Chapter 273: Arrival on the Sea
Sea Calendar 1514, early spring.
An unnamed port on an island in the Grand Line.
This was a simple port, artificially dug out and crudely built with wood. Like the port itself, the town beside it was also underdeveloped. Most of the homes were worn down and poorly maintained.
On Marine charts, this island was nothing more than a tiny speck.
Compared to the bustling islands nearby, it was an ordinary place that could easily be overlooked.
Winter had only just passed on this small island. The sky was gloomy, and the snow had not completely melted. Half-thawed patches of snow could be seen everywhere, adding a damp chill to the air.
Even in such weather, a young man stood at the port.
He had an old-fashioned rifle slung over his shoulder and wore a thin sweater, though a few parts had clearly been reinforced. An animal fur scarf hung around his neck, but it still could not block the biting sea wind.
He rubbed his palms together, trying to squeeze out a little warmth.
The skull tattoo exposed on the back of his hand clearly marked him as a pirate.
The young man had not come here by choice.
He was on lookout duty.
Even pirates, who claimed to live freely, were not truly free. Only the captain had the right to move with any real freedom. The rest of them simply followed orders.
This time, they had raided a small island.
Because the island attracted little attention, the raid had gone smoothly.
The experienced pirates and those with their own little groups were now enjoying the spoils of victory. As for him, he had no clique and no backing aboard the ship, so lookout duty naturally fell on his head.
He did not believe any Marines would come searching in such wretched weather.
But he did not dare disobey the captain's orders.
On a pirate ship, defying the captain usually had only one outcome.
Death.
And he did not want to die.
So no matter how cold it was, he had to endure it.
After all, freezing was far better than dying.
The young pirate pulled a bottle of cheap liquor from the grimy, faded pocket of his pants.
It was part of the loot the captain had distributed.
He had received some as well, though not much. He had rationed it carefully since last night, and the bottle was already nearly empty.
Drinking a little to warm his body seemed like a good idea.
He took small sips of the remaining liquor while gazing at the distant sea.
This was probably the only benefit of lookout duty.
A brief moment of peace.
Unfortunately, that peace did not last long.
The wind picked up.
A freezing gust struck him head-on, making the young pirate huddle tighter into himself.
Above him, ink-black clouds rolled in, darkening the already gloomy sky.
The young pirate noticed it at once.
After sailing for several years, he had gained some experience. He could tell that this was a sign of an approaching storm.
He needed to report the situation so the other pirates could prepare.
If their ship was washed away, they would be stranded here for a long time.
More importantly, he did not trust the ship built by his rough, careless companions.
It looked like it might sink at any moment.
On the vast sea, a sinking ship meant death.
But just then, he noticed a black dot on the sea in the distance.
It was slowly approaching.
A person riding a bicycle?
Riding a bicycle in this awful weather?
No.
More importantly, riding a bicycle on the sea?
What kind of ridiculous joke was that?
He must still be dreaming, or perhaps the cold had frozen his brain.
However, as the bicycle drew closer, its shape became clearer.
Then the sound of a bell reached his ears.
Only then did the young pirate confirm what he was seeing.
Without thinking further, he sounded the alarm.
When an unknown situation appeared, his task was simple.
Gather his companions first.
The moment the alarm rang out, a group of pirates rushed to the port within minutes.
They arrived so quickly because they had chosen a coastal location for their revelry.
They were pirates.
Outlaws.
An alarm meant danger, battle, or even death.
So when the warning sounded, everyone immediately dropped what they were doing and hurried over.
Whether to fight or flee would depend on what happened next.
The young pirate retreated to the rear and joined the others.
They were separated from the port by a large rock.
This spot naturally blocked them from the view of the person on the sea, while also giving them direct access to the cove where their pirate ship was anchored.
The young pirate quickly reported the situation to the man with the most authority among them.
The captain.
"You're saying someone is riding a bicycle on the sea?"
The pirate captain repeated the words.
Then he slapped the young pirate hard.
The young pirate's head spun, and his face burned with pain.
"You bastard. Do you think I'm a fool, or do you think all of us are fools?"
The captain's face twisted with anger.
"You interrupted my fun and made me kill that woman halfway through."
This was common practice among most pirates.
To prevent Marine pursuit, they would stop their revelry and kill any nearby residents the moment an alarm sounded.
It prevented the residents from leaking information.
It also intimidated the Marines and applied psychological pressure.
Facing ruthless pirates, anyone would feel fear.
Even most Marines were not truly fearless.
The young pirate secretly mourned the beauty of the dead woman while hurriedly explaining, "It's true..."
But before he could finish, another pirate rushed over.
"Captain! Captain! There really is someone riding a bicycle on the sea!"
More than one person reported the same thing.
Only then did the pirate captain finally believe it.
He adjusted his clothes, drew his gun, and hurried out.
"Get someone to weigh anchor and raise the sails immediately."
"But a storm is coming. Isn't it too dangerous to set sail now?" someone asked.
A cautious look crossed the captain's face.
Anyone who could ride a bicycle on the sea was no ordinary person.
More likely, they were a user of the legendary treasure, a Devil Fruit.
Compared to a storm, people were far more dangerous.
"We're only preparing in advance."
The captain's voice was firm.
"If nothing happens, we won't set sail."
Seeing his demeanor and considering his usual authority, no one dared oppose him.
After the captain stepped out, a group of his subordinates followed.
By then, the person riding the bicycle had slowly arrived at the port.
Behind him stretched a path of pure white ice.
It glittered faintly, clear and cold, leaving a long frozen trail across the sea.
That alone marked the newcomer as extraordinary.
The moment the pirate captain saw the figure clearly, his mind made an instant choice.
Flee.
Because he recognized the newcomer.
A Marine who symbolized absolute justice.
One of the Admirals who represented the Marines' absolute military power.
Aokiji.
.....
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