"…May I ask a question?" I said with a downcast expression while looking at my food plate, to the chef who just distributed me the meal.
"What is it?"
I pointed at one section of my plate where there lied three slices of melon, "Do we have an endless supply of melons? I see it in every single meal."
The chef shrugged, "What can I do? Melons are Commodore Barthur's favourite."
Then came a momentary silence, before the two of us burst out the laughters at the same time.
"Hahaha, nice one there! I can definitely see why he would love them," I said while wigging my eyebrows.
"Heh, we can't deny the truth, can we," Chef said while dumping more melons on my plate, "Here, have some more."
I stared at the increased pile of sliced melons, crying on the inside.
'I'm freaking sick of melon!!!'
Yes yes, I am a picky eater, whatever you say.
__________
Having finished my meal, I walked up to the deck to gaze at the stars, having managed to finish my work quick.
This world lacked entertainment, I had to admit. No games, no games, and no games! Oh, and no wifi too. My hands were itching hard to play those juicy games, which... technically didn't exist here; it was one of the downfalls this world had.
But the lack of them also made me healthy. Looking at the stars, and peacefully reflecting upon my days, surely did help to calm myself down and prepare myself for the next day. I believed that this night was going to be the same as any other, until... I saw HIna with three adults, who were smoking cheap cigarettes on one side of the deck.
"Sir, if you mind not telling, why do you smoke?" Hina seemed to be asking with genuine curiosity, "I saw my grandfather smoking as well, but never got to ask. Does it taste good?"
The three marines looked at each other, before grinning as they turned back at Hina.
"Well, it does wonders," One of them spoke up, before asking, "How old are you, girl?"
"I am 10, sir."
"10... eh, old enough," Another one shrugged, before taking out another cigarette, "wanna try? This is how we grew up when we were around your age—"
And before I knew, I was right in front of that marine. Grabbing the cigarette, I ripped them into two, causing the owner of cigarette to cry out,
"Ah-ahhhhh!!! What do you think you are doing?!!"
"Cigarettes are bad for your body! They contain strong carcinogens that may induce the development of cancers in your body, and I tell you, exposure to them during the stage of development, is especially fatal!!" I began to sprout out without thinking, "And do you know that second-hand smoke is even more carcinogenic than first-hand smoke?! Why the hell are you smoking in front of a 10-year-old girl?! Are you men-children insane?! If you're going to smoke, uh..."
I then stopped, having regained my sense of rationality. In front of me now stood three marines who were visibly displeased.
"Smoking is bad for health?" Hina muttered behind me, going into a deep thought. But I didn't have any time to respond.
"Hey kid, your name is Smoker if I recall, right? Freaking 'Smoker' discourages smoking... what even is this?" One of the three then growled.
"And I know that your 12... meh, old enough." Another said while cracking his neck, as if getting ready for a brawl.
The three of them closed in on me, and their faces were filled with unpleasant smiles. But I felt no fear.
'Are they going to attack me?'
Honestly speaking, I already was exposed to some degree of fighting. The three muscle jokies back in Logue Town, had larger bodies than these three. Additionally, two weeks of stay on this ship helped me learn that most marines here had notably weaker physiques than Bastille and I did.
So why would I be afraid of them? Rational or not, I still would've discouraged Hina from smoking; she was my friend, after all.
"Just three hits. One from each of us. Then we'll let you go." One of the three stated, before throwing his punch at me.
And I grabbed it with my drastically smaller-sized hand.
"...Huh?"
"Smoking makes you weak," I said casually, "So don't ever think of smoking, Hina."
"Hina wasn't aware. Hina will tell this to grandfather as well."
Then, I jumped at the man who just attempted to punch me, before slamming my fist down at his nose.
The blood sprayed out from the man's nostrils. He let out a horrific scream, before falling down on the deck with a thud, having fainted from one punch.
"W-what?" The other marine looked at his fallen colleague with shock, before looking back at me, "What are you..."
"Don't you dare look down on us because we currently are given the title of chore boys," Taking a step forward while shaking my right hand to flick away the blood, I snarled at the remaining two, "While you three wasted time smoking at our age, we currently are training and training more, in order to become far stronger than what you will ever be capable of."
The two marines unconsciously took a step back, intimidated by me.
Turning around, I motioned Hina to follow. Then I said for the final time,
"If I see you smoking in front of us ever again—" I was going to make an awesome threat to them, however, sighted Barthur, who was coming up to the deck, drunk,
"RUN!!!"
Hina and I immediately ran out of the scene, in order to avoid trouble. I mean, there is no way those three will spread the news of how they got scared like pussies by one kid, right?
__________
Simply put, no, they didn't report. Thank goodness.
The night passed, and yet another day of doing an endless amount of chores has begun. At this point, I believed that the three of us successfully earned Barthur's hate; we wore working 15 hours everyday, with no pay whatsoever!
"Is this really how it's supposed to be?" Even Bastille, who seemed to be a nice guy, had his expression darkened; yes, I knew that his expression was darkened although it was hidden behind the mask. How? Don't ask.
"Maybe he found out," Hina said while using the broom to get the specks of dust off the corners.
"Found what?" Bastille asked.
"...That I obliterated his son to a bloody pulp," Sighing, I answer honestly, "I mean, I practically used him as a punching bag for the final month."
"You really were a problem kid, huh, Smoker," Bastille commented, to which I simply shrugged.
'But...'
Raising my head up to see the blue sky outside through the small window, I didn't find my current life all so bad. Although the sail in the Grand Line is harsh, with many experienced marines on board, we were progressing smoothly. Along with my colleagues, whom I have gotten close to, I believed that I finally managed to adjust my mindset to correlate with the logic of this world.
Barthur was unlikable. I mean, all he did everyday was play with some young women. But hey, it wasn't like I was going to see him much once I arrive at the Marineford, right? There was no need to be so angry about it, and simply endure these chores for some more time.
And just like that, I became lax. My sense of alertness, all thoughts that I had prior to the entry into the Reverse Mountain, of how Barthur's upcoming death may be connected with this ship's fate, were forgotten.
Adapting to the 15 hours of chores on a daily basis, adapting to this environment filled with the weak ones, working extensively without any thought in my mind, and destressing by making meaningless conversations with Hina and Bastille. Before I knew, I've become dull.
And perhaps, this was the reason why we became so susceptible to—
"ENEMIES!! PIRATES SIGHTED!! ALL MARINES, GET READY TO ENGAGE!!!"
—the sudden attack by the pirates.