---
The Eclipse glided through the Grand Line, its crew adjusting to the weight of their captain's growing legend. The wanted poster bearing Michael's moniker—The Boogeyman—had spread rapidly, its ominous name whispered in fear and awe. The bounty wasn't the highest on the seas, but the stories behind it ensured it was more than just money that drew attention. Fear was a weapon, and Michael wielded it masterfully.
Michael stood at the helm, the poster tucked into his coat. His keen eyes scanned the horizon, his mind already turning over the next step in their journey. Behind him, Lia worked on a collapsible sniper rifle she'd been perfecting, while Amara leaned against the railing, her blade resting beside her.
"You think anyone's stupid enough to come for us yet?" Lia asked, not looking up from her work.
Amara smirked, running a whetstone along her blade. "They always are. The question is who."
Michael's lips curved into a faint smirk. "And how many."
Amara glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "You sound like you're looking forward to it."
Michael shrugged, his gaze never leaving the horizon. "Not looking forward to it. Just ready for it."
---
Their destination was Greystone Island, a bustling trade hub nestled amidst towering cliffs. It was known for its black markets and connections to both pirates and bounty hunters. The crew needed supplies, and Lia had a long list of materials for her projects. It wasn't the safest place, but it was the right one.
As the Eclipse approached the island's harbor, Michael addressed the crew. "Keep your heads down. Grab what we need and listen for anything useful. We're not here to make waves."
"Speak for yourself," Amara said with a smirk. "Making waves is half the fun."
Michael gave her a sidelong glance. "Not this time."
The crew disembarked, blending into the throng of merchants, traders, and mercenaries that filled Greystone's bustling streets. The air was thick with the scent of spices and oil, and the din of haggling voices was near-deafening. Despite the chaos, Michael's Observation Haki was attuned to every movement, every flicker of intent in the crowd.
---
Lia led the way to the markets, her sharp eyes scanning for the materials on her list. Amara stayed close, her hand resting casually on the hilt of her blade, while Michael kept his distance, his focus on the crowd. The stories of the Boogeyman had spread far and wide, and while most feared him, some would be foolish enough to seek him out.
"Found it," Lia said, gesturing to a stall laden with high-quality metals and precision parts. She began bartering with the merchant, her enthusiasm evident as she examined the goods.
Amara leaned against the stall, watching the crowd with sharp eyes. "Anything yet?" she asked Michael quietly.
"Not yet," he replied, his tone calm but alert. "But it's coming."
It didn't take long. As Lia finalized her purchases, Michael felt the faint ripple of hostile intent—several presences converging on their location. He turned slightly, his hand resting on the pistol at his side.
"Amara," he said quietly.
"I see them," she replied, her smirk turning predatory.
The first bounty hunter made his move, lunging from the shadows with a dagger aimed at Michael's back. The attack never landed. Michael vanished with a burst of Soru, reappearing behind his attacker and firing a single, suppressed shot. The man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The market erupted into chaos as more bounty hunters appeared, their weapons drawn and their eyes fixed on Michael.
"It's him!" one shouted. "The Boogeyman!"
Lia ducked behind the stall, clutching her newly acquired materials. "I thought we were keeping a low profile!"
"Plans change," Michael said, his tone steady as he reloaded his pistol.
Amara drew her blade, her movements fluid and deliberate. "Let's make this quick."
---
The battle was over before it truly began. Michael moved like a phantom, his Observation Haki predicting every attack before it came. His pistol fired in near silence, each shot precise and deadly. Bounty hunters fell one after another, their strikes meeting only empty air as Michael vanished and reappeared, his speed unmatched.
Amara fought beside him, her blade flashing in the dim light of the market. She deflected bullets with ease, her strikes calculated and efficient. Lia, meanwhile, used her Metal-Metal Fruit to create temporary barriers, shielding herself and the goods from stray attacks.
Within minutes, the bounty hunters were either incapacitated or fleeing, their confidence shattered by the sheer disparity in skill.
As the dust settled, Michael holstered his pistol, his gaze sweeping over the carnage. The market had gone silent, the remaining merchants and traders staring in awe and fear.
Amara smirked, flicking blood from her blade. "Not bad, Captain. But next time, save some for me."
Michael's lips curved into a faint smile. "You seemed to manage just fine."
Lia emerged from her hiding spot, clutching her purchases tightly. "Can we leave now? I've got everything I need."
Michael nodded. "Let's move."
---
Back on the Eclipse, the crew regrouped, their supplies secured and their enemies left behind. Lia wasted no time organizing her materials, her excitement evident as she began sketching designs for new weapons and gadgets.
Amara leaned against the railing, her smirk fading as she studied Michael. "This is going to keep happening, isn't it?"
Michael met her gaze, his expression calm. "Probably."
"And you're okay with that?"
Michael shrugged. "It's the price of the work we do. As long as we're careful, we'll stay ahead of them."
Amara's smirk returned, though it was softer this time. "Careful isn't exactly our style."
Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "No, it's not."
---
As the Eclipse sailed away from Greystone, the crew reflected on the day's events. The legend of the Boogeyman continued to grow, fed by the tales of those who survived their encounters with him—or more often, by the silence of those who didn't. The Grand Line was vast and filled with dangers, but Michael and his crew thrived in its chaos.
The name Boogeyman wasn't just a title. It was a symbol—a reminder that no one, not pirates nor corrupt marines, was untouchable. And as long as Michael and his crew sailed the seas, that legend would only grow stronger.
The world was watching. And the Boogeyman was ready.
---