The East Blue rolled lazily beneath a clear sky, the sea stretching in all directions like a sheet of sapphire silk. A modest ship, patched in places and bound by makeshift rope, sliced through the waves. Its crimson sail fluttered like a flag of rebellion.
Shanks leaned against the mast, carefree as always, humming a tune with a bottle in hand.
"We need to name this beauty," he said with a grin. "Something fearsome—like Red Leviathan!"
"No," came the flat reply.
Ankit stood at the bow, the wind tugging at his cloak. Two swords were crossed on his back, glinting faintly in the sun. His eyes scanned the horizon—not for beauty, but for danger.
"'Red Leviathan' sounds like something a drunk fisherman would name."
Shanks scoffed. "Oi, you've got no imagination, Vice-Captain!"
"I have plenty," Ankit muttered. "Just no interest in ridiculous names."
Shanks laughed harder.
Despite their light banter, Ankit's mind was elsewhere.
[System Notification: New Skill Quest Unlocked]
"Rust Has Its Price"
— Condition: Engage a seasoned pirate in live combat
— Reward: +1 Dual Sword Proficiency
— Bonus: Land the finishing blow
— Bonus Reward: Twin Flash Step (Lv. 1)
He stared at the glowing text only he could see—hovering in a soft blue near the edge of his vision.
And as always... he said nothing.
Shanks didn't know about the system. No one did.
And Ankit intended to keep it that way.
This world was cruel and chaotic. Even Shanks—carefree as he was—couldn't be burdened with something so... strange.
And besides, the system wasn't all-powerful.
It offered guidance, yes. Hints. Occasionally, unlockable skills.
But Ankit still bled.
He still tired.
He still had to earn every inch of strength.
It didn't make him a monster. It just gave him a direction.
They arrived at a crooked island near dusk. A splintered dock greeted them, and beyond that: a fishing village that had seen better days. Faded signs, boarded windows, and half-sunk boats lined the shore.
Shanks stretched. "Place looks friendly."
"It looks like it was looted twice and rebuilt once," Ankit said.
"Great! Then they'll have a tavern at least."
Ankit stepped off the boat without a word.
Shanks stayed behind, humming.
Crabjaw Point, as the island was once called, had the air of desperation. But voices echoed near the center—rough, violent, and drunk.
Ankit followed them.
They led to a half-lit tavern filled with shattered tables and loud curses. Inside, a giant man with a rusted saber and a jagged iron hook towered over a group of terrified patrons.
"Name's Hookjaw Brego!" he roared. "This island belongs to me!"
No one dared challenge him.
No one... except Ankit.
He stepped through the door, cloak trailing like a whisper.
"That saber of yours," he said quietly. "Looks like it hasn't tasted a real duel in years."
The room froze.
Brego blinked, then sneered. "What's that? You insultin' me, boy?"
"I'm challenging you."
Steel rasped. The tavern emptied.
Outside, Shanks leaned casually on the wall, sipping from a wooden bowl of stew.
Inside, blades screamed.
Brego charged like a boar, swinging his rust-covered blade.
Ankit parried, barely keeping balance.
[Alert: Enemy Strength = Intermediate Tier]
Win Condition: Outlast + Counterattack Opportunities
The system wasn't giving him shortcuts. It never did. Just data. Possibilities.
And still—he had to react.
Brego's hook grazed his shoulder.
Blood trickled.
Pain seared.
He gritted his teeth.
[Minor Injury Detected: Left Shoulder]
Ankit backed away, breathing hard. The tavern reeked of alcohol and sweat.
"Not so smug now, are ya?" Brego laughed. "You look like you're thinkin' too hard!"
Ankit didn't answer.
He simply adjusted his stance—low, centered. Two blades mirrored. One forward, one reverse grip.
This wasn't about domination.
It was about execution.
When Brego charged again, Ankit didn't move.
He waited.
Waited.
Then—flash.
A single slash. Two blades. One clean X.
Steel cracked. The saber split. Blood sprayed.
Brego fell, groaning in a pool of broken rust and ego.
[Quest Complete: Rust Has Its Price]
+1 Sword Proficiency (Dual Style)
Bonus Achieved: Twin Flash Step (Lv. 1) Unlocked
Ankit stood, chest rising and falling with effort. His arm throbbed. His leg was numb from impact. He wasn't some unstoppable warrior—not yet.
But he had grown. Barely.
And that was enough—for now.
Shanks peeked in, grinning. "All done?"
Ankit gave a slow nod.
Shanks whistled. "Guy had a face like a shipwreck. You rearranged it nicely."
"He wasn't strong," Ankit said, though his muscles disagreed.
Shanks slapped him on the back. "C'mon, Vice-Captain. Let's go loot the kitchen."
Ankit followed.
Silently.
That night, under a blanket of stars, Ankit lay on the ship deck, blades beside him, cloth wrapped around his wounded shoulder.
He stared into the sky, feeling the slow crawl of pain and growth.
The system whispered in the corner of his vision.
[Passive Stat Progression – Minor. Skill Cap: Not Yet Reached.]
Not yet.
But one day.
He would carve his name into this sea—not with hacks or instant mastery—but with every scar, every duel, every fight survived.
And no one would know why he got stronger.
Only that he did.
End of Chapter 2 – "Red Waves and Rusty Blades"
Next: Chapter 3 – "The Marine's Fang"