Several months later I can now trigger Kami-e reliably five out of seven times. Gramps still won’t explain what that weird feeling of energy was that caused him to get lost in thought. Rankyaku is dull and not at all sharp, I can bend a branch sixty-degrees but still not cut it. Tekkai, I can get gray on my arm, but not black. Soru is at eight kicks a second, so what I currently have is a bastardized form of super speed instead of the real thing. Geppo is better, as I can keep a foot off the ground reliably. Shigan I am holding off on training more until I get much stronger as I have already almost broken my fingers a dozen times. Ace is focusing on one at a time instead of all at once, which I consider silly as training in one, generally helps with the others, except for Shigan and Kami-e, as those techniques focus on dodging or the fingers.
When it comes to the village, things are working smoothly. Rough group style log houses have been set up for all of the refugees. Businesses are also booming. Case in point, Makino’s bar the Party House now has five other locations throughout our small city. We have lots of fish coming in, and even the marines have taken to treating our city as a vacation area, bringing in lots of money. Grandpa Garp and his semi-frequent visits have also made sure that none of the marines decide to go the corruption route of demanding money or free services.
I have still tried to find/salvage items of use in the Gray Terminal, doing this to keep busy in-between doing other aspects of training. Sifting through the rubble makes for great strength/endurance training. While me and Ace had dealt with enough of the barrels to not just have the area wiped from existence, the heat of the fire fused together most of the stuff that might have been valuable at one point or another. I even found the bodies of many a family caught up in such a senseless mess.
Under the cover of night and with a tar-like substance upon my face and arms, I managed to get to the secret entrance that goes past the inner walls, only to find out that it was filled with debris and then the cracks and other little spaces filled with cement. I could dig through the stuff, even the concrete, but it would make a horrendous amount of noise, so no go. Up and over the wall it is. I make it up top with no problem, no guards in sight. Either they got lax after putting the warnings signs up, or after several months of no one trying to get in, they stopped the full guard rotation for the night shift. Either way is fine with me, means that I won’t have to use this substance anymore.
As I look down the wall into the commoner area, I see guards and torches bobbing along on patrol. I come down between the wall and a tall building near the wall to lessen the chance of being seen. I find a barrel of rainwater and quickly scrub most of the tar-like substance away from my body for it is starting to stink, joy. A snatched set of dry clothes hanging in the night air, and I am on my way again. I make my way to the port and hope to get lucky with Bluejam’s ship. I do get lucky, for there it is bobbing in the water like it was almost four months ago, fat, short, and long, a few whole trees, not planks, can be seen along the side for better defense as I get closer.
There is activity seen on the ship as I get closer. A few pirates, possibly the remains of Bluejam’s crew are drunk on the top deck, badly sung shanties issuing forth. It is the work of just a few seconds to knock them out. As I go below deck to the main hold, it strikes me as odd, for I’m seeing clear to the baseboards. No treasure of any kind, no barrels of alcohol, no good or spare sails, just several spools of rope. The rest of the pirates for this crew must be shit at anything else other than fighting when sober. I briefly look in the crew quarters and of the maybe forty beds, only three have occupants, so either lots of them died in the Gray Terminal, they are out and about, or they did stupid shit while the Celestial Dragon was here and got executed for it. I swiftly knock all three of them out and proceed to search. Maybe an hour later and all I found was maybe two hundred thousand Beri, mostly bills but some coins. One last place to check is the captain’s quarters. The door is bolted shut and I can hear deep snoring coming from within. Since the noise I would make tearing the door off might alert the guards patrolling the port, I go outside the ship and shimmy around the side till I get to the window that is for the captain’s cabin. I don’t even have to break any glass as the window is open. Inside I find one of the bigger pirates, and a quick punch later, makes sure that he won’t wake up for a while. This room has a lot more, four hundred thousand Beri and I didn’t have to look hard at all, since it was out in the open. The odd thing I find is a high-grade steel chest under the bed, four locks that look like they have been cut shot and blown-up multiple times, yet still intact. Maybe a foot tall, seven feet long, and four feet wide, this will be a challenge to get over the wall with my small frame. If I had several people with me, I could possibly sail this ship out of here tonight, when I hit on the solution, for I DO have several people on board. I open the deadbolt lock and go get the rope. I tied each of the crew members that I found up individually, then took them to the top side. One by one, a gentle slap (for me) wakes them up. I had gagged them before I woke them up as I didn’t want their screaming to alert the guards on patrol. As they wake up, they try to move or otherwise get loose, but my knots are decent enough for this unskilled bunch. It takes a few minutes for them to settle down and begin staring at me.
“Now that I have your attention. We are going to sail this ship for Foosha City, just a few hours away. I say we, since I cannot do this by myself. Either you help me, or you end up like Bluejam and plenty of your other comrades, dead, but I’ll simply drop you overboard and let you drown in the sea instead of burning to death. Once we arrive in Foosha City, you will be locked up in the jail for crimes that you have no doubt committed. So, what will it be, life in prison, or death by the sea?” I ask them, dagger in hand that looks more like a broad sword in my hand due to my small size. I go and remove a gag to get my first answer.
“Fuck you ya pipsqueak. You don’t have the balls to kill us.” He laughs right in my face, with the others giving the indication of laughter.
“Thank you for volunteering to test my resolve. You guys were involved in the death of countless people among other crimes, long before the Gray Terminal disaster put that up to mind boggling numbers, so I have no sympathy when I do this.” I replace the gag on my ‘volunteer’, and lift him up, taking him to the edge of the ship, farthest from the docks. I then with a light heave ho, throw him overboard. I heard him hit the water with a medium sized splash, and panicked words followed that can’t get past the gag for a few seconds before he goes under, never to be heard from again. I turn to the remaining seven pirates, and all seven of them are panicking, badly at what I just did. I loosen their bonds enough for them to get free. I make sure that they all stay above deck, though it is not like they would have access to any weapons unless it was a holdout knife or pistol, for all of their weapons are locked in the captain’s cabin just in case. The sails get dropped and we catch a draft to get us moving. Just in case for when we get to Foosha City, I have one of the men bring down the jolly roger and instead fly a white flag. Sailing at night can be bad, but as we are just sailing along the coast, we shouldn’t have too many issues, we will even wait till actual morning before pulling into the expanded docks.
A few hours later and I am tired from staying up all night, but it can’t be helped. We sailed south-east along the coast and dropped anchor once we came to within sight of the city’s lighthouse. An hour later one of the fishing boats heading out on an early run, spots us just as the sky is brightening from the soon to be rising sun. They pull alongside the ship after another ten minutes. I’m recognizable despite not wearing my signature look of a straw hat, red vest and blue shorts. The fishermen are amazed at what I managed to pull off, hell they help me, and the pirates get the boat to the docks safely in this early morning light. A commotion is had as the gangplank is lowered (the fishermen had radioed back using one of the few shortrange den den mushi the village possessed), leading the way are a sleepy-eyed Ace and Makino, hands on her hips as she sends me a light glare.
“Heys guys, look what I got.” I say with a shit eating grin on my face as I stand on the railing.
“Luffy you nutcase, what is this?” Ace asks me.
“The former ship of the Bluejam Pirates.” I reply, smile still beaming.
“All I can really ask is why?” Makino asks, arms now crossed under her chest as she gives me one of her less angry, but still disappointed looks.
“Another ship for the village to use, at a price since it is mine now. It is basically forfeit since Bluejam and his crew were involved in destroying the Gray Terminal. On another note, I found a big slim chest in the captain’s quarters and need help getting it out and opening it up.” I tried to change the subject and am not successful as Makino remarks that ‘we will talk about this more after she gets the rest of her sleep.’ She then heads back to her house above the original Party Bar location.
While Makino is going back to sleep some more, Ace helps me carry the awkward sized chest out of the captain’s quarters. We take it to one of the older buildings, that is going to be torn down and the space reused. In a new light, I reaffirm that the locks are not just for show, as we pry the bullets off showing almost pristine locks. Despite how things have improved in the village now city, we don’t have a strong enough heat source to melt the locks of this quality off, or a good enough bar of material in which to try and pry the locks off as they are now. So, we go with the brute force approach. We find hammers of the strongest materials we can get, and then take turns trying to bust the locks off. We go through six hammers before the locks are busted enough for us to have a better chance at prying them off. Our muscles strain almost to the point of tearing even with our strength, but we are finally able to get the locks off. We take a minute to rest, then I open the lid, and my eyes are shining with want. Inside is one of the best weapons I have ever seen or will see until I die again. Stretching from one end of the case to the other (minus a few inches), is a scythe. The blade is almost black for some reason, with only a few spots still being gray. The blade is three feet long in a steep crescent shape, no exit of metal on the opposite side of the staff where it is hilted. The blade is not serrated, but one single straight edge on both the upper and lower curves of the blade. The staff itself is gorgeous, about seven feet long. A fusion of some kind of metal and wood swirling along all the way to the bottom where it ends in a three-pronged claw shape. Flames and skulls are carved into the material, not so much telling a story as an ending. Ace tries to lift it out, but before he can wrap his hand around the staff portion, his hand jerks back as if badly shocked. Deciding to try my luck, I reach down, though I know that I won’t be able to comfortably wield this weapon for years to come and try to lift it before Ace can stop me. My hand touches it and suddenly I’m not in the real world anymore, as evidenced by the wild flames flickering just outside a barrier. The ground seems off as if farther away, when it hits me, this is my old body. A voice gets my attention.
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“You are different from the scrawny one that tried to pick me up just before. I didn’t like him, too immature in the end, so I gave him a shock to remember. Will you be different I wonder?” The voice says almost casually but is clearly female.
I look around and near the opposite edge of the platform from where I am is the answer. The voice in question belongs to a woman of great beauty. Just over six feet tall, she is clearly demonic, similar to those of Andriel's brood, but more in every way. The demon sense that I had honed is not pinging with her for some reason, though I will hopefully find out why later on. She has blood-red hair that disappears out of sight down her back, no ornaments to be seen, just sleek and soft. Her face is not the pale white of some demons I have seen, but not the tan of heavy sun-kissed skin, a perfect middle ground. I want to fall into her violet eyes but resist so I can look over the rest of her. Full-pouty lips, a cute nose, and an oval shaped jaw. She is wearing a dress-like robe of dark orange that both exposes her shoulders and tantalizingly exposes a big amount of cleavage, the opening ending below a huge pair of breasts that are just bigger than her head. Her arms are not thin and dainty but filled with muscle in a pleasing shape, showing their strength. Her wings sprouting from somewhere upon her back could encapsulate her entirely, their size is that great. Claw tips are not at the top of her wings, but ever shifting flames. Showing across what I can see of the membranes is a shifting, flaming skull. The lines of her body shift out to a shallow hourglass-like shape as they swell outward when meeting her hips and down to her thighs. Her legs, like her arms show muscle in a pleasing way, not bulky or undersized. As I end up on her feet, she is not wearing heels to increase her height or change her body’s shape, but close toed sandals that have a touch of fire dancing along the tip, comfortable, yet practical, a surprise with her style of dress. Succubae that I have encountered in the past would wish that they could have her looks. While in this world she would have wars started in the effort to possess her, families would tear themselves apart as both men and women would fight in the chance to earn her favor.
“My such a gentleman. Are you finished romancing me with your eyes? I can turn around if you want, I have got an ass that will bring you to more attention than you already are.” Her words are the sounds of amusing, sweet, tantalizing, the promise of everything and nothing all at once.
I work to get control over myself, though a glance downward shows how I have lost part of the fight already as sensations I haven’t felt in over seven years, try to take over, as my skirt armor tenting is such an indication. “I apologize if my gaze is unwanted Miss...?” I leave the question hanging.
“Very far from unwanted. From the moment you cast your eyes upon my physical self, nothing but admiration has been within your gaze. My name is engraved upon myself along the top of my staff, Jigoku, or Hellfire if you prefer an easier way to say it. Many who have gazed upon me seek to ruin innocent lives, but I prefer to turn the heat up on those with dark hearts, evil men, those with only destruction and savagery upon their minds. While Ace has his innocence and youth that can be led to the path I want if he were to but listen, his other traits make it very unlikely. You on the other hand already have advanced skills in using one like me. Even better is your use of those skills against those whose hearts were but unwanted organs. I wish to be used like that again, as it has been decades if not more than a century since evil men have been made to fear me. I would like that again, so much so that if you keep being true to this path you plan to walk, then so long as you are living, I will never have another wielder. Use me on those who are truly evil, and they will be torched in the fires of my Kiss.” She finishes what feels like a serenade, as if she is the one begging for my attention, instead of me having to make a case for myself. She glides on her feet to me, yet her hips still alternate that swaying, hypnotic rhythm.
I am speechless as she reaches me. She then lifts a hand and brushes it along my cheek, sudden pleasurable warmth suffusing me at the touch. She gazes into my eyes, into my very soul and speaks more. “I look forward to consummating this partnership when you have used me to kill a truly evil person, though I feel that that moment will be almost a decade down the road. For now, this will be but the taste of an appetizer.” Her lips, so beautiful, so succulent, crash into mine with passion. I feel stars shooting through my mind even as the sensation of her lips opening against mine to allow her tongue to dart out. I’m still in too much of a daze to fight and win this battle, but I can make the effort, my arms coming up around her waist and gently pressing her body to me as the kiss is deepened, our tongues dancing in harmony. We separate after another minute, a line of saliva connecting our mouths.
Her breathing is heavy, her breasts thumping with the beat of her heart against my chest. “Till the goal is accomplished and we meet again here my wielder, my hopeful master till the end of time.”
With a flash of fire, I’m back in the real world, hearing Ace calling my name and trying to shake me. The scythe, Hellfire, is gripped as much as I can in my two young hands, and I won’t be parted from her, for she will be by myside until the day that I die.
“Ace did you see anything when you touched this scythe?” I ask him, though if he did see something it couldn’t have been much considering how much time had passed when he touched Hellfire and got shocked.
“I saw a woman, and I called her a bitch when she suddenly stuck her nose up at me. She then slapped me from across the room somehow. Then I was back here. Why, what did you see? You were in a daze for over ten minutes as I’ve been calling your name. Hell, you wouldn’t move from that spot at all.” Ace asks back.
I then noticed something, my body is sore, but not from staying up all night and into the next day. The soreness and pain that is now registering is specific, localized on my ribs and stomach. I look down, and low and behold, there are a couple of fist shaped bruises on me. I then look up at Ace as my eyebrow starts twitching uncontrollably in anger. “Did you hit me full force trying to get me out of the trance while I was having a conversation with Hellfire?” I ask the rhetorical question to Ace as anger seeps into my eyes. Ace seeing this is scared, and he tries to run, when BOOM. I have never moved that fast before ever, in this life or my prior one. Nor have I ever hit with such force. I had taken one hand off Hellfire and let him have it. With one punch I send Ace through the wall, then send the wall after him to land on top of him with a crash that shakes the ground from the force.
The explosion of force attracts quite a few people to the commotion. People are scared as I look at them, the fire of anger bleeding into my eyes. Or maybe it’s the scythe that I am barely holding onto in one hand. I take a few deep breaths to calm down. Once the fires of anger are no longer believed to be shining from my eyes, I look up. “Ace did something incredibly stupid, yet again. I’ll let him pull himself out from under that wall, when he wakes up.” I say this with a deadpan expression. The city has gotten used to this in the last several months. Ace is a good fighter, and normally means well, but there are plenty of times that he either A. shoots his mouth off, or B. doesn’t take the consequences of his plans into account. This was a combination of both. He shot his mouth off at Hellfire, for which she in turn bitch slapped him. Then he thought to wake me up, by beating the crap out of me. Too which I then proceeded to lay him out unconscious. Hopefully this painful lesson will stick, but if going by his pattern of behavior since I met him, I’m going to say that is a hard no.
On my way back to the little house Gramps set up for me and Ace, and him with his semi-frequent visits, I stopped at the nearest market. Using some of the funds I stole from the Bluejam pirates, I bought some weapon oil. I don’t know how long Hellfire had been in that chest, but the chances are that if nobody was found worthy of her, despite her immaculate appearance, she hasn’t been properly cared for. I laid her out on a long piece of cloth and dab a rag in the oil. Starting from all the way at the bottom, getting more oil as needed, I slowly work my way up the staff until I reach her blade. I swear that I am hearing her voice through our connection, but the sounds are muffled enough to where I don’t hear distinctive words, only a few unidentifiable sounds. Then careful of the edges, I clean her blades with gentle but firm strokes. Just as I finish, I swear that I hear Hellfire moan, deep, guttural, and satisfied.