[AN] Haven't posted in a bit but here is 3 more chapters, Enjoy.
"Bip… bip… bip…"The steady pulse of the heart monitor cut through the silence, each beep a hollow echo in the sterile room. Charlie blinked, adjusting to the harsh whites and muted grays. The scent of antiseptic filled the air, thick and relentless.
He hated hospital rooms.
His gaze fell on the leg, bound tightly in plaster and suspended immobile. The words he'd overheard earlier replayed in his mind. "They really did a number on the poor kid. The damage to his leg is… severe. He'll never walk on it again."
A knot twisted in his chest, guilt surging with it. He'd thought he could fix things, that stepping in would solve the problem. He'd even felt proud, certain he'd done right. But all he'd done was make things worse. His arrogance, his naivety—it had cost more than he'd imagined.
A soft knock at the door broke his spiraling thoughts. He looked up as a figure entered, silhouetted by the harsh fluorescent light. When the door clicked shut, he recognized her. Sarah, his adoptive mother, her familiar green eyes reflecting back a depth of understanding that cut through his defenses.
Without a word, she pulled up a chair, the scrape of metal against linoleum filling the silence as she sat down beside him. Her hand reached for his, a warm touch in the sterile, cold room.
"Charlie," she began, her voice soft yet firm, "I want you to listen to me carefully. What happened to your classmate, to Liam, it's not your fault."
He opened his mouth to argue, but the guilt rose like bile in his throat, choking the words. She tightened her hold, silencing him.
"No, listen," she continued, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You did everything you could to protect him."
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight. "Mom, I… I'm so sorry. I thought I could handle it, that I could make things right. But I just made everything worse." His voice cracked, the weight of his guilt threatening to crush him.
He'd thought that standing up to those bullies and getting them all expelled for what they where doing to Liam would be enough. He even felt proud.
Sarah's grip tightened on Charlie's hand as she leaned in closer, her gaze unwavering. "Charlie, listen to me. You stood up for what was right. You saw someone in need and you acted with courage and compassion. That is never the wrong choice."
Charlie's shoulders sagged. "But look at him, Mom," he whispered, voice raw. "He may never walk again. How can that be the right choice?"
She leaned forward, her free hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, a gesture she had done countless times throughout his childhood. "The world can be a cruel place, and people can do terrible things. But that doesn't mean we stop trying, to stand up for what we think is right."
Charlie's vision blurred with tears, his chest aching with a mix of sorrow and gratitude. "But what if I can't? What if I'm not strong enough?"
Sarah's grip on his hand tightened, her voice filled with a fierce determination. "You are strong, Charlie. Stronger than you know."
Charlie gazed into his mother's eyes, seeing the unwavering love and faith she had in him reflecting back. Her words washed over him, like a soothing balm to his battered soul. Slowly, he turned his head towards the window, his eyes catching his own reflection in the glass.
As he stared at his image, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. The face that looked back at him was younger, the lines of worry and stress that had etched themselves into his features were gone, replaced by the soft, round cheeks of youth.
Realization dawned on him then. This wasn't his current reality, but a vivid memory, a dream of a time long past.
He turned to his mother, his eyes shimmering with a mix of sorrow and gratitude. Without a second thought, he leaned forward, and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. It was a simple gesture, but one filled with so much meaning.
As he breathed in the familiar scent of her lavender perfume, Charlie realized with a pang that he couldn't remember the last time he had hugged his mother like this. In the chaos of growing up, of trying to navigate the treacherous waters of adulthood and find his place in the world, he had somehow forgotten the simple comfort of a mother's embrace.
"Thank you, Mom," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't realize how much I needed to hear those words until now."
Sarah's arms tightened around him, one hand coming up to stroke his hair with a tenderness that only a mother could possess.
"Oh, my sweet boy," she whispered.
———
With a groan, Charlie reluctantly opened his eyes, dreading the sight that would greet him. He blinked away the blur and was met with harsh light that only intensified the pain in his battered body. His gaze fell on the window.
This time his face was the right one. His once bright green eyes were bloodshot, a painful reminder of the brutal beating he had endured.
As he tried to move, every inch of his body protested, especially his left shoulder and his right knee, reminding him of how close he came to losing it all.
Everything had been going so well.
Too well.
Lying there, Charlie's mind began to drift back to his previous encounters. He recalled the adrenaline rush of each fight, the thrill of outsmarting his opponents, and the fleeting sense of invincibility that came with easy victories. He had prided himself on his ability to turn the tide in his favor, relying on tricks and surprise tactics.
But now, he couldn't ignore the unsettling truth: those victories had come from a lack of preparation on his enemies' parts. He had capitalized on their underestimation, their lack of awareness. Each win had been a dance of deception, not a testament to raw skill.
He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of his decisions press down on him. What good are tricks if I can't back them up with real strength? he thought bitterly. He needed to find a way to build himself up from the ground again.
In that moment of contemplation, Charlie caught sight of a figure in the corner of the room through the window's reflection. An old man with a scraggly beard was peeling apples, his movements seemed slow and deliberate. The sight seemed harmless, a quaint image of an elderly man absorbed in a simple task.
Just then, a familiar notification sounded in his mind, cutting through the haze of his thoughts.
[Smoker has accepted the invitation to The System.]
[You have received a bonus reward for successfully choosing a player with high potential.]
[Healing Elixir: Restores user to full health.]
[Smoker - A Class]
[Abilities: Smoke-Smoke Fruit, Haki(Locked)]
Charlie's heart raced at the information.
What's with this new reward and classification? he asked Oracle, curiosity piquing his interest.
[Each player is ranked based on their potential to influence the world. The higher the ranking, the greater their ability to affect change within the System and the tasks you can complete together. Your training task completion rating will increase with the number and strength of your Players.]
What's the ranking system like? Charlie inquired, wanting to understand how it all worked.
[The ranking system goes from F to SS, based on the potential influence of each Player]
F Class: Minimal; unlikely to have a meaningful impact on the world.
D Class: Below average; may contribute but requires support.
C Class: Average; capable of making some impact.
B Class: Good; solid abilities that can influence their surroundings.
A Class: High; significant influence on their environment and others.
S Class: Exceptional; can effect major changes and inspire others.
SS Class: Legendary; extraordinary capacity to shape the world and alter its course."
Charlie's mind raced as he processed the information. An A Class player right from the start? Smoker was truly impressive, and Charlie felt validated in choosing him.
With renewed determination, Charlie forced himself to sit up, ignoring the screaming protests from his aching body. He had to focus on his next steps, on rebuilding himself, and he still had a tournament to catch. But, just as Charlie swung his legs preparing to stand, the man spoke up in a gravelly voice.
"I wouldn't be in such a hurry if I were you lad. Those wounds of yours need proper time to heal."
Charlie froze, his gaze snapping to the old man, appraisal already activated. The seemingly harmless figure now carried an air of authority that sent a chill down Charlie's spine.
Name: Garin "Hook" Fost
Bounty: 655,000,000 Beli
Threat Level: Unknown
His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the old man, the unexpected information from the appraisal sending his mind reeling. He had barely even noticed his presence before, but now, as their eyes locked, a shiver ran down his spine.
A bounty of 655 million Beli? And an unknown threat level? This unassuming figure was clearly more than he appeared, and it was only because of Quick Appraisal's mechanics that he even knew this. Besides the name, the next two parameters were completely arbitrary, and relying on luck was not something he enjoyed doing.
Not again.
He realized he was making the same mistake he had with Tom. Dismissing those who seemed harmless or insignificant had almost cost him dearly. Ignoring the little details had led him into dangerous situations, and he couldn't afford to repeat that error.
This was a turning point for him. If he continued down this path of underestimating others based on superficial impressions, it would lead to his downfall. He needed to be more cautious, more observant.
This time, I have to pay attention.
Charlie took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. The stakes were too high; he was really going to die if he kept ignoring the signs. Garin wasn't just a simple old man so he started imagining countless scenarios of what this powerful figure would say or ask him. Would he berate him for being reckless? Question his actions?
[Appraisal Complete]
Name: Garin "Hook" Fost
Status: Calm
Affiliations: The Revolutionary Army
Rank: Chief of Staff
Health: Stable
Strength: Unknown
Weapons: Chiryu (Earthly Dragon), Black Claw
Bounty: 655,000,000 Beli
Crimes: Desertion, High Treason, Assassination, Conspiracy against the World Government
Skills:
Weapon Master
Haki Master
Rokushiki Master
Cunning Strategist
Negotiation
Notes: Once a feared Marine Vice-Admiral, Garin defected after a personal tragedy. Now, as Chief of Staff for the Revolutionary Army, Garin uses his connections to underground movements and rebel factions to further the Revolution's cause. He is also secretly seeking the cure for the disease that Gol D. Roger suffered from before his execution.
Charlie froze at the results.
Garin had continued slicing the apples with his hook, each movement fluid and precise. Charlie found himself momentarily captivated, noticing how the old man seemed at ease, as if the chaos of the world outside held no sway over him. It was a juxtaposition that struck Charlie: a former Vice-Admiral finding solace in a simple task, while he wrestled with the uncertainty of his own path.
But after a long moment, Garin simply looked up from his apples and, with a kind smile, asked, "So tell me, lad, what brings you here?"
His voice was warm and compassionate, carrying a tone that caught Charlie completely off guard. Of all the things Garin could've said, this was the last thing he had expected.
Charlie's first instinct was to be defensive. After all, he had plenty of reasons for why he had done what he did. But before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out.
"I don't know."
The answer surprised even him, catching himself off guard. In that moment, the weight of uncertainty unnerved him. Deep down, he was aware of the many things he wanted and needed to do—goals that seemed to slip further away with each passing moment. Yet here he was, confronted by a figure with a history that far exceeded his own, and all he could muster was a vague response.
What was he really doing? Was he just running from one chaotic situation to another, hoping to piece together a plan as he went? The truth gnawed at him: he was being reckless, taking risks without a clear direction.
He had thought he could handle everything alone, but now he was beginning to realize how little he understood about the world he had stepped into.
With Garin's kind eyes watching him, Charlie felt vulnerable, stripped of the bravado he often wore like armor. He knew he had to confront this uncertainty, to face it head-on rather than letting it fester in the shadows of his mind.
Garin took another apple in his hand, his hook gently slicing through it before he looked back at Charlie, his eyes filled with understanding.
"Well now, lad," he said, his tone warm and gentle, "not knowing isn't the worst place to be. It just means you've got room to figure things out, doesn't it?"
His words were casual, even light, but they carried a weight that lingered in the air, causing Charlie to reflect on them deeper than he expected.
His mind raced as he considered Garin's words. Room to figure things out... It was a perspective he hadn't considered before, so used to feeling like he needed to have all the answers immediately. The idea that uncertainty could be an opportunity rather than a weakness was foreign to him.
He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his injuries aching with the movement. "I suppose you're right," he admitted slowly. "I've been so focused on trying to stay ahead, to gain power and skills, that I haven't really stopped to think about the reason."
Garin nodded sagely, setting aside the apple he had been slicing. "Power for power's sake is a dangerous path, lad," he said, his voice quiet but carrying a weight that made Charlie listen. "Without purpose, it'll consume you before you even know what's happening."
He paused, his eyes drifting to the window, as if he were looking far beyond the room they were in, lost in a distant memory.
"I once knew a young man," Garin began, his tone softer, more introspective. "Full of ambition. Hungry for strength and recognition. He thought that if he climbed the ranks, if he could gather enough power, everything else would fall into place."
Charlie stayed silent, sensing that this was more than just a story.
"He was clever," Garin continued. "Cunning, even. He could outsmart his enemies, turn the tide in his favor, just like you've been doing." Garin glanced at Charlie, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But he never asked himself why he was doing it. Never stopped to question what it was all for."
Charlie felt a flicker of discomfort but didn't interrupt.
"In his climb, he gained respect—fear, even. But the higher he went, the further he drifted from what mattered. He lost sight of the things he once valued, thinking they could be replaced with power. By the time he realized what was happening... it was too late."
Charlie frowned, a knot tightening in his chest. "What happened to him?" he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.
Garin exhaled slowly, his eyes hardening, the weight of years reflected in them. "He lost everything that really mattered. His family. His sense of purpose. His humanity, even. And in the end, all that power couldn't bring back what he had lost."
He didn't say it, but Charlie could hear the unspoken truth in Garin's words: That man was me.
There was no need for Garin to admit it outright. The story, the regret in his voice,and the Notes from Appraisal made it clear enough. It was a warning, one Garin had learned the hard way.
Charlie looked down, his thoughts swirling. The parallels were obvious. The hunger for power, the disregard for purpose—it was too close to his own path, too close to where he could end up if he wasn't careful.
Garin's voice cut through his thoughts, gentle but firm. "I don't want to see another young soul make the same mistakes."
Charlie swallowed hard, the gravity of Garin's confession settling heavily on his shoulders. He instinctively clenched his fists, feeling the urge to push back against the truth but knowing it was futile. Could he end up like Garin? The thought sent a chill through him, a stark reminder of the path he was on.
"What should I do?" Charlie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Garin's expression softened, revealing a glimmer of compassion. "Don't rush into battles, lad. Find your purpose first, or you'll end up lost like I did."
———
"Release me, you bastards!" Pearl bellowed, his voice raw with anger. "If you don't let me out, you'll have Don Krieg and his entire armada on your heads!"
Tom groaned, shifting his weight. His knee throbbed, a sharp reminder of the events that had landed him in this cell. He glanced down at the crude bandages wrapped around his leg, barely holding together the mess that was once his kneecap. Whoever had patched him up hadn't done it out of kindness. He wasn't sure what disturbed him more—the injury or the fact that someone had brought him wherever here was after that last shot had brought him down.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and that's when he saw them—three figures sitting around a small, worn table just outside the cells, playing cards under the weak glow of a flickering lantern. They didn't seem to care at all about Pearl's outburst. In fact, they looked more entertained by their game than concerned by the threats.
"You'll regret it," Pearl continued, rattling the bars of his cell. "You hear me? Don Krieg will make sure none of you—"
Tom eyed the figures warily. One of them—an old man with grey hair and worn clothes—looked like nothing more than a common guard. Tom couldn't place him, and the dim light made it hard to see his features clearly. The other two sat casually at the table, one of them a young woman, the other a man, Tom vaguely recognized as someone his syndicate had done some business with—someone who'd bought weapons from them on a regular basis. Rumors suggested he had ties to the Revolutionary Army, though no one had ever confirmed it.
But, if someone like him was sitting here, casually playing cards like a mere prison guard... Tom's stomach twisted. Whoever was behind their capture had to be someone far more powerful than he had originally thought.
The door at the top of the stairs creaked open, drawing his attention. Another figure stepped through, casting a long shadow as they made their way down the stairwell. Pearl, catching the movement, immediately started shouting again, louder this time.
"Let us out! You'll regret this when Krieg finds you, you cowards!"
The figure descending the stairs didn't react to Pearl's outburst. When the man spoke, his voice was warm and jolly, completely at odds with the tension in the air.
"How's the game going on, lads?" he asked, his accent adding a playful lilt to his words, though there was a hint of mischief lurking beneath the surface.
The old man's voice didn't trigger anything for Tom—just another unknown figure. He squinted through the shadows but couldn't see much beyond the man's outline.
The young girl looked up from the table. "Fine, Garin. Just fine."
"Garin..." Tom muttered under his breath. The name stirred something in his memory, but with the dim light and the distance, he couldn't connect the dots.
Pearl banged on the bars of his cell, undeterred by the presence of the old man. "Are you deaf? I said you'll regret this!"
Garin didn't so much as flinch, continuing down the stairs, his steps unhurried. He reached the bottom and approached the card table, his demeanor exuding an easy confidence. The flickering light finally illuminated his face—and Tom's breath caught in his throat.
The old man's face, combined with the name and the gleaming hook where his right hand should've been, sent chills down Tom's spine.
Garin "Hook" Fost.
Tom's blood ran cold. This wasn't just any old man. This was the Garin Fost, a marine traitor with a bounty of 655 million berries. One of the most dangerous men alive—at least, he had been twenty years ago.
"Well now, lads, seems we've got ourselves a bit of a pickle," Garin said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Looks like the great Pearl is in a spot of trouble. But I reckon you might be barking up the wrong tree here."
Pearl scowled, anger flaring. "What do you want, you old fart? You think you can waltz in here and take control?"
"Oh, I don't want much, really." Garin leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Just to make use of you, my dear Pearl. You see, word is that Don Krieg is preparing quite the haul for his grand expedition. Supplies that would do wonders for my associates. And you, my friend, are just the bait I need to reel him in."
Pearl's eyes widened, confusion and fury clashing on his face. "You're using me as bait? You think Krieg will just come running because I'm in trouble?"
Garin chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, he won't be able to resist, lad. You know how he is—pride and all that. And with you here, well, it just might draw him out. I do enjoy a good game of cat and mouse."
The atmosphere shifted, the air thick with tension as Tom processed Garin's intentions. If Krieg fell for Garin's trap, it could spell disaster for them all.
———
Charlie shifted slightly in bed, the pain in his body serving as a constant reminder of the beating he'd endured. He winced but managed to sit up, his curiosity piqued as Garin finally spoke.
"We got good information from Pearl," Garin began, his voice steady, but with a certain sharpness to it. "Turns out we know the area where Don Krieg's armada is hidden. They've been lying low, waiting for his return with information about the last transport—the same one that mysteriously vanished."
Charlie felt a flicker of satisfaction at the mention of the disappearing ship. He kept his face neutral, waiting for Garin to continue.
"Pearl was in Loguetown to figure out what happened to the transport. He said it was sabotaged, and the ship vanished without a trace. Even better, we made Pearl take a Den-Den Mushi call to Krieg. He told him he found the culprit."
Charlie's stomach dropped slightly at that. He knew exactly who Pearl was talking about, but Garin and his people clearly didn't realize it yet. He masked his surprise, playing it cool. "Culprit, huh?" he muttered.
Garin didn't seem to notice Charlie's subtle tension. "We forced Pearl to lie to Krieg. We needed to lower his guard, keep him from sending someone to pick Pearl up, or worse, leave without him. This way, Krieg will wait, thinking everything's under control. It maximizes the chance that they'll all stay there."
"And that's when you'll move in?" Charlie asked, intrigued.
Garin gave a slight nod. "Exactly. With Krieg's guard down, we'll take them all at once. His entire armada and—more importantly—all the supplies he's gathered for his Grand Line expedition."
Charlie narrowed his eyes. A quest had already appeared in his mind, one with a reward too good to pass up. His heart raced at the thought of it. The System always seemed to know when there was an opportunity—and this one was no different. "What if I join you?" he asked, leaning forward slightly, ignoring the pain in his ribs.
Garin raised an eyebrow, his tone immediately skeptical. "You're in no condition to fight, lad. You can barely sit up. This isn't your battle anymore."
Charlie, anticipating this response, quickly countered. "I'll be fine." He smirked. "I've got something that will heal me up in no time."
Garin crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Even if you're healed, it's still not something you should get involved in, lad. I only came to tell you because I thought you deserved to know what's happening."
Charlie wasn't going to let it end there. His heart raced as he looked Garin straight in the eye. A new idea had just came to his mind. "You should be thanking me," Charlie muttered, the words escaping his mouth before he had time to reconsider. His heart raced, but he kept his gaze steady on Garin. "The only reason Pearl's even here is because they were looking for me."
Garin's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "What are you talking about?"
Charlie hesitated, his mind racing. Should he say it? Was it too soon to reveal his role in sabotaging Krieg's pirates? But then he realized—there was no point in hiding it any longer. Garin would find out sooner or later, and it might as well be from him.
With a deep breath, Charlie met Garin's gaze. "I've been sabotaging Don Krieg's pirates since Port Town. That missing transport? I'm the one who made it disappear."
Garin's skepticism deepened. "If that's true, where's the ship now?"
Charlie couldn't help but grin. Without another word, he pulled out a fancy bottle from his inventory, the liquid inside shimmering like molten gold. He raised it to his lips, downed the elixir in one swift motion, and wiped his mouth. As he lowered the bottle, it vanished back into his storage.
"I've got a storage ability," Charlie explained. "I can keep things inside. That ship? It's in there."
Garin stared at Charlie, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "You're telling me you have an entire ship stored away? Just like that?"
Charlie nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Just like that."
Garin leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied Charlie. The room fell silent for a long moment, the only sound the creaking of the old floorboards beneath them. Finally, Garin spoke, his voice low and measured.
"If what you're saying is true, lad, then maybe you've been more involved in this than I thought. But that doesn't mean you're ready for what's ahead."
Charlie opened his mouth to protest, but Garin raised a hand, silencing him. "This isn't some small skirmish, lad. It's an operation. One slip-up could bring down the whole thing."
Charlie's determination flared. "Give me a couple of hours," he insisted, his voice steady. "I'll be ready."
Garin's expression shifted slightly, his brows furrowing as if he were weighing Charlie's words carefully. "It looks like you've completely forgotten what we were discussing earlier," Garin said, his voice calm but with a tinge of frustration. "This is reckless of you. You're disregarding everything—this is a serious operation, and you're jumping in, like it's some game."
Charlie, feeling the sting of Garin's words, quickly shook his head. "I'm not forgetting, and I'm not being reckless. I know what's at stake. But this time is different."
"Different?" Garin raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
Charlie leaned forward, wincing slightly as the pain in his ribs flared up again. "The difference is that I'm not going alone this time. You're coming with me."
For a moment, Garin said nothing, his gaze narrowing as he stared at Charlie. There was something unsettling in the way Garin looked at him, as though he were peering straight through Charlie's bravado and into his very soul. Charlie shifted under the weight of that stare, feeling exposed, like he was being silently appraised in ways he couldn't fully understand.
After what felt like an eternity, Garin finally spoke. "I suppose so," he said, his tone unreadable. "At least now I can tell the rest of my men that I found a way to transport all the cargo."
Charlie blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. He wasn't sure if Garin was truly agreeing with him or if he was simply making a practical decision. Either way, it seemed like he had passed some sort of unspoken test.
Garin stood up from the bedside, his movements slow and deliberate. He turned to face Charlie one last time, his expression stern. "Two hours, lad. No more, no less. If you aren't ready by then, you're staying behind—no arguments."
He paused at the door, casting a final glance over his shoulder. "And don't think for a second that I'll let you do anything foolish out there."
Charlie nodded, a flicker of respect crossing his face. Garin's words weren't just a warning—they were a promise.
He exhaled, a mixture of relief and anticipation settling in his chest. The elixir was already starting to work its magic, dulling the pain and slowly bringing his strength back. This was his chance to prove himself—not just to Garin, but to himself.
Charlie gave a small nod, knowing full well that Garin's eyes would be on him during the operation. But in that moment, the weight of Garin's stare was less daunting. He felt a renewed sense of determination, Especially so when he looked at the mission he had just accepted.
[Capture Don Krieg.]
[Objective: Subdue and capture Don Krieg alive and hand him to the Marines for his Bounty.]
[Success: You gain recognition or notoriety from everyone involved.]
[Reward: All Rokushiki techniques at beginner level.]
[Failure: You lose all respect Garin has for you for your reckless behavior, possible death.]
[AN] So... a bit more description of how people look. I included his adoptive mother for multiple reasons especially for the characterization of Charlie, to show why he is always trying to help people and that even trough he doesn't know the full picture he will still act in a way that he feels is right(not necessarily good).