"Pirates," Sanji said. "Or worse."
End.
A voice called across the water, thin as a knife. "Lost your way, Straw Hats? This sea belongs to the Blackcurrent Fleet. Hand over your valuables— and the map." The speaker's laugh tasted of iron and old thunder.
Amid the clash, Luffy faced the leader: a lanky man with a grin wrapped in scars, eyes like cold coals. He wielded a harpoon launched with mechanical precision, each barbed tip humming with current-sparked energy. Luffy dodged and laughed, steel and storm blending into a dance as both captains measured the other.
With their edge gone, the Blackcurrent Fleet faltered. Crew members surrendered or fled, swallowed by the darkening sea. The galleon's leader, unhorsed and cornered, swore vengeance and slid back into the waves with a promise to meet them again.
When the deck cleared, the Straw Hats tended to each other — mending cuts, sharing water, offering jokes to patch shaken nerves. Nami rolled up the damaged charts and smiled at the map saved. "Three days shorter," she said. Luffy laughed, stuffing the last of the meat into his mouth. "Worth it!"
The sun hung low over the sea, painting the horizon in bruised orange as the Going Merry slipped through glassy water. Inside the ship, Luffy hummed, hat tilted back, eyes on the endless sky. The crew had just left an island where laughter and sorrow had tangled together — a small victory, small debts repaid — but trouble had a way of following the Straw Hats like gulls follow a trawler.
A shadow rose from the water — a wrecked galleon half-submerged, tattered sails fluttering like the dying breaths of a giant. On its deck stood figures cloaked in sea-weathered coats, their faces hidden beneath hats the color of storm clouds.