The wet ocean wind filled the sails as I stood on the captain's bridge. Previously, this ship was preparing to fly to Skypia, the legendary flying island. The crew lived by this idea, as if it were the only worthwhile adventure in life. I knew it wouldn't be easy to change course, but I had no other choice. I couldn't have given Enel a decent fight.
The crew was perplexed: the work was canceled, the fees were in a hurry. The sailors exchanged glances, but no one dared to ask a direct question.
I stepped up to the nose and, looking at them, spoke in a smooth, confident voice, characteristic of Rex.:
— Guys, I learned something before I sailed.
These words had an instant effect. The pirates gathered at the mast, raising their heads. The meeting looked casual, but there was intense anticipation in the eyes of many.
— First of all, Kuro left our team. Secondly, Skypia is not just about treasures," I paused, letting them digest what I had heard. — This is a place where every uninvited guest meets death.
A hum of voices swept across the deck, but no one interrupted, no one even asked why "Kuro" had left the team. I was even offended that he didn't miss me, but as befits a "Rex" I continued.
—The 'God' who protects this island destroys anyone who dares to invade. I took a step forward, glancing at the carriage. "We have no chance in such a battle. If we try, they'll just feed us to the sharks.
Some of the faces fell, but there were also stubborn people in the crowd who gripped their weapons tighter. Their eyes said, "We're willing to take the risk."
"But there's a better option," I said, crossing my arms. — We don't need to look for a Raftel or go up to the sky. I found out about Neptune.
These words made the crew wary.
— The treasure is located near the Sabaody Archipelago. And I know how to find him. Here is a map that we got from one of the sunken ships.
I picked up a well-worn piece of leather, previously soaked in coffee for the effect of antiquity. And also the map was drawn by my hand, but it doesn't matter. The main thing is for the team to believe.
"We're not risking anything for a mirage. This is a real goal. And this is our new course.
Silence. The team was clearly uninspired. But I knew there would be no riot. With a wave of my hand, I signaled for preparations to begin. We set sail.
A ship appeared on the horizon. His silhouette rapidly increased, the sails were filled with strong wind. The black flag with the image of a skeleton in gladiator armor made it clear who was approaching us. The Pirates of Fung. Fang, whose head was estimated at 220 million belli, was one of the supernovae.
I quickly estimated the distance and speed. This ship was noticeably larger than ours, and its speed left no doubt that it would not be easy to get away from it.
— Set a course to the left, full speed. — The voice sounded smooth, without unnecessary emotions, as it should be.
The ship tilted sharply, obediently changing direction. The crew immediately rushed to the ropes and sails, trying to make the most of our capabilities. But despite all efforts, the enemy ship continued to close the distance.
Its sails seemed to capture every gust of wind, and its hull silently cut through the waves, leaving behind a powerful wake. Soon, a shout came from the mast:
"They're gaining on us!" They're changing course, right at us!
The turn didn't do anything. Their maneuverability and speed proved superior. In the distance, massive figures flashed by, readying grappling hooks.
— Stop. Stop the ship.
The order was given without hesitation, and the crew, albeit reluctantly, obeyed. Soon the enemy ship was close, blocking the horizon with its massive hull. There was the creak of their ropes, the rumble of footsteps. Everything was going to the fact that the confrontation was inevitable.
When the boarders came on deck, a huge man came out first. Gordon "Hammer" Hayes is Fang's second assistant. His reward was 60 million belli, and he got his nickname not only because of his Zoan. In a state of semi-shock, he was unstoppable.
—This is Fang's territory," Gordon said in a calm but authoritative voice. — The passage here is paid. You can stay alive if you pay.
I was examining him. Fighting would be suicide. But to agree without a fight?
— And if I have nothing to pay with? I asked, stepping forward.
Gordon's smile widened. He slowly approached one of my men and grabbed him by the collar. The next moment, there was a crunch. The pirate's life left him, and his blood spread across the deck.
— Then pay with your life.
The crew looked at me, waiting for a decision. I took a deep breath.
—Okay,— I said, raising my hands. "We'll pay."
Gordon squinted, clearly surprised by my speed.
— A smart decision.
I took a step forward while someone from the team went to get the gold.
— Can I ask you a question? I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
Gordon frowned, but nodded.
— And if we join you? Let's become part of Fang's team.
These words caused a burst of laughter among the pirates of Fang. My crew froze in shock, no one dared to even whisper.
"That's Captain Fang's decision,— Gordon said. "But you can ask it in person."
Several pirates from Fang's crew boarded our ship, taking control of the rudder and sails. My team was wary, but without unnecessary questions or attempts at resistance. The sailors knew that even a slight hint of disobedience could cost their lives. We moved along with Gordon's ship, accompanied by their gaze — tenacious, appraising, as if they were already looking at who to take into slavery and who to throw overboard.
The reason for the choice was the unknown ritual for becoming a demigod. Advancing from Faceless to Puppeteer requires doing it under the singing of mermaids. And from a Puppeteer to a Mad Sorcerer, he demanded the murder of a demigod in front of the audience. Considering who the demigods are in this world, I don't know yet, they could be the owners of a mythical zoan.
The journey to Nemea Island was short. The island seemed unremarkable: a modest port with two rickety berths and several ships under repair. From a distance, I noticed a large administrative building in the center of the island, with a flag flying over it, presumably belonging to Fang. A high hill with overgrown trails dominated the landscape, and the houses of local residents were closely clustered around the building — gray, lopsided, as if they had long since lost the desire to resist time or pirates.
Gordon ordered me to follow him, and I went ashore in silence, not looking at my crew. The streets of the island were eerily silent. When the residents saw us, they hurriedly hid in their houses, covering the windows with curtains. Only a few passersby, bent under the weight of baskets and bags, crossed the streets, trying not to look in the direction of the pirates. Their footsteps were fast but inaudible, like those of people accustomed to fear.
We were moving towards the administration building. It had once been the pride of the Marine Corps, majestic and built in strict lines, but now it looked devastated. The banners of the Watch, which had once fluttered in the wind, lay on the ground, tattered and covered with mud. Near the entrance, the remains of a lookout hung on rusty stakes. His white coat with the words "Justice" was covered in blood. Next to the body were two mugs with the remains of ale, obviously used as trophies by pirates.
Three men guarded the entrance to the building. They were clearly taking things carelessly, playing cards on a box of gunpowder. Swords hung from their belts, but their postures indicated that they weren't expecting any threat. One of them lazily waved his hand, allowing us to pass.
The building looked even worse inside. Furniture was overturned and smashed, and the walls were stained with grease stains and blood. The pirates chose it for their needs. Someone was sitting on the stairs, pouring rum into iron mugs. In the corner of the corridor, two pirates were arguing loudly, almost turning into a fight. The couples laughed loudly, scattering food, weapons, and other trophies around. It's happened worse: I noticed a woman in one of the corridors, who was pinned against the wall by a pirate, not paying attention to those passing by.
We reached the main hall. Here, Fang sprawled on a massive armchair that had once belonged to the head of the local Marine garrison. His huge figure occupied the entire space of the chair. His bronzed skin glistened in the torchlight, and his vest, too small for his size, barely contained his scarred chest. He held the two girls in his arms, hugging them like trophies. They looked lost, their eyes fixed on nothing.
Fang was laughing in his deep, rolling bass voice when we entered the hall. His gaze lingered on me, but only for a moment, before he returned to his entertainment. He looked at Gordon and said:
— Grha-grha-grha! How's the catch, Gordon? His voice filled the room above the hum of voices. —And who is that?"
Gordon roughly pressed on my shoulder, forcing me to get down on one knee, and answered:
— This guy and his team crossed our route. He offers his ship and people in exchange for their lives.
Fang grinned, cocking his head to the side as if examining a rare animal.
— Really? — he said, drawing out the words. "He looks strong." Have you checked it?
There was interest in his voice, but no more than a man choosing a new toy.
At that moment, I was slightly lost in thought. I obviously won't be able to show the "power" of Rex. And although my tricks can be revealed, it's still too much out of character, which is clearly not useful for digesting the potion.
"Ahahahahah, I've been waiting for your decision. He turned back to me and lifted me off my lap by grabbing my shoulder. "But he just seems strong." He's too weak and frail.
- I'm sorry. - I said, and then deflated in size. I was deflating before my eyes. Now, instead of a two-meter-tall ferocious beast, I looked more like a man who was usually 80 meters tall. But despite this, I did not change the color of my skin and face. Remaining a smaller and slightly younger version of Rex. - This is just a dummy, the main task of which is to control and frighten weak opponents.
Smiling at my new appearance, Fang said:
- Gordon, does it matter to you in what form you will break it?
"No, Fang," Gordon drawled with a smile.
We have taken our position. The wide hall of the former Marine Patrol office looked as if a hurricane had passed through it. Overturned furniture, broken tables, and faded portraits on the walls contrasted with the deafening laughter and drunkenness of the pirates who had chosen it for their pleasures. Gordon stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the others, laughing loudly. His massive figure occupied almost the entire center of the hall, and he had already assumed the shape of a half-bull.
I stood in front of him, keeping calm, but inside I felt tension, like a string about to break. The pirates moved apart, forming a circle. Their screams echoed as Gordon took the first step toward me, flexing his shoulders.
"I hope you don't fall apart on the first blow,— he boomed, stretching his lips into a grin.
He didn't expect an answer. There was a desire in his eyes to finish everything quickly. His huge fist was already aimed at me when I stepped back, leaving a burning spark on the floor. The hulk raced past like a bull, knocking down the remains of furniture.
I snapped my fingers, and flames burst out behind him. He barely had time to turn around when I was already transported to the other side of the room through the same flame.
"Jump as much as you want,— Gordon grinned, ignoring the slight burns on his body. His bronzed skin barely flushed.
His feet hit the floor like hammers as he moved towards me. I didn't dodge this time. Pulling a small piece of paper out of my pocket, I instantly turned it into a blade-sharp thorn and threw it at his chest. The thorn sliced through the air, but hit his hide and split without leaving even a scratch.
—Not bad,— he said, approaching. — Let's do it again.
His next punch was fast and powerful. He was aiming straight at the chest, but I softened the bones, making the body flexible. The impact knocked me off like a rag doll, but I was able to roll over and get up using that momentum.
With a snap of my fingers, the air around us vibrated, creating the feeling that the room was beginning to shrink. An illusion. Gordon froze for a moment, looking around. I used this moment to shoot an air bullet in his direction. She slammed into his shoulder with a deafening sound, but only pushed him back a step.
"You're making me laugh,— he said, lightly rubbing his shoulder.
Now he was attacking non-stop, his every step destroying the surrounding furniture and walls. But instead of dodging, I used my abilities again. Sparks flashed under my feet, and before his fist hit me, I was behind him. It was a dangerous maneuver, too close. I fired the air bullet again, aiming for the back of the head. This time, he managed to dodge by turning his whole body.
— Stop running! "Stop it!" he growled. His fist smashed into the floor, scattering splinters.
I jumped back, but his next attack was faster. He grabbed my arm, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to snap it. I left another paper figure in my palm, which instantly activated. I ended up on the other side of the room, and instead of me, there was a wrinkled paper in his hand.
Gordon spat on the floor. His bronzed skin was covered with slight burn marks, but he still stood confidently. My breathing was getting heavier. It's a stalemate for me
—Okay,— Fang said, motioning for Gordon to take a few steps back. — You're capable, maybe you'll be useful.