5 PURSUIT AND PROMISES
The Chrome Runnerformerly the Forge Pirates' vessel cut through the waves with surprising speed for a ship carrying forty-five refugees. I stood at the wheel, scanning the horizon behind us while Kael organized the civilians below deck.
It had been three hours since we'd escaped Gray Rock Island. Three hours since Captain Ryker had watched us sail away with his Haki-coated club and that unreadable expression.
Three hours wasn't enough distance. Not from a Marine Captain.
"Fenris!" Kael climbed up from below deck, his expression grim. "We've got a problem."
"Just one?" I asked, only half-joking.
"The refugees are terrified. Half of them think we're going to sell them to slavers. The other half think the Marines are going to catch us and execute everyone as accomplices."
I grimaced. Fair concerns, honestly. From their perspective, we were just pirates who'd stolen them along with a ship.
"Where's Dr. Chen?"
"Trying to calm people down. It's not working. They want to hear from you."
*Great. Public speaking. My favorite.*
But Kael was right. If I wanted these people to cooperate—and not panic at the first sign of trouble—I needed to address them directly.
"Fine. Gather everyone on deck who can move. Tell them… tell them their captain wants to talk."
Kael raised an eyebrow at 'captain' but didn't comment. He headed back down.
I took a moment to check our heading. The Log Pose on my wrist—also courtesy of Vargus—pointed steadily northeast. Greenrest Island was still six days away at our current speed. Six days of keeping forty-five civilians fed, calm, and hidden from Marine patrols.
*Should've just left them,* part of me thought. *Less weight, faster travel, no complications.*
But I'd made the choice. Now I had to live with it.
-----
The refugees gathered on deck slowly, warily. Families clustered together. The elderly leaned on the younger. Everyone looked exhausted, scared, and deeply uncertain about their fate.
Dr. Aria Chen stood among them, her dark hair pulled back in a practical bun, her medical bag slung over one shoulder. She met my eyes and gave a small nod. *Your show.*
I stepped forward, keeping my posture relaxed but confident. Projecting strength without threat.
"My name is Fenris," I said, voice carrying across the deck. "Some of you know me as the 'Chrome Demon' from the wanted posters. That part's true. I'm a pirate. I have a Devil Fruit. And yes, the Marines want me dead or in Impel Down."
That got some nervous murmurs. Good. Better to establish facts upfront.
"But here's what I'm *not*," I continued. "I'm not a slaver. I'm not going to sell you. I'm not going to hurt you. You're on this ship because Gray Rock Island was burning and the Marines sure as hell weren't going to save you."
I let that sink in. Several people nodded—they'd seen Ryker focus on me instead of the Forge Pirates attacking the town.
"We're headed to Greenrest Island. It's about six days away. Small population, off the main routes, safe enough for refugees. When we get there, you can leave. Find new homes. Start over. No strings attached."
"And what do you get out of it?" someone called from the crowd—a middle-aged man with suspicious eyes.
I smiled slightly. "Honestly? Nothing. Except maybe I sleep a little better knowing I didn't leave forty-five people to burn or drown."
"Why should we trust you?" another voice—a woman holding a young child.
"You shouldn't," I said bluntly. "I'm a pirate. Trust is earned, not given. But here's the reality: you're already on my ship. The Marines already saw you leave with us. Right now, your options are trust me and get to Greenrest, or… jump overboard and swim back to an island that's half-destroyed."
Harsh, but true. Several people looked uncomfortable, but no one argued.
"So here's the deal," I said. "For the next six days, you follow orders from me or my crew. We keep you fed, safe, and alive. When we reach Greenrest, you're free to go. Anyone have a problem with that?"
Silence. Then slowly, people began shaking their heads. Not agreement exactly, but acceptance.
"Good. Dr. Chen will handle any medical issues. Kael—my first mate—will organize sleeping arrangements and food distribution. Stay out of the way during sailing operations, don't touch anything you don't understand, and we'll all get through this."
I nodded to Kael, who began organizing people back below deck. The crowd dispersed slowly, still wary but slightly less terrified.
Dr. Aria approached me as the deck cleared.
"Not bad," she said. "Though 'your captain wants to talk' was a bit presumptuous."
"Seemed like the right tone." I checked the horizon again—still clear. "How are they really?"
"Scared. Traumatized. A few injuries from the attack—burns, cuts, one broken arm. Nothing I can't handle." She paused. "You really planning to just… drop them off? No demands?"
"That's the plan."
"Why?"
I thought about how to answer that. Because it was pragmatic? Because I needed to build a reputation as something other than a murderous demon? Because leaving them felt wrong in a way I couldn't quite articulate?
"Because I can," I said finally. "I've got the ship, the supplies, and the route. Might as well use them for something useful."
Aria studied me for a long moment, those intelligent eyes searching for something. Finally, she nodded. "Alright. I can work with that."
She headed below deck to check on her patients, leaving me alone at the wheel.
I was about to relax when Kael returned, his expression urgent.
"We've got movement. Northeast. Three ships."
My stomach dropped. "Marine vessels?"
"Can't tell yet. Too far. But they're on an intercept course."
*Shit.*
I grabbed the spyglass and focused on the horizon. Three shapes, barely visible in the afternoon light. No flags visible yet, but their formation was military—disciplined, purposeful.
"Could be merchants," Kael offered without conviction.
"Could be." I lowered the spyglass. "But probably not."
If it was Ryker, he'd moved fast. Called for backup, predicted our heading, and positioned a blockade. Smart. Efficient. Exactly what I'd expect from a Captain who'd fought Logia users before.
"Options?" Kael asked.
I ran through possibilities. Fight three Marine ships with one crew member and forty-five civilians? Suicide. Outrun them? Maybe, if we dumped weight—but that meant abandoning the refugees. Change course? We'd lose days, drift off the Log Pose route, and still might not shake pursuit.
"We keep going," I decided. "Maintain course and speed. If they're not Marines, we don't want to look guilty by running. If they are Marines… we deal with it."
"Deal with it how?"
"Working on that part."
-----
Two hours later, the situation was clear: definitely Marines.
Three ships in tight formation, moving to cut off our escape route. Not Ryker's vessel—these were standard patrol ships—but each carried at least forty Marines, multiple cannons, and probably a Lieutenant or Captain in command.
"They're not firing," Kael observed. "Just pursuing."
"They want us alive." I gripped the wheel tighter. "Probably got orders to capture rather than sink. Can't collect a bounty on a corpse at the bottom of the ocean."
"That's good for us, right?"
"Depends on how patient they are."
The Marine ships were faster than our stolen brigantine. Within another hour, they'd be in cannon range. Within two, boarding range.
I needed a plan. Fast.
*What do I have? Metal-Metal Fruit. Kael—solid fighter but not superhuman. Aria—doctor, not combatant. Forty-five terrified civilians who'll panic the moment fighting starts.*
*What do they have? Numbers. Training. Weapons. Haki, maybe, if a Captain's commanding.*
Standard pirate tactics wouldn't work. Running was failing. Fighting would be a massacre.
So I needed to change the game entirely.
"Kael!" I called. "Get Aria. Emergency meeting. Now."
-----
Three minutes later, we huddled near the wheel while I kept one eye on the pursuing ships.
"They're going to catch us," I said without preamble. "We can't outrun them and we can't outfight them. So we need a third option."
"Surrender?" Aria asked neutrally.
"Hell no. But something close." I turned to Kael. "How much metal is on this ship? Cannons, cannonballs, weapons, chains, anchors—everything."
He thought for a moment. "Four cannons. Maybe two hundred cannonballs. Anchor and chains. Steel reinforcements in the hull. Nails, tools, spare weapons from the Forge Pirates… probably fifteen hundred kilograms total?"
Fifteen hundred kilograms of metal. Plus the three hundred I'd already absorbed.
An idea crystallized. Crazy, dangerous, and absolutely reckless.
*Perfect.*
"Here's what we're going to do," I said. "When they get close, I'm going to create a distraction. Something big enough that they'll focus entirely on me and forget about the ship for a few minutes."
"What kind of distraction?" Aria asked warily.
"The kind where I absorb every piece of metal on this ship and turn myself into a walking fortress."
They both stared at me.
"That's insane," Kael said finally.
"Probably. But it'll work." I hoped. "While they're focused on me, you two get everyone below deck, seal the hatches, and sail like hell for Greenrest. Six days at full speed with favorable winds, you can make it before they regroup."
"And what happens to you?" Aria demanded.
"I buy you time, then escape. I'm a Logia—I can turn into liquid metal and slip away once they're distracted enough."
"You'll be fighting an entire Marine squadron alone."
"Not fighting. Distracting. There's a difference." I met their eyes. "Look, I'm not planning to die here. But those people below deck didn't ask to be part of this. They don't deserve to get caught in a Marine assault because I pissed off the wrong Captain."
Kael crossed his arms. "You're taking all the metal off the ship. Including the cannons. How exactly are we supposed to defend ourselves if more Marines show up?"
"You don't fight. You run and hide. This ship is full of civilians—you play the refugee card. Say you stole a pirate ship during the chaos on Gray Rock Island. Beg for mercy. Marines won't slaughter innocent people. Probably."
"That's a lot of 'probably' and 'hope' in one plan," Aria said dryly.
"Welcome to piracy." I checked the distance—Marines were definitely closing. "I need an answer now. Are you both in?"
Kael looked at Aria. Aria looked at me. Neither looked happy.
Finally, Kael sighed. "Fine. But if you die, I'm going to be really annoyed."
"Noted." I turned to Aria. "Doctor?"
"I hate this plan," she said. "But I don't have a better one. So yes. I'm in."
**[New Quest: Tactical Diversion]**
**[Objective: Distract the Marine squadron while your ship escapes]**
**[Reward: +1500 EXP, Enhanced Metal Manipulation, Crew Loyalty +20]**
-----
The next thirty minutes were preparation.
I moved through the ship systematically, touching every piece of metal I could find. Cannons dissolved into liquid chrome and flowed into my body. Cannonballs, chains, tools, nails, steel reinforcements—everything.
**[Metal Absorbed: Ship Components (1,487 kg)]**
**[Total Metal Mass: 1,787 kg]**
My body felt *heavy*. Denser. Like my bones had been replaced with lead. Every movement took conscious effort as I adjusted to the massive increase in metal mass.
But I also felt *powerful*. Nearly two tons of metal under my control. I could feel it all—every kilogram, every molecule, ready to reshape itself at my command.
Kael gathered the refugees below deck and explained the situation. There was panic, crying, prayers. But no one had better suggestions.
Aria prepared emergency medical supplies and positioned herself near the helm. "Just so you know," she said quietly, "if you get yourself killed, I'm going to resurrect you just so I can kill you again."
"Deal."
The Marine ships were close now. Five hundred meters. Four hundred. Three hundred.
I stood on the deck, transformed my body fully into chrome, and began reshaping myself.
My arms extended, thickened, became massive blades. My torso expanded, layered with protective plating. My legs stabilized, rooted like pillars. I was no longer human-shaped—I was a nine-foot-tall metal construct, bristling with blades and spikes, reflecting the sunlight like a living mirror.
**[Transformation: Chrome Goliath]**
**[All physical stats +100%, Durability increased, Speed decreased]**
**[Stamina drain: Moderate]**
"ATTENTION PIRATE VESSEL!" A voice boomed across the water, amplified by a speaking device. "THIS IS MARINE LIEUTENANT COMMANDER STONE! YOU ARE SURROUNDED! SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!"
I took a deep breath—or the approximation of one in liquid metal form—and dove off the side of the ship.
-----
I hit the water hard, my massive metal body sinking immediately. Water was my weakness, would drain my strength, could theoretically kill me if I stayed submerged too long.
So I didn't stay submerged.
I activated my metal manipulation from below the surface, creating propulsion through directed liquid metal jets. My body shot upward like a chrome missile, breaking the surface in an explosive spray.
I landed on the lead Marine ship's deck with enough force to crack the wood.
Marines scattered. Guns fired. Swords swung at me.
Everything passed through harmlessly. I was liquid metal—they couldn't hurt me without Haki, and these were standard patrol Marines, not specialists.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" someone screamed.
I reformed into my full Chrome Goliath shape, towering over them, and roared—a metallic, echoing sound that sent several Marines stumbling back in fear.
Then I started *absorbing*.
Their cannons dissolved. Their swords melted. Their rifles flowed into my mass like water joining a river. Marines dropped their weapons in terror as metal literally crawled off them and merged with me.
**[Metal Absorbed: Marine Vessel Weapons (843 kg)]**
**[Total Metal Mass: 2,630 kg]**
I was massive now. Twelve feet tall. Arms like wrecking balls. A walking catastrophe of liquid chrome.
"OPEN FIRE! ALL SHIPS! TAKE IT DOWN!"
Cannons roared from the other two Marine vessels. Cannonballs slammed into me, passing through my liquid form, splashing into the ocean.
Perfect. They were fully focused on me now.
I leaped from the first ship to the second, landing with enough force to collapse part of the deck. More Marines attacked. More weapons dissolved into my mass.
**[Metal Absorbed: Additional Weapons (657 kg)]**
**[Total Metal Mass: 3,287 kg]**
I was a walking disaster now. Every movement shook the ship. My weight was becoming a liability—the deck groaned under me, boards splintering.
"Fall back!" a Lieutenant shouted. "Everyone off the deck! Abandon—"
I didn't let him finish. I swept my massive arm across the ship's mast, and it crashed into the water with a thunderous splash.
Behind me, in the distance, I saw the *Chrome Runner* adjusting course. Sails full. Moving northeast at maximum speed.
*Good. Get out of here.*
"DEMON!" someone screamed. "IT'S A DEMON!"
Not a demon. Just a very pissed-off Logia user with way too much metal.
I jumped to the third ship. More chaos. More weapons absorbed. The Marines were in full panic now—firing wildly, abandoning positions, some even diving overboard.
**[Metal Absorbed: Final Vessel Weapons (531 kg)]**
**[Total Metal Mass: 3,818 kg]**
Nearly four tons of metal. I could barely move. My stamina was draining fast—maintaining this much mass in liquid form was like running a marathon while carrying a building.
**[Stamina: 42/150]**
Time to exit.
I dove off the third ship, hit the water, and immediately started sinking. The weight was enormous—I plummeted like an anchor.
*Release the mass. Now.*
I let go of most of the absorbed metal, letting it fall away into the ocean depths. My body lightened dramatically as tons of steel, iron, and bronze sank into darkness.
**[Metal Released: 3,100 kg]**
**[Total Metal Mass: 718 kg]**
Much better. I could breathe again—metaphorically.
I swam underwater, using liquid metal propulsion to move horizontally away from the Marine ships. My Devil Fruit weakness made swimming exhausting, but I pushed through, focusing on distance and stealth.
After five minutes, I surfaced a kilometer away from the Marine vessels. They were still in chaos—masts broken, decks damaged, weapons gone. They'd be hours recovering.
The *Chrome Runner* was a tiny speck on the horizon, sails full, moving away fast.
Mission accomplished.
Now I just had to swim back to the ship before I drowned from exhaustion.
-----
**Two hours later**, I dragged myself onto the deck of the *Chrome Runner*, soaking wet, completely human-formed, and utterly drained.
Kael pulled me up the rest of the way. "You look like hell."
"Feel worse." I collapsed on the deck, panting. "Are we clear?"
"For now. No pursuit. You destroyed their masts and took their weapons—they're sitting ducks until reinforcements arrive."
"Good."
Aria appeared, medical bag in hand. She knelt beside me, checking my pulse and eyes. "You're suffering from extreme stamina depletion and mild hypothermia. Also, you're an idiot."
"So I've been told."
She pulled out a blanket and wrapped it around me. "The refugees want to thank you. Some of them are calling you a hero."
I laughed weakly. "I'm a pirate. Not a hero."
"You saved forty-five people and fought off three Marine ships alone. Whatever you think you are, they see something different."
I was too tired to argue. I just closed my eyes and focused on breathing.
**[Quest Complete: Tactical Diversion]**
**[Reward: +1500 EXP, Metal Mass Limit Increased, Crew Loyalty +20]**
**[LEVEL UP! → Level 6]**
**[All Stats +5, Logia Mastery +3%, Metal Mass Capacity: 800kg]**
**[New Skill Unlocked: Advanced Metal Shaping]**
**[Can now create complex structures and maintain multiple forms simultaneously]**
Kael sat down beside me. "That was the craziest thing I've ever seen. And I've seen a lot of crazy things."
"Thanks."
"I'm serious. You turned yourself into a metal giant and took on an entire squadron. That's… that's the kind of thing legends are made of."
"Or stupidity."
"Sometimes they're the same thing."
Aria stood. "Rest. We're five days from Greenrest now. No more heroics until then."
"Deal."
As I lay there on the deck, wrapped in a blanket, exhausted beyond measure, I felt something unexpected:
*Satisfaction.*
I'd made the right call. Saved the refugees. Protected my crew. Survived against overwhelming odds.
Maybe I wasn't just building power. Maybe I was building something more.
A crew. A reputation. A purpose.
*Not bad for a pirate who just wanted to survive.*
I let sleep take me, the sound of waves and wind lulling me into darkness.
[END CHAPTER 5]