In the East Blue, on a nameless island, two soaked men slowly crawled out of the sea.
With an emotionless face, Du Hang walked up the beach, yanked the sailor's knife from Roger's waist, stabbed it into the sand, and hung his shirt over the handle to dry.
Seeing this, Roger let out a small "Eh?" and asked, "What about my clothes?"
"You moron! You still want to dry your clothes?! Go find a breezy spot and stay there! If you hadn't lost your damn mind back there, would the ship have sunk?!" Du Hang snapped, gritting his teeth.
"That was an accident! An accident, okay?! How was I supposed to know how many trump cards you had hidden?!"
"If accidents don't count as crimes, then there'd be no need for the Marines," Du Hang replied coldly. He pulled out his smoking pipe, only to find the tobacco in his pocket soaked through. He couldn't help but feel a little gloomy—was this karma for the times he'd tricked Roger?
It had all started about half a day ago, when Du Hang, on a whim, challenged Roger to a spar.
His original intent was simple—just a friendly match to let the AI analyze more of Roger's combat style. It could prove useful later.
But Roger, being the wild card he was, got carried away mid-fight and went full throttle, even activating Armament Haki. Du Hang hadn't seen it coming and got completely overwhelmed on the spot.
Then things got worse.
After a few minutes of exchanging blows, the AI unexpectedly deciphered the principles behind Armament Haki and even generated a program that could activate it. Although it could only coat both hands and last ten minutes, it was still Armament Haki—a top-tier skill even in the New World!
When Du Hang used it, Roger was stunned. But instead of backing down, he got even more hyped and launched a furious assault. Du Hang, having just unlocked the ability and unfamiliar with its use, couldn't hold his ground—and within seconds, the boat beneath them snapped in half…
After swimming for what felt like forever, the two finally reached this small island with the help of the AI. It was a relief to be on land again, but setting out to sea wouldn't be so easy this time.
Du Hang set a rock on the sand to lay out his tobacco to dry under the sun, then squatted nearby, waiting for his clothes and smoke to dry.
Seeing he wasn't getting his knife back, Roger sulkily headed inland. "Du Hang, I'm gonna check the island! If I find any signs of people, I'll come get you!"
"Sure, leave it to you," Du Hang replied without looking back. He didn't offer to join for one simple reason—when they landed, the AI had already mapped the area. The direction Roger went had no village. The village was on the other side of the island…
A while later, the clothes and tobacco dried. Du Hang calmly got dressed, packed his pipe, and began walking toward the village—just as Roger returned.
"Man… No luck over there. Didn't find any houses, but there were signs someone had walked through the forest. There's probably a village on the island," Roger said, scratching his head.
"Yeah, there is. Over there." Du Hang pointed.
"Huh? You already knew? Why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't ask."
"…"
Roger silently pulled the sailor's knife out of the sand—where it had served as a clothesline—and followed Du Hang.
"Hey, Du Hang…"
"Hmm?"
"I am the captain of this pirate crew… right?"
"Of course. We agreed on that together, remember?"
"Then how come I don't feel like I have any of the dignity a captain should have?"
"That's just your imagination."
Brushing him off, Du Hang squinted at the village in the distance.
The island was small—maybe half an hour to cross on foot. It was low enough that rising sea levels could easily submerge it, so it was no surprise there were no Marine outposts. They walked all the way to the village entrance before a local, possibly a militia member, called out to stop them.
Du Hang stepped forward and calmly explained that they were shipwrecked merchant sailors. He was the accountant, and Roger was the muscle. Roger twitched slightly—Du Hang had clearly used this story before. Why did it roll off his tongue so smoothly? Just how many lies had this guy told?
The local was initially suspicious, but Du Hang's elegant speech, their decent clothes, and the still-damp, salt-encrusted fabric convinced him. They were welcomed into the village.
After a short while in the village tavern, Du Hang made an unfortunate discovery—the village had no seaworthy ships. The locals relied on passenger vessels that made occasional stops. For fishing, they only used small boats. Not a single large vessel in sight.
Awkward, to say the least.
Sure, in the original story, Luffy set out with nothing but a broken dinghy with no sail. But that guy was the protagonist—plot armor and all. Anyone else would've died from sunstroke, starvation, capsizing, or shark attacks.
Du Hang sipped his soda in silence. Roger leaned over, "Hey, Du Hang, what do we do now?"
"We're screwed… And why are you asking me? You're the captain. You're supposed to make the calls."
"Alright then, let's build a canoe!"
"Then you can go by yourself. I'm staying here and living out my retirement." Du Hang rolled his eyes. This guy really was on the same wavelength as Luffy—thinking the ocean was some backyard swimming pool.
Just then, a nearby fisherman turned around, beer in hand. "If you're looking for a ship, there is one on the west side of the island. Might barely be able to sail… but I doubt you'll get your hands on it."
"Why not?" Roger asked.
"Because the owner… well, let's just say he's formidable. And I doubt he'd be willing to part with it. That's all I'll say. You'll see for yourselves." With that, he downed his beer, patted his pants, and walked off.
"A formidable guy, huh? Now I'm interested! If he's cool, let's recruit him into the crew!" Roger said with excitement.
Du Hang, on the other hand, seemed deep in thought as if something had just clicked in his mind.