That entrance, that power, that spectacle. Full marks.
I, Kael Grylls, declare it a perfect flex.
Maybe the World Government's News Coo is circling nearby. Maybe my first battle will get recorded and I will have my very own wanted poster.
"Kael Grylls, bounty… has to start at a million Berries at least." He rubbed his chin and plotted. "Pick a handsome photo. Best would be the shot of me striding across the waves."
He was savoring the daydream of instant fame when Roger's atmosphere-destroying bellow came from the ship.
"Kuahahaha. Kael. Beautiful work. Get back here, we are throwing a feast."
Kael clicked his tongue, then let the water under his feet lift and spring him lightly back onto the deck.
Night fell. Fire popped and crackled on the planks, painting the three faces orange. Fat cuts of meat hissed over the flames, perfume of grease rolling on the wind.
Roger and Rayleigh clinked tin cups with a dull thunk.
"To our future great pirate, and to Kael's victorious debut. Cheers." Roger laughed and knocked back his rum.
Kael raised his own cup, ready to join in, but Rayleigh slid a hand in the way without making a scene.
He looked down. His wooden cup held something fragrant and sweet. Orange juice.
"No alcohol for minors," Rayleigh said, pushing up his glasses. Flat tone, no room for argument.
Kael's smile froze. "But…"
"Kuahahaha. Brats drink juice," Roger crowed, topping up his own cup while enjoying the view of Kael's suffering.
Kael took a defiant gulp of orange juice and flamed silently. Tch. Juice is great. Juice prevents scurvy.
Three rounds of drink, five flavors of meat.
Kael sprawled on a crate, rubbed his round belly, and loosed a profoundly satisfied burp.
His eyes drifted to the flotsam bobbing far off in the dark. A serious thought landed.
"Captain," he groaned, "I think we, uh, lost."
"Hm?" Roger looked over, a barrel hugged to his chest.
"I blew their ship apart," Kael said, face crumpling. "All their Berries, treasure, food, every last thing sank. We worked our butts off and came up with nothing."
Roger paused mid tooth-pick, then slapped his thigh. "You are right."
Rayleigh pinched the bridge of his nose. These two had a gift for the wrong takeaway.
"Kuahahaha. Little Kael, good thinking," Roger said, cheeks flushed with drink as he swayed to his feet and loomed over Kael. "But money is small stuff. You did well today, yet there is a long way to go."
He raised a finger and wagged it under Kael's nose. "Your strike was flashy, sure, but the power was not tight. Add that thing and you double the punch."
"That thing?" Kael's mental CPU stuttered.
"Haki. Haki," Roger grinned with a face that said how do you not know this. "Come on. I will teach you right now. Time you tasted true strength."
Kael sprang up in an instant, eyes blazing.
Armament Haki. The standard kit for New World monsters.
Rayleigh looked at Roger, drunk and beaming, and the warning glyph in his eyes might as well have read hazard. He opened his mouth, closed it, sighed, and quietly took two prudent steps back from the teaching site.
"Watch closely, little Kael." Roger set a horse stance, drew a long breath, and clenched his right fist. "Armament Haki goes like this."
Black luster snapped over his knuckles. He turned, picked the ship's rail as a target, and drove his fist forward.
"Ha."
Crack… sploosh.
Time froze.
Roger's fist had punched straight through the hull.
A nice big hole gaped in the ship's side. Cold seawater roared in with a very confident hiss.
The deck's mood dropped to absolute zero.
Roger drew his hand back, looked at the shrieking hole, then at his knuckles. The alcohol bled out of his face. His expression went blank.
Kael's excitement turned to stone, then shattered like glass. His pupils pinpricked, his jaw unhinged, and he became a live action version of The Scream.
A heartbeat later, a howl ripped the night.
"You damned Captain."
Kael scrambled and lunged for the wound in the rail. Watching the sea pour in, he felt his heart go just as cold.
"The ship is going to sink. We are done for." He tried to plug it with both hands, but the pressure shoved him aside. No chance.
"Ahaha… that was an accident," Roger said, scratching his head and looking very small for a very big man.
"Accident my ass." Kael yelled over his shoulder, voice breaking. "Who told you to use our ship for the demonstration?"
As the water climbed, a spark hit. He slammed both palms to the boards around the hole.
Wave-Wave Fruit, engage.
"Vibrate it back."
High-frequency waves rippled into the hull. The wood around the breach began to buzz hard enough to blur. The incoming water bowed under the force and shoved outward, a temporary barrier of overlapping ripples.
Kael clenched phantom fingers in the air. He grabbed the flood inside the cabin, turned it into a stream, and sent it hosing back out through the hole.
By the end sweat slicked his face and his breath tore at his lungs. The danger was not gone. The hole was still there.
"Hey. Rayleigh. Stop spectating. Find something to patch this." Kael roared at the first mate, who had discreetly retreated under the mast.
Rayleigh sighed again, set down his cup, wore the expression of a man who expected exactly this, and resignedly started digging for planks and tools.
As for the culprit, once the initial shock passed, he took in Kael's frantic flailing and could not hold it back. The roaring laugh detonated.
"Kuahahahaha. Little Kael. You… you were hilarious just now. Kuahaha."
"Laugh my damn. Help."
In the end the three of them, flustered and soaked, slapped a few boards over the wound and bullied the ocean back out.
Kael starfished on the wet deck like a dead fish, staring up at the stars with empty eyes. The future had never looked so bleak.
If I bail now, do I still have time?