The worst thing about returning home was seeing it with freshly peeled eyes.
Of course, it was never much of a home for Regan, merely a place he had spawned in, but regardless, his experiences on the sea had brought a level of insignificance and disgust towards the island that was now brimming through his bones.
I can't bear being here anymore. This place is a fleck in the grand scale of this world.
He had learned from Clam, with covert and carefully placed questions that didn't give way to his ignorance, of the band and location of Dantes's island—his home.
It was called Ploughmuth. Located in the furthermost region of the North Blue. Home to many pirates and traders, as Regan had observed when he had first spawned there.
Regan leaned back against the side of the ship, the scowl on his face deepening the closer they got to the docks. Regan found a group of men on the wooden platform waving and whistling, their triumphant cries reaching a deafening crescendo as the shop parked against the docks.
They were his father's men, Regan observed, dressed neatly in the uniform of the inn, though some had obvious stains from a long, arduous day of work. Regan disembarked from the ship, ignoring the hardened gazes of the surrounding pirate crews onboard their ships. The island did not serve to quell their instincts that were rooted in greed and piracy.
''Regan! It has been a while, thank the heavens you're back!'' one of the men said. He was a tall man without any bulk to him, grey fields of hair on either side of his head. Regan had observed him in the kitchens a couple weeks back, but he was promptly rushed out of that very same place, failing to grab his name. Not that he would have anyway.
''Where's Manora?'' Regan said, ignoring the mans incessant greetings.
''Morgan? You mean that damn pirate?'' the man replied, his tone slick with disgust.
''Yes. The pirate. Bring him here. And bring father too.''
''Bring him?'' one of the other men said, a dark cloud forming above his brow as the boy's commands brought his ego to a boil. ''Why don't we just take you to him, eh?''
''I think not,'' Regan sniggered, taking a seat on the wooden platform, his legs crossed. ''Bring them here. I'll wait. As long as it takes.''
The men gave each other strange glances, confusion apparent in their eyes. Many of them were reluctant to follow his demands, for they had clearly been sent to bring back the profits and the merchant crew. At least what was left of it.
A handful of them swallowed whatever words they had meaned to say, and simply walked away into the crowd of traders and pirates that mingled and coalesced like oil and water in the cauldron that was their environment.
Some of them, however, with their brows still raised, remained. ''Where's Jin? And Rose?'' another man said. He was a small but stocky man, his arms thick as a castle wall, the veins burgeoning all along it.
''Dead.'' Regan replied with an air of indifference. Jin wasn't a thought in his mind, nor was the other mans, but Rose's death still somewhat troubled him. Though it wasn't enough to draw tears, it still brought his mind into deep rumination on the days where the world, as it always did, would give him some edge and some inkling of her memory, be it through the radiant sun that reflected her smile, or the softness of his sheets that were redolent of her embrace.
''What!?'' the man exclaimed, his eyes wide with terror. ''What do you mean dead!?''
''Shot and killed. All of them are dead. Except for Izgrim and Clam.''
''What the fuck!? What do you mean they're dead? The fuck happened!?'' He exclaimed again, shrill and horrified voices following his own. Regan was growing tired of all the shouting, the rambunctious noises he heard from a multitude of crowds behind them were enough.
''Where's Clam!? Where's Izgrim!?''
''You're messing with us!''
''How did they die!? Are you fuckin' with us kid!? Huh!?''
''Shut up!'' Regan demanded, bringing their annoying enquiries to a quiet. Some passerbys had heard the heat in his anger and it seemed to have caught their legs as much as it had caught the tongue of his father's employees.
Izgrim and Clam were safe in the ship, but as to why they had not disembarked with him, Regan decided it was best to keep that to himself. He had told them to stay behind, though with increasing demand in his voice the more they refused. Demand that had culminated in threats. He had also ordered them to bag up all of the treasure they had acquired, along with all of the cash they had made in their sales.
He had no intention of returning any of that to his father.
After a few more minutes of bickering and intervals of silence, Regan found a tall figure in the distance, a man he had grown familiar with during his short time on Ploughmuth.
Morgan!
Beside him was his father, his face swathed with such an angry expression that Regan wondered if it would peel off if he continued to wear it.
''What is the meaning of this!?'' His father roared, stomping his way to the docks. Regan stood up to meet his father, and found his face was now pressed against his. His nose twitched with every flare of rage that tugged at his heart. Perhaps the man could feel the heat of it too, for a bead of sweat was now trickling down the deep lines on his forehead.
''Hello, father.'' Regan smiled.
''What're you smiling for brat?'' His father said.
''Where is everyone? Did something happen at sea?'' Morgan said, his own brow raised.
''Nice to see you too old man.'' Regan scowled, looking back at the ship. He motioned his head to turn back, but a loud declaration of horrific fact had whipped it back instead.
''They're dead boss! Ya kids saying Rose and them are dead!''
''W-what!?'' His father stammered, turning to meet the gaze of his employee. His quivering lips and the anxious vein that rose up on his forhead gave some credice to his words, prompting the man to turn back to his son. ''What is he talking about? Is this true, Regan?''
''It's true.'' Regan shrugged.
Morgan slowly shook his head and put his head in his hands. ''God. What the hell did you do, Re--Dantes?'' Morgan sighed.
''No need for that anymore,'' Regan told him, a wide grin contorting the smile he once wore. ''Tell them my real name.''
''What?'' Morgan said, nonplussed.
''Have you lost your mind!?'' The father bellowed, both fists clenched to accentuate his rage. ''Tell everybody to come out now!''
Regan pushed his father back lightly, drawing gasps and aghast expressions that he had often seen when many first became informed of his debilitating disease back in the real world.
''No, father. I have not grown mad. I'm perfectly fine. In fact I am much better than I ever have been. Thanks to taking the body of your son.''
''Taking the body of my son!? What're you--''
''My name is not Dantes! I am NOT Dedmond Dantes! My name is Regan Caine, and I am not your son. But, however, starting from this day forwards, I will take your sons name as my own.''
''Dantes!'' Morgan yelled, attempting to sway the men back to the false reality that Regan had once perpetuated. ''What the hell do you think you're doing!?''
''What I should've done the very moment I spawned here, Morgan.''
Revealing himself as a transmigrater was risky, Regan knew. But he concluded that, with Morgan's presence on the island, he was most likely the only transmigrater on it. His panicked reaction and utter shock to the reveal of Regan's true identity only gave more credence to that fact.
''Clam! Izgrim! Bring it all out!'' Regan watched the men analyse his every movement, and grinned even harder knowing what was about to come. Clam came out carrying bags upon bags of treasure and gold, his chaffed hands marking how long he had been holding them for, in preparation for this very moment.
Izgrim came out with a single bag hauled over his shoulder, and struggled down the long wide plank of the merchants ship. They then both proceeded to pour the contents of the bag out on the docks, revealing scintillating treasures that varied between hoards of silver and gold coins, necklaces and rosary's with gemstones all around them, and scabbards embellished with gemstones themselves.
The men's eyes were glinting as much as the treasure was, and, like some strange sixth sense that pirates often had towards valuables that were not theirs, the surrounding pirates who, at one point, were going about their days, had now turned to find treasure behind and in front of Regan's feet.
The bags of berries followed afterwards, with Regan grabbing some of the cash from out of the bag and throwing it up into the air, dragging some of the greed-driven men to rush forward and rip the notes from out of the sky. However, when some hand tried to lay hands on the treasure, Regan had knocked them away swiftly.
''Look! You see this, huh? father? Are you seeing this too, Morgan!? All of this I've accumulated in a few weeks. Can you imagine the wealth I'll hoard in my life as a pirate? All of you, you noisy, troublesome criminals with jolly rogers on your sails. Step forward!"
"Understand this, you egotistical and ambitious lot, understand that Dedmond.D.Dantes will be the greatest pirate from the north blue, and soon he will be one of the greats across the entire sea! Join me now, and sail with me, It doesn't matter if you're weak, there's training for that! Every man can be strong! Join me and accept me as your captain and you will enjoy a life of utter luxury! Or you can stay here and continue drinking booze. Make your choices.''