The Marine

Sailing into those neon lights the [Frontier Run] pulled into an artificial harbor that was so large it could easily dock forty galleon-class ships, joining in with the crew, not even Bill could help but to look at Gran Tesoro in awe.

[Gran Tesoro] was literally a floating metropolis, an otherworldly Las Vegas, Bill thought to himself.

“Oyabin, it’s so pretty! Oh, let’s get something nice!” squawked Porche as she hung on Foxy’s shoulder.

*Fefefe!* laughed Foxy and replied: “Now nowz, we’z have work to do…” then cutting Bill a side look continued: “… but maybe if we do a good job, we can stay to play a little while.”

Maybe Porche was the only one to say it openly, but Bill could tell that the entire crew felt the same way and so as they sailed past the ‘For Fun’ section of the harbor and entered the ‘For Work’ side, he had Nelson explained the rules for Shore Leave.

Firstly, there would be no leave until the main components needed to repair the ship were put in place.

Secondly, all crew members had to go in registered groups of no smaller than three and needed to report to a superior where they generally thought they’d be at.

Thirdly, fighting, public drunkenness, and excessive gambling were forbidden.

Fourthly, and finally, there would be a strict curfew of 2am without preapproval.

Violating any of these rules would result in the Marine being restricted to the limits of the ship, or in other words, anyone who broke those rules wouldn’t be allowed to leave the ship again.

With the rules clearly set out, as the ship was still nearing dock, many of the Marines began to assemble themselves into groups of between six and eight before filing their names with Borodo.

Implicit in these groups was that they were responsible for watching out for one another, and if one broke the rules, then they would all pay the consequences.

Generally against collective punishment, this was one form of it that Bill supported.

Obviously, it was Bill himself who would be doing the majority of the repair work, the only reason he had brought such a large number of new sailors was so that they could gain experience.

And though the journey so far wasn’t what he had in mind; it was undoubtedly the case that they had gotten more than what they bargained for during the fiasco caused by Mad Treasure.

But it wasn’t all bad, he reasoned, because despite being handed the hot potato that was [Pure Gold], his crew had miraculously not suffered a single KIA.

Though there were a number of injuries so severe it would take months to heal without Vegapunks medical technology, they had time, and plus, it turned out that the deadly [South Blue Emperor Fever] that had plagued Olga had a cure.

In addition to being able to confiscate the girls ring which contained a small piece of [Pure Gold], Bill added Acier to his retinue.

It wasn’t certain that the man would join his Department, but Acier and Olga had agreed to come live on New Haven – which meant that the island had gained perhaps the greatest chemist to ever live.

The value of having Acier, a chemist who literally created an elixir for eternal life, working on New Haven was itself worth more than all the treasure recovered from Mad Treasures ship.

And in some ways that included the benefits that Bill got himself from studying the [Pure Gold].

Granted that he hadn’t had it for very long, once he had gotten back on the ship and held the Pure Gold in his hands Bill almost immediately understood what Acier had meant when he claimed that it created a ‘perpetual state’.

[Pure Gold] had a shocking similarity to [Seastone], Bill had quickly realized.

Both materials affected a persons spirit, but whereas Seastone was a substance that strengthened reality, and in effect suppressed the souls of living beings, Pure Gold held steady the link between a beings Soul and the Logos which anchored them in reality.

The idea of an immortal soul was as old as ideas themselves, Bill thought.

Though the rituals of worshipping ones ancestors naturally differed in across Earth, the idea of a soul living past the body was ubiquitous across mankind, and it was almost perhaps the oldest abstract idea that human beings ever had.

In few words, given the experience of Acier and Olga, Bill understood that souls were indeed immortal, and the effects of the Pure Gold was to bleed that immortality into the real world.

Of course, this explanation raised other questions, and while he didn’t have time to see if he could recreate the effects on himself, at least it shed some light on how the material fundamentally worked.

And for now, with the Pure Gold securely placed inside Bill’s own Seastone-lined lockbox, that was enough for him.

Because as the Frontier Run pulled up to the dock that they had been instructed to, on the pier were Bill’s contacts.

It was a group of five human men, armed with pistols and dressed in tuxedos, together with a type of species that Bill had never seen before.

It was largely humanoid, and it looked male, but it’s head was perhaps twice the size of its body – making Bill wonder just how it’s mother gave birth to such a creature.

Standing still Bill eyed the group and surroundings as the final calls were sounded by the Marines who were responsible for securing the mooring lines, furling the sails, and tying down whatever else was needed before they anchored the ship in port.

Naturally, due to Gran Tesoro being a floating city they would not be able to ‘drop anchor’, but the docking process was followed through to the letter regardless of that.

The harbor itself was built with different size ships in mind, and the pier that the Frontier Run was directed to was only slightly lower than the ship deck, making it very simple to extend over the bridge and connect the two together.

With the Marines lined up and forming a line on each side, Bill walked down the slight incline followed closely by Nelson, Borodo, and Miyagi.

Holding an envelope with the work order inside, he was cut off from speaking by the large headed man who was holding files of his own.

*Suru Suru Suru*

“Marine Commodore William Ox, eh?” asked the big-headed fellow with a strange laugh, cutting his eyes across the Frontier Run before continuing: “And what do we have the pleasure of for your arrival? Your name doesn’t appear on the security register we have here.”

Bill didn’t know what security register the man was talking about, but this confusion was the reason he had brought the work order with him and taking the paperwork out from his envelope he responded clearly: “I am Commodore William Ox, Marine Science Division, here on a work permit to begin repairs on the cities main ballast pumps, along with resealing a portion of the cities hull.”

When Bill said this, the large headed man leaned to the side and whispered ‘give me the name for the laborer that Vegapunk sent over…’ into a device attached to his wrist.

His voice was quite low, and though it was nowhere near low enough for Bill not to hear it, it made the Marine think slightly higher of the man in front of him.

After a brief few seconds, the answer came over the mans earpiece and after looking over the work permit again, the large headed man handed it back saying: “You’re late. We expected work to start several weeks ago… Suru suru suru… but now that you’re here you can get to work.”

Then touching his own chest and talking with the same sly grin he had on his face the entire time, the man continued: “My name is Tanaka, Head of Security. As well as an Executive Member of Gran Tesoro.

Everything had already been put in place for you to start work, and while you’re at it, try some of our entertainment… I’m sure we have something that you’ve never experienced before.”

Standing in front of his three officers, Bill automatically didn’t like the bigheaded man in front of him, and for the first time really had the urge to read the thoughts of someone he didn’t have a justified cause for.

But holding to his own sense of morality, he didn’t.

He didn’t do it even as the man’s smile turned into a sneer and threateningly added: “Of course, no matter who you are, on Gran Tesoro all rules apply… and all stakes are final…”

In front of this kind of threat Bill didn’t ask if he ‘knew who he was’ or escalate anything.

After all, the strong don’t need to run their mouths and the confident don’t care how other people see them.

So, moving on from the man’s arrogant statement, Bill started asking for particulars about the job, and when Tanaka couldn’t give him any more answers, he arranged for the Head of City Maintenance to meet with Bill later in the day.

With that they were given directions to where their quarters would be, much to Bill’s surprise and much to his men’s joy.

The ship wouldn’t be left unattended for the time being, despite having actual experience with Gran Tesoro it was decided that merchant-turned-Wanted man, Hollandaise, would discreetly remain on the boat until Bill helped him get clear of his Bounty.

Hollandaise was with Acier, Olga, and a few others, out of the crew of 150, thirty would remain and take turns in shifts.

After all, Bill wouldn’t want leave Marines on the ship permanently if there were any other options because the prospect of sleeping in solid beds was a great boost to morale.

Going to their temporary dorms, with a slight thumping of music in the background, Bill thought that it looked like the back of any event building he had seen on Earth.

Like this scores of Marines walked in a line through the maze of hallways and junctions, everything was gray plaster and concrete, and after about 15 minutes, the former ‘Greatest Thief of the East Blue’ spoke up quietly.

“Say, doesn’t it seem like we’ve been walking slightly downhill this entire time?”

Looking back over his shoulder, Bill just shrugged and answered not particularly quietly: “Though it’s not as exaggerated, Gran Tesoro is sort of like an iceberg. There’re miles of tunnels in the underdeck of the city.

So yeah, we’ve been walking down hill, I’d guess we’re in the 2nd subfloor at this point.”

Naturally this ‘guess’ was a virtual guarantee, not that Bill couldn’t be wrong, but his senses had far surpassed that of any human. Even though the floor only had the slightest incline, he could feel it each time he took a step.

Hearing Bill say this, and noticing that he wasn’t attempting to be secretive, Nelson held on at the map that Tanaka had given them and after slapping it with the back of his hand said: “Blimey, if that’s the case then the person who made this schematic needs to be reeducated!

Look there’s no indication at all that we’ve descended floors!”

When he said this, Borodo mentioned softly that it ‘may have not been an accident’ but Bill just shrugged and thought that it didn’t matter.

As long as they had the appropriate tools, with his strength, repairing this massive excess wouldn’t take long at all.

‘A month at most…’ was what Bill thought as the crew finally made their way to the surprisingly ornate rooms that had been prepared for them.

While Bill and his Marines looked at the gold-gilded rooms they had been put in, Tanaka was putting in his report to [Gild Tesoro], the so-called ‘Casino King’ and owner of the entertainment metropolis known to the world as [Gran Tesoro].

“Ah? The eggheads have finally arrived.

Well… let’s show them a good time… after all… they won’t ever be leaving.”

Then, as if caught in a world of his own, Gild smiled and started laughing, giving the others in the room the freedom to do the same.

And miles and miles away, crossing into the South Blue was a virtual fleet of warships on par with that of a small-scale [Buster Call].

Nine standard Marine Battleships formed in a ‘flying V’ protecting what was slightly different ship from the rest as it had oars sticking out of the hull, and on that ship deck a masked man spoke reverently with his right arm across his chest: “Saint Camael, my Lord Heavenly Dragon, we’re on pace to reach our destination at the anticipated time.”

Hearing the masked man say this, the figure dressed in a space suit ticked his head several times before responding: “Ehhhhh, tell the slaves to row faster, the air down here in this cesspit of a sea is bad for my health, ehhhhh!”

To his head ticking some more, the masked man seemed to not notice but instead kneeled down and said in reply: “Yes, Lord Heavenly Dragon, in your honor they will row faster!”

And true to his word, not five minutes later the oars started beating into the surf at a wild pace.

A pace that would continue for the next several weeks…

As the world turned, only a couple islands away from the greatest entertainment city in the world, a man sat listening to a Communication Snail. He wore a long black jacket with a buckle on the left sleeve, with a blue shirt and vest, a frilled cravat, and a simple belt holding a pair of loosen light-blue pants with black boots.

Nodding his head slightly, the man took off his top hat, rubbed his forehead, and said to his companions: “It’s confirmed, the target will arrive in between two- and three-weeks’ time…”

And answering him was a man that Bill would have recognized in an instant.

He was olive skinned and bearded, but whereas Bill had only known him as a young man, now Oliver Barba was already over thirty years old.

Replying to his commander, he said ominously: “Good, then the real Revolution starts now…”