"Row! Keep rowing, come on!" Zoro's fervent voice echoed across the tumultuous waters, a resounding plea as he exerted every ounce of strength to propel the small boat forward. Positioned on the left side, his sinewy muscles strained against the oars, while on the right side, I equally determined replicated the motion. The relentless waves crashed incessantly against our fragile vessel, an unyielding consequence of our rapid pace.
Zoro's urgent directive did not escape me, nor did it overshadow my own resolute efforts. "You don't need to remind me! I'm giving it my all!" My retort carried a mix of determination and exasperation, mirroring the heightened intensity of our predicament. With each stroke of the oar, I quickened my pace, my arms burning with the strain.
So, you're curious about what led us to this chaotic endeavor? Nothing particularly outlandish, honestly. It all traces back to the characteristic antics of our fearless captain. Inevitably, it's these very antics that have plunged us into the current turmoil. The genesis of this predicament can be traced to an innocent declaration from Luffy about his ravenous hunger. As if on cue, a bird materialized in the sky, tantalizingly close to our position.
"I'm gonna catch it!" Luffy's proclamation resounded like a battle cry, his outstretched arms reaching towards the avian prize. With an audacious burst of momentum, he flung himself towards the unsuspecting bird. At first glance, the bird seemed diminutive, almost inconsequential. But appearances, as they often are, were deceiving. In a swift and stunning display of its power, the bird's beak yawned open wide and ensnared Luffy's head, snatching him as it soared triumphantly into the sky.
"That idiot!" Zoro's thunderous voice reverberates across the surroundings, his face contorted with an unmistakable aura of fury. "What in the world do you think you're playing at!? Curse you!" His indomitable effort persists, each stroke of the oars resonating with his formidable strength, threatening to obliterate the very implements of rowing. Meanwhile, my contemplation takes an involuntary detour into the realm of self-reflection, prompted by the unfolding chaos.
"For the love of all that's sane, can that absolute buffoon not manage to remain stationary for even a solitary moment!" My vocal cords strain under the weight of exertion as I grapple with the oars, grappling back at the physical demands of guiding this vessel. "I can practically predict the course of our fate, and to be brutally candid, the prospect isn't remotely pleasing." The sequence of audacious exploits our enigmatic captain has managed to cram into a mere day's span undoubtedly points every rational observer to an identical conclusion.
"It's a Ship! Hey, wait!" Alas echoing cries erupts from our unified pursuit, the rhythm of our rowing synchronizing with the audible distress calls that reach our ears. Zoro and I pivot our gazes towards the source, simultaneous recognition dawning as we discern three troubled figures frantically beg salvation amid the relentless sways of the sea's surface. "Ahoy!" Their fervent appeals resonate through the air, a touching reminder of lives teetering on the brink.
"Huh!?" A stunned Zoro speaks, a disbelieving expression on his face as he witnesses the unexpected sight before him, "Shipwreck survivors? At a time like this? This is just the kind of situation we didn't need." Zoro can't help but voice his thoughts, his words carrying a tinge of frustration, as our already dire predicament takes an even darker turn. "We can't stop! Just grab on and climb in!" Zoro's voice rings out, offering the shipwrecked individuals their only lifeline.
"Huh? Did you hear what he said!?" One of the disheveled men questions, skepticism evident in his tone as he grapples with the notion that compassionate souls still exist amidst the harshness of their circumstances. With no alternative but to follow Zoro's instructions, each of them clings to the edges of the battered boat, their grip tested by the relentless waves that threaten to tear them away. Yet, with determination, they manage to overcome the elements and secure their place on board, their exhaustion palpable through the labored breaths they exhale.
"Remarkable! All three of you have successfully made it aboard. I confess, I had underestimated the resilience of the human spirit in the face of such adversity," I interject, unable to withhold my astonishment upon witnessing their pitiable condition. Their appearance suggests that they are on the brink of collapse, poised to succumb to the unforgiving power of the sea's currents.
Yet, as is often the case, appearances can be deceiving, as demonstrated by the individual positioned at the center. Gradually rising from their hunched posture, the figure addresses us with a mixture of weariness and defiance, "What manner of individuals are you?" With a deliberate motion, they retrieve a knife from their concealed pocket, brandishing it in our direction as a symbol of their desperation and determination. "Hehehe, it matters little. Bring this vessel to a halt immediately!" The ominous command emanates from their lips, echoed by the other two companions who unveil their own weapons. "Know this: we are members of the notorious crew led by Buggy the Clown, infamous pirates of the seas!"
.....
Amidst the brisk ocean breeze and the rhythmic lapping of waves against the battered vessel's hull, the distinct sound of laughter resonates through the salty air. The trio of men aboard the weather-worn ship bursts into a chorus of "hehehehhe!" Their laughter, a curious blend of amusement and unease, is accompanied by an appearance that mirrors the state of our vessel — beat up and tattered.
In an unexpected turn of events, the three men's voices intertwine, creating a harmonious yet somewhat forced chorus of apologies. "We're sorry mister pirate hunter Zoro, sir! We didn't realize who you were!!" The words spill forth from their lips with an undercurrent of nervousness, a trace of insincere smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.
But their apologies are not exclusive to the fearsome Zoro; they extend towards me as well. "And we are sorry to you too little missy," they address me with a blend of contrition and awe, their tone suddenly adopting an air of reverence usually reserved for royalty.
Zoro, seemingly unaffected by the unfolding drama, takes a moment to voice his frustration. His irritation is palpable as he addresses the trio, "You jokers made us lose our friend!!" His words, laden with exasperation, hang in the air like a reproachful gust of wind. Unperturbed, he issues a directive, his voice a command that leaves no room for debate. "Keep rowing, If there's any land nearby, he'll be there," he dictates, his authority solidified by his resolute stance.
As the scene continues to unravel, the delicate balance between gratitude and resentment becomes evident. I, too, take the opportunity to assert my perspective. Nestling into a position of ease, I remark, "We saved your lives and this is how you three repay us?" My words, though tinged with a hint of reproach, are delivered with the confidence of one who knows his worth. The act of rowing, once a taxing endeavor, has now been replaced with a newfound sense of reprieve.
Reflecting on the situation at hand, I offer a measured assessment of the trio's value, acknowledging both their limitations and potential. "We should have just kicked you out," I muse aloud, the notion of consequences dancing beneath my words. "But I guess you three could be useful, no matter how useless you three can be," I remark, a subtle admittance that even amidst their shortcomings, their presence carries a certain significance.
"You in the middle" I jeer, a sinister grin etched on my face, while my index finger extends itself with a dramatic flair, pinpointing the hapless soul in question. "Do enlighten us with the thrilling tale of how you managed to become a human sponge in the vast ocean." The syrupy richness of my sarcasm flows as if it were the most exquisite nectar, and yet, I find it utterly impossible to stem the tide of curiosity that surges within me.
It's almost as though he has spent an eternity rehearsing this precise moment, as he dramatically interrupts with an air of rehearsed grandeur, "Ah, I'll tell you how!! Thanks for reminding us!" His gratitude oozes forth like the sweetest of honeys, while the others, mere minions obedient to his performance, join the symphony of discontent, each weaving their own tale of woes and grievances. "It's all her fault, you know!" one bellows. Another, remarkably composed in the midst of the chaos, adds with an air of nonchalance, "Can't deny she was a real head-turner, though!"
Yet, I remain resolute, "Hold up, why are you two speaking? I don't remember crowning you the spokesperson? Keep rowing unless you're volunteering for a tongue-removal session," I retort, my threat instantly silencing them. Fear creeps in, a taste of their own medicine.
"We had just finished raiding a merchant ship" The individual at the center of the group took a deep breath and began to weave a narrative that recounted the sequence of events leading up to their current predicament.
The tale unfolded with the serendipitous encounter of a distraught woman adrift at sea. "Compassion" stirred within their hearts, compelling them to offer "assistance" to the damsel in distress. However, altruism was not their sole motivation, as they cleverly devised a plan to secure a fair compensation for their impending aid.
Before extending their benevolent hand, they fixated their gaze upon a chest laden with the promise of gleaming riches. Negotiations ensued, the terms of which included the chest's contents as just compensation for their rescue efforts. With their agreement established, they prepared to embark on their daring quest to retrieve the coveted chest.
To their profound dismay, the chest that once held the allure of wealth turned out to be devoid of its anticipated treasure. As if adding salt to their wounds, the enigmatic woman, now revealed as a cunning opportunist, utilized their temporary absence to abscond with their very means of escape – their own vessel laden with genuine gold.
As if choreographed by fate, the elements conspired against them, conjuring a tempestuous storm that raged with a vengeance. Abandoned and isolated amidst the merciless tempest, they grappled with the cruel realization that their initial act of "kindness" had been leveraged against them. The woman's cunning exploitation of the inclement weather had left them stranded, facing the wrath of the unforgiving elements.
...
"I find myself rather unconvinced by the inclusion of unnecessary elements that hadn't originally existed within the fabric of that narrative," I remark, my voice tinged with skepticism, not fully embracing the fantastical story they've woven. "Honestly, it's a bit difficult to fathom that any rational individual would lend credence to such preposterous notions. The notion of you three assisting a damsel in distress seems like a stretch," I add, my tone reflecting my disbelief, as the entire tale appears quite implausible to me.
Amidst this discourse, Zoro, however, displays a noticeable fascination with the unfolding narrative, his words exuding genuine intrigue and admiration. "Amazing, so she used the weather to her own advantage, she must really know the seas," he opines, his voice laden with a blend of awe and respect. "She'd make a great navigator," he concludes thoughtfully.
In contrast, the individual positioned to the right of Zoro interjects with a more macabre perspective. "We think she'll make a great corpse," he interjects, his statement echoing an unsettling sentiment. Prompted by this declaration, the remaining members of the group are spurred into vocalizing their own concerns, each voice contributing to the collective apprehension. "What'll we do about the treasure we lost?" one inquires, his gaze shifting towards his comrades. The other swiftly follows suit, his worry palpable in his tone. "If we return empty-handed Buggy will be furious!!" he laments.
Observing this exchange, Zoro's intrigue continues unabated, prompting him to venture his own query into the conversation. "Whose this Buggy guy anyways?" he inquires, his voice tinged with an unmistakable curiosity about this enigmatic character.
At this juncture, the individual situated in the center of the group responds, his response immediate and animated. "Only the most furious pirate in these parts! Haven't you heard of Buggy the clown? He ate a devil fruit" he expounds with a fervor that conveys the significance of this notorious persona.