5
After the brutal test, I'm thrown back into the prison cell, the door clanging shut with a finality that echoes in the small space. Exhaustion, both physical and mental, weighs heavily on me. The realization that I've become a killer, even in self-defense, is a burden that I struggle to bear.
Hours pass, or maybe it's days. Time blurs in the dim confines of my cell. Then, the vice-captain of the pirate crew comes to visit me. He's a sly-looking man, his eyes always calculating. "So, you want to stay alive, huh?" he begins, his voice oily. "Well, you're going to have to be useful until we reach the next island. Prove your worth, and maybe you'll earn your freedom."
As the vice-captain walks away from the cell where the new prisoner is kept, a smirk plays on his lips. In his mind, he's already charting out the future for this unfortunate soul. He views the young man not as a person but as an opportunity, a valuable asset that could significantly boost his earnings.
In the solitude of his quarters, the vice-captain leans back in his chair, pondering his plans. He thinks about the prisoner's naivety, how easily he bought into the lie of potential freedom. "Give them a glimmer of hope, and they'll do anything you want," he muses to himself. It's a tactic he's used time and again, and it never fails.
As he gazes out of the porthole, watching the waves crash against the ship, his thoughts are clear and cold. The prisoner will be useful for now, doing menial tasks, taking on the work that no one else wants to do. He'll work hard, driven by the false hope of freedom, making him all the more compliant.
But once they reach the next port, the vice-captain has no intention of letting him go. The thought of selling him into slavery is far more appealing. He imagines the bargaining process, the haggling over prices, and the satisfaction of closing a lucrative deal. The idea of exploiting the prisoner's fleeting moment of victory in the fight, turning it into a profitable transaction, brings a sense of twisted satisfaction.
"Freedom," he scoffs quietly to himself, "such a powerful illusion."
His plan is simple: keep the prisoner in the dark, make him believe that his hard work will pay off, then sell him off to the highest bidder. It's a cruel fate, but in the vice-captain's world, cruelty is a currency more valuable than gold.
As the island draws near, the vice-captain starts to make arrangements. He has contacts in the port, slavers and traders who will pay handsomely for a strong, able-bodied man. He's already envisioning the gold that will soon line his pockets.
But amidst his scheming, there's a tiny flicker of caution. He's seen the prisoner fight, seen the desperation and determination. He knows that this one won't go quietly. Precautions will need to be taken, extra guards perhaps. He can't afford any slip-ups, not when profit is at stake.
The vice-captain stands, his mind made up. He'll play the game, keep the prisoner hoping, working, unknowing. And when the time is right, he'll strike, ensuring his prize doesn't slip through his fingers.
The next day, as I start working on the deck, I'm introduced to various members of the pirate crew. Each of them has their own unique demeanor and backstory. Among them is a man named John, who shares a particularly harrowing tale one night.
John, a sturdy man with eyes that have seen too much, tells us that he was once a civilian. His voice is low and heavy with the weight of his past as he recounts how a Celestial Dragon visited his village. The visit brought destruction and chaos, forcing him to flee for his life. With nowhere else to turn, he found his way into the world of piracy. As he speaks, I can't help but notice the distant, haunted look in his eyes — a stark reminder of the cruelty and injustice that pervade the world of One Piece.
Another crew member, a wiry man with a quick smile, shares his story too. He talks of being betrayed by a trusted friend, losing everything he had. Turning to piracy was his way of taking control of his destiny, of writing his own story in a world that had been unkind to him.
Night after night, as we gather on the deck with nothing to do but share tales and listen to the creaking of the ship, I learn more about my fellow crew members. Each story is a thread in the tapestry of this pirate crew, a group of individuals brought together by circumstance, choice, and necessity.
During the days, I'm kept busy with various tasks. One moment I'm swabbing the deck, the next I'm helping to repair a sail or assist in the galley. The work is grueling but it keeps my mind occupied, away from the thoughts of what lies ahead once we reach the island.
As the island nears, the culmination of my 25 days of preparation aboard the ship comes into play. My muscles have strengthened from the constant labor and exercise. I've become more agile, more attuned to the ship's rhythm, a necessary adaptation for survival and for the execution of my plan.
On the day we approach the island, the ship is buzzing with activity. The crew is preoccupied, their attention diverted. This is my chance. My heart pounds in my chest as I make my way stealthily to the edge of the ship. With a deep breath, I seize the moment and jump overboard, hitting the water with a silent splash.
For a moment, freedom feels within my grasp as I swim with all my might towards the island. But my hopes are dashed when I feel a strong grip on my arm. I'm pulled from the water with force, and I come face to face with the captain, a man with a bounty of 45 million berries on his head. His grip is iron-tight, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment.
Back on the ship, I'm subjected to a severe beating, each blow a reminder of the failed escape. The vice-captain stands over me, shaking his head. "Fool," he mutters. "You really thought you could escape? Now you've sealed your fate. You're going to be sold at the auction house, and you'll suffer till the end of your days."
His words cut deeper than any physical pain. Lying there, bruised and broken, the reality of my situation sinks in. The brief taste of freedom, now snatched away, leaves a bitter feeling in my soul. The vice-captain's scornful gaze is the last thing I see before darkness envelops me once again.
When I awake, I find myself in chains, the cold metal biting into my skin. The other crew members look at me with a mix of pity and disdain. My failed escape attempt has marked me, and any semblance of respect or camaraderie I might have earned is now gone.
As the ship docks at the island, I'm led off in chains, a defeated figure. The bustling port is a stark contrast to the grim future that awaits me. People go about their business, unaware of the fate of a captured pirate about to be sold into a life of despair.
As the ship docks at the island, I'm led off in chains, a defeated figure. The bustling port is a stark contrast to the grim future that awaits me. People go about their business, unaware of the fate of a captured pirate about to be sold into a life of despair.
As the captured pirate is brought to the auction house, the workers there immediately start examining him. They strip off his clothes to get a better look, revealing a distinct burn mark on his back. Amidst the scarred tissue, there are two white marks on either side of the burn, almost like symbols. The auction workers, puzzled by the unusual marks, discuss briefly among themselves but ultimately shrug it off as they find no immediate significance to it. They note that, apart from the scars, the pirate is in ideal physical condition — a fact that will likely increase his value.
In a cell within the auction house, the pirate sits, contemplating his fate. His thoughts are interrupted only by the sound of the key turning in the lock as the auction workers leave.
Meanwhile, the captain and the vice-captain of the pirate crew engage in a discussion with the owner of the slave auction house. The vice-captain takes the lead in the negotiations. His demeanor is confident, his words calculated. He's done this many times before — selling off crew members who are no longer of use, or captives like this one, to make a quick profit.
"The lad's strong, healthy, and has a certain... resilience about him. He survived a fight with the others; not an easy feat," the vice-captain says, emphasizing the pirate's strengths. "He's worth quite a bit."
The auction house owner examines the documents provided, his eyes flickering with interest. "Indeed, he seems like a valuable asset. But you understand, the market fluctuates. I can't offer you too high a price."
The captain, a man of few words, watches the exchange silently, his eyes sharp. The vice-captain continues to barter, throwing in tales of the pirate's resilience and potential.
Finally, after a lengthy negotiation, they settle on a price — 600,000 berries. The vice-captain smiles, pleased with the deal. It's a good sum for a slave, especially one who was just a burden a few days ago.
As they conclude the deal, the vice-captain's thoughts are already on how he'll spend his share of the profit. For him, the pirate was nothing more than a means to an end, a way to fill his pockets. The life and fate of the man he just sold are of little concern to him.
The captain nods in agreement with the deal, his mind already moving on to the next venture, the next opportunity for profit. In their world, people are commodities, and compassion is a luxury they can't afford.
As the days turned into weeks, I found myself in a monotonous yet grueling routine. The auction house workers ensured I was well-fed and hydrated, their intent clear — to keep me in prime condition to maximize my selling price. With nothing else to do and driven by a need to prepare for any opportunity to escape, I focused on physical training. Each day, I did as many pull-ups and push-ups as I could manage. Astoundingly, I was able to perform 400 pull-ups without breaking a sweat, a testament to the strength of my body in this world, far exceeding anything I could have achieved in my previous life. Despite this physical prowess, I felt a pang of sadness, realizing I hadn't seen my own reflection since my arrival in the One Piece world; I had no idea what I truly looked like now.
A month passed in this way, each day blurring into the next, marked only by the relentless regimen of eating, training, and waiting. Then, a significant change occurred. I was put in handcuffs, along with several other slaves, and we were all herded onto a ship. The group was a mix of strong individuals like myself and others who were strikingly beautiful — all valuable commodities in the eyes of our captors.
As the ship set sail, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. We were being transported to another location, most likely to be sold at an auction. The reality of my situation was stark; I was a prisoner, a piece of merchandise in transit. Despite my physical strength and my continuous training, the handcuffs and the confines of the ship's prison rendered me powerless.
Looking around at my fellow captives, I saw resignation and despair in their eyes. Some were silently weeping, others simply stared into the void, their spirits broken. It was a grim scene, each of us stripped of our freedom and dignity, bound for an uncertain and likely bleak future.
In the depths of the ship's prison, I kept turning over my options in my mind. I needed to escape, to regain my freedom. But how? Handcuffed and closely watched, my chances seemed slim. Yet, the fire of determination still burned within me. I couldn't — I wouldn't — resign myself to the fate of being sold as a slave.
As the days passed on the ship, I observed everything around me, searching for any weakness, any opportunity that might present itself. I knew that such chances would be rare and fleeting. I needed to be ready to act, to seize the moment when it came.
The thought of what lay ahead at the auction house fueled my resolve. I couldn't allow myself to be sold into a life of servitude, to be treated as less than human. No, I would find a way to break free from these chains, to escape from this ship. It was a daunting task, but I was determined to fight for my freedom, to reclaim my life in this strange and cruel world of One Piece.