"Come on, move it faster!" I barked, watching as one of the three pirates we'd tied up earlier slowly dragged a crate of provisions toward the gangway.
Now I was sitting on the edge of the deck—their ship's deck—an old map spread beside me as I double-checked the route to our next destination. The three of them, grumbling but obedient, were already hard at work under our watchful eyes, unloading everything salvageable from the submarine. Sabo, sitting nearby, kept an eye out to make sure no one tried to run or pull something stupid.
"Didn't think we'd end up sailing their ship," Sabo said, glancing over the hull. "But you know, it's sturdier than it looks. Patch it up, repaint it…"
"The main thing is taking down their flag," I cut in, standing up. "With that on the mast, any patrol ship'll think we're part of Grim's pirate crew. And we don't need that."
I climbed the raised platform near the helm and looked up—the filthy black flag with its red skull was still flapping in the wind.
Grabbing it, I yanked it down in one sharp pull. The rough cloth rustled through the air like it didn't want to give up. I rolled it tightly and tossed it onto the deck.
"That's it," I muttered to myself. "Now it's just a ship."
I jumped down, landing softly near the stern. I felt the springs in my legs compress slightly from the impact, then return to normal. Sabo stood by the railing, watching as the three pirates loaded the last of the supplies aboard.
"Done with the flag?" he asked without turning around.
"Yeah. It doesn't exist anymore. No more Grim crew, no more 'crest'. This is just a vessel now."
I walked up beside him, dusting off my hands.
"As soon as we're done loading, we set sail. We need to leave before the patrol arrives," I said, looking at Sabo.
He nodded."Think we'll make it?"
"We will. I asked the village elder to alert the patrol as soon as we depart. He'll say the ship vanished—let them deal with it if they care."
While we were preparing, the locals started gathering by the shore. Some brought baskets of food, others came just to say goodbye. Elderly women waved from the rocks, kids ran along the waterline, pointing excitedly at the ship. Even the elder came down—still a bit shaky from earlier fear, but his gaze steady.
"Thank you," he said, gripping my hand firmly. "You didn't just save us… you gave us hope."
"Take care of the village," I replied. "The patrol will handle the rest. And if trouble comes again—I believe you'll manage."
Sabo turned and waved at the kids shouting:
"Good luck! Come back someday!"
I smirked."Well, finally time to leave this place," I muttered.
"Raise the anchor!" I shouted, turning to the now somewhat-familiar trio of pirates.
Heppoko, Peppoko, and Poppoko exchanged glances, then reluctantly rushed to the mechanisms.
"Aye…" one of them grumbled, glaring at the deck.
I hadn't taken those pirates for nothing. Sure, at first they looked like useless baggage—could've caused all kinds of trouble. But... the truth is, I have no idea how to sail a ship.
I climbed up to the helm, feeling the wind already teasing my hair. The sails filled, the masts creaked, and the ship slowly but surely began pulling away from shore. The rush of waves and cries of seagulls blended with the hum of wind—perfect morning for heading into the unknown.
Standing at the wheel… alright, that's enough, I thought.
"Hey, Heppoko! Get over here!" I called over my shoulder.
The pirate flinched, tearing himself away from the anchor, and hurried over, stomping heavily across the deck.
"You're gonna man the wheel and steer us to Graveharbor Island," I said firmly, stepping aside.
"Uh… got it!" Heppoko grabbed the helm with both hands, clearly uneasy but trying to hide it.
I turned to Sabo:"Explain the route to him. We don't want to hit rocks or spend weeks going in circles."
Sabo nodded, adjusting the bandage on his shoulder."Listen carefully," he said, standing beside the helmsman. "Stick with the northern current, about north-northeast. The route barely shifts unless you need to go around islands. I'll guide you if needed, don't worry."
Heppoko listened with the look of someone being dumped with the entire world's geography at once, but nodded, repeating the heading.
"You got this?" I asked, staring into his eyes.
"Y-yeah… I'll try!"
I clapped him on the shoulder."Just try sailing off-course, I dare you."
Sabo and I exchanged a glance. The waves were carrying us away from the island. A gust of wind whipped the sails, and the ship now rocked with purpose, picking up speed. In the distance, the shore slowly blurred, melting into mist and jagged silhouettes of cliffs.
"We're off," I exhaled, slumping onto the side rail, rolling my shoulders.
It had been seven days since we'd left that island.
The sea had become familiar. The days passed in routine—someone scrubbing the deck, someone cooking, Sabo reading an old journal we found aboard, and me training—jumps, spring-loaded strikes, force control. I had to stay sharp.
On the seventh day, with the outline of Graveharbor just beginning to appear on the horizon, Peppoko suddenly spoke up:
"What's gonna happen to us?" he asked, looking at me with a strange kind of hope.
Sabo and I were sitting on crates, eating fish we'd caught the day before. The three brothers—Heppoko, Peppoko, and Poppoko—sat across from us. All three looked quieter than usual. Maybe nearing a new destination made them start thinking.
"Well…" I set my bowl aside, "honestly, you guys did alright. You got us here, didn't screw up, even figured out the course."
"They did get off-course a few times," Sabo muttered with a smirk, "but it was manageable."
"So here's the deal," I went on. "You can keep this ship. She's old, but she sails. Sell it in port. Split the money, live a calm life. I'd advise against going back to piracy—someone will beat you up the first night."
"What if someone takes our money?" Poppoko asked nervously, glancing at the horizon.
"If someone on the island gives you trouble…" I shrugged. "Sabo and I are nearby. We'll help."
Sabo nodded, not taking his eyes off the map:"Just don't even think about using our names to brag or play the heroes. If you do, we won't step in."
"N-nooo, of course not!" Heppoko shook his head quickly. "We're keeping it low now! We'll start a trade business… or go fishing!"
"Or open a tavern!" Peppoko added dreamily.
"Boss, what's your dream?" Poppoko suddenly asked.
"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates!" I answered without hesitation.I don't know why, but every time I say it, there's this light, joyful feeling inside me, like for a moment the world actually makes sense.
The three brothers, however, didn't quite share my inspiration—silence settled over the deck.
By now, we'd gotten to know each other better. The three brothers turned out to be not as bad as they first seemed. Simple, a bit dim, but not evil. They hadn't become pirates out of ambition—they came from a poor island where food was scarce. One of them had once dreamed of becoming a carpenter, another a fisherman… but fate had other plans.
Though of course, that doesn't excuse the fact they used to rob people.
In a couple of hours, we'd be at the island…