Over the next week during my time aboard the Revolutionary Armies flag ship, we stopped only twice on our way to the Red Line, the massive continent that splits this world in two. Each time we stopped, a small group of crew members left the ship, only to return with new recruits, food, or equipment.
At one island several children came aboard as well; orphans or those cast out to reduce the number of mouths to feed. And Dragon said this wasn't a day care.
Honestly, the ships crew is made up of a rather ragtag group of misfits as well. And all of them share the same optimistic enthusiasm and grim determination. Not to mention they are all wearing black billowy cloaks. I wonder if I'll get one after I join?
It turns out Dragon, or someone in his retinue, has contacts in these places. Everywhere we stopped is an islands unaffiliated with the world government. People scarred by the world government and orphans of war and conflict are plentiful in places like these. So when the revolutionaries come by it's no surprise they get new recruits wanting to join the fight, or help in anyway they can.
This is why I didn't question it when he stopped at a third island. I simply stayed below deck, chatting with Sabo and Jeffy, playing cards with the crew. I taught them a quite a few games, but my favourite is liars dice. The game played by Will Tuner and Davy Jones in Pirates of the Caribbean Dead Man's Chest. The extended edition of the movie really fleshed that scene out. Though we aren't playing that right now.
Honestly, gambling against me in general isn't smart. And not because of my budding Haki skills, or my ability to read the flow. Even in my old life I was always good at things like this. I worked out at a casino on a cruise liner as a card dealer for nearly a year after my mom died. That was right before I got my degree in engineering. It's safe to say I picked up a thing or two.
"Hey did you hear? There is apparently a samurai in this village." One of the women said as she looked at the cards in her hands and brushed her hair over her ear. I wasn't too focused on what she said and noticed the small smile that graced her face. A clear tell if ever there was one. Then her words registered to me and I looked back at her.
"Where did you hear that?" I asked, before confidently placing my cards on the table, "full house." I added smugly, causing several of the people sitting around us to frown inwardly.
"Iva mentioned it earlier today. And sorry kid, but your luck seems to have run out. Royal Flush, read it and weep." The woman who spoke laughed as she placed her cards on the table and pulled in the loot from the centre, but my mind was too focused on the thought of a samurai.
Samurai. More than a few thoughts ran through my mind with the mention of that single word.
"Well, I think I'm done for now. No need to try and take back what was already yours." I said mockingly while sliding from my chair and out of the room before anyone could respond. A few jeers were thrown my way but I payed them no mind. Sabo stayed behind, laughing and playing cards with the others; several of whom were with us in the Grey Terminal. Jeffy included. Though he stayed off to the side, comfortable to relax in the company of his many kittens.
When I reached the bathroom I unraveled the towel around my waist, revealing the lockbox I had wrapped within. I placed it in my lap and hummed in thought. Opening it with the key hanging around my neck, a pair of items I had stolen from the royal palace, I went straight to the bottom, pushing past the many pearls I gathered from the sea floor and all the beli I could fit.
At the bottom, beneath several metal components, lay three books layered one on top of another. Two that I stole from the library in the Goa Kingdom and the third is my personal journal. Pulling out the one on the bottom, a tattered leather bound book with no title, I set it down and flipped it open until I reached a very specific page.
At the top of the page, written in clear plain letters, was the title and a brief description it read;
- Shimotsuki Village. The home of Roronoa Zoro and the remainder of the Shimotsuki family.
Zoro's sword master is the son of a Samurai from Wano country, a place in the New World ruled by Kaido, the king of beasts and one of the Four Emperors of the Sea. After reading over all the notes I had written in Hebrew I closed the book, locked it back in the box and wrapped it in the towel once more before tying the towel to my waist.
'It seems Dragon really did make a stop in this village. I'm glad I wrote that down. In the excitement of the last few days, I had totally forgotten.' I thought idly.
That's when another thought struck me and I laughed when I realized my own foolishness. It's so obvious when I think about it.
I should destroy my journal.
There is no way the revolutionaries, or the world government don't have expert code breakers. There's also the possibility of a devil fruit existing that grants its user the ability to decipher any text or understand any language. Though the world government would no doubt make such a thing illegal to posses and would hunt down and kill whoever ate it.
After thinking it over I took out the book once more and proceeded to tear up the pages until not a single letter was legible before flushing it all down the toilet, here it flowed out to sea and where I broke it down in the ocean, before asking some passing fish to what remained. Might be overkill, but you can never be too sure.
Even with that done that doesn't necessarily mean I can't access my journal.
"Morph, come here for a second and turn into my journal for me." I said with a curious glint in my eye as the tiny blob of space goo floated toward me excitedly. Just as I expected he had no trouble turning into an exact replica of my journal. It looks exactly how it was a second ago; before I tore it apart and destroyed its contents.
"Why didn't I think of this before…" I chastised myself for not being more aware of the possibilities my friend here presented. I need to be more aware. I've just been way too excited these past few months so it's thrown me off my game.
"Now add all my knowledge of the One Piece world, from any and all mediums. Oh, and change the cover to a solid black with gold trim around the edges and repair the damage to the pages so they look like those in the Torah." I said while picturing what I want in my mind. Morph didn't disappoint. A small ripple shook the hovering journal as its colour changed and its pages were reshaped into a far more elaborate design.
When I was done experimenting with how my bond with Morph, I realized that I can turn the pages and add new lines with nothing but my thoughts alone. This is far more convenient that having to carry it around and write my thoughts down as they come.
"Thanks little buddy, you can turn back now." I remarked after I had looked through the journal once more to refresh my memory of the coming events. There was quite a bit that was added that I simply didn't think of before. It seems Morph can tap into my subconscious, but that's just a guess.
Taking a piece of jerky from my pocket I chucked it into the air for him to eat. But there was more in my pocket than I expected and a small metal bolt flew out along with the jerky.
Before I could stop him, Morph changed shape mid air and dove to catch the piece of meat in his gelatinous mouth. He gobbled it up metal and all without complaint. I watched curiously as both the jerky and the steel bolt dissolved in his strange stomach as a satisfied smile spread across his tiny pink face. Thought the steel took significantly longer for him to digest.
"Damn. Is there anything you can't eat?" I wondered aloud as Morph giggled. Shaking my head of those thoughts I refocused on the village the ship is currently docked outside of.
'I doubt anyone would be mad if I went and did a little sight seeing, but it's better to be safe than sorry.' After locking the bathroom door and leaving Morph inside to use his voice mimicking skill to cover for me, I unlatched the port hole and slid through, dropping into the cold waters below.
Then I remember Haki was a thing and called the whole sneaking around thing off. I'll still go to the island, but no need to skulk around like a rat. Morph can go back to play cards with Sabo. Morph was also a good reason I kept winning. With him around I always had an ace up my sleeve.
Swimming under the ship and towards the island, I walked out of the water and onto shore, waving at the other revolutionaries on stand by. Feeling the warm sand between my toes I smiled contently before walking further inland.
"578, 579, 580." The strained voice of a young boy entered my ears as I rounded a corner and set eyes on the village.
"Woah, look at that ship!" - "It's huge!" - "Who do you think it belongs too?" Three more youthful voices called out excitedly.
A smile came to my face as I took in the sight before me. Carrying a massive boulder that's easily three times his size on his shoulders is a short, green haired boy doing squats. Across from him, standing on the fence at the edge of the village, are three other children. All four of them are wearing green gi with a white belt. A pair of crossed crimson swords sits on the left side of their chest, indicating that they are all from the same dojo; the Isshin dojo.
That green haired child doing one thousand squats, with a boulder on his back, is none other than Roronao Zoro himself. Luffy's future right hand and the man who will one day become the worlds greatest swordsman.
His muscles bulged as his breathing became more and more ragged. The closer he got to one thousand the harder it became and the slower his pace. I half expected him to drop dead from exhaustion. There's even a small puddle of sweat pooling beneath his feet.
"997, 998, 999, 1000!" With a herculean effort Zoro's tossed the boulder off his shoulders and sat heavily into the dirt. I almost started to clap. That was seriously impressive.
Just when I thought he was done for the day, he stood up and staggered over to a pair of shinai, or bamboo practice swords, and picked them up with a renewed vigour. Without taking time to rest, Zoro turned to the wooden post wrapped with a tatami mat set up to his right and began a rigorous assault.
His swings were wild and erratic, untamed and seemingly unpredictable, yet there was a method to his madness. The way he's moving seems sort of primal, almost instinctive, as if he's leaving everything to his reflexes and trying to figure out the best way to fight.
Even as the others in his dojo flocked to the beach to get a look at the galleon with a Dragon figure head, Zoro remained rooted in place, training like his life depended on it. The sight was inspiring to say the least.
"Heh, seems I can't keep slacking off." I said with a small laugh as I turned and walked away, not intending to disturb him.
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