"How can you be so sure?" Mihawk asked, his sharp gaze fixed on me.
"It's my instinct talking." I replied with calm confidence.
Mihawk gave a slight nod, taking this absurdly massive sword in his hands. "I need to know if you're the kind of man a swordsman like me could follow." He launched forward, pavement cracking beneath his feet.
"Alright." I said.
Mihawk moved, fast, but not fast enough.
I threw a few jabs that whistled through the air. He dodged, and drew that massive blade with a hiss. He swung low, aiming to cut me at the knees.
I jumped, and brought my foot crashing down. He blocked. The force sent him skidding back, boots grinding against the stone.
He came again. I caught the edge of his blade with my forearm, felt the sting as it sliced skin.
My knuckles slammed into his ribs. He grunted. Stepped back. Smirked. "Not bad…"
I wiped blood from my arm and caught his second swing, then drove a kick to his knees. Solid hit. He staggered but spun with it, bringing his blade toward my shoulder.
I jumped back, just in time.
We clashed again.
I grabbed his wrist mid-strike, twisted it hard, and slammed my elbow into his shoulder and threw a hook that caught him clean across the jaw.
He hit the wall, spit blood. 'The fact that we're in a small alley is to my advantage.'
Mihawk, lying flat on his back, didn't seem angry.
He chuckled, low and dry, then slowly rose, brushing dirt off his coat.
He went silent for a moment. Then, with a slight nod, he said. "Alright... I'm in." He extended his hand toward me. "Dracule Mihawk. And you, Captain? What should I call you?"
I took his hand firmly and said. "Morca."
He gave a nod.
"How many are we?" He asked.
I looked him and replied. "To be honest, you're my first recruit."
He didn't say anything, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he probably felt a little cheated.
"You staying at an inn or on a boat?" I asked.
"I've got a raft, but right now I'm staying at an inn." he replied.
"I'll follow you then. We'll figure out what to do later." I said, and we started walking toward the inn he was staying at.
Using the Berries Tod and Bob had left me with, I paid for a room.
The next morning, as I got ready, I could already hear the commotion outside from my room, the sound of a moving crowd, in the street, more than the day before. It was time. The execution of Gol D. Roger was about to begin.
Fully dressed, I stepped out of my room. Mihawk was already downstairs, calm as ever, standing near the exit of the inn.
"Let's go. I think we had come here, in Loguetown to see the same thing." I said.
"Yeah, let's go see it." He replied with a nod, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Together, we pushed through the doorway into the chaos of the street.
The city was packed. The entire street was a sea of people, civilians, pirates, merchants, Marines, and all kinds of people had gathered for one reason, to witness the death of the Pirate King. We made our way, weaving through the crowd.
As we reached the town square, the large bells began to toll ominously.
DONG... DONG...
All heads turned as the sound echoed through the city. There he was, Gol D. Roger himself, walking up the steps with heavy, but proud steps, flanked by two solemn executioners. His wrists were shackled, but his back was straight. His face… it was calm, even smiling, as if this was just another day.
It's frankly surprising to see this in real life, his serenity in the face of death.
He sat down atop the execution platform, towering above the sea of spectators. The square fell into a heavy silence, and then—
"Hey, Pirate King!" someone shouted from the crowd, desperation and excitement in his voice. "Where'd you hide your treasure?! We know you found it! The legendary treasure! The one that brings it all together, the One Piece!!!"
Roger's grin widened. Then, from up high, he laughed, loud.
"Wahahahahaha! My treasure? If you want it, you can have it..."
The executioners flinched, stepping forward to silence him, weapons raised—but he went on.
"...Find it! I left it all in that place!"
His voice rang out across the plaza, a spark lighting within the hearts of everyone listening.
"In that vast world!"
TSHING!
In a single synchronized motion, the executioners struck.
The swords pierced his body. And just like that, Gol D. Roger was dead.
But in that one final moment.
He'd lit the fire that would burn across the world.
We had just witnessed the birth of a new era.
People started running in every direction, shouting, pushing past one another, most of them rushing straight toward the port.
Amid the chaos, Mihawk stood still beside me, watching the frenzy unfold. He smiled. Just a little amused curve of the lips.
"I made the right call joining you, Morca." He said calmly, his eyes still on the crowd.
I gave him a nod in return. 'Obviously my simple speech the day before had not completely convinced him, but that's why I did it before he heard Roger's words.'
All around us, I noticed familiar faces, ones I'd only ever seen on a screen. A young Shanks eyes wide with grief, holding his straw hat to hide his face, and a young Buggy eyes filled with tears.
But what truly caught my attention was a tall man in a dark cloak, face half-shadowed by his hood.
Monkey D. Dragon.
He felt my gaze and locked eyes with me for a brief moment, then disappeared into the crowd.
'Right... Many characters... Hmph people were present here.' I thought, before turning my focus back.
"We need a real ship. A raft won't take us far, and we'll need a proper map too." I said.
"I've got a map. Let's get it from my raft first." Mihawk replied without hesitation.
"Good. After that, we take the first ship we can find."
With that plan set, we left the square and made our way to where Mihawk had moored his modest raft. True to his word, the map was tucked safely inside. He handed it to me, and we both turned toward the port.
By the time we arrived, most ships were already gone. Only a few vessels remained.
"Let's take that one." I said, pointing to the nearest ship that looked sturdy enough to handle open seas.
Without a word, I began untying the ropes securing it to the dock, while Mihawk leapt aboard and adjusted the sails.
The wind caught the sails.
The ship creaked as it pulled away from the dock.
And just like that…
We set sail.
As soon as we left the dock behind, the ship gently rocking beneath our feet, my thoughts drifted with the waves.
'Should I take us to Fishman Island?' I pondered. 'It might be the only place I can learn more about myself… maybe even get a better idea of how old I really am, from someone who actually understands Fishmen or Merfolk biology.'
I let out a slow breath. 'And I need to start training, Haki is a priority. If I want to reach the top of this world, I can't afford to get rusty.'
Suddenly, the door to the lower cabin creaked open behind me.
I turned sharply, instincts flaring. I could only make out a shadow stepping into the light, the sun outlining the figure in a faint glow.
The figure stood there in silence for a moment, then finally spoke, their voice laced with mock amusement.
"Well, well, well… I don't remember setting a course."
He stepped fully into the light, and I finally saw his face.
Calm, composed, a cigarette now dangling between his lips, with the air of someone without a care in the world.
But I wasn't fooled.
I shifted into a guarded stance, my muscles tense. And just as I expected, in one sudden motion, he drew a flintlock pistol from his back and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
BANG!
I ducked low, the shot whizzing past me..
"Hmph." he exhaled a puff of smoke. "A target that actually moves. This might be fun, for once."
Mihawk, poised up on the platform above with one hand already resting on the hilt of his blade, seemed ready to jump into the fray. But I raised my hand, signaling him, 'don't interfere.'
My opponent, unfazed, and quickly fired off another volley.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
One bullet grazed my shoulder, but I pushed forward. The rest missed, because I managed to avoid them, cutting through the air just behind me as I closed the distance in a blur.
Now we were close, too close for his pistol to be of any real use.
He tried to raise it again, but I slapped it aside, then caught his wrist with a vice-like grip.
His eyes narrowed as he clicked his tongue. "Tss."
He tried to twist out, but he couldn't match my strength.
"Alright, we can stop here. How about we talk instead?" He said calmly despite the tension still in the air.
We were near the edge of the ship now. Just a few inches back and I could toss him overboard, finish this fight in the sea, where I held the advantage.
"Go on then, I'm listening." I replied, not loosening my grip just yet.
He looked me in the eyes. "Benn Beckman. You're on my ship." he said evenly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
From the upper platform, Mihawk dropped down silently, landing beside me.
I nodded once and said. "Morca. And him, that's Mihawk."
Beckman's eyes shifted to Mihawk briefly "I suppose he's just as resourceful as you are." Beckman said.
Seeing the tension fade, I let go of him. He rubbed his wrist where I'd grabbed him, then reached into his pocket, pulled out another cigarette, and lit it, letting the smoke curl into the air.
"Thanks." he said, exhaling slowly.
Mihawk stood by, silent but alert, his gaze never straying far from Beckman.
Beckman started walking across the deck, each step calm and composed. He crouched near the railing and picked up his flintlock, brushing off some dust before slinging it back across his back.
"You two seem... interesting." he said, standing back up straight. Then, with a faint grin, he added. "Mind if I tag along?"
'I was planning to approach him anyway.'
"No." I said simply.
He stepped closer, now standing just in front of us, and extended his hand toward me. We shook hands.
"Welcome to the crew, Beckman." I said with my deep voice.
Mihawk looked on silently, his arms crossed, giving Beckman a faint nod of acknowledgement.
My journey had only just begun, but the crew was starting to take shape.
We started talking, the air now much lighter between us.
"So, how old are you?" Beckman asked, leaning casually against the railing.
"19." Mihawk answered plainly, then glanced at him. "And you?"
"26. And you, Captain?" Beckman asked, turning his gaze toward me.
"I don't know." I replied.
Both of them turned their heads toward me at the same time, clearly surprised.
"You don't know?" Beckman asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mihawk looked at me with narrowed eyes, curious.
"Lost your memory or something?" Beckman continued.
"I just don't know when I was born." I answered simply. 'I wasn't going to invent something.'
"Anyway, it's getting late." I said, and with that, we all headed to sleep for the night.
The next morning, we found ourselves back on the deck. The sea was calm, the wind gentle, and the sun barely rising over the horizon. I looked at the two of them and broke the silence.
"Do you know about Haki?" I asked.
"I've heard of it." Beckman replied, lighting his cigarette as usual.
"Yes." Mihawk added, arms crossed, watching the sea.
"I see." I said with a nod. "Then let me make something clear, it's one of our goals to learn it."
"And not just that." I continued. "We also need to get our hands on the six powers, the Rokushiki techniques. If we want to reach the top... we need to collect every edge we can."
"If that's the priority, then we also need more crew members." Beckman said, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. "A cook and a doctor are essential, for starters."
"Yeah. That goes without saying, we need more people." I replied, nodding. "And a name. Even a jolly roger."
"Let's think about the name later. For now, let's head toward Kokoyashi, there's a Marine base there. We might be able to get something useful out of it." I said, giving the directive with a calm but decisive tone.
Beckman nodded, already stepping toward the helm. "Got it. I'll adjust our heading."
Mihawk moved toward the sails without a word, his expression focused. The quiet efficiency between us was starting to set in, no wasted time.
Later...
I dove into the water. It was quiet, save for the distant sounds of the ship creaking above and the deeper, guttural echoes of the sea itself.
I didn't have to wait long.
A shadow passed beneath me, massive, slow-moving. A Sea Monster, too small to be a Sea King. I swam toward it without hesitation. As it turned, sensing me.
It lunged, maw wide open. I dodged fast, shooting to the side with a burst of speed. My fist collided with the side of its jaw, hard enough to send shockwaves through the water. It roared, bubbles spiraling upward.
Another came, smaller, but faster. I met it head-on, grabbing it by the snout and twisting with raw strength, using its own momentum against it.
I could feel it, my instincts sharpening, my body learning. This was training. 'Maybe I could figure out Fishman Karate.'
The sea was vast. And I had every intention of mastering it.