If all the pests were gone, it was treasure time.
In the captain's quarters I found loot worth around twenty million. Nice—small fortune. I was about to torch the ship and head back when a sound from the galley froze me. Two kids—twelve or thirteen, clinging to each other and shaking.
I stepped in. Before I could speak, the boy spread his arms in front of the girl. "Don't hurt my sister! I'll do anything—be your slave—just don't hurt her!"
"Interesting. You've got guts. Judging from your faces, you're not part of this crew. How'd you end up here?"
"We're not pirates," he said, voice tight. "They raided our village. Killed everyone. The captain wanted me because I'm strong. I refused. They threatened my sister to force me aboard."
"I believe you. The pirates are dead. You're free to go. Keep the ship." I turned to leave.
"W-wait!" the girl called.
"What is it, little one? I don't have time to escort you home."
"No, big brother," she said, voice small. "I… we want to ask if we can go with you. Our parents are dead. There's nothing to go back to." Tears welled up; the boy's head dropped.
"I don't feed freeloaders. What can you do?"
"I… know some medicine. I learned from my father," she said. "My brother's very strong. In our village, even five grown men couldn't beat him."
I rubbed my chin. "Your brother could take the helm. But you—medic? At your age?"
"My sister's amazing!" the boy blurted. "She helped our father treat patients all the time. He said she has real talent."
That was unexpected. She barely came up to my chest—maybe one-forty-something centimeters—but if she could already treat patients, she might grow into a proper ship's doctor with training.
"Fine. Pack what's yours and come with me."
"Thank you for taking us in!" the girl said, and tugged her brother away to gather their things.
I chuckled as they ran. Sharp little fox. I hauled the treasure and supplies from the pirate brig to my hold, then lit the abandoned ship—corpses and all.
"You two take cabins Three and Four," I told them when they came aboard. "Wash up. Dinner soon."
"Okay, big brother!" They scurried off.
I finished the curry and dug in at the galley table. Soon the two kids padded in, scrubbed clean.
"Grab bowls and help yourselves," I said.
"Thank you!" They ate like starving wolves. Up close, the girl was pretty and mischievous, with bright eyes; the boy was already over one-seventy, sturdy and a bit simple-faced—straight as an arrow, by the look of him.
After dinner, we moved to the deck. I lounged on a chair; they hovered nearby.
"I forgot to ask—names and ages?"
"I'm Ellie. Twelve. My brother's Benson—he's a year older."
"Relax. If you're aboard, you're family. Sit."
Benson flopped onto the grassed deck. Ellie skipped behind me and kneaded my shoulders. "Hee-hee. What do we call you? And why are you sailing alone?"
"I'm Portgas D. Karl. Karl is fine."
"Then Karl-nii it is!"
"Works for me. As for why—I'm headed to the South Blue to find someone. You'll learn more in time. Benson, turn in early. Wake at midnight to relieve me. We can't leave the helm unattended."
"Got it, Karl-aniki." He ducked below.
Yeah… Benson's single-track brain is going to make dating rough later.
"Ellie, you should rest too. Long day."
"Okay. Good night, Karl-nii!"
"Night."
Fate's a funny thing. Barely out to sea and I've already found two talents. Give them time—they'll stand on their own.
Ten-plus days later, Reverse Mountain loomed. I wondered if Crocus was at the lighthouse. He should be—the Roger Pirates disbanded.
"Captain, we've reached Reverse Mountain!"
"I see. Ellie, come here a sec."
"I'm here, Karl-nii. What's up?"
"I'm taking you to meet a master physician."
"Really? But… there's no one out here."
"Benson, bring us alongside that lighthouse. Tie up there."
"Aye, Captain!"
Once we'd moored, the three of us climbed to the door.
"Hey, old man Crocus! Someone's here to drink with you!"
A moment later, out stepped an elderly man in loud floral shorts—Crocus, the Pirate King's ship doctor.
He looked me up and down, eyes narrowing slightly—as if he could feel the power coiled under my skin. Not an ordinary kid.
"Hello, young man. How do you know me? I don't recall us meeting."
"We're meeting now, aren't we?" I grinned. "Portgas D. Karl—call me Karl. We've never met, but the Pirate King's doctor is a legend."
Ellie and Benson stiffened. The Pirate King's doctor—no small name.
"Oh? A D, is it?" Crocus chuckled. "Interesting. So, what do you want? Don't tell me you came just to share a drink."
"Drinking is one of the goals." I waved toward the shore. "Let's do it right here. Benson, fetch some meat from the boat. Grilled meat goes best with good liquor—and the more you drink, the smoother it gets."
"On it, Captain." Benson jogged off toward the gangway.
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