Chapter 11: Pirate Games and a Shocking Challenge
[SYSTEM MISSION: PARTICIPATE IN EAST BLUE PIRATE GAMES. RECOMMENDED ACTION: ENGINEER DEATH. ACQUISITION: BASIC TOUGHNESS / CROWD CONTROL. SECONDARY GOAL: GAIN EAST BLUE RECOGNITION.]
"Alright, after the Baratie's near-existential obliteration, a change of pace is definitely in order. 'Pirate Games'? Sounds like a gloriously chaotic way to spend a few days. And a prime opportunity for a low-stakes, high-reward death. I'm thinking something blunt, something impactful. A good old-fashioned brawl, maybe a strategically placed collapsing structure. 'Basic Toughness' would be an absolute game-changer for someone who plans on dying as much as I do. Or 'Crowd Control'? Imagine the sheer annoyance I could inflict! Either way, it's time to make some friends in the East Blue... by getting spectacularly annihilated by them. Let's make some headlines, and then promptly get knocked out of them."
The Going Merry, having successfully navigated away from the Baratie with a new, cigarette-puffing chef onboard, was sailing under a gloriously clear East Blue sky. The initial tension from Mihawk's casual display of world-ending power had slowly given way to a more relaxed, if still entirely chaotic, rhythm. Sanji was already proving his worth, churning out meals that made Luffy weep with joy and even managed to coax a grunt of approval from Zoro. Nami, ever the pragmatist, was already trying to find ways to monetize Sanji's cooking.
"Hey, Nami-swan!" I called out from my perch on the crow's nest, stretching an arm to snag a particularly juicy apple from a basket Sanji had left on deck. "Any interesting islands on the horizon? My system's itching for a new mission. Preferably one that doesn't involve being atomized by a seven-foot-tall man with a cross for a sword."
Nami, who was meticulously poring over a collection of charts, didn't even look up. "There's a small cluster of islands called the 'Gamble Isles' up ahead. They're known for… well, for gambling. And some rather dubious 'pirate games' where local crews blow off steam and compete for bragging rights. Probably nothing for us."
Luffy, whose rubbery ears seemed to detect keywords from miles away, shot up from his napping spot. "Pirate Games?! Shishishishi! That sounds fun! Let's go, Nami! We can win lots of meat!"
Zoro, for his part, merely grunted, his hand instinctively going to his swords. Even in his sleep, the allure of a fight was strong.
"Pirate Games, huh?" I mused aloud, a mischievous glint in my eye. My compass, usually a steady beacon towards Robin, gave a faint, almost imperceptible tremor. It wasn't pointing directly at her, but towards the general direction of the Gamble Isles, implying an 'opportunity.' A system prompt, subtle at first, began to form in the back of my mind.
[SYSTEM MISSION: PARTICIPATE IN EAST BLUE PIRATE GAMES. RECOMMENDED ACTION: ENGINEER DEATH. ACQUISITION: BASIC TOUGHNESS / CROWD CONTROL. SECONDARY GOAL: GAIN EAST BLUE RECOGNITION.]
"Bingo. This is perfect. Low-risk, high-reward. No World Government, no ridiculously powerful warlords. Just a bunch of local ruffians. Time to make a name for ourselves. And for me to get a few more layers of skin. Or, you know, mental resilience against being stepped on."
"Count me in, Luffy!" I declared, sliding down the mast with a rubbery thud. "This sounds like exactly what we need after all that drama at the Baratie. Besides, if there's a crowd, there's usually a lot of… unclaimed valuables." I winked at Nami, who immediately narrowed her eyes.
"You better not steal anything," she warned, pointing a accusatory finger. "Or I'll charge you double for every last Beri!"
"Duly noted, Captain Thief," I said with a mock salute. "I'm merely interested in the… cultural exchange. And perhaps a bit of friendly competition."
The Gamble Isles lived up to their name. The main port was a cacophony of shouting vendors, gambling tents, and drunken sailors. The "Pirate Games" were less a structured tournament and more a series of spontaneous, brutal challenges. There was arm-wrestling that ended in broken tables, improvised wrestling matches that cleared entire streets, and a rather terrifying "demolition derby" involving small, ramshackle fishing boats.
"Alright, what's first?" Luffy asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes wide with excitement.
"I'm thinking something… high-impact," I mused, scanning the various brawls. "Something that involves a lot of bodies. Something where I can get truly, spectacularly overwhelmed. For science, you understand."
Sanji, who had followed us ashore with a surprisingly large picnic basket, raised an eyebrow. "You're looking for a specific way to die now, First Mate-kun? Your hobbies are getting stranger by the day."
"It's called strategic planning, chef," I replied with a grin. "Can't just die willy-nilly. Gotta make it count. And judging by the sheer amount of muscle-bound idiots in that free-for-all over there, I think I've found my next classroom." I pointed to a chaotic, street-wide brawl where two dozen pirates were whaling on each other with improvised weapons, fists, and the occasional fish.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: KILLER DETECTED. MULTIPLE EAST BLUE PIRATES. RECOMMENDED ACTION: ENGINEER DEATH. ACQUISITION: BASIC TOUGHNESS / CROWD CONTROL.]
"Perfect. A generic death by a generic angry mob. Exactly what the doctor ordered. Or, you know, what the system ordered. Which is basically the same thing when you're immortal."
"Alright, team!" I yelled, taking a deep breath and stretching my rubbery limbs. "Wish me luck! I'm going in! And if I don't come back, just assume I'm getting a very important system upgrade!"
Before anyone could react, I bounded into the fray. My Gum-Gum abilities allowed me to weave through the initial punches, stretching and bouncing away from the worst of the blows. But my goal wasn't to win; it was to lose. Spectacularly.
"Hey, ugly!" I yelled at a particularly large, brutish pirate with a tattooed skull on his forehead. "Your mama dresses you funny! And your fighting style is like watching a drunken hippo dance!"
The pirate roared, dropping his current opponent and lunging at me. His fist, the size of a small ham, connected with my cheek. My head snapped back, but the rubberiness absorbed most of the blow.
"Oh, is that all you got, big boy?" I taunted, intentionally letting my guard down. "My grandmother hits harder! And she's eighty and knits doilies for fun!"
This only infuriated him. He swung again, and another pirate, drawn by the commotion, joined in. Soon, I was the center of attention. Punches, kicks, and even a few crude weapons rained down on me. My Chop-Chop Fruit ability allowed me to detach limbs, making it harder for them to hit anything vital, and my Pussyfoot Maneuver allowed me to evade the most critical blows for a time. But I was actively trying to get overwhelmed.
"Come on, you unwashed masses!" I bellowed, a wide, challenging grin on my face, even as a rusty cutlass scraped harmlessly across my detached arm. "Is that all the East Blue has to offer?! I've seen teacups with more spirit than you lot!"
The sheer number of assailants began to tell. My rubber body could absorb and deflect, but the cumulative force, the constant barrage of fists and feet, started to wear me down. I felt the pressure mounting, my vision blurring at the edges. A particularly heavy blow to the back of my head, probably from a wooden club, finally did it. It wasn't a clean, decisive death like Mihawk's, or the tearing agony of Kuro's. It was a slow, crushing, overwhelming sensation. My body simply gave out under the weight of the collective assault, my consciousness fading into a dull roar of blows and shouts.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: DEATH RECORDED. KILLER: MULTIPLE EAST BLUE PIRATES. ABILITY ACQUIRED: BASIC TOUGHNESS. REVIVAL INITIATING. PLEASE WAIT.]
"Basic Toughness! YES! Perfect! Now I can take even more of a beating. This is going to be great for future 'learning experiences.' And probably for annoying Nami even more. Time for the grand re-entrance. Because if you're going to get pummeled into oblivion, you might as well make it a dramatic return."
I gasped, my eyes snapping open. The cacophony of the brawl was still raging, but I was suddenly aware of every impact, every jostle, every grunt of pain around me. My body felt… different. Not rubberier, or choppier, but simply denser. Like my very atoms had tightened, making me harder to damage. I slowly pushed myself up from the pile of bodies, feeling absolutely fine, not a scratch on me despite the phantom aches.
The pirates who had just been celebrating their victory over me froze. Their eyes, wide with disbelief, stared at my perfectly intact form.
"Boo!" I said, standing up and dusting myself off, a wide, triumphant grin on my face. "Did I miss anything? Was that a good one? I felt like I really committed to the 'utterly defeated' look."
The large pirate with the skull tattoo stammered, his ham-sized fist still clenched. "You… you're alive?! We… we flattened you! You were like a pancake!"
"Well, lucky for me, I'm a very resilient pancake!" I chuckled, stretching my arms and feeling the new solidity in my muscles. "Thanks for the workout, fellas. I feel positively invigorated! And significantly tougher, I might add." I then flexed a bicep, which felt surprisingly solid. "Yep, definitely tougher. My compliments to the chefs, you really know how to tenderize a meat bag!"
Chaos erupted anew, but this time, it was a chaos of fear and bewilderment. The pirates, utterly freaked out by my resurrection, scattered like startled pigeons.
Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji, who had arrived to check on me, saw the fleeing pirates and my nonchalant attitude.
"He's amazing!" Luffy cheered, clapping his hands. "He got up! Shishishishi!"
Zoro just shook his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk on his face. "You're seriously something else, Adam."
Sanji, however, looked genuinely concerned. "You deliberately let them beat you up, didn't you, First Mate-kun? You're completely insane."
"It's called method acting, chef," I replied with a wink. "And it paid off! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm feeling hungry. All this dying really works up an appetite. Do you think they have a buffet around here? One that doesn't try to kill you?"
The Pirate Games continued, but the crowd now eyed me with a mixture of awe and extreme caution. My brief, yet utterly baffling, demise had spread like wildfire, adding another layer to the Straw Hats' growing (and increasingly bizarre) reputation in the East Blue. And I, Adam D. Vane, was now just a little bit harder to hurt. Perfect.