Fated Adventure.

As we sailed forward, the waves gently rocked the ship, a steady rhythm against the hull. The open sea stretched endlessly around us, the sun casting a golden glow over the horizon. It was a rare moment of peace, something I knew wouldn't last forever.

Ace lounged near the mast, his arms behind his head. "Gotta admit, this is nice. No crazy fights, no explosions—just smooth sailing."

Deuce, focused on navigation, nodded. "Let's hope it stays that way."

With nothing urgent demanding my attention, I finally decided to check out the locked chest in the captain's cabin. Stepping inside, I approached the sturdy wooden box sitting beside the desk. The lock was old but solid, its metal gleaming faintly in the dim light.

I knelt down, gripping the edges of the chest. No need for a key. Applying pressure, I tightened my grip—then pulled.

Crack!

The metal latch snapped like dry twigs under my fingers, and the lid creaked as I lifted it open. Inside, stacked neatly in rows, were gold bars—plain, unmarked, and simple. No secret maps, no ancient relics, just raw wealth.

Ace peeked in from the doorway and let out a low whistle. "Well, that's straightforward."

Deuce, now standing behind him, adjusted his glasses. "Gold is gold. We can sell it if we need to, or keep it for emergencies."

I closed the lid with a satisfied nod. "At least we won't be broke when we reach Sabaody."

Ace leaned against the doorframe, watching me. "You ever think about what you'd do if you weren't out here? If you weren't… y'know, strong?"

I glanced at him. "Not really. This path was always an option for me. What about you?"

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "I don't know. I never thought I'd be anything but a pirate. Growing up, I was just a wild kid running through forests, picking fights, and stealing food. Back then, I figured I'd either make a name for myself or die trying."

I caught the hint of something deeper in his voice, but he didn't elaborate. Instead, he smirked. "Guess I got lucky. Met people who actually gave a damn. Deuce, the old man, my brothers, even you guys."

I smirked back. "You'd probably still be eating rocks if I hadn't shown up."

"Hey! I was doing just fine," he shot back, but there was no real heat in his words.

Deuce shook his head. "Fine is debatable."

Ace chuckled before looking out at the horizon. "I'm not the type to dwell on the past. What matters is what we do next, right?"

I nodded. "Exactly."

—

The next few days passed surprisingly smoothly. The weather held clear, the wind stayed strong, and no unexpected enemies or sea monsters emerged from the depths. It was almost unsettling how easy the trip was.

"Is it just me," Deuce said one evening as he adjusted the ship's course, "or does it feel like things have been too quiet?"

Ace stretched lazily, perched on a barrel. "We could always set something on fire if you miss the chaos."

"I think we're overdue for some luck," I said, watching the horizon as the first hints of the Sabaody Archipelago came into view. The scattered mangrove trees rose from the sea like giants, their massive roots forming a natural maze.

Navigating through the unique landscape, we finally docked at one of the many groves. The air was thick with the scent of sea salt, exotic spices, and the ever-present hum of activity. Sabaody was a melting pot of pirates, bounty hunters, and shady merchants, all moving under the shadow of the looming Marine presence.

"We should be careful here," Deuce muttered as we stepped off the ship.

"Yeah, yeah," Ace said, waving him off. "Let's just find Rayleigh."

Winding through the bustling streets, asking a few cautious questions along the way, we eventually found our way to a small, tucked-away bar. Inside, sitting comfortably with a drink in hand, was the man himself—Silvers Rayleigh, former first mate of the Pirate King.

He looked up as we entered, his sharp eyes immediately taking us in. A knowing smile tugged at his lips.

"Well now," Rayleigh mused, swirling his drink. "What brings a bunch of young troublemakers to my doorstep?"

Rayleigh's gaze lingered on Ace for a moment longer than the rest of us, his smile deepening with a knowing glint in his eye. He set his drink down and leaned forward slightly.

"Well now," he mused, "this is interesting." His eyes narrowed in amusement. "You've got his face, you know."

Ace stiffened, his usual laid-back demeanor faltering for just a second. "What are you talking about, old man?"

Rayleigh chuckled. "Roger's son."

Silence settled over the bar like a heavy fog. Deuce inhaled sharply, and even I felt a slight tension in the air. Ace's fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to relax, letting out a slow breath.

"You gonna make a big deal about it?" he asked, voice steady but firm.

Rayleigh waved a hand dismissively. "Not at all. Your father was a hell of a man, but I won't pretend to know what kind of weight that puts on you. You're your own person, and that's all that matters."

Ace studied him for a moment, then sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Good. Last thing I need is people looking at me like I'm just his shadow."

Rayleigh simply smiled. "Now, what brings you all to my doorstep? You're clearly not just here to chat."

I stepped forward. "We want training. Haki, the Marine Six Styles—everything you can teach us."

Rayleigh raised an eyebrow. "Ambitious."

Ace grinned. "We wouldn't be here if we weren't."

Rayleigh hummed, leaning back in his chair. "Haki and the Six Styles, huh? It won't be easy. You sure you're ready for that kind of hell?"

I met his gaze evenly. "We wouldn't ask if we weren't serious."

Rayleigh chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright then. I'll train you. But don't expect me to go easy on you."

Ace smirked. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Deuce sighed. "This is probably going to hurt, isn't it?"

Rayleigh grinned. "Oh, absolutely."

And just like that, our next challenge had begun.