The sun was already leaning toward the horizon, painting the sky and the water in coppery-red tones.
We were heading back from training — tired but satisfied.
The air smelled of salt and smoke — the island was living its usual, sometimes noisy, but today surprisingly calm life.
Suddenly, shouts and the clash of metal echoed from around the bend in the trail.
"Did you hear that?" Sabo asked, lifting his head.
"Yeah. Let's check it out."
We quickened our pace.
Soon the scene unfolded before us: on the sandy shore near a rickety warehouse, about ten burly guys armed with clubs and knives had surrounded a teenager.
He could barely stand, but still positioned himself between them and a small sack.
In his hands, he held something like a club. His face was thin and scratched.
"I'll say it one last time!" one of the thugs growled. "Hand over the bag and scram while you still have your teeth."
"Then come and take it," the boy rasped back and charged forward.
He moved sharply, like a wounded wolf.
He struck one in the leg, dodged another's swing — but there were too many of them.
One attacker raised his weapon from behind — and at that moment, I pushed off, instantly closing the distance.
Wham!
"My spring-loaded punch landed right in the chest of the closest thug, knocking him back into the sand."
"Hey, how about you stop ganging up on one guy?" I called out.
Sabo was already at my side, knocking a club away and driving his fist under another thug's ribs.
"There's fewer of them than us, just smash them!" one of the attackers yelled, charging at me with a machete.
I calmly stretched out my arm — the muscles extending and coiling into a spring.
The machete clanged harmlessly against the compressed coils of my arm.
In the same instant, my other hand — clenched into a fist — struck the attacker hard in the gut.
He gasped, bent over — and Sabo finished him off with a swift elbow to the ribs.
Another thug tried to rush us, but the boy stepped forward without a word.
Dropping the sack off his shoulder, he pulled out his club and deftly blocked the incoming strike.
The boy grabbed the opponent's arm, jerked it downward, and kneed him in the chest.
Everything happened in mere moments.
Within a couple of minutes, the attackers were retreating, cursing and stumbling, dropping their weapons.
One turned around, as if to say something, but seeing us — thought better of it and fled.
The boy still stood there, clutching his club, breathing heavily.
"Relax, we're not after your sack," Sabo said, approaching him.
The boy didn't answer right away.
Then he nodded, exhaled, and collapsed onto the sand.
"Thanks... Didn't think anyone would step in."
"You fought well," I said, crouching next to him. "What's your name?"
"...Gin. Just Gin." The name rang a faint bell in my mind.
"Bellamy," I nodded. "And this is Sabo."
"You took on ten guys alone?" Sabo crouched nearby, looking at him with genuine interest.
"Sometimes there's no choice," Gin muttered, still catching his breath.
I glanced at the sack lying nearby, still slightly dented from a recent blow.
"What's inside that they wanted it so badly?" I asked, squinting.
"Medicinal herbs," he answered dryly, wiping his forehead with a sleeve.
Sabo brightened.
"Oh, are you a doctor?"
"Not exactly," Gin said, getting up and limping slightly. "But I've learned a thing or two. People often die when there's no one around to even patch them up. So... learned by necessity."
"Useful skill," I nodded. "Especially if you're traveling through places like this island."
Gin just nodded in return, not wasting words.
"Come grab a bite with us? After a fight, food always hits better," Sabo said.
I looked at Gin and added,
"Join us. You could use the rest."
He hesitated for a second.
"I've got no money," he replied.
"Don't worry about it," I said.
"Yeah," Sabo grinned. "After the way you whacked that guy with the club — we owe you."
"It's not a club, it's tofu," Gin muttered.
We settled at a wooden table and ordered plates of fried meat, rice, and water.
Gin ate quickly and silently — clearly, he hadn't had a proper meal in a long time.
"You been here long?" I asked, tearing off a piece of bread.
"A few weeks," he mumbled, not raising his eyes.
I liked this guy: he could fight, he could heal, and he seemed like a decent person.
"How about joining my crew?" I asked seriously, looking at him.
Gin raised his gaze, something flickering in his eyes.
He set down his chopsticks, wiped his fingers on the cloth of his pants, and narrowed his eyes slightly.
"A pirate crew?" he repeated.
"Yeah," I nodded, holding his gaze. "It's no small thing to stand against ten guys alone. And if you really know medicine, we need you. Fighters who can save lives are priceless."
Sabo, chewing meat, nodded.
"I'm in too. It'll be more fun — and safer — than running around these dirty streets alone."
Gin was silent for a while.
He turned back to his bowl, seemingly pondering the food but just sitting there, hands clasped tightly together.
"I've been asked to join crews before," he said quietly. "But usually... they just used my skills and then dumped me."
I said nothing, letting him speak.
Sabo put his chopsticks down and stared at Gin without his usual lightheartedness.
"You've been on a ship before?" I asked calmly.
Gin nodded briefly.
"Yeah. With a small pirate crew — fifteen guys or so. They seemed alright... until I wasn't useful."
He lowered his head, as if recalling something awful.
"They abandoned you?" Sabo asked quietly.
Gin gave a short, almost soundless laugh.
"During a skirmish with another crew. I got hurt. As soon as they realized I couldn't heal them for a few days, they threw me overboard to avoid carrying 'dead weight.' I barely made it to this island."
"Brutal," Sabo muttered.
Gin rose from the table, nodding shortly to us.
"Let's talk tomorrow," he said, disappearing into the alleyways behind the tavern.
"I think he just wants to leave," I said, watching his figure vanish into the evening shadows.
But not even ten minutes later, a dull crash and a shout sounded from outside.
Sabo and I exchanged looks — and without a word, rushed out.
The noise led us to a dark alleyway.
There, pressed against a wall, stood Gin — beaten, his shirt torn, blood trickling from his forehead.
Before him stood a massive pirate with a red bandana and an axe at his belt, grinning cruelly.
Sabo immediately recognized him.
"I've seen that guy. That's Redge 'The Red Bluff' — eleven million belly bounty for brutality and looting."
Next to him lazily twirled a knife another guy — tall, thin, with a snake patch on his shoulder.
"Thought you could hide in this hole, Gin?" Redge sneered. "Old debts aren't forgotten."
Gin, breathing heavily, didn't back down.
"I don't owe you anything!" he spat.
Redge smirked wider, stepped forward — and punched Gin hard in the gut.
Gin barely stayed upright, coughing blood.
"Enough!" I roared.
Sabo and I burst from the shadows almost at once.
Sabo disarmed the tall guy with a swift move; I stood between Redge and Gin.
Redge wasn't interested in talking.
With a short roar, he lunged forward, raising his axe.
Fast for his size — but I was faster.
I crouched low, activating the power of my Bane Bane no Mi.
My legs coiled and launched me forward like a spring-loaded bolt.
At the last moment, I dodged aside — the axe slammed into the stone wall with a crack.
"What the...?" Redge barely had time to mutter.
I seized the momentum, coiling my arm and slamming him in the chest with catapult-like force.
BOOM!
Redge was hurled backward, crashing into trash bins and a wall with a heavy thud.
The snake-patched thug tried to strike Sabo — but Sabo, moving like a dancer, dodged and hit him square in the jaw.
He collapsed, unconscious.
Redge staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth.
"Little brats..." he growled.
"He's with us," I said coldly, stepping forward.
I bent my knees, gathering spring force again.
Muscles tensed like stretched wires.
Bane Bane no Mi: Double Pistol!
I shot forward and slammed both fists into Redge's stomach.
His head jerked back, eyes rolling — and he dropped face-first into the dirt.
The alley fell silent.
I was breathing heavily, feeling the residual vibration of stored energy in my muscles.
Sabo, off to the side, had finished with the other thug.
Gin, still leaning against the wall, looked at us with disbelief.
Gin pushed himself away from the wall with difficulty, looking at us with distrust.
"Why?..," he rasped out.
"I clearly refused you," Gin said.
I reached out my hand to him.
"I don't accept refusals," I said. "The moment I listened to you, I knew you were meant to be in my crew."
"And I remembered who he was — Gin, Krieg's right-hand man. Loyal, and more importantly, a man who understands the meaning of honor. Last time, he chose the wrong person to follow — but this time, I will set things right."
Gin hesitated for just a moment before grasping my hand.
Sabo smirked.
"Let's just finish off this guy," he said, nodding at the stirring Redge. "He recovers fast — no wonder his bounty's so high."
Redge climbed to his feet, breathing heavily but smiling savagely.
On his fingers gleamed massive metal thimbles — each punch could smash through wood.
"Don't think it'll be that easy, brats," he growled, lunging forward.
"Rest, Gin, we'll handle this," I said.
Redge charged at us faster than expected.
In an instant, he crossed the distance and swung his thimble-clad fist.
I barely dodged — even the air from the swing kicked up dust.
BOOM!
The wall he hit cracked and rained brick fragments.
"Whoa," Sabo breathed, jumping back.
"He's insanely strong," I said, springing back. "And his style — pure aggression. No breathing room."
Redge lunged at Sabo again.
Sabo ducked under the swing, but Redge pivoted quickly, swinging a vicious hook.
"He doesn't just rush — he bulldozes with his weight!" Sabo realized, dodging at the last second.
I used the opening to gather tension in my legs, my body coiled like a crossbow.
Bane Bane... Catapult Jump!
I launched myself upward, rebounding off the wall to change angle midair.
Redge didn't expect an attack from above.
I crashed my foot into his shoulder.
He staggered — but stayed upright, cold calculation flashing in his eyes.
"Bad news," Sabo muttered. "He's used to taking hits. His body's trained for it."
Redge shook off the debris and advanced again.
I regrouped.
"Sabo, we need to split his focus. He's strong head-on, but slow to retarget!" I shouted.
"Got it!"
We split up.
Sabo distracted him with quick strikes and dodges.
Redge, irritated, swung wildly — exposing himself bit by bit.
I saw my chance.
I gathered all the spring tension in my body.
Bane Bane... Battering Ram!
I launched at Redge like a fired cannonball, slamming straight into his side.
He collapsed to his knees.
Sabo seized the moment, leaping and smashing his elbow into Redge's temple.
With a heavy groan, Redge finally dropped unconscious.
The metal thimbles clattered loudly against the stones.
We stood over him, breathing hard.
"Well," Sabo grinned, wiping blood from his lip, "we did it."
I turned to Gin.
He still leaned against the wall — battered, but now looking at us very differently.