The Pledge
In every great story, the beginning is crucial. It is the moment when the hero makes a promise, a pledge that sets everything into motion. The Pledge is the foundation of the journey, where the protagonist, in their innocence or ignorance, sets out with dreams of something greater. The world is theirs to conquer, the possibilities endless. But at this stage, the audience is still blind to the true nature of the hero’s path. We are merely spectators, awed by the illusion of progress. It’s a promise made, but the questions remain: Will they succeed? Can they truly achieve the extraordinary? We only see the surface, not yet knowing the darkness that will be uncovered.
Time has passed since the battle on the Rouquemoute ship. A heavy blow to my head and a fall into the icy sea forced me into hiding as quickly as possible. What better place to lay low than with people who knew me, people who’d taken me in before—more out of fear than kindness, I’d imagine.
But now that I’m well-rested and the weather’s allowed me to stay outside, they throw me out. Of course, they do. No one wants a pirate under their roof, regardless of whether they’re good or bad. What matters is the number—the number that tells you how cruel or dangerous someone is. So yeah, I’m not popular. Not by a long shot.
But all they gave me were meals, warm clothes, and a bed to sleep in. The hot water? Too expensive. I’ve learned to wash myself in the snow, wiping myself off with rabbit fur when I’m done. Far from my usual luxuries, even a beard has taken over my face. My old habits are buried now, and a constant feeling of rejection haunts me. But that only fuels my determination to get off this cursed island.
The wind has dropped considerably since I first arrived here. The cold isn’t as biting, and now, I’m free to wait. But not in the port. Not in the city. I know pirates well enough to know they won’t charge into Drum anymore. Not after everything that’s happened. The fear of navy ships or bounty hunters lurking in the area is far too real. But the scent of gold? That’s still enough to draw me out.
So, I trek across the icy waters, jumping from one glacier to another, until I find a sizable iceberg. From here, I can see them approach. From here, I can surprise them. And for once, they won’t recognize me. They’ll either attack or try to help, but this time, they won’t run, and they won’t try to capture me to sell me off alive.
Of course, I’ve brought provisions. I’m well aware this won’t be a quick wait. A few minutes, a few hours? No. This will take days. Bundled up in thick clothes, my face now hidden behind a bushy beard, I silently thank the gods that I didn’t give in to the urge to steal a knife to cut my way through all this. Beards come in handy. Moustaches? I still don’t see the point. But then again, maybe that’s because I’ve never been rich enough to appreciate the art of facial hair.
Anyway, night is coming, and it’s dark.
Days pass. Nothing changes. Below me, the ice melts slightly. The heat from my body, combined with the pressure, causes it to melt faster than usual. Soon, I’ll be able to take a bath. But that’s not the point. It would be nice, but not as nice as seeing that chest again. The one full of jewels, gold coins. And those briefcases. God, I miss those briefcases. Filled with bills.
But as I scan the horizon, I spot something. A large object. Slowly, it begins to take shape. A ship. By the gods, my way out is here. This is it. I don’t care what color their flag is. Black, blue, green, or yellow—whatever. I’ll take this ship and get the hell off this miserable island.
“Black flag…”
I stand cautiously, knowing full well that sneaking aboard will be no easy feat. Getting here was torture, and I’ll be damned if I don’t stay put until the ship comes as close as possible. But their ship? What a mess. Not even a speck of gold on it. Poor bastards, they look like students. The wood is old and worn, the sails filthy—no attention to detail. Damn, I can’t stand people who don’t take care of their own things.
But it doesn’t matter. Right now, I’m in no position to criticize. I probably look just as bad—like a street rat from Grey Terminal. Speaking of those rats… God, they’re filthy, and they’re poor… but not stupid. That’s something, at least. Money doesn’t make you smart. The Tenryuubito are living proof of that. They’re pathetic. Instead of using their wealth to control the world with respect, they choose to be hated. It’s a waste. They could rule the world, make everyone bow to them without ever firing a shot, and yet they squander their chance.
But enough of that. The ship’s almost here. And it’s close, just not close enough. They’re obviously planning to dock somewhere on the snowy shore. The captain isn’t stupid. He knows docking in Drum’s town would be suicide right now. The navy’s watching. But me? I’m unrecognizable now, so it works. Though I’ve never tested this kind of thing before. Oh well. At least I’m not planning much.
I’m getting out of here, no matter what.
Determined, I dive into the icy sea and start swimming with everything I’ve got. Well, mostly with my legs. They’re doing most of the work, and they’re doing it well. Soon, I find my rhythm and reach the side of their ship. They saw me coming, of course. My beard’s not exactly subtle. Still, I climb up their ropes without asking for help. I’m not some little weakling. I’m the captain of the Truands!
“Who the hell are you? What do you want?”
Out of breath, drenched, I don’t even bother to raise my hands in a peace gesture when the entire crew points weapons at me. And who are these guys, anyway? Their weapons aren’t ordinary. There’s a scythe over there, a hoe here, and one guy’s even holding a rake. But the most ridiculous is the kid in the back, trying to intimidate me with a pruning shear. I can’t help but laugh, but I stay stone-faced. I keep it cool…
“Hahahaha!”
“What the hell’s so funny? Stay on your guard!”
“It’s just… hah, are you guys pirates, or farmers?”
“Yeah, that’s what we are! We’re just looking for the best island to grow our veggies! Got a problem with that?”
“No, no, actually I’m here to ask for your help. I’ve been stuck on this island for weeks, and you guys are the only ones who’ve come close to the shore. Could you take me with you to the next land you reach?”
“Wait, hold up. We’ll decide that. Don’t touch anything!”
“Uh, can I get some dry clothes?”
“Man, you’re a pain in the ass! Someone, give him something warm!”
One of the crew, holding a rake, heads down below deck. For me. They’re decent, these guys. It’s rare. Honestly, I haven’t had a decent encounter between pirates in a long while. I’m actually grateful.
“Alright, but there’s something you should know.”
Somewhere, on Grand Line
“Chef, are you aware?”
“Of what?”
“Word is that Django got his hands on the Fruit of Gold and an Eternal Pose leading to Juicy Berry. They say he’s aiming to tip the balance of Grand Line.”
“The Fruit of Gold, you say?”
“Yeah! It’s from Dead End, Jack Calhugan’s territory. With that fruit, he can create endless gold. And they say he’s got Haki, too.”
“Haki? That’s… interesting.”
“Yeah. He might even be able to walk on water with it!”
“Enough with the nonsense. Let’s focus. If he’s headed to Juicy Berry, that’s where we’ll follow. We need to get there before he does. It’s our shot.”
“I thought Juicy Berry was a myth?”
“Not anymore. It’s the richest island in the world. The talk’s been buzzing for years. The real question is, how do we take it from him?”
Django’s journey is only beginning, but already, the stakes are high. The Eternal Pose, the Fruit of Gold, and the dream of Juicy Berry are within reach, and the power he seeks may very well reshape the Grand Line itself.
