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CHAPTER 61
Amidst the tranquil scene of the pond and the gentle sounds of water splashing, Lex remained engrossed in his cleansing ritual. He poured water over his weary body, scrubbing away the remnants of the stench that had clung to him. Exhaustion had etched itself across his features, turning his once-determined expression into one of sheer fatigue.
Meanwhile, Kuina perched herself gracefully on the edge of the pond, thoroughly amused by Lex's predicament. Her laughter, a melodious sound against the backdrop of the water, filled the air.
As Kreegan approached the scene, he couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The unpleasant smell that lingered around Lex was enough to make his face contort in distaste. With a hint of humor in his voice, he couldn't resist commenting on Lex's state.
"You should take a bath. Why are you so nasty?"
Lex, his temper flaring, shot back with an indignant retort, his face flushed with anger.
"I will bite your head off!"
In an impulsive display, Lex even transformed his head, attempting to lunge at Kreegan's leg with an exaggerated threat. Kreegan, unfazed, continued the banter, determined to have the last word.
"Why are you angry at me? I am not the one who farted in your mouth!"
Lex's frustration was palpable, yet Kreegan remained surprisingly composed. Their playful exchange was punctuated by the distinct odor that lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the events that had transpired.
"You are the reason I have to fight that stink bomb!"
In a moment of reflection, Kreegan redirected the blame.
"No, they are the reason we fought those monsters."
His accusatory finger pointed towards the islanders who were emerging from their homes. Each of their faces bore the hopeful smiles of those who had just realized that the threat of the Trump Pirates had been vanquished. Two islanders approached Kreegan and Lex, gratitude radiating from their expressions.
"Thank you very much for your help; thanks to you, we do not have to create tools of war anymore."
Kreegan, feeling a pang of embarrassment at their appreciation, responded somberly.
"I am sorry, but this is not over for you, and I cannot stay here to offer you protection."
Confusion shadowed the islanders' faces as they probed further.
"What do you mean?"
Kreegan's gaze shifted to the horizon, where uncertainty loomed like an approaching storm.
"The people Bear King sold weapons to are not good people, as you know. We could kill all of their men, and some of them will go to those people, and they will know a profitable weapons factory has lost its owner and will come here. Even if they didn't do it, the World Government would take over the factory. The only way for you to truly be free is for you all to destroy this island and start all over in another place."
His words acted as a harsh wake-up call, snapping the islanders out of their temporary euphoria. Kreegan's blunt assessment of their situation cut through any illusions they might have held. The only path to lasting freedom was to leave this place behind.
"We know you can't help us, and we don't have the face to ask you to do it anyway, but is there anything we can do to help you? You have given us our freedom back."
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While the islanders grappled with the harsh reality before them, Lex, ever the strategist, saw an opportunity.
"Actually, there is one thing," he interjected, turning to Kreegan with a gleam of hope in his eyes. "I tried to do upgrades before we went to Shimotsuki village, but the labor and raw materials were scarce, and I couldn't finish them all. If they help us, I can truly turn Tora One into an entirely new ship."
...
After a month of relentless toil, Lex, aided by the skilled scientists of Clockwork Island, finally completed the comprehensive upgrades to the ship. In light of their hard work and transformation, it was only fitting to christen the vessel with a new, shorter name. Tora, as it was now called, gleamed with newfound power and purpose.
The extensive modifications imbued Tora with newfound might and resilience, rendering it a formidable force on the high seas. The crew, their spirits buoyed by their transformed vessel, stood united and resolute. They knew that the time had come to confront the Arlong Pirates, and Kreegan felt confident that they were now well-equipped for the challenge ahead.
Yet, a sense of urgency weighed heavily on Kreegan's mind. He understood the necessity of reaching Arlong before the notorious fish-man learned of their approach. It was all too likely that someone on this island, despite Kreegan's attempts to expose the corruption within the Marines, would inform the authorities once the island's residents began departing en masse.
Kreegan harbored no illusions about the trustworthiness of the Marines, particularly with Nezumi in the equation. If news of Bear King's demise reached Nezumi's ears, the cunning Marine captain would undoubtedly seek to both eliminate any loose ends and exploit the situation to his advantage. Smoker, a Marine captain Kreegan had some semblance of trust in, could be contacted and informed of the entire ordeal. However, doing so would jeopardize their mission to eliminate Arlong and Nezumi, possibly leading to their capture and incarceration within Impel Down.
As the crew made their preparations to depart, they shared heartfelt farewells with the islanders who had found a renewed hope and sense of freedom through their intervention. Their journey would now take them to the Conomi Islands, where the looming confrontation with the Arlong Pirates awaited, and the fate of many would hang in the balance.
...
After a month of grueling travel, their ship was drawing near to the Conomi Islands, the impending confrontation with the Arlong Pirates weighing heavily on their minds. During this journey, Kreegan had the opportunity to utilize the forge within the ship for the very first time. Ichinami, his faithful blade, already bore two enchantments, the maximum number that could be applied to Skillful Grade swords. However, with the substantial bounties they had amassed and the riches discovered within the Trump Pirates' treasury, Kreegan saw fit to bestow enchantments upon Yubashiri as well.
Their coffers held a total of 350 million bellies, though Kreegan knew he'd have to share a portion of this wealth, amounting to 280 million, with his loyal crew. To his surprise, Kuina requested only a small share, opting instead for the second Great Grade Sword Kreegan had crafted, a proposition he readily accepted. After disbursing everyone's earnings, Kreegan remained with 210 million bellies.
The same enchantments were applied to Yubashiri: Heavy Strike, enhancing its weight for 50% more impactful blows, and Cold Iron, affording it the ability to deal 20% arcane damage against devil fruit users. With these improvements, both of Kreegan's swords could now harm logia users, even if the damage inflicted was relatively minor.
Kreegan's recent level-up had also bolstered the capabilities of his coat, augmenting the bonuses it provided. It now possessed three charges for air bubble spells and bestowed a +10 bonus to his Armor Class (AC). This enhancement significantly elevated his defenses, affording him an AC of 30. With this level of protection, his body possessed six times the defensive capabilities of an average human, rendering him virtually impervious to a small-caliber pistol aimed at his chest.
In the midst of his contemplation, Kuina's voice jolted him from his reverie.
"Kree, come quickly!"
"What's the matter?" he inquired.
"We've spotted a shipwreck."
Numerous ship fragments bobbed upon the water's surface, resembling the remnants of a small boat akin to his first vessel. Scorch marks and other telltale signs of cannon fire indicated that the craft had been brutally attacked.
"Can you see any survivors?" Kreegan asked, concern etching his features.
"Over there! I see a man clinging to that plank."
Without hesitation, Kreegan plunged into the water and began swimming toward the lone survivor. It was times like these that he keenly felt the downside of sharing a crew with devil fruit users—they were rendered entirely helpless in the water. Upon reaching the man, Kreegan swiftly checked for a pulse, confirming that he was indeed still alive. The survivor clung tenaciously to a rifle, holding it as if his very life depended on it. Kreegan attempted to pry the weapon from his grasp but encountered resistance.
Anxious that the man might be conscious but unresponsive, Kreegan resorted to a sharp slap, hoping to rouse him. Eventually, through persistent efforts, he succeeded in freeing the firearm and commenced the arduous swim back to their ship. Once safely aboard, they swathed the survivor in blankets, acutely aware of the frigid conditions.
This situation stirred up somber memories for Kreegan, but he quickly shook them off, focusing his attention on the wounded man. Judging by his appearance, he appeared to be only a few years older than Kreegan himself, likely falling within the age range of 18 to 20. With a bullet wound on his arm that had pierced right through, the crew, lacking a medical expert, did their best to staunch the bleeding.
The following day, their guest awoke, still weakened and undoubtedly traumatized. However, he remained silent, and the crew wisely refrained from pressing him for information, allowing him the space and time to recover at his own pace.