Regulus stood there, the weight of Shanks's offer settling upon him. Join a pirate crew? The Red-Haired Pirates, no less. His initial instinct was to refuse, to cling to the solitary path he had carved for himself over the past five years. He was meant to be independent, a force rising on his own merit. Yet, the sheer power and experience radiating from Shanks and his crew was undeniable. He had been easily defeated, despite his own considerable strength. Perhaps, for a time, learning from the best wouldn't be such a detour from his ultimate goal.
He met Shanks's gaze, a spark of determination flickering in his amber eyes. "I'll join," he said, his voice clear and steady despite the internal debate still raging within him. "But I have one condition."
Shanks raised a questioning eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Oh? And what might that be, kid?"
"I will sail with you for four years," Regulus declared, his voice firm. "In four years, I will set out on my own path."
A hearty laugh boomed from Shanks, echoing across the beach. The other pirates exchanged curious glances, clearly intrigued by the young boy's audacity. "Four years, huh?" Shanks chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "That's a pretty specific timeframe. Mind telling me why?"
Regulus hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "My goal is to become the strongest in this world. I believe I can learn much from you and your crew in that time. But ultimately, I need to forge my own legend, my own way." He didn't elaborate on the burning ambition that drove him, the image of surpassing even the strongest figures in his fragmented memories.
Shanks's smile widened, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "I like your spirit, kid. Four years it is. Who knows what you'll accomplish in that time? Maybe you'll even give me a run for my money by then." He extended his hand again. "Welcome to the Red-Haired Pirates, Regulus."
Regulus grasped Shanks's hand, the calloused grip firm and reassuring. A sense of finality settled over him. He had made his decision. The other pirates cheered, clapping him on the shoulder and offering boisterous welcomes. Benn Beckman, leaning against a nearby tree with his ever-present cigarette, offered a curt nod of approval.
Despite the camaraderie of the moment, Regulus's mind was already racing. Four years. It seemed like a long time, but in the pursuit of ultimate power, it was merely a stepping stone. He wouldn't waste a single moment. He turned to Shanks, his eyes filled with renewed determination. "Captain," he said, "I'm ready to continue my training."
Shanks laughed again, shaking his head. "You never quit, do you, kid? Alright then. But maybe take a breather first. You've been at it non-stop for years."
"There's no time to waste," Regulus insisted, drawing the "Fang of Fenrir." "I want to see how much I can improve by sparring with you again."
Shanks's smile softened, a hint of respect in his gaze. "Alright, alright. If you insist." He drew Gryphon once more, the polished blade glinting in the afternoon sun. The sparring sessions resumed, but this time, there was a different dynamic at play. Shanks, while still overwhelmingly powerful, seemed to be subtly guiding Regulus, offering pointers and pushing him to explore the limits of his abilities.
"Try focusing your Haki a little more," Shanks would say after effortlessly deflecting one of Regulus's attacks. "Imagine it as an invisible shield, not just a coating." Or, "Your Devil Fruit transformation is powerful, but you need to be more fluid with your transitions. Don't let the beast control you; you control the beast."
During their breaks, as they sat catching their breath, Shanks would sometimes ask Regulus about his past, his life before the island. Regulus would offer vague answers, careful not to reveal too much about his transmigration. But Shanks seemed to already know more than he let on. He would occasionally make cryptic remarks, his eyes holding a knowing look.
"That fighting style of yours," he said once, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It's… familiar. Almost like someone I knew from the Holy Land, years ago." Regulus would simply meet his gaze, offering nothing, intrigued by Shanks's knowing glances and the unspoken connection he seemed to sense.
Another time, observing Regulus's control over the Frostfire, Shanks commented, "That power… it's incredibly potent. Be careful with it, kid. Such raw strength can be difficult to master, but in the right hands… it can change the world." His words carried a weight that hinted at experiences Regulus couldn't comprehend.
Over the next few days, Regulus continued to train relentlessly under Shanks's watchful eye. He sparred not only with his captain but also with Benn Beckman, whose precise and calculated fighting style offered a different kind of challenge. He learned from Yasopp's incredible marksmanship, observing his techniques and even trying his hand at using a pistol, though his primary focus remained his sword and Devil Fruit.
He noticed the subtle ways the crew interacted, the unspoken understanding and deep bond that connected them. He began to feel a sense of belonging, a feeling he hadn't experienced in his five years of solitude. They were a boisterous, sometimes chaotic, but ultimately supportive group.
Despite the progress he was making, Regulus never forgot his four-year limit. It fueled his every training session, every spar, every moment of learning. He absorbed everything he could from the Red-Haired Pirates, knowing that his time with them was finite. He was like a sponge, soaking up their knowledge and experience, preparing for the day when he would set sail on his own, ready to face the challenges of the Grand Line and forge his own path to power.
As the Red Force prepared to leave the island, setting course for their next adventure, Regulus stood on the deck, the wind whipping through his hair. He looked back at the island that had been his home for so long, a place of hardship and growth. He was leaving it behind, but he was taking with him the strength he had forged there and the invaluable lessons he had learned from the legendary Red-Haired Pirates. The next four years would be crucial, a period of intense growth and preparation. And Regulus was ready for the journey ahead, his ambition burning brighter than ever. The unspoken past hinted at by Shanks remained a mystery, a thread of intrigue woven into the fabric of his new life, waiting to be unraveled.