Wicked_Fiction
patreon
One Piece: As Heavy as a Gale #153
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 11:16:47 +0000 UTCStanding at the shore with Blamenco, Gale’s eyes still held that ridiculous, stunned gleam—the kind a man gets when he realises he’s accidentally inherited a small country.
His ship bobbed lazily in the distance, a speck of home and trouble both.
Even after handing Blamenco twenty-five percent, Risa ten, and Ebri five (which felt like the noble thing to do and also the only way to keep Ebri from inventing a “science tax”), the remaining sixty percent still glittered in his head like a taunt.
It was enough to buy a kingdom, maybe two. Or a lot of taverns. Or a very uncomfortable prison for anyone who pissed him off.
Blamenco’s voice pulled him back. “So… what’ll you do now, lad?”
Gale shrugged, looking at the horizon as if it were a menu. “Change the world.”
The pirate’s laugh was half disbelief, half the kind of amusement you give a madman with a shiny hat. “Change the world, you say? Bold. But—what makes you think you’ll be any different? Plenty try. Few do anything but make a bigger mess.”
Gale’s grin widened into something almost dangerous in the sunlight. “Because I know what makes the world spin.”
Blamenco’s brow creased. “Enlighten me then.”
“I’m not going to change the world with speeches,” Gale said, voice low enough you could almost taste the resolve in it. “I’m not going to march into Mary Geoise waving a flag or try to teach Celestial Dragons manners between their afternoon horse-whippings. That’s noble and poetic and worth dying for—if you don’t mind dying.”
He leaned on the rail, eyes narrowing to the quick glint of coin in his mind. “You want to crack the world open? You buy the hinges. Influence, money, leverage—those things move people faster than morals or muscle. Bribe the right clerk. Fund an investigation.”
“Start a rumor at the right cafe. Buy the printing press that prints the truth nobody else will print. Create safe havens for the people governments pretend don’t exist. You don’t fix an engine by yelling at it. You replace the broken parts.”
Blamenco snorted, but something unreadable passed over his features. “Dangerous people like their doors locked, lad, and they have more money than you... and a lot of people who are willing to do their bidding.”
“Then we buy a crowbar,” Gale said, cheerful as a man picking a fight with destiny. “Or better yet, we buy a whole workshop that makes crowbars, and then we buy the smugglers who’ll carry them. Money opens doors, lad. It buys time, secrecy, and the kind of chaos that makes a puppetmaster slip up.”
Risa, who had been quietly watching from the sand with arms crossed, barked a half-skeptical laugh. “Translation: you mean you’ll throw money at the problem until something useful explodes.”
“Accurate,” Gale replied. “Also efficient.”
Blamenco folded his arms and regarded Gale like a man looking at a match that might burn his beard off—or light the sky. “So what’s step one?”
Gale pulled a coin from his pocket, letting it roll lazily between his fingers. The sunlight caught on its surface, cutting a sharp, golden line through the air before flicking across his smirk.
“Step one,” he said, voice calm but carrying that familiar edge of mischief, “is to visit a friend. The kind of friend with a prosperous kingdom at his back… and convince him to see things my way.”
He flipped the coin once, caught it, and tucked it back into his palm with a grin. “Step two is making more friends like that. I’ve got a lot of money, sure—but it won’t be enough.”
Blamenco hummed low in his throat, folding his arms. “And what then?”
Gale’s gaze turned back toward the horizon, the sea wind brushing through his hair as he spoke. “Then,” he said, “I’ll use every bit of gold I’ve gathered to build something that matters. An invaluable service for the people shunned by the system—the ones no one else bothers to help.”
He chuckled quietly. “It’ll make me more gold… and give me allies I can call on when the time comes.”
Blamenco’s brows lifted slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “And then?” he pressed. “What do you plan to do with all the gold and allies you’ve piled up?”
Gale looked at him, grin sharpening like a blade catching light. “Then I wait,” he said simply. “For the inevitable. For the moment when the system starts to crumble under its own arrogance… and that’s when I strike. Not just with force—but with connections, with influence, and with enough gold to sink a few islands under its sheer weight.”
For a long moment, Blamenco just stared at him—then threw his head back and let out a booming laugh that rolled across the shore like thunder. “Ha! Sounds like a flight of fancy to me, lad,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “But I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.”
He shook his head fondly, then sighed. “As for me, I’ll take our cut and give it to the old man. Maybe he’ll finally stop trying to steal our booze.”
Without another word, Blamenco stepped toward the surf, the sand crunching under his heavy boots. He reached for the stitched pocket beneath his neck, unfastened it, and—like pulling a miracle from thin air—retrieved an entire sloop, neatly folded by his devil fruit power.
With a grunt, he hurled it into the water. The small ship splashed down and bobbed lightly with the tide.
“I’ll be seeing you, lad,” Blamenco called out, climbing aboard and beginning to work the ropes, his wide grin visible even from afar.
“Not anytime soon!” Gale shouted back, laughter in his voice as he took a few steps into the surf.
Then, with a push of his heel and a flash of motion, he vaulted forward—skimming over the waves in rapid leaps, skipping across the surface like a stone, each step sending up a spray of salt and sunlight.
...
As Gale landed on the deck with a thud and a spray of seawater, he was met with a sight that somehow summed up his entire crew in one image.
Ebri sat cross-legged on a crate, spectacles halfway down his nose, scribbling furiously in a small weathered notebook. His lips moved silently, muttering notes only he could understand.
Beside him, Risa sat on the floor, a small chest of gold coins in her lap, gleefully scooping up handfuls of treasure and letting them fall back through her fingers like rain.
The rhythmic clink, clink, clink of gold filled the air like music.
Gale crossed his arms, watching for a moment before clearing his throat loudly.
Both heads snapped toward him—Ebri blinking owlishly, Risa freezing mid-drop, a few coins bouncing off her knee and rolling across the deck.
“Alright, you two,” Gale said, alternating his gaze between them like a disapproving parent catching his kids red-handed. “Playtime’s over. It’s time to set sail. You’ve both got more money than sense now—so, what’s next? Decided what you’re gonna do?”
Risa leaned back on her hands, still grinning. “Well,” she said with a shrug, “I’ve got all this gold now. So obviously, I need to start spending it.” Her gaze flicked toward the horizon. “And something tells me Sphinx Island isn’t exactly the shopping capital of the world.”
Gale smirked. “You don’t say.”
Ebri, still scribbling notes, didn’t even look up. “As for me,” he began, “I don’t particularly care where we go, so long as it’s peaceful and quiet enough for me to continue my research.”
He turned a page, his pen scratching furiously. “You see, I still need to catalogue the biological and chemical samples I gathered from Mystoria. After that, I’ll compile my findings into a comprehensive publication before beginning a secondary study—specifically, on the potential applications of the island’s flora in alchemy, medicine, and industrial—”
“Hold it right there, you old fart.” Gale raised a hand, face blank. “I didn’t ask for a science lecture. I just wanna know if you’re coming along or staying behind.”
Ebri slowly turned his gaze up from the notebook, fixing Gale with a look that could curdle milk. “You youngsters,” he scoffed, his beard shaking, “no appreciation for the scientific process. No patience for knowledge.”
He shook his head in disappointment, muttering something about the decline of intellectual standards.
“Anyway,” he continued after a pause, “Sphinx Island is a fine place, but not exactly ideal for my work. I’d prefer somewhere more… prosperous. Somewhere with stable supply lines and reliable trade routes—just in case I need to acquire certain reagents or equipment for my research.”
Gale shrugged casually. “Well, lucky for you two then,” he said, turning toward the helm with that familiar smirk spreading across his face, “we’re heading to the Vashiri Archipelago.”
Risa blinked. “The what now?”
“The Vashiri Archipelago,” Gale repeated, gripping the wheel as the sails began to catch the wind. “A kingdom of marble, canals, and silk. World Government territory. Fancy enough for you to spend gold on dumb things, and connected enough for Ebri to get all his fancy test tubes.”
Ebri’s brows lifted in pleasant surprise. “Hmm. That… might actually work.”
Risa’s grin widened, gold coins glinting between her fingers. “Now that’s more like it.”
Gale’s smirk turned sharper, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Good. Then hang on tight. We’ve got a long way to go—and I’ve got plans waiting on the other side.”
The sails filled, the ship groaned to life, and the sea opened before them—shimmering under the sun as they set off toward new trouble, new schemes, and the next chapter of chaos.
Comments
Kenough
Peak
