A Tale of the Past - Chapter 1 [Etarip/Zeek]

[etarip]

(OOC:
Summary: On Dance Island, Marine Joseph Carter finds himself on an unsought shore leave with no books or friends. While he contemplates over his misfortune, another Marine – Higure Takeshi – is slowly approaching the same island in a patrol ship led by Marine Lieutenant Geoff Wallace. Is everything as mundane as it seems?

This story occurs some months/years prior to the current storyline.

NPCs involved: Marine Geoff Wallace and Revolutionary Dan "The Chess Master" Grey.)

Chapter 1 - Beer and Loathing on Dance Island

As unusually large raindrops soaked Joseph Carter’s clothing, he repeated a phrase for the 13th time that evening: “You’ve got to be kidding me.” To make room for new recruits, Joseph Carter and a few other Marines had been requested to take a shore leave on Dance Island. Joseph had protested, but quickly discovered that the “request” was an order in disguise. Left with no other choice than to spend 4 days on the island – until another ship would pick them up – Joseph had spent the first two hours trying to find out if the island possessed archaeological dig sites or ruins that he could study. The drunken inhabitants of Minatsuki Town were not very helpful in that regard. Most of them barely looked at him before they shrugged and moved on, while others pointed him to a popular brothel known as “The Ruins”. When he finally found someone reasonable, it turned out that the island was only recently settled, and that there was little of interest for an archaeologist. With no books or friends nearby, Joseph was certain that these 4 days would be hell.

Disappointed and apathetic over his situation, Joseph decided that he would find a good Inn and drink a local beer – rumored to be excellent – to relax. An inn would also provide him a welcome shelter from the endless rain that was about to drench him. After some walking, Joseph found himself at the door of an Inn named “The Fisherman’s Wife”. He first made sure that it was not another brothel by peeking carefully through the window, and then proceeded to open the door. The common room of the Inn was not impressive by any means, but there were few people present, and it had a fireplace, making it just perfect for Joseph’s purposes. The brown, wooden floors and roof made it a cozy shelter from the rain. Taking note of the saying “business before pleasure”, Joseph first spoke with the plump, middle-aged and redheaded woman who was the innkeeper of the Inn to make a reservation for 4 nights. When business was done, Joseph sat down at his table with a large mug of ale in his hand. Perhaps this would become a pleasant evening after all?

Soon enough, the alcohol began to overwhelm the feeling of loathing towards the boring Dance Island. Throughout the evening, Joseph had listened in on a conversation between 4 men in matching brown coats who sat near a window not far from him. Feeling a little tipsy, the conversation had transformed into something more exciting in his mind. One of the men coughed and spoke with a clear voice to his companions: “Snowball is approaching this island as we speak. In two hours, I want four friends ready at the docks. But keep out of sight, the sheep must not see you.” Joseph had realized that the men were speaking in code, but only now began questioning why they did so. Who or what was “Snowball”? Without warning, the men in brown coats stood up, shook hands, and started walking towards the door, the floor creaking as they marched. Without thinking, Joseph crabbed his coat and approached the door which the men had just walked through. “I’ll be back soon,” he politely told the innkeeper, and rushed out. Rain was still falling heavily outside, making it hard to see far in the darkness. Luckily, Joseph saw the silhouette of the leader of the company he had eavesdropped on walking down the street that would take him west; closer to the center of the island.

Though Joseph was already regretting his decision, he began following the man.

[Badman Zeek]

Splash.

The sound could be heard in immeasurable quantities. It'd had been raining for quite some time now, and the tears show no signs of letting up. The Heavens cried, drenching the world in its sorrow. Even the seas were still with heartache. And overhead dark clouds maintained their composure casting and overbearing shadow on the earth below. The world was grim today and nothing would suffice in cheering its mood. The feeling had infected others too, spreading like a plague from one person to the next. Until Higure found himself alone as the only person on the vessel who's disposition went unchanged.

He was truly something. Even when the world he lived in demanded a particular expectation, he could not; would not fall in suit. The whims of the world were equivalent to those of an ant. They were both irrelevant to him and did nothing more beyond failing to ascertain an appropriate amount of attention from him. So he continued, extending and contracting his muscles with each pose his body made. He rotated his hips and shifted his weight, raising his leg up with ferocity.

Swoosh...

The limb split the air, collecting droplets along its path. This was great, a way to ease his boredom while maintaining his daily routine. Across the deck his physique moved about, striking against the air and rain. He held back none as he danced along the soaked boards; he himself wet as the sea below. Higure could recall him doing the same a few months ago, before he had accepted the offer to join the Marines. On a night just as sad as this one he trained, soaked head to toe, he continued to push his body and mind to become stronger. This time was no different, except he was now on a patrol ship heading to Dance Island.

Higure had heard a few things about the place as a child, but had never thought he'd be headed to the island. But it was his job now, and he accepted it with ease. He was finally out on active duty. He'd been assigned under some Lieutenant named Wallace. He didn't know much about the man, but found their first encounter and those to follow to be rather boring and uninteresting. The man had nothing unique to offer about himself. There was nothing more irrelevant than that which held no meaning or purpose, and the Lieutenant was just that.

At least that was what Higure thought to himself as he relaxed his movements, taking a break from the activity to observe their whereabouts. His intense gaze scanned what was in the distance, piecing together the appearance of a lighthouse and docks. It was only minutes until the ship would reach port so the call went out; bringing life back into the once silent vessel.

Higure moved into position, working with his peers to reduce the speed of their approach. Elsewhere some other group was working towards getting supplies together for departure the moment the arrived.

[teal]"Be sure to bring get the cargo down below as well."[/teal] Higure heard the order go out. Though it was directed at others, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of shipment was on board. He hadn't been informed of it when assigned to the patrol. Oh well, he had his own things to attend to. They'd finally arrived, and he saw Wallace appear on deck. Something felt different as he glanced towards the Lieutenant. Even in the dark with all the rain Higure was sure he saw that uninteresting man smiling.

But for what reason.....

For now that didn't matter. It was trivial by far, especially now that it was time for him to retrieve his belongings from the barracks. So he left deck, retreating into the ship to seek out his personal effects, and most importantly his shirt. It'd be very unprofessional to arrive topless.

[etarip]

Somewhere in the inland wildlands between Minatsuki town and Sakemura village, rain had been replaced by the sudden onset of a heavy mist. Joseph tried his best to navigate through the woods consisting of – when seen enveloped by thick mist – ghost-like pine trees, but the mist was making it increasingly difficult to continue his pursuit. The silhouette of the man he had been following was waning by the minute, and Joseph knew that soon he would have to make the difficult choice of either confronting the man, or abandoning the pursuit. Faced with this dilemma, a memory came to him.

________________________________________________

The sunset brought forth a light shade of red to the horizon of Baterilla Island. Joseph and Bart Archer sat on sturdy wooden chairs, parasols hanging over them, and admired the view in silence. Joseph felt at peace. To him, Bart was a friend and mentor, and during the four weeks he had visited the Carter family estate, Joseph had learned more about archaeology than he could have imagined possible. Only a few days ago, Bart had given him a rather intriguing article. The article, published in the Ohara Journal of Progressive Archaeology (a publication he had never heard of) for over 30 years ago, was written by a Professor Clover, and was indeed progressive – on the border of radical. It was the kind of article he knew his parents would not approve of, but one from which Joseph had learned much. Apparently it was one of the few articles left from this mysterious Ohara. How Bart had come by it, Joseph did not know. When he had inquired Bart on the subject, the man had mumbled something unintelligible which included the words “black market”.

“Do you know what I regret most, Joseph?” Bart suddenly asked, his eyes still firmly focused on the red horizon. “I was asked to join an…expedition to the New World. But for petty reasons of fear and cowardice, I did not,” he continued, his facial expression colored by a subtle hint of regret. “Can you imagine what marvelous travels and adventures I lost when I refused? Today I give you your final lesson before leaving Baterilla: accept every possibility for knowledge and adventure, no matter how much you fear the consequences.”

__________________________________________________

Joseph smiled to himself over the fond memory, now ready to make a decision. From his backpack, he swiftly reached for his flintlock pistol. The hard wood and metal that made up the pistol felt familiar in his hands. The pistol had served as a useful friend for the entirety of his Marine career, and he hoped it would not fail him today. Flintlock pistol in hand, Joseph darted after the silhouette in the distance. Without warning, the silhouette disappeared. Joseph felt a minor burst of panic fill his head, but continued forward. The minor burst of panic then transformed into true distress and swift heartbeats, as he noticed that his left foot was no longer on solid ground. He was falling. Dumb luck and reflex made him reach with both hands towards the direction he had come from. His hands clung to solid stone. That had been a close call.

Joseph fought his way up the cliff. When he finally reached the top, he was tired, cold sweat running down his every side. He deduced that he had arrived at the western shore of the island, somewhere south of Sakemura. As he regaining his composure and ease-of-mind, Joseph discovered that the mist was lifting. On the waters just in front of the cliff, he saw something unexpected: a relatively large ship stood parked on the water. It hoisted no flags, but Joseph could see light shining brightly from many of the windows. He could also hear muffled voices coming from the ship. Thoughts ran wildly through his mind: Why was a large ship hiding at the western banks of the island? How was the ship connected to “Snowball”? What the heck was going on?

Before he could consider any of the questions, he felt the butt of a rifle ram the back of his head. Then he fell unconscious.

[Badman Zeek]

Remembering how to maneuver the interior of the ship was quite a challenge. From time to time he'd make a wrong turn or two; a left where he should have gone right. All in all he did well to remember the layout to know when he was not where he intended to be, granted this was his first time traveling on this ship. Higure did his best to remain observant and watchful, trying to pick up on the most minuscule of details that set this party from others he had been amongst. Things were quite different, which was to be expected, but he couldn't help but feel that something was completely off.

Especially with Lieutenant Wallace.

The man was just too average to be within the Marines. Nothing stood out about him, aside from the fact that he was far too uninteresting. So far every person Higure had met had something unique about them that would set them aside from another person. This man did not. It was strange, and the thought forced Higure's brows to furrow in contemplation as he retraced his steps from a wrong turn he had made. For now his focus returned to gathering his belongings as he approached the barracks and located his bunk. He quickly threw his white button-down shirt on. It was long sleeved but Higure had a habit of rolling the sleeves up to his forearms. People often questioned why he didn't just wear short sleeves. It was a valid question, why didn't he? Who knew. It was something different that he did.

Speeding up the process once he had slipped a few buttons through their respective holes along the lower half of his shirt, Higure packed any remaining items into a single dufflebag that also had his clothes and made his return topside.

He had taken one step onto the deck when his instincts screamed inside. The sight of the shore still being quite far away had taken his mind by surprise. His composure quickly regained, but his mind was now flooded with questions he sought to answer. But before he could progress from the doorway a hand shot out from behind and grabbed his wrist, forcing his attention back into the inside of the ship. Locating the source of the hand Higure met the eyes of a female officer he had met during their departure from base back on Jreum Island. Her name didn't come to mind but he recognized her face despite the look of terror in now wore.

Something was wrong and he wanted to ask what, but she held a finger to her lips before turning and leading him deeper within the ship. They retreated rather far before she broke the silence. [pink]"D-d-don't go back out th-there..."[/pink] Her voice was shaken, obviously due to some fear she had about whatever was going on outside. But what exactly was going on? Higure nodded in agreement before seeking answers.

"What do you know?"

She hesitated for a moment trying to find the best way explain her thoughts. Within the past five minutes she's wandered into territory she was completely unprepared for.[pink]"I was gathering some supplies from the medical wing to take with me once we departed for land, when I overheard some guys talking about defecting and joining up with some man once we reached the island. I thought it was just a joke at first, but when I stepped back out on deck I saw the ship had stopped moving which never happens when we are on patrol."[/pink] She was just some nurse tasked with helping out the crew by providing base level first aid should a conflict ensue. But now she was beginning to dread her decision to continue going out with ships on patrol. Why did the ship stop? was this really some sort of organized defection?

She didn't know, but she knew who Higure was. After all the recruit was well known amongst those he had enlisted and gone through training with. Out of everyone on the crew the dedicated warrior surely would have no part in such treachery. But even still neither of them were safe so long as the traitors wore the same uniform as their own who could really be trusted.

Without additional words the thoughts were received by Higure. He realized why she had come to him and acknowledged the help she required. Neither of them knew how many traitors were among them, but if the ship had stopped by some force of theirs' in such a small time frame surely the rebellion had considerable numbers. "Well, since we can't say for certain how many are against us and what they intend to do you should probably go-"

[teal]"HEY!! We have some stragglers over here!"[/teal]

Shit. It seems they had less time than he had hoped. Now they had been spotted by a family face that held traitorous intentions. Not that Higure and the nurse had made much of an effort to conceal themselves. After all they were only partially obscured by a large shipping crate. Regardless the man was approaching with additional arms. Higure felt his body move, positioning itself between the frightened woman behind him and those who could potentially cause them harm.

"What exactly do you want with us?" Higure spoke, trying to engage them in conversation so that he could think of a solution. They were outnumbered and he was pretty sure the nurse couldn't defend herself. Sigh..."What did I get myself into now?" He thought, construing his face to match his confusion.

[teal]"Questions may or may not be answered later, for now you need to remain calm and come with us. We don't want any problems, we're just trying to do our jobs."[/teal]

There was no point in trying something against them right now, it wouldn't get Higure anywhere. Turning back he motioned for the nurse to come along. His face baring shame as he watched her walk towards the men, he too falling in with their group. He would not fail to atone for the situation at hand, he just hoped things would remain as calm as they were now.

[etarip]

The unconsciousness that followed a knock-out was nothing like sleep. None of the benefits or pleasantries associated with sleep were present, and the feeling of returning to consciousness was certainly a lot worse than waking up. Joseph’s mind attempted to reach the surface several times during the two hours that followed the knock-out, and each time he heard distant voices speaking about him, about Snowball and other subjects that his mind could not interpret in his condition. In the course of these “attempts” to wake up, one voice was especially prevalent: a weak and shrilly male voice, speaking of how “Snowball” would be the first piece to fall, followed by many others. It was the same voice that eventually woke him.

“What do we have here? A lowly Marine wandering alone in the wilderness? Pretty stupid of you to stalk my officer without backup, I must say,” the man smirked as he spoke, a torrent of spit flying out of his mouth every time he spoke. Strangely enough, the stream of spit awakened Joseph more and more. “We all know that Marines cannot achieve anything when not in large flocks or when faced with a stronger opponent. Well, that’s a sort of strategy, I suppose, so perhaps I cannot blame you for that. But I can blame you for butchering innocents to reach your objectives, and I can blame you for the stupidity of the Marine organization.” The man’s smirk had turned into a grin, but in his eyes, Joseph saw nothing but anger. As his senses returned to him, Joseph initially noticed that the floor was rocking lightly and the gas lamp on the roof was swinging. From this information, he could easily conclude that he was on the ship he had seen before being knocked out. Before him stood the grinning man. The man had a peculiar suit covered in what seemed the squares of a chessboard. It was a bizarre sight, and Joseph rubbed his eyes several times to see if his eyesight was impaired. Unfortunately, it was not. He then noticed the pale complexion of the man and his large head. The grinning man was perhaps the most bizarre creature he had met in South Blue. “Who are you? What to do you want?” Joseph inquired with a weak voice while trying to stand. He stumbled once, but finally gained footing with the support of his arms. The bleak man looked at the two men in brown coats that Joseph noticed stood by the door, his grin turning into a smirk once again. Then the man turned to him: “I guess there’s no harm in telling you. Since you’ll be dead in exactly one hour.” The man bared his yellowish teeth at Joseph, and raised his left hand in the air. The gesture was some sort of signal, as it was followed by one of the men in brown coats pacing towards Joseph. With no warning, the man raised a syringe that held some sort of clear liquid, and went for Joseph’s arm. In his dazed condition, there was nothing he could do. The needle punctured his skin somewhere below the elbow, and boy did it hurt. Joseph managed a soft yell of agony before the man with the syringe finished and kicked Joseph hard in his abdomen. He felt the air go out of his lungs and fell awkwardly on the wooden floor. Meanwhile, the pale man coughed to clear his throat, and started his speech as if it was a formal occasion. It was apparent from his body language that this man was neither used to, nor a fan of, public speaking;

“We are Revolutionaries, lowly Marine. And today, another piece of my grand puzzle falls into place effortlessly. A Marine lieutenant, leading a small troop and carrying a shipment of medicine, will join our cause. Soon, South Blue will belong to us entirely. Since your road is at an end, I will tell you the name of your executioner. I am Dan Grey, the Chess Master, master tactician among the Revolutionaries. For you, it is an honor to be killed by someone like me. Such inferior creature…Enjoy the hour you have left.”

At that moment, Joseph started seeing pink elephants. At first they leered at him with their illogically large mouths, and then they started dancing. All the pink elephants in the room danced with their front legs up in the air. It was a bizarre scene, and it made Joseph giggle like a child. The pink elephants were accompanied by Marine soldiers, tossing away their uniforms and replacing them with the same brown coats that the two men in the room were wearing. It took a while before Joseph realized that all of it was a hallucination created by the liquid that had been injected into his veins. The drug was now rampaging within the confines of his mind, scrambling everything it came over. Was this really how his life was going to end? By some lethal injection which caused massive hallucinations? He fought hard to rationally analyze his options. Sadly, the battle brought only the realization that he was indeed going to die.

About 30 minutes had gone by when Joseph registered that the ship had anchored once again. His hallucinations had grown in both intensity and strangeness, and it was by chance that he noticed the lack of movement. And frankly, Joseph could care less: he was as good as dead. With a mixture of tears, snot and sweat running down his cheeks, he thought about his family, about his mentor Bart Archer, about his dreams and hopes, about the mystery that he had yet to see.

“Bring in the prisoners! Let them share room with the dying Marine,” Joseph heard one of the guards say. But it did not matter. He was done for. There would be no doctor willing to aid him anywhere nearby. The end had come.

[Badman Zeek]

Things were becoming itchy.

His body was growing impatient, eager to strike out and free himself and the nurse from their captures. He was not one who could be detained. Even if he allowed his mind to accept the circumstances, the feeling of being forced to walk down several halls within the ship they were on, irritated his body. His instincts. Heaven and earth had waged war within him. His mind observing the battle from a distance, while his body provided the field in which fibers of his being tore each other limb from limb. The cascading blood trickling into his soul, filing him with the taste of both forces.

This was far from normal.

Higure was not one for teetering on one side of the moral compass or the other. No, he was the malevolent phenomenon that lay waste to such distinct alignments, standing as his own. What he did, how he reacted, and when he had done so, was decided by him and not some life lesson passed on by others, whose origin's have long since been lost in the sands of time. They—were gone, or they should have been. But now as Higure bid his time, composing a solution to the dilemma, he was warned by their voices not to act on his own; he had to consider the well being of the woman who had sought him out. The nurse, a young lady no older than himself, who, instead of seeking sanctuary for herself, came to him for help.

He was not without appreciation. If not for her, he may have wandered into an all out fight against those who now held them captive. The result, like those he had heard the men speak of, would have been Higure's death. To think, he was temporarily assigned to aid the crew of the ship in an investigation on Dance Island; yet here he was now, still aboard the ship without so much as touching the sands on the beach.

Unacceptable.

She felt bad, even though he had acknowledged to help her, he didn't have to allow himself to be captured. Kristie knew it was partially due to her presence. If she hadn't had gone to meet with him, he would have been able to fend for himself without worrying about anyone else. Not to mention he seemed sharp enough to have noticed the treachery taking place. "What have I done?" The nurse continued to doubt her actions, especially when she looked back to see the strained look on Higure's face.

What a mess this day had become. She was surprised when they had departed from Viktas and she saw the Marine nicknamed "Honey Badger" on board. She remembered his face quite well; strong and young, with eyes intent on setting flame to the sun itself. Even his body, so detailed and refined, threatened to destroy wreak havoc to anything standing in his way. Even the air, if intent on impeding his movements, would be torn from his path. A godsend amongst men; yet here he was betrayed by those he looked to as brothers, and held captive only out of concern for her well being.

[pink]"Higure, I am so sorry for getting you int—"[/pink], Kristie began, turning back to offer proper apology, but stopped at the sound of a gun being cocked.[teal]"No talking, please don't make this harder."[/teal] The man leading them back down into the ship spoke with sincerity, however the pistol he had drawn remained on her as re-positioned Kristie so that she stood in front of him, further away from Higure.

Their troop remained silent continuing until they were no longer in regions of the vessel that were recognizable to the young Marine. They traveled down a corridor with no end, that had nothing more than a threshold to a room along it's right wall. From the room lights leaked into the shadowed hall. As they approached voices became audible, and the Marine fake leading order the others to let Kristie and Higure into the room. At first glance familiar faces were acknowledged, identifying them as traitors as well. Among the faces was Lieutenant Wallace. It was apparent that he played a major role in the ship falling into the hands of traitors.

But he wasn't in charge.

As much as his body yearned to strike Wallace as he moved into the room, Higure's eyes had been fixated on the large head, pale skinned man wearing a peculiar suit that stood out compared to the rest. He was the one, the one in charge of whatever scheme was going on. The puppeteer who sought to attach his mischievous strings to Higure. If even possible, the young Marine's gaze intensified as he looked into the face of the man he assumed responsible for everything.

Kristie was lead into the room first, guided by the guy who had threatened moments before. Her head held in shame and fear of what was going to transpire this far deep within the ship. Were she and Higure going to be held captive for much longer, stuck in the depths of this dreadful vessel? Or would the be killed and left to rot aboard a ship at sea, never to set foot upon earth again? No matter what she was frightened by her imagination of what fate had been set before her.

She hadn't noticed it the moment they entered the room, but there was a disturbing sound coming from somewhere on the floor. she looked to seek the source only to see a Marine, one not assigned to the ship, cringing on the floor with sweat, tears, and snot running down his face. But there was something more disturbing about the sight than seeing a man, yet alone a Marine crying; his pupils were dilated, and according to their captures he was dying. But not from something natural, he looked like he was suffering from some sort of reaction. [pink]" W-whats wrong with him?"[/pink] She asked, disregarding her warnings to stay quiet and addressing all the men in the room; most of whom she'd seen once or twice aboard the ship.

Kristie wanted to help, but may have spoken in haste. She didn't even know if the man who had grasped her interest was a victim like she and Higure, or if he was part of this whole operation. Did it really matter though? Her job was to save lives and provide aid to those she could.

Meanwhile Higure just stood, uninterested in everything except Wallace and the man in the checkered suited.

[etarip]

Joseph woke to two familiar sounds. The first sound was the cawing of seagulls, a sound ever present during sea voyages and harbor stays. It was a sound that Joseph associated with both departure and arrival. The second sound was the melody of sea waves caressing the hull of a ship. The melody was one he was lucky enough to have the pleasure of knowing intimately, having completed several patrol-voyages with the Marines during his years in service. In contrast to the cawing of seagulls, the pummeling of waves upon the hull of a ship was associated with the journey itself. Together, these two sounds formed the parts of a story: departure, journey and arrival. As Joseph used his left hand to cover his eyes from the bright sun that shone from the window, he wondered what kind of story he was in.

In his groggy condition, it took a considerable amount of time before Joseph was able to both think clearly and move his body. Fragments of memories from the day before returned to him at first. Piecing together some of the fragments, he knew that he had been captured by Revolutionaries while on shore leave at Dance Island. He had been careless, and had nearly paid for the mistake with his life. The strange creature calling himself “The Chess Master” had injected Joseph with some kind of advanced poison and then left him to die in his own company. The drug had possessed some unusually powerful qualities, one of these the ability to cause massive hallucinations in the victim. Joseph shivered as he recollected the terrible feeling of helplessness that had accompanied the pain, immobilization and the hallucination. The distress was washed away by confusion: how was Joseph still alive?

As his senses returned to him, Joseph squinted at the blurry outlines of what appeared to be other people. There were two other individuals in his room. One of the characters sat on the bench near the window, her petite size and slim figure telling Joseph that it was a young woman. The other one was bulkier, with toned muscles that were incredibly enough visible with Joseph’s impaired eyesight. With a barely audible voice, Joseph weakly inquired: “Who are you? What happened?” More and more of Joseph’s sight returned to him, and he could see the features of the small woman. She seemed ill, occasionally coughing and apparently running a slight fever, judging from her feverish look. She turned to him: “We’re prisoners too…Marines captured by Wallace and his gang. Before I enclose any more information to you, please prove to us that you’re not one of them.” The fear in her voice told him that the woman was experiencing some personal crisis or turmoil. It was just an instinct, but Joseph made the guess that she was more worried about something else than their imprisonment. The stern and uninvolved look on the other man’s face confirmed his suspicion. There was some conflict or disagreement between them. “I’m Joseph Carter of B-2, Warrant Officer, identity number B-7390-TKG. I was on shore leave at Dance Island when they captured me. I think their murder attempt is sufficient proof that I’m not with them?” he mumbled in answer, the muscles in his face still trying to adjust to the conscious state of being. He gazed warily at the man standing at the back of the room. The Marine’s eyes were distant and serious, and Joseph wondered what the man was thinking. The woman coughed several times before she replied: “Alright, Joseph, I’ll trust you for now…As to your second question: I erased the virus from your blood using my Devil’s Fruit abilities.” Joseph was grateful, and a little bit perplexed. All the Devil’s Fruits he had read about or seen in action held powers that were used to empower oneself. The power of expelling virus from other persons was definitely a power that seemed exclusively altruistic in nature. How could anyone use the power of healing to do damage? Though he knew no details of the powers the woman had, the realization that there might be such Devil’s Fruits out there made Joseph excited. “How mysterious this world is…I thank you, friend, from the bottom of my heart. I was not far from death.”

Without warning, the door to the cell opened, quirking loudly. In came three men wearing brown jackets and pointing rifles exclusively at the woman. One of them, whom Joseph recognized to be the Revolutionary who had administered the poison the day before, spoke with a raspy voice: “The boss wants to see ya. Come along now.” As the party of three was led down the hallway, Joseph barely managed to stand. He wobbled between the walls, the rocking of the ship increasing his discomfort. After what seemed like a fifteen minute walk, the three Marines reached a larger room with benches and tables all over the floor. It was the kitchen of the ship. Standing on one of the tables was the “Chess Master”, a large-headed and pale-skinned Revolutionary officer who Joseph knew to be a sadistic and evil monster. The chess-board suit he wore only accentuated his weirdness. On the table was a large map of South Blue. Several Revolutionary soldiers surrounded the table, their facial expressions stone-like. With a shrilly voice, the Chess Master began:

“Welcome! Precious guests. I hope you’ve rested and are ready for the trials that await tomorrow. What trials, you ask? Tomorrow we land on Aityaia Island, where our new combat specialist, Higure Takeshi, will assassinate a few people for us. If not, the nurse dies. So I hope you can do it, hahaha! As for the lowly Marine who miraculously survived our toxin…I want to see if your luck holds up. Inside one of the jungles of Aityaia Island, I will send one of my bodyguards – a well-known hunter by profession – after you. If you can escape or defeat him, then we know that you have more luck than normal people. My heart pounds with excitement! Now eat and gain some strength, my dear guests”

Plates and glasses with food and drink were laid out for them. The fragrance of the steaks on the plates was so good that Joseph’s stomach growled. Though disgusted with the Chess Master’s plan, Joseph could only focus on the food. Later, he would have to consider the Revolutionary movement’s plans, and most importantly: how to survive the encounter he would be facing tomorrow. He hoped that he would be able to discuss the situation with Higure and the nurse soon.

THE END

To be continued in "A Tale of the Past - Chapter 2"