Sea Calendar 1516, September.
The sun was shining brightly today, a warm, gentle breeze rustling through the air. In the spacious backyard, two women dressed in light summer clothes were lounging in beach chairs, chatting idly.
"Mia, your skin is amazing," Muret complimented.
"Heehee, is it?" Mia preened.
"And your hair is so pretty, too." Muret's fiery red hair was always a source of envy.
"Oh, the hair? That's just how I was born, nothing I can do about it." The red hair had caused her more than a few headaches. If she had a choice, she'd rather not have it.
The two women sipped their cold drinks and continued their leisurely conversation, flitting between topics that caught their interest. Somehow, the subject drifted to Bellamy.
"The Captain's reputation in town seems pretty bad," Mia mused, genuinely puzzled by the Hyena's notoriety. As far as she could tell, while the Captain was a bit ruthless, he never stooped to robbing ordinary civilians. He had said himself, if he needed money, he'd rob other pirates. What kind of pirate preyed on civilians?
"Not just 'pretty bad,' it's terrible," Muret, a local, said with feeling. "You have no idea. The first time I met him, I was practically scared to death."
"He just demanded I join his crew, right then and there! He didn't even consider his own reputation in town."
Muret had actually been making plans to move, to flee Minion Island altogether. If Bellamy hadn't shown up again the next day, offering surprisingly generous terms, she would have already escaped to another island.
"That sounds just like the Captain," Mia said with a knowing smile. He wanted something, so he'd try to take it. If he couldn't have it, he'd steal it. He was a born pirate, through and through.
"I wonder when we'll actually set sail," Muret sighed. They called themselves a pirate crew, but they didn't even have a small boat. And the Captain didn't seem to be in any hurry. All he ever talked about was training, training, training.
"We still need a navigator," Mia pointed out, having a better understanding of sailing. "The Captain wouldn't dare set sail without one."
"Going to sea is such a hassle. I don't know why so many people risk their lives to do it."
"Maybe it's because of their dreams," Mia offered. She herself had set sail to chase her own dream.
The word seemed to stun Muret for a moment. "Dreams…?" Because of her little brother, she hadn't considered her own desires for years. When she thought about dreams, her mind drew a complete blank. "Mia, what's your dream?"
"Me? I set sail to find the legendary treasure that can transform into anything – the Imitation Fruit!"
"A Devil Fruit? How could you ever find something like that just by looking?" The idea of setting sail to find a specific Devil Fruit seemed impossibly far-fetched.
Mia seemed used to people not understanding her dream. "Didn't the Captain eat a Devil Fruit? And that gloomy guy always hanging around, he seems to be a Devil Fruit user too."
"So, what do you want to do if you find the Imitation Fruit?" Muret was curious.
Mia's eyes instantly lit up. "Of course, I'll throw it in a pot and cook it!"
"I'll have a loyal subordinate eat the fruit, then have them transform into the ingredients I need! That way, I can make the most delicious soup in the world!" Mia burst into laughter, throwing her head back and placing her hands on her hips.
Muret's forehead creased with concern. "Hey, hey, that's… that's not possible, is it? Even a Devil Fruit can't turn a person into soup!"
"If it's the Imitation Fruit, it's definitely possible!" Mia insisted, her face completely serious.
"No way, no way!"
"It's totally possible!"
"No way!"
"Totally possible!"
. . . . . .
"What are they arguing about?" Bellamy grumbled. He couldn't even get a decent nap in the middle of the day. His injuries were still healing, preventing him from any strenuous activity.
For the past few days, he'd been doing nothing but eating and sleeping, and his bones were starting to itch with restlessness. Since he was awake now, he might as well get up and take a walk around.
He climbed out of bed and stretched experimentally. Bellamy actually felt pretty much recovered, but the doctor insisted he rest for a few more days. There was nothing he could do but listen. It was best to trust the professionals when it came to these things. Didn't Whitebeard end up miserable in his old age? A man had to take care of himself while he was young. Although, with his personality, he doubted he'd live to be as old as Whitebeard.
"Aha, I'll just get some light exercise, then," he decided. The weather really was beautiful today.
Stepping outside, Bellamy felt himself come alive, basking in the bright sunshine and fresh air. "Where is everyone?"
The two women were in the backyard, sunbathing and gossiping – he didn't want to join that. Ross was nowhere to be seen, and Mani and the little brat seemed to have gone out to play. So where was Drake? He wasn't in the backyard or the front courtyard. Where could that guy have wandered off to?
The small villa was big, but it didn't take long to search it. Soon, Bellamy found Drake in an empty room.
"This guy, he's training, of course." This large room used to be where the dojo master taught his disciples. Now that the martial arts hall was closed, it was naturally empty.
Bellamy strolled in and sat down to watch. Weight training, physical conditioning, body forging, honing the physique. It was dull and repetitive, but that was the nature of martial arts. The amount of sweat you put in directly correlated to the results you achieved. It was the hardest path, but also the most fundamental, with no shortcuts.
After watching for a while, Bellamy's hands started itching. "Hey, Drake."
"Training alone is boring. Want me to spar with you?"
Drake had seen him the moment he entered, but he'd chosen to ignore him. "No need. I don't want to bully an injured man."
"You little brat!" Bellamy's lip twitched. Arrogant punks were really annoying. "Hey, kid, what you used the other day… that was the Six Powers, right?" There was no point in hiding something like that, so he asked directly.
"Yeah, so what? You want to learn?" Drake knew he couldn't hide it, but he didn't consider the Six Powers to be anything special. The techniques were already becoming widespread among the Navy's elite troops. If you were determined, you could get your hands on them with a few connections.
He didn't realize that not everyone was the same. His father was a Rear Admiral; getting the Six Powers was a simple matter for him. But for a low-level pirate like Bellamy, obtaining the Six Powers would require an untold amount of time and effort. This was the difference in perspective that came with one's birth.
"Yeah, teach me," Bellamy said, playfully testing the waters.
To his surprise, Drake agreed immediately. "I only know Finger Pistol and Iron Body right now. You'll have to figure out the other four techniques on your own."
Bellamy was taken aback by how easily he'd obtained the Six Powers. He hadn't realized a crucial factor: Drake recognized his strength. If he were just a common, trashy pirate, Drake wouldn't have been so generous.
"No problem. Just write down the other techniques for me." Now that he had the Six Powers, it was time for full-crew training.