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'…' Thought
"…" speech
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We had been at sea for three days now, and all I could think was: Thank God for the glasses.
Seriously, without them, I'd probably be throwing myself overboard just to get away from all the chaos Ging was causing.
See, befriending Ging seemed like a great idea at first—he was smart, talented, and a great training partner. But somewhere between boarding this ship and now, I started seriously questioning my life choices.
Why?
Because Ging Freecss has a natural talent for pissing people off.
Not that it's a problem for me—normally, I'd just sit back and watch the world burn. But when he drags me into it? That's when it becomes my problem.
It started on the very first day.
Ging strutted onto the deck like he owned the ship, scanned the crowd, and loudly declared:
"Wow. I think this is the weakest group of people I've ever seen in my life."
Immediate silence. Every sailor, every hopeful Hunter candidate, every single person turned to glare at him.
I sighed, already feeling a headache coming.
One of the larger sailors, a guy with arms thicker than my torso, stepped forward. "What did you just say, brat?"
Ging, completely unfazed, tilted his head and said, "Oh, don't take it personally. It's not like I'm discriminating or anything. You're all equally weak."
At that moment, I knew peace was never an option.
I grabbed Ging by the collar and yanked him down before the sailor could punt him overboard. "Ignore him," I said quickly. "He's, uh… special."
Ging snorted. "I'm not special. I'm just better than all of you."
The sailor took a step forward, veins popping in his forehead.
"Ging," I whispered sharply. "Shut. Up."
Did he shut up? No.
Instead, he pointed at me and loudly announced, "Oh, don't worry! My big brother here thinks you're all trash too!"
The betrayal hit me so hard I momentarily lost all faith in humanity.
"WHAT!?" I shouted.
Now I was getting glares too. Fantastic.
"Ging," I muttered through gritted teeth. "I swear, if I survive this, I am going to feed you to a sea monster."
"Oh, please," he scoffed. "I'd probably tame it first."
I managed to calm the situation down (barely) by telling the sailors that Ging wasn't right in the head. When they started backing off, I thought that would be the end of it.
It wasn't.
Day Two: Ging found new people to piss off.
He somehow got into an argument with a group of rookie Hunters-in-training. I wasn't paying attention at first because I was enjoying my peaceful time watching a movie on my glasses.
That peace ended when I heard:
"Oh, so you're all aiming to be Hunters? That's cute."
I froze. Slowly turned around.
Yup. There was Ging, grinning like an idiot, as an entire group of muscular, battle-hardened candidates looked at him like they were ready to throw him overboard.
One of them, a bald guy with a scar over his eye, cracked his knuckles. "You got a problem, kid?"
"Nah," Ging said. "Just wondering how you're gonna pass the exam with muscles for brains."
I almost dropped my glasses.
I rushed over immediately before another disaster could unfold. "Ignore him," I told the guy. "He was dropped on his head as a baby."
Ging gasped dramatically. "Big bro, how could you slander me like this?"
"Because I enjoy breathing and don't want to die before we reach land."
The guy narrowed his eyes. "He called us dumb."
I nodded sympathetically. "He calls everyone dumb. Don't take it personally."
After about ten minutes of damage control, I got Ging away from them.
"Why?" I groaned, dragging him to a corner of the deck. "Why do you do this?"
He grinned. "It's fun."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "One day, someone's actually going to kill you, and I'm not going to stop them."
"But you always stop them," he said smugly.
I sighed. He wasn't wrong.
Day Three: At this point, I just accepted my fate.
It was early morning. I was sitting on the deck, enjoying the sea breeze, watching the waves. For ten whole minutes, I thought maybe—just maybe—today would be different.
Then Ging plopped down next to me and said, "Hey, wanna start a fight?"
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"…Why?"
He shrugged. "I'm bored."
I turned to him. "Ging. Buddy. Listen. For once in your life, could you not start trouble?"
He gave me a thoughtful look. "No."
"…Of course."
We sat in silence for a moment before he nudged me with his elbow. "Admit it. You'd be bored without me."
I stared at him, deadpan. "I would love to be bored, Ging."
He snickered. "Liar."
I sighed, leaning back. The worst part?
…Maybe he wasn't entirely wrong.
Then a storm hit like a sledgehammer. One second, the sea was mildly angry. The next, it was having a full-blown tantrum.
Waves crashed against the ship, lightning crackled in the distance, and people were getting bodied left and right by the sheer force of the wind.
And guess what?
Only Ging and I were left barely standing.
Why barely?
Because in the middle of the raging storm, Ging decided it was a great time to steal the captain's wine.
I repeat.
IN THE MIDDLE OF A LIFE-THREATENING STORM, THIS IDIOT DECIDED TO COMMIT GRAND THEFT ALCOHOL.
Now, don't get me wrong—I tried to stop him.
Me:"Ging. No. We are in the middle of a hurricane."
Ging:"Which is exactly why we need a drink."
Me:"I literally have wine in my inventory. We can drink that later."
Ging:"But that's for emergencies."
Me:"THIS. IS. AN EMERGENCY."
Ging:"Nah, real emergencies involve being stranded on an island. Right now, we're just mildly inconvenienced."
And so, like the natural disaster he is, he snuck into the captain's quarters, swiped the bottle, and dragged me along for the crime. Keep talking about tasting the reel experts' wine.
So there we were—two eleven-year-olds, half-drunk in the middle of a violent storm, holding onto the mast for dear life.
Me:"We are going to die."
Ging:"But at least we'll die cultured."
Just as I was contemplating throwing him overboard, we heard a deep, unimpressed voice behind us.
"Enjoying yourselves, boys?"
We turned slowly to find the captain himself standing there, arms crossed, his red nose and graying hair making him look exactly like an old-timey sea dog.
The only person on this entire ship who had been drinking… and we stole from him.
I was so sure we were about to be fed to the ocean gods.
Instead, he just sighed and gestured for us to follow him inside.
Inside his cabin, the storm still raged outside, but the old man didn't seem concerned. He took his seat behind his desk, relit his pipe, and looked us over like we were particularly annoying seagulls.
"Alright, you little thieves," he said. "Since you seem so eager to take from me, let's see if you're actually worth my time. Why do you brats want to become Hunters?"
Ging, still feeling bold from the wine, leaned forward with a grin.
"Because I got bored staying on Whale Island," he said. "And a Hunter License lets you go anywhere. Oh, and I like ruins."
I rolled my eyes. Classic Ging answer.
The captain turned to me. "And you?"
I didn't even hesitate.
"To afford to retire at 30."
Silence.
The captain stared at me. Ging choked on his own spit.
"That's it?" the captain asked, blinking.
I shrugged. "Yeah. You know how hard life is? No way I'm working past 30. I want a mansion, unlimited food, and a stress-free life."
Ging burst out laughing. "I take it back. You're the real old man here."
I ignored him.
The captain exhaled a puff of smoke and gave a low chuckle. "At least you're honest. Most kids talk about glory or adventure. You just want early retirement."
"Exactly," I said. "Why struggle if I don't have to?"
He smirked, then leaned forward. "Well, if you two survive this storm, maybe you'll get that chance."
We looked at each other.
Then another massive wave rocked the ship, sending us tumbling across the room.
Maybe next time, we wouldn't commit crimes during a natural disaster.
…Nah, who am I kidding? It's Ging.
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The Captain's POV – Two Little Menaces
I've been sailing these waters for years. I've seen my fair share of stormy nights, reckless idiots, and drunkards trying to fight the sea itself.
But never in my life did I expect to see two kids—no, brats—stealing my damn wine in the middle of a storm.
I had just taken my first sip when I noticed the bottles were gone. Gone.
For a moment, I thought I had finally lost my mind. But no, the real culprits were two little thieves clinging to the mast like drunk monkeys.
The shorter one with messy black hair—Ging, I think his name was—was grinning like a devil. The other kid, the one who looked slightly more responsible but just as guilty, had his head buried in his hand like he was regretting every decision that led him to this moment.
"Enjoying yourselves, boys?" I asked.
The look of sheer terror on the responsible one's face? Priceless.
After dragging them inside before they got themselves killed, I decided to have some fun with them.
"Alright, you little thieves," I said, taking my seat. "Since you seem so eager to take from me, let's see if you're actually worth my time. Why do you brats want to become Hunters?"
The black-haired one, Ging, didn't even hesitate.
"Because I got bored staying on Whale Island. And a Hunter License lets you go anywhere. Oh, and I like ruins."
Bored. This kid wanted to throw himself into life-threatening situations because he was bored.
He's either fearless or an idiot.
I turned to the other one, the more reserved kid who had that tired look in his eyes—like he was already done with life at the age of eleven.
"And you?"
What he said next almost made me spit out my pipe.
"To afford to retire at 30."
I blinked.
Ging choked on his own spit.
"That's it?" I asked.
The kid shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world."Yeah. You know how hard life is? No way I'm working past 30. I want a mansion, unlimited food, and a stress-free life."
This kid.
This eleven-year-old was talking about early retirement like he was already a war veteran.
Ging lost it. He was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. "I take it back. You're the real old man here."
I took a long drag from my pipe and stared at these two.
One was a reckless genius, the other was a lazy mastermind.
Damn it. I liked them.
"Well, if you two survive this storm, maybe you'll get that chance," I told them.
Before they could respond, a wave slammed into the ship, sending them flying across the room.
I sighed. This was going to be a long trip.
Surviving the storm was easy. The old man—our now slightly-less-hated Captain—gave us some useful advice for the next examiner, which was frankly useless for me.
I had a compass that could literally tell me where to go.
But of course, Ging wasn't having it.
"The journey is more important than the goal!" he said, all righteous and philosophical.
"What am I, Luffy?" I shot back ,I know I shouldn't let him watch one piece with me.
Still, we played along and went the long way. And that's how we ended up in front of an old lady with the most annoying question in history.
"Your mom or your dad, you can only save one. Whom are you going to choose?"
I already knew the answer was silence, but before I could open my mouth, Ging fired off without hesitation.
"I will choose your mother. Might help me raise someone as cheerful as you."
I stared at him.
The old lady stared at him.
The air stared at him.
And in that moment, I realized Ging Freecss is a certified GILF hunter.
I almost choked on my own spit. I looked at him in horror as he stood there, arms crossed, looking smug as hell.
"Bro."
He winked.
I turned to the old lady, who was somehow blushing.No more likely angry.
I decided it was time to reset the universe.
"I will just kill the person who made that question an option to consider to begin with."
We passed.
I knew the answer was supposed to be silence, but hey—we got through, didn't we?
More importantly, I had newfound knowledge that would haunt me for life.
Ging was into ruins.
And now I knew why.
We ended up meeting the fox family—all five of them.
And to my surprise, there was a really old grandma fox among them. At least, I think she was a grandma. Hard to tell when your species is covered in fur and wrinkles are just... extra fluff.
They tried setting up some kind of test, but before they even began, Ging just walked in, then immediately walked out.
"I don't meddle in family drama," he muttered, crossing his arms like he had just avoided a soap opera.
Meanwhile, I did what any rational person would do in a forest survival scenario.
I walked in, grabbed their food, walked back out, and dumped it in front of Ging.
"Cook something. I'm starving."
We had been marching all day, and mysterious fox-family-trial nonsense wasn't going to fill my stomach.
So while Ging was busy flipping meat on an open fire, the foxes—probably baffled at our lack of respect —just sighed and let us pass.
Then they grabbed us by the back of our shirts and took us flying.
I should've been worried about being carried away by giant foxes, but at this point, I was just chewing on some grilled meat like it was a normal Wednesday.
We were dropped off at... a primary school.
Turns out, the next part of the Hunter Exam was disguised as a "Save the Endangered Bird Species" Convention.
I looked at Ging.
He looked at me.
"Bro."
"Bro."
This was definitely a money laundering scheme.
To find the real entrance, all we had to do was ask to donate money.
Some random staff member took us to the side, pulled a lever, and dropped us through a trapdoor.
We fell for about ten seconds, screaming the entire time, before crash-landing into a massive pile of feathers.
I spat out a mouthful of fluff.
"I swear, this exam keeps throwing us into weird situations—"
Ging popped out of the feathers like a groundhog.
"This is the best convention I've ever been a part of."