I flipped through the pages of the book, eyes scanning every word as my mind absorbed it like a sponge. The structure of the language, the idioms, and the common phrases clicked into place with each pass.
Before long, the entire book and its contents were committed to memory. The newspapers, with their detailed reports of the war at Marineford and Whitebeard's demise, filled in the gaps of my understanding of this world's recent history.
Satisfied, I set the book aside, listening to the hum of the town outside.
....
The market had picked up its rhythm again, the shock of yesterday's news buried under the necessity of daily life. I stepped out into the sun, the warm light casting sharp shadows on the cobblestone streets.
The scent of spiced meats and fresh fruit filled the air as I weaved through the crowd, pausing at a food stall to buy a skewer of grilled meat.
The vendor, a stout man with a thick mustache, nodded as I approached. "Morning! You look new around here," he said, half clear and half in words I couldn't yet make out.
"Yeah, just settling in," I replied smoothly, handing him a few coins.
He handed me the skewer with a friendly nod. "Careful out there. News like yesterday's shakes the whole sea. Who knows what kind of people it'll bring."
I bit into the meat, savoring the smoky flavor. "Good to know. Thanks."
He chuckled, moving on to the next customer as I stepped away. The market was a swirl of color and sound, traders shouting prices, children darting between stalls, and sailors swapping tall tales over mugs of ale. I caught bits of conversation, stringing together phrases and filling in the blanks as I listened.
"...pirates won't back down even now…" "...heard the Marines are calling for reinforcements…" "...that Whitebeard, a giant among men, to think he's gone..."
The world around me was volatile, poised on the edge of change, and I needed to find my place before it shifted again. I finished the skewer and tossed the stick aside, my eyes catching a sign across the street that read, Properties and Estates.
'Time to make this more permanent,' I thought, crossing the street and stepping into the small office. The interior was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of old wood and ink. Behind the counter stood a man in a tailored vest, spectacles perched on his nose as he shuffled through a ledger.
"Welcome," he said, glancing up. "What can I help you with?"
"I'm looking to buy a house," I said, letting a few coins slip from my fingers onto the counter. They clinked together, catching his interest.
He raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "Ah, we have several properties available. What are you looking for?"
"Something simple but private," I replied, my tone firm.
He nodded and began listing options, but my attention was stolen by movement near the door. A young woman had just stepped in, her hair dark and flowing, eyes sharp and curious.
She was dressed in a fitted blouse and a long skirt that hugged her figure, with a pendant glinting at her collarbone. She met my gaze, one brow arching slightly before she turned to speak with the clerk.
"Is the coastal house still available?" she asked, her voice melodic and confident.
"It is, Miss Livia," the clerk replied. He glanced between the two of us, sensing an opportunity for competition.
I stepped closer, offering a smile. "You have good taste. Coastal houses are rare in a port like this."
Livia's eyes flicked to me, measuring. "You must be new if you think buying one is easy."
"New, yes. But not unaware," I said, letting the silence stretch just long enough for intrigue.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Bold words for someone who doesn't even know if he's staying."
"Bold actions are what secure a place," I countered. "Care for a drink later? To discuss what else I might not know?"
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. "You're more interesting than most," she finally said. "I'll meet you at the Golden Anchor at dusk."
"Deal." I turned back to the clerk. "I'll take the house on the hill."
....
By dusk, the Golden Anchor was alive with chatter, the warm glow of lanterns spilling into the street. I found a table near the back, where the noise was softer and the shadows deeper. Livia arrived shortly after, slipping into the seat across from me with a smirk.
"So," she began, leaning forward, "what brings you to this corner of the world?"
"Opportunity," I said simply. "I heard this place is... full of it."
She sipped her drink, eyes never leaving mine. "Yesterday's news didn't scare you off, then? Most new faces I see are already talking about leaving."
"It's not in my nature to run from a challenge."
Her smile widened, genuine this time. "Good. I hate cowards."
We talked for hours, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine she ordered. I spoke in vague terms about being a merchant's son with a knack for finding fortune and misfortune in equal measure.
She listened, teasing out details, her laughter soft and rich whenever I deflected with a well-placed joke. By the time the innkeeper called last orders, she was leaning closer, a sparkle in her eyes that promised more than conversation.
"Your place?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.
"Follow me," I replied.
....
The morning light filtered through the cracked shutters, painting lines across the room. I sat at the edge of the bed, biting into a crisp apple as I stared at the sleeping form next to me. Livia's dark hair spilled over the pillow, her expression soft and relaxed.
I glanced around the sparsely furnished room, taking stock of what I had and what I needed. The pile of coins on the table was enough to fund my plans for a while, but I needed more than just money.
I needed influence, information, and a foothold in the town's underbelly. The market had revealed enough: whispers of pirate movements, rumors of marine reinforcements, all the signals of a world trying to right itself after a seismic shift.
'A business,' I thought, the idea taking shape with each bite of the apple. Smuggling, perhaps? Or arms dealing? The marines were clearly lacking, and the pirates were bound to gear up for the next phase of chaos. There was demand, and I could supply.
Livia stirred, her eyes fluttering open to find me watching her. She smiled lazily, stretching. "Already up?"
I nodded. "Couldn't sleep. Too much to do."
She sat up, sheets pooling around her waist. "Plans?"
"Always," I said, tossing the apple core aside. "And I could use someone who knows the town."
Her smile turned sly. "Maybe I could be persuaded to help."
'Good,' I thought, watching her expression shift as she read between the lines. The night had been more than just pleasure; it was an introduction to a potential ally, someone with connections I could use.
The game had begun, and I intended to play it well.