The harbor master's office smelled of old rope and bureaucracy, its walls lined with charts dating back decades. Harbor Master Yokozuna – a bull-like man with arms the size of ship masts – spread incident reports across his desk like a general planning a campaign.
"Three wrecks in the past six months," he rumbled, pointing to marked locations on a large chart of the local waters. "All in roughly the same area. All during freak storms that appeared out of nowhere."
Kael studied the pattern, his enhanced navigation sense automatically calculating distances and angles. The wrecks formed a rough triangle around the artificial reef, with his own ship being the most recent casualty.
"What kind of vessels?" he asked.
"Mixed bag. Merchant ship carrying medical supplies. Private yacht belonging to some noble from the South Blue. And your Marine vessel." Yokozuna scratched his massive chin. "Different ships, different purposes, but all following the same basic shipping lane."
"Any survivors from the other wrecks?"
"None from the merchant ship. Found wreckage scattered across twenty square kilometers – looked like the vessel had been torn apart by a hurricane. The yacht..." Yokozuna paused, flipping through his reports. "Had one survivor. Rich kid named Marcus something-or-other. But he didn't stick around long enough for a proper interview. His family whisked him away for 'medical treatment' the day after we fished him out."
Kael made a mental note to track down this Marcus if possible. Another survivor might have insights about the unnatural storms, assuming the trauma hadn't driven him mad.
THE PATTERN SUGGESTS SYSTEMATIC TARGETING, the system observed. HOWEVER, THE SELECTION CRITERIA REMAIN UNCLEAR.
A commotion outside interrupted his thoughts. Through the office window, Kael could see people running along the docks, pointing toward the harbor mouth. The sky, which had been clear moments before, was rapidly darkening with clouds that moved far too fast for natural weather patterns.
"What the hell?" Yokozuna stood up, his chair groaning in protest. "Weather station didn't predict any storms today."
But Kael was already accessing his Weather Prophet ability, and what he sensed made his blood run cold. The approaching storm system was identical to the one that had destroyed his ship – unnatural wind patterns, impossible pressure differentials, and an underlying energy signature that spoke of deliberate manipulation.
WARNING: SUPERNATURAL WEATHER EVENT DETECTED. CLASSIFICATION: DEVIL FRUIT MANIPULATION. ESTIMATED TIME TO IMPACT: 8 MINUTES.
"We need to evacuate the harbor," Kael said urgently. "Get all the boats to shelter, now."
Yokozuna stared at him. "Based on what? Those clouds just rolled in. Could be nothing more than a brief squall."
But even as he spoke, the wind began to pick up, sending papers flying around the office. Through the window, they could see small fishing boats struggling against sudden whitecaps that hadn't existed moments before.
YOUR WEATHER PROPHET ABILITY IS DETECTING PATTERNS TOO SUBTLE FOR NORMAL OBSERVATION, the system explained. TRUST YOUR ENHANCED PERCEPTION.
"Harbor Master," Kael said, dropping all pretense of casual concern, "I survived the storm that killed my crew. I know what one of these unnatural weather events looks like, and this is exactly the same thing. If we don't act now, people are going to die."
Something in his voice must have convinced Yokozuna, because the big man immediately reached for the emergency horn. Three long blasts echoed across the harbor – the signal for all vessels to seek immediate shelter.
But for one small fishing boat near the harbor mouth, the warning came too late.
Kael watched in horror as forty-foot waves suddenly materialized around the tiny vessel. The boat – probably carrying a crew of three or four fishermen – was barely fifty feet long. It stood no chance against the supernatural forces bearing down on it.
"The rescue boats will never make it in time," Yokozuna said grimly, reaching for his radio. "Storm's moving too fast."
ANALYSIS COMPLETE, the system announced. OPTIMAL RESCUE TRAJECTORY CALCULATED. HOWEVER, SUCCESS REQUIRES DIRECT INTERVENTION.
"What kind of intervention?"
YOU MUST GUIDE A RESCUE VESSEL THROUGH THE STORM USING ENHANCED NAVIGATION. WARNING: THIS WILL EXPOSE YOUR ABILITIES TO OBSERVATION.
Kael was already moving before the system finished speaking. "I need a boat," he told Yokozuna. "Something fast and maneuverable."
"Are you insane? No boat can handle those conditions!"
"I can." Kael met the harbor master's eyes, letting him see the absolute certainty there. "Trust me."
Something about his confidence must have been contagious, because Yokozuna grabbed a set of keys from his desk. "Dock twelve. Maritime patrol cutter. She's fast, but if you get yourself killed, I'm not explaining it to the Marines."
Kael was already running.
The patrol cutter was a sleek vessel designed for speed and agility. As he fired up the engines, his enhanced perception automatically analyzed its capabilities – maximum speed, turning radius, structural stress tolerances. The boat could handle rough seas if piloted correctly, but "correctly" meant navigating with a precision that no normal human could achieve.
INTEGRATING VESSEL SPECIFICATIONS WITH WEATHER PREDICTION DATA, the system announced as Kael pulled away from the dock. OPTIMAL COURSE PLOTTED. FOLLOW THE INDICATED NAVIGATION OVERLAY.
A translucent path appeared in his vision, showing him exactly where to steer to avoid the worst of the storm's fury. The route looked impossible – threading between waves that towered overhead, riding currents that seemed to flow in defiance of physics. But his enhanced navigation sense confirmed that it was indeed possible, if he could maintain perfect timing.
The storm hit with the force of a sledgehammer.
Wind shrieked across the water, driving spray that stung like needles. The patrol cutter bucked and rolled as waves crashed over her bow, but Kael held her steady on the impossible course the system had calculated. He could feel the boat's limits, could sense exactly how much stress the hull could take before something critical failed.
FISHING VESSEL LOCATED. BEARING 347 DEGREES. DISTANCE 400 METERS.
Through the chaos, Kael caught glimpses of the struggling fishing boat. It was taking on water, listing heavily to starboard as its crew fought to keep her afloat. Another few minutes and the sea would claim them.
But reaching them meant navigating through the worst part of the storm – an area where the waves seemed to move with malevolent intelligence, creating perfect traps for any vessel foolish enough to enter.
WARNING: APPROACHING OPTIMAL RESCUE WINDOW. MARGIN OF ERROR: 3.7 SECONDS.
Kael pushed the cutter to its limits, following the system's guidance with absolute faith. Left fifteen degrees. Throttle up to 85%. Hard right turn in three... two... one...
The boat carved through the water like a knife, riding the storm's own energy to reach the fishing vessel just as a massive wave was about to swamp it completely. Kael pulled alongside, fighting to keep both boats stable in the churning sea.
"Throw me a line!" he shouted to the fishermen.
The next few minutes were a blur of desperate activity. Working together, they managed to transfer the fishing boat's crew to the patrol cutter just before their vessel finally succumbed to the storm. Watching the small boat disappear beneath the waves, Kael felt a familiar pang of loss – another vessel claimed by forces beyond human control.
But this time, the crew had survived.
RETURN NAVIGATION CALCULATED. STORM INTENSITY DECREASING. ESTIMATED SAFE HARBOR TIME: 12 MINUTES.
The trip back to dock was less dramatic but no less dangerous. The storm continued to rage, but its supernatural fury was beginning to fade. By the time Kael guided the patrol cutter into safe harbor, the clouds were already breaking apart, revealing patches of blue sky that had been completely hidden moments before.
The three fishermen he'd rescued were in shock, babbling about waves that came from nowhere and winds that seemed to have minds of their own. But they were alive, and that was what mattered.
"Incredible seamanship," Yokozuna said as Kael climbed back onto the dock. "I've never seen anyone navigate conditions like that. Where did you learn to read weather patterns so precisely?"
"Experience," Kael replied, though he could see the harbor master wasn't entirely satisfied with the answer. "You pick things up after a few years on the Grand Line."
But even as he spoke, Kael was aware of curious stares from the growing crowd of dock workers and fishermen. Word of his impossible rescue was already spreading, and with it, questions about how a single navigator could accomplish what an entire rescue squadron couldn't have managed.
YOUR ABILITIES ARE NOW KNOWN TO APPROXIMATELY THIRTY-SEVEN WITNESSES, the system noted. RECOMMENDATION: DEPART WATER 7 WITHIN 72 HOURS TO AVOID DETAILED INVESTIGATION.
The warning was timely. Kael could already see a Marine uniform pushing through the crowd – probably someone sent to investigate the incident. His window of anonymity was closing fast.
"I should file my report," he told Yokozuna, backing away from the crowd. "Storm conditions like that need to be documented."
It was a weak excuse, but it got him away from the growing attention. As he made his way back to his lodgings, Kael's mind raced. His Weather Prophet ability had saved lives today, but it had also exposed him to scrutiny he couldn't afford. Sooner or later, someone would start asking how he'd known the storm was coming when even the weather station had been caught off-guard.
Back in his room, he pulled out his resignation letter and added his signature without hesitation. His time as a Marine was officially over.
Now he just had to figure out what came next.