“Ooh, that’s a pretty gun you have there,” said a voice in the midst of battle. “Made in the North Blue, I assume? That’s a rare piece. I like the skull symbol.”
The man peered with great interest at the gun that was pointed at none other than himself. He had a very peculiar presentation, with so many skull accessories that it seemed almost as though he was trying too hard to pass himself off as a pirate.
This man was our crewmate, and wouldn’t you guess it, he went by the name of Skull.
“I like your style. You got nothin’ but style,” he said to the bounty hunter pointing the gun in question. The hunter seemed a bit confused by this kind of attention.
“The problem is, this gun went outta production real quick. You wanna know why?” Skull grabbed the gun. “Because when you do this, it jams.”
“Huh? What the…?”
The trigger of the gun clicked to no effect, other than the bounty hunter’s sudden panic. It wasn’t shooting.
“And that’s why I gotta compliment you on your style, man.”
The bounty hunter’s face went pale, just before Skull’s fist connected with it.
“Heh heh. This really is a rare piece. Gonna hang it up in my cabin,” Skull raved, gazing greedily at the gun left in his hand.
Like Mihal, he wasn’t your typical sailor. Skull considered himself a collector, and his category of choice was pirate goods. He collected items with skulls—in other words, he wasn’t even a pirate himself.
He just loved pirates so much that he would sneak onto any manner of pirate ship, then work as a swabbie until they reached the next port and let him off. Only someone more than a little crazy would lead a life like that.
Many pirates took one look at Skull and appraised him as nothing more than an eccentric, good for little more than deckhand work, but Ace saw him differently. Ace relied on his vast experience as someone who’d sailed around the world on many different ships. Skull was valuable as a source of information about the seas.
After meeting Ace, he’d gone from being Skull the collector to Skull the info agent.
For his part, Skull was deeply grateful to Ace for seeing such potential in him, and joined the Spade Pirates vowing to become the world’s greatest dealer of information. According to him, however, he was only an info dealer, still not a pirate.
“Your collecting methods really freak me out,” I said to Skull, who was rapturously examining his new loot. “Don’t forget, we’re still in battle.”
“Hey, Master Deu!” Skull said, looking up. I couldn’t actually see his face, because it was hidden behind a skull mask. As an agent of information, he considered his own features to be part of an inventory of valuable details he could sell. I could relate to that. We had arrived at essentially the same place through different logical paths.
Incidentally, though he considered his face to be premium information that came at a price, no one had ever paid him for those goods. Given that he was happy to boast about his looks when newcomers joined the crew, I had the feeling that he actually wanted to take the mask off, but had waited too long, and now it would only be awkward.
Skull, Mihal, and I were considered the brain trust of the Spade Pirates. We were the intellectuals. The crew tended to attract combat types, as personified by Ace. So because of our roles among the crew, I ended up talking to the other two more than anyone else.
“What can I say? It’s a rare gun. Besides, the fight’s almost over,” Skull said, jutting his chin out to indicate the center of the ship deck.
Flame Commandment—Ace created a swirling vortex of fire around him that left the remaining enemies in a shambles.
The next thing I knew, the shouting had stopped. The only sound left was the groaning of the bounty hunters who had boarded our ship.
They didn’t last very long for how many of them there were, I thought.
There was a major difference in capabilities between me, dealing with just a few of the hunters in the corner, and the combat team with Ace in the middle of the deck, who swept up all the rest in one go.
“Well, looks like they’re all mopped up,” Ace noted, glancing around at the fallen bounty hunters. “Listen up! Pick up your buddies who went down and get off this ship!”
The few who were still able to stand were stunned by the force of his statement. Next to Ace, an enormous feline growled menacingly.
This creature was another member of the crew: Kotatsu. It got its name from Ace.
Kotatsu was a giant lynx. It was a rare subspecies, apparently, but I didn’t know the full details. Ace found it caught in a poacher’s trap on an island and freed it, and Kotatsu felt so grateful that it followed him back to the ship.
When we met it, the lynx’s personality was subdued and cowardly, but in the course of our travels, it was returning to its natural boldness.
So whether it was Mihal, or Skull, or Kotatsu—or me, of course—the Spade Pirates were full of those who felt like they’d finally found their place in the world after meeting Ace.
Ganryu of the long-arm tribe and Wallace the fish-man also had nowhere else to go. Ace didn’t judge people based on their race or their appearance. He judged them by something more important: their heart, their nature. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.
For this, Ace was admired not just by many outlaws, but even by those who were too extreme to be outlaws.
As for the outlaws who preferred to set their sights on him rather than their hearts, they were all rushing to be the first to jump ship as soon as they heard Kotatsu’s low, menacing growl. Those who had been knocked down were either picked up by their comrades, or came to and were promptly chased off the ship by the big cat.
“Grrrr…meowww!”
“Why does it sound so cute?!” screamed the last bounty hunter as he fell into the sea. It was true that despite its appearance, Kotatsu’s normal, non-growling voice was rather high-pitched and tame when it was on the ship. Maybe it was because Ace had the Flame-Flame Fruit, and thus it was always warm around him. In any case, Kotatsu always behaved itself around the captain.
With the pillagers gone, the ship deck suddenly felt expansive and empty, and Kotatsu plopped down on the planks and began to rub its back against the wood, exposing its belly. It really was just a gigantic house cat.
The bounty hunters’ ship beside us pulled away, and it was as quiet as if the recent melee had never happened. The ship felt lifeless and empty in the absence of all that action. It was like the aftermath of a festival. Ace must have felt the same way.
“All right, folks, let’s have a partyyyy!” he cried. The crew rolled out barrels of ale and heaping dishes of meat, and suddenly the formerly plain deck of the ship became much more welcoming. With food and drink in hand, the crew sang and shouted and enjoyed themselves to their hearts’ content.
No breeze was blowing, and the sea was calm. But on the Grand Line, there was no need for a weather forecast. It could be pleasant now, and the very next moment could bring a torrential storm. That’s just the kind of sea it is.