Drake's second day in Loguetown started with rumors.
Did you hear? Three merchant ships raided in the past week.
"Pirates are getting bold. Too bold."
"Ever since he left…"
Drake sat in a dockside tavern, nursing a drink and listening to the chatter around him.
His scythe rested against the table, drawing occasional nervous glances from other patrons. The weapon marked him as dangerous which was useful for keeping people at a distance.
"Captain Smoker," an old sailor was saying to his companions. "The White Hunter. He kept this city clean. Marines actually did their jobs when he was in charge."
"Where'd he get transferred to?" another asked.
" I heared he's chasing a pirate with a straw hat or he's at the grand line promoted for his work there. But now?" The sailor shook his head. "Captain Hendricks is competent, but he doesn't have Smoker's… intensity. Pirates know it. They're testing the waters."
Drake filed that information away. A power vacuum. That explained the increased tension he'd felt in the city the Marines on edge, the pirates getting braver, the merchants looking nervous.
His Analysis Eye had been working overtime since he'd entered the tavern. Most of the patrons were Level 3-5, ordinary sailors and dockworkers. But there were a few that stood out.
[Target: Unknown Man, Corner Table]
Level: 9
Threat Level: Medium
Abilities: Unknown
The man was watching Drake. Had been for the past ten minutes. Not hostile, exactly, but… assessing.
Before Drake could decide whether to confront him, the tavern door slammed open.
Three men swaggered in, their clothes salt-stained and weapons visible. The tavern went quiet.
[Analysis Eye activated - Multiple Targets]
[Pirate #1 - Level 8]
[Pirate #2 - Level 7]
[Pirate #3 - Level 6]
"This place serves pirates, right?" the lead pirate said loudly. "Or did Smoker's ghost scare you all into being law-abiding citizens?"
The bartender, a stocky man with greying hair, spoke carefully. "We serve everyone who pays. Just… keep it peaceful."
"Peaceful." The pirate laughed. "Boring is what that is. Hey boys, remember when this city had some life to it? Before the White Hunter ruined all the fun?"
They moved to the bar, and the tavern's normal noise slowly resumed. But Drake noticed the other patrons giving the pirates a wide berth. These weren't just random thugs they were known here and feared.
The lead pirate caught sight of Drake's scythe. "Well, well. What do we have here? You some kind of farmer, kid?"
Drake took a sip of his drink. "Just passing through."
"Passing through with a weapon like that?" The pirate moved closer, his crew following. "That's a fighting man's tool. You a bounty hunter? One of Hendricks's new recruits?"
"Neither."
"Then you won't mind if we" The pirate reached for the scythe.
Drake's hand snapped out, catching the man's wrist. "I'd mind."
The tavern went dead silent.
The pirate's eyes narrowed. "You've got balls, kid. I'll give you that." He tried to pull his wrist free and couldn't. His expression shifted to surprise, then anger. "Let Go."
"You first."
The pirate's other hand went for his sword. His crew members drew their weapons. The other patrons scrambled away from the confrontation.
Drake released the pirate's wrist and stood in one smooth motion, his scythe coming up with him. "Outside. Unless you want to wreck this place."
The lead pirate grinned, showing gold teeth. "I was hoping you'd say that."
The street outside the tavern cleared fast. Word had spread there was going to be a fight. Civilians pressed against buildings or watched from windows. Marines appeared at the periphery but didn't intervene. Not yet.
Drake saw Captain Hendricks watching from across the street, his hand resting on his sword hilt. The Marine Captain's face was unreadable.
The three pirates spread out, forming a triangle around Drake. Standard tactic attack from multiple angles, don't let him focus on one opponent.
"Last chance to walk away," Drake said.
"From a kid with a farming tool?" The lead pirate laughed. "I don't think so. Boys, let's show this tourist why you don't mess with the Crimson Blade Pirates!"
They attacked simultaneously.
The first pirate came in high with a sword strike. Drake's scythe met it, steel ringing against steel, then he rotated the weapon and hooked the blade around the man's guard. A pull, and the pirate stumbled forward directly into Drake's knee, which caught him in the face.
The second pirate attacked from behind, a knife aimed at Drake's kidney.
Drake's body dispersed into wind.
The knife passed through grey-white currents. The pirate's eyes went wide. "What the"
Drake reformed behind him, scythe already swinging. The shaft caught the pirate across the back of the head, sending him sprawling.
The third pirate froze, staring. "Devil Fruit! He's got a Devil Fruit!"
The crowd murmured. Drake saw Captain Hendricks lean forward, intensely interested.
The lead pirate spat blood, his nose clearly broken from Drake's knee. "So what? Devil Fruit users die just like anyone else!" He charged, sword swinging in a vicious arc.
Drake channeled wind through his scythe.
The blade sang as compressed air wrapped around it, extending its reach and cutting power. When Drake swung to parry, the wind-enhanced scythe didn't just block it shattered the pirate's sword and opened a long cut across his chest.
The man screamed and fell back, blood soaking his shirt.
[Enemy Defeated: Pirate Captain - Level 8]
The third pirate dropped his weapon and ran.
Drake let him go.
The fight had lasted less than thirty seconds.
Captain Hendricks walked over, his Marines forming up behind him. He looked at the two downed pirates, then at Drake, then at the scythe still wreathed in faint currents of wind.
"Impressive," Hendricks said. "A Logia-type Devil Fruit. Wind, from the look of it."
Drake said nothing.
"Those three have been causing problems since Smoker left. Petty theft, harassment, the usual low-level pirate garbage." Hendricks gestured, and his Marines moved to arrest the downed pirates. "You did me a favor."
"Wasn't trying to."
"No, you were defending yourself. And your property." Hendricks studied Drake's face. "Drake D. Carter. I remember you from yesterday. The one who helped capture Rake." He paused. "You're strong. Stronger than most people who pass through here. Have you considered joining the Marines?"
"No."
"Why not? You've got power, combat skill, a Devil Fruit. You could make Captain in a few years. Do real good in the world."
Drake thought about the little girl on Kokumo Island. About Marcus's warnings. About Rake's question: What are you going to do with all that power?
"The Marines serve the World Government," Drake said carefully. "I'm not sure I want to serve anyone."
Hendricks's expression flickered just for a moment with something that might have been understanding or respect. "Then what will you do?"
"Haven't decided yet."
"Well, when you do, try not to cause too much trouble in my city." Hendricks turned to leave, then paused. "A word of advice, Carter. Power like yours? It attracts attention. The kind you might not want. Be careful."
The Marine Captain walked away, his troops hauling the defeated pirates with them.
Drake stood in the street, aware of all the eyes on him. The civilians whispering. The other pirates watching from shadowed doorways, reevaluating their assumptions.
And the man from the tavern the Level 9 who'd been watching him leaning against a building with an appraising look.
"Nice work," the man said, pushing off the wall. He was tall, maybe early thirties, with a practical coat and a well-worn sword at his hip.
"Who are you?"
"John a Bounty hunter." He gestured at the departing Marines. "I was planning to collect on those three myself. You beat me to it."
[Analysis Eye activated]
[Target: John]
Level: 13
Threat Level: Medium-High
Abilities: Expert Swordsmanship, Tracking, Combat Experience
"Sorry," Drake said, not particularly sorry.
"Don't be. Watching you fight was worth more than their bounty." John's eyes were sharp and calculating. "Logia-type Devil Fruit, excellent combat instincts.
"It's my job. And my job is telling me you're someone interesting." John smiled. "Word of advice, kid. Loguetown's been a powder keg since Smoker left.
Pirates are getting bold, Marines are stretched thin, and people like you powerful, unaffiliated, clearly not interested in joining the government you're going to attract attention."
"So I've been told."
"The question is what kind of attention." John studied him. "You heading to the Grand Line?"
"Eventually."
"Alone?"
Drake thought about his empty money pouch, his lack of a ship, his crew of exactly zero people. "For now."
"That's a bad idea." John pushed off the wall. "But I suspect you'll figure that out soon enough. See you around, Drake Carter."
The bounty hunter walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Drake stood in the now-empty street, his scythe resting on his shoulder, and wondered what exactly he'd just stepped into.
That evening, Drake returned to his cheap inn to find a note slipped under his door.
It was written in neat handwriting:
Tomorrow, noon, warehouse district, Dock 7. There's a situation brewing. Could use someone with your talents- J.
Drake held the note, considering. John the bounty hunter. Whatever this was, it was probably dangerous.
He looked at his scythe, at his reflection in the room's cracked mirror. Red-streaked dreads, silver earrings, red eyes that had seen things no seventeen-year-old should see.
What are you going to do with all that power?
Maybe it was time to find out.
Drake tucked the note into his pocket
"This should be interesting "
End of Chapter 12