The morning sun spilled across the deck, mingling with the cries of seagulls and the rhythmic lapping of waves. Rhett lay sprawled on the planks like a salted fish, rolling over with a groan. "Five more minutes..."
*THUD.*
A foot slammed into his stomach without mercy.
"Training time, brat." Rayleigh adjusted his glasses.
Rhett clutched his gut, howling. "Old man Rayleigh! This is your fault! I was busting my ass yesterday to finish your insane drills. You treating me like some punching bag?"
"Oh?" Rayleigh arched an eyebrow. "Seems I underestimated your recovery. Maybe you really can save the world at four." His knuckles cracked as he flexed his fingers.
Rhett shot upright, teeth gritted. "I'm up! You're on—let's do this."
Post-training, Rhett flopped onto the deck like a sun-dried fish. Roger crouched beside him, grinning. "How's it feel? Tired?"
Rhett rolled his eyes. "Captain, seriously? You two take turns torturing me. Bet you're just bored."
Roger boomed with laughter. "Nonsense! We're molding the next great pirate! Strength lets you roam the seas, kid."
"Molding?" Rhett's eye twitched. "This is a damn raising sim!"
"Raising sim?" Roger tilted his head. "What's that?"
He could feel the fatigue piling up, even if he couldn't feel it.
But whatever. He was young. Plenty of time to grow stronger. This was a shonen manga, after all.
Shaking off the thoughts, Rhett—ever the troublemaker—spotted his next target.
"Hey, Gaban! Fight me!" He stood at the stern, hands in pockets, wind tousling his black hair. Crimson eyes gleamed with challenge.
Time to usurp your left-hand spot, old man. Today the position, tomorrow the Pirate King title! Hah!
Gaban looked up from polishing his twin axes, grinning. "You sure, kid? That three-million berry bounty won't save you. No mercy for brats."
"Wouldn't want it!" Rhett smirked. "Perfect chance to test my new move!"
Perched on the mast, Roger cheered. "Yahaha! Wanna bet, Rayleigh? Who's your pick?"
Rayleigh adjusted his glasses. "Three-seven odds. Three minutes, seven flights for Rhett."
"I'll take Gaban!" Roger tossed a peanut into his mouth.
"Hey! Roger! Rayleigh! Whose side are you on?" Rhett bristled. "I'm your student! Losing reflects on you!"
"Not really. You sucking is your problem." Roger's grin was pure mischief.
Gaban rose. "Ready, kid?"
Rhett struck first, arms sweeping wide. "Mist Realm: Silent Cage!"
Thick fog engulfed the ship, visibility zero. Gaban vanished—no sight, no sound. Eerie silence.
"Blinding and deafening?" Gaban stood still, eyes narrowing. "Clever. But veterans don't play by rules."
He crouched, crossed arms slashing—
*CLANG!*
Rhett's Haki-coated wooden sword met twin axes mid-air.
"What—?!" Rhett's pupils shrank. He backflipped, putting distance between them. "How?!"
"Instinct." Gaban bared his teeth.
"Observation Haki?" Rhett spat. "No—you're not even trying!"
"Yahaha! The sea teaches more than Haki!" Gaban lunged, axes carving the air.
Rhett dissolved into mist, reforming just beyond reach.
"Quit dodging!" Gaban pressed, strikes a relentless storm. Rhett retreated, barely parrying.
"Mist Clone: Mirage!" Seven Rhetts materialized, charging from all angles.
Gaban paused, scanning. "Illusions?"
"Guess right!" Seven voices overlapped.
Gaban snorted, shut his eyes—ears twitched.
"Third from left!"
*THWACK!*
The axe's blunt side sent Rhett flying. Illusions shattered.
"Bullshit! How?!" Rhett clutched his shoulder. "No way you just knew!"
"Fog hides sight, not breath." Gaban shrugged. "You were panting. Can't help but notice."
"Control your heartbeat next time. Then we'll talk."
Rhett growled. "Try this!"
"Mist Corrosion: Acid Fog!"
Gaban's skin prickled—burning. "Toxic?" He coated his arms in Haki. "Dirty move, kid."
"War's not fair!" Rhett clasped his hands. "Mist Burst: Wire Cutter!"
*WHOOSH!*
Fog compressed into razor threads, slicing inward.
Gaban's eyes sharpened. Twin axes whirled. "Raging Axe: Cyclone!"
*BOOM!*
A shockwave exploded outward, shredding the mist.
Sunlight returned. Rhett knelt, gasping. "…Seriously?!"
Gaban approached, ruffling his hair. "Not bad. Almost got me."
Rhett slumped. "Still lost hard. Wanted more rounds…"
"Yahaha! Don't sweat it!" Roger dropped down, slinging arms around both. "Gaban trades blows with Rayleigh! Making him draw weapons is huge!"
The fight exposed his core flaw: no finishing power.
At lunch, Gaban grilled fish hauled from the sea. Rhett hovered, drooling. "Damn, Gaban, you can cook?"
Gaban smirked. "Had to learn. Starvation's a harsh teacher."
Roger sniffed the air, reaching. "Yahaha! Gimme a bite!"
*SMACK!* Gaban's chopsticks struck his hand. "Raw. Patience."
Roger pouted. "Gaban, you've changed…"
"Two days. We've known each other two days."
Rhett snickered—until Roger yanked him up. "Laughing, brat? Fetch the booze!"
"I'm four! Child labor? Where's the nurturing?!"
Rayleigh sipped tea. "Since when do pirates follow laws?"
Night fell. The four gathered under a sky ablaze with stars.
Roger raised his bottle, swaying slightly as he bellowed, "To freedom! To adventure! Cheers!"
"Cheers!" Gaban and Rayleigh clinked their glasses, grinning.
Rhett clung to his juice cup, muttering under his breath, "Bunch of drunkards..."
Roger slung an arm around him, his eyes glassy with alcohol. "Kid, what's your dream?"
Rhett thought for a moment, then flashed a wide grin. "I wanna be someone who can go wherever I want in this world—and wherever I go, people will have to show me respect!"