23 King of Yapping
(A/N: Chapters will start being more descriptive and not just random jump and skips to random points without reasoning. I hope you enjoy the changes I've begun making. Much love <3.)< strong>
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Rayleigh blinked at Kasper, his weathered face creased in utter bewilderment. This kid had materialized out of thin air, plunked himself down next to him, pressed a drink into his hand, and then uttered a bombshell that could shatter a battleship. Roger's son? Rayleigh thought the woman and her child had been swallowed by Marines all those years ago, hunted to the bitter end.
"You saying..." Rayleigh croaked, his voice thick with emotion, a single tear tracing a path down his wrinkled cheek. "The blood of the Pirate King still flows? There's a part of Roger still out there, sailin' the Grand Line?" The very notion that a piece of his old captain, his wild, free-spirited friend, could still exist filled Rayleigh with a bittersweet joy, a flicker of warmth in the twilight of his own life.
Kasper met Rayleigh's gaze with a solemn nod. "That's right, he's currently sailing with some of Whitebeard's crew and turning heads."
A knot of unease tightened in Rayleigh's gut. "So there's good news and bad news, then?" he rumbled, his weathered face etched with growing suspicion.
Kasper hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "Look, I heard rumors there's someone planning to betray him within the crew. And let's be honest, Whitebeard wouldn't believe a word from a complete stranger."
Rayleigh snorted. "You got that right. So why spill your guts to me? Why should I believe you any more than that old goat?"
Kasper had anticipated this reaction. He wasn't naive. But he had to try. He wasn't some self-righteous hero, but he couldn't just stand by and do nothing, especially when it came to someone he admired. He had a plan, a risky one, and he needed Rayleigh on board.
Sensing the tension crackling between them, Robin reached over and grasped Kasper's hand. He met her gaze, a silent communication passing between them before he turned back to Rayleigh. "Look, I ain't got nothin' to gain by all this. Nothin' to lose, neither. And trust me, if I wanted to hurt Ace or Whitebeard's crew, I could've done it a long time ago. You can probably sense that yourself, can't you?"
Rayleigh studied the young man. There was a hidden power thrumming beneath that unassuming exterior, a raw strength that could pin everyone on this island if unleashed. It wasn't just a hunch; it was years of honed instincts whispering the truth.
Rayleigh pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh that rattled the rum bottles on the shelf. "Alright, fine. Let's say I entertain this notion for a moment. What's the whole story?"
A flicker of relief washed over Kasper's face. "Right, now here's the thing. You ever heard of the Yami Yami no Mi? This fella, Marshall D. Teach, got his grubby mitts on it, and from what I hear, he's planning to use it to spark the next Great War between pirates and Marines."
Rayleigh scoffed. "A single Devil Fruit? That's a tall tale, even for these waters."
"It's not about the fruit itself," Kasper pressed, leaning forward. "It's the rotten soul wielding it. This Teach seems like the lowest kind of scum, the sort who'd crawl over his own grandma to climb the pirate ladder. Imagine him getting his hands on Ace, beating him half-dead, then turning him in to the Marines for a hefty reward. Whitebeard wouldn't just sit on his hands, would he?"
Rayleigh stroked his beard, considering the scenario. "Makes sense. The old man would tear the world apart to get Ace back."
"Exactly," Kasper said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Now, here's the kicker about this Devil Fruit – rumour has it, it allows the user to steal the powers of others, adding them to their own. Simply, Teach somehow can wield multiple Fruit powers."
The bomb landed with a deafening thud. Rayleigh shot up from his chair, eyes wide with disbelief. Luckily, the bar had emptied out during their conversation, leaving them alone with the weight of Kasper's revelation. "Steal powers? That's... that's impossible! Only one person can wield a singular Devil Fruit power."
(A/N: Edited due to people confusing Rayleigh's shock about the DF being important, not about Teach being able to steal and wield more than one.)
"Easy there," Kasper countered, his voice firm despite the tremor of urgency. "We both know there's nothing truly impossible in this world, especially you, Dark King. Teaches body.. it's an anomaly."
Rayleigh's jaw clenched at the old moniker, a flicker of his past glory sparking in his eyes.
"So then," Rayleigh rumbled, piecing things together, "Teach isn't aiming for war itself, but for Whitebeard's power! He plans to betray him and steal the Devil Fruit in the chaos!"
"Bingo," Kasper confirmed with a grim snap of his fingers.
"And you're telling me all this for what? You want me to swoop in and save Whitebeard, or Ace?" Rayleigh queried, his mind already whirring with potential courses of action.
Kasper chuckled, a dry sound that cut through the tension, seeing the wheels turning in the old man's head. "Nothing so dramatic. I'm sure Whitebeard still holds your word in high regard, wouldn't you say? You both hail from the same era, and your time with Roger's crew lends you a certain trustworthiness."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I have a plan, but it hinges on you meeting with Whitebeard and sharing your 'findings' about Teach."
Rayleigh scoffed, grabbing another drink and downing it in one go. "Why not just cut the head off the snake now? Kill Teach and be done with it."
Kasper shook his head. "Think about the repercussions. Whitebeard's crew would never forgive the one who took their supposed brother down in cold blood. They'd hunt you to the ends of the Earth. No, this plan takes everything into account."
He then turned towards Robin, who had been intently listening to their exchange, though she hadn't spoken a word. Kasper knew she was unaware of the details he'd just revealed – this was his mission, his burden to bear on this island. Robin was simply at his side, offering her support as promised. He had, after all, promised her some fun and excitement.
"So tell me this plan and let's get this done. If this is true, then we'll be doing something to help that old drunken giant, if its false, you'll be hunted by everyone." Rayleigh said, slight excitment on his face.
A grin tugged at the corner of Kasper's lips. "That's the spirit, Rayleigh. Here's the gist of it." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a murmur as he outlined his plan. Robin, ever the strategist, leaned in as well, her keen mind dissecting each detail.
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The night wore on as Robin, Kasper, and Rayleigh hashed out the details of their plan. It was a high-wire act, a delicate ballet of manipulation and necessity. Rayleigh's past with Whitebeard and a carefully calculated gamble formed the linchpin of their strategy. As Kasper laid out his audacious proposal, the weight of the situation settled upon the bar, a stark contrast to the jovial mood of earlier. The fate of a crew, a potential war, and maybe even the balance of power in the world rested on their shoulders.
Exhausted but resolute, they finally parted ways. Kasper and Robin found a modest inn, renting two rooms to wash away the day's fatigue.
A yawn escaped Kasper as dawn's light crept in, painting stripes across his face. He shuffled to the bathroom for a quick freshening up, pulling on his usual worn clothes – practicality trumped comfort at this point.
Descending the stairs, he found Robin in the dining room, a book in hand and a steaming cup of tea beside her. He slid into a seat across from her. "Mornin'," he rasped, his voice thick with sleep. "You look like you didn't catch much shut-eye either."
Robin closed her book with a snap. "With all that planning and strategizing? It could potentially save countless lives, you know."
Kasper chuckled, a dry sound. "Still clinging to that hero image, are we? Robin, let's get one thing straight. I'm not some saint running around saving damsels in distress. You wanna know what I really want?" His tone turned serious, a feral grin splitting his face. "I want to fuck up Teach up so bad, he'll wish he was never born."
Kasper and Robin emerged from the inn, the weight of their conversation lingering between them. Robin still held onto the belief that Kasper's actions, however brutal, stemmed from a sense of justice. Kasper, on the other hand, reveled in the dark satisfaction of vengeance.
Their disagreement was momentarily forgotten as the scene before them shattered the tranquility of the morning. In the middle of the street, a grotesque spectacle unfolded. People bowed their heads, groveling on the ground, creating a makeshift path for a figure in the center.
This "figure" was more akin to a grotesquely inflated walrus, a walking embodiment of gluttony fueled by fast food. A ridiculous astronaut helmet, seemingly meant to protect the creature from the very air it breathed, sat upon its massive head. The most disturbing detail, however, was the unfortunate soul beneath this monstrosity. It wasn't a beast of burden, but a man, a slave forced to crawl on all fours, reduced to a human cart for this obscene display of power.
A surge of anger, hot and potent, flared in both Robin's and Kasper's eyes. This wasn't just casual cruelty; it was a deliberate dehumanization, a sickening violation of basic decency. Robin's lips pressed into a thin line. Kasper's fists clenched, the air around him crackling with a barely contained fury.
"Celestial Dragons."
