Some time had passed since I was put on the Pirate Ship.
As always, I spent my idle days killing time with a combination of muscle training, daydreaming, and chatting with the Pirates on watch duty.
Beyond that first one who'd spoken to me, the number of people I could talk to casually had grown. Apparently word had spread among the Pirates that there was "an interesting one" aboard. A girl who'd been thrown in a cell and wasn't the least bit intimidated, who actually struck up normal conversation with her guards.
People who found that intriguing started coming to talk to me one after another, and since I had a good time chatting with each of them, before I knew it, I'd gotten on those terms with practically every Watchman in the rotation.
The Pirates had all come aboard this ship at different times and through different circumstances, so each one had a unique tale of adventure to share, which made it fascinating. Same ship, but ten people meant ten different stories. I thought that was incredible. It really drove home just how insane the Grand Line is as a sea, and how every single crew member ends up living through dense, eventful adventures and leading dense, eventful lives.
Some of them weren't even on watch duty but came by during their break time, bringing booze and snacks just to hang out. This room was basically being treated as a break room at this point.
Well, I welcomed it since I got to hear interesting stories and pass the time.
...That said, though.
One of the Pirates had pointed it out to me the other day, and they were right. Here I was, just... normally getting along with the Pirates on this ship, laughing and chatting away like it was nothing.
My peaceful town had been destroyed. So many of my friends and acquaintances had been killed. I myself had been captured and was about to be sold. Normally, if something like that happened to you, you'd be drowning in grief and frustration, fear and anxiety, and above all else, you'd hate pirates with every fiber of your being.
And yet here I was, happily chatting away with those very pirates.
...It wasn't that I'd forgotten. Never. Not those feelings.
I did hate the Pirates. I did feel bitter about my town being destroyed, and I did grieve that everyone had died. I properly felt anxiety and fear about my situation and about what was going to happen to me.
But... how should I put it?
All of those feelings were there inside me, but I'd locked them away, put a lid on them, reasoning that "showing those feelings now won't change anything" and "being needlessly defiant will only get me hurt. There's nothing I can do." And I was able to keep that lid firmly in place.
Then, setting all that aside, I was genuinely enjoying the Pirates' stories.
Ignoring the sealed-away emotions for the time being, I was prioritizing the intellectual curiosity right in front of me. I was honestly, sincerely enjoying my conversations with them, enjoying hearing their tales of adventure.
You could say it was a "that's that, and this is this" kind of deal.
With remarkable ease, I'd found a way to reconcile those feelings and interact with the Pirates.
...When I stepped back and really looked at myself, I was handling this in a way that was pretty far from normal, wasn't I?
Had I always been like this? The kind of person who could be this detached, this matter-of-fact about things, even after having everything taken away in the most horrible way possible?
Was something wrong with me? Yeah. Something was definitely wrong.
I'd been spending my days mulling over things like that, but... a few weeks later, the time finally came.
We arrived at the island where their buyer was waiting.
"...I thought we'd be taken to Sabaody Archipelago, but I guess not."
"Well, sure, there's an 'Employment Agency' over there too... More importantly, I'm impressed you even know about that, missy. Thing is, places for this kind of deal exist everywhere."
Smaller in scale than the Human Auctioning House on Sabaody Archipelago, sure, but in this day and age, human trafficking was a major source of income for pirates, gangs, the mafia, and the like, and there was no shortage of people in the Underworld who wanted that kind of "workforce."
The venues for such transactions existed all over the world, apparently. Even in the Four Blues, let alone the Grand Line.
The place I'd been brought to was one of those nameless transaction sites, a Slave Trader's storefront that served as a trusted client for the Pirate Crew.
There, I and several others were sold off as slaves.
We fetched a pretty good price, it seemed, because the Pirate Captain looked pleased.
Then, at the handover of the Merchandise (that being me), the Pirates who'd been friendly with me all this time said their farewells:
"It's been fun, Missy!"
"Make sure you do what the Slave Trader boss tells ya!"
"Be on your best behavior for your new Master too!"
"Make sure a good person buys you!"
"Sniff... You take care of yourself, ya hear!"
What even was this? Less like being sold off and more like being... seen off?
I'm pretty sure that last guy was actually getting teary-eyed. Well, um, yes. I'll do my best out there.
Watching this scene unfold, the gorilla-powered Captain-san and the Slave Trader they were dealing with stared at us like we were some kind of exotic animals. Which, fair enough.
They'd probably never seen a slave being sent off with forced smiles and even tears. And here I was, the one being sent off, waving with a forced smile and a cheerful "Take care!" back at them.
Yeah. Can't blame them for that reaction.
Anyway, that was how I finally left my cell for the first time in ages, stepped off the Pirate Ship, and... was sold to a Slave Trader.
At my destination, namely the Slave Trader's shop, slaves waiting to be "listed" at auction were each biding their time, so I passed the hours chatting with them.
Not that there were many willing to talk. Most were consumed with anxiety. I only spoke with the few who were in a relatively manageable state of mind.
Among them was someone who'd been born in an impoverished country and had actually eaten better after being captured by kidnappers than before. All sorts of stories out there. That one left an impression.
Well then, it was almost my turn.
As I mentioned briefly before, I was going to be sold in an "auction format."
Around my neck was an ordinary leather collar. Sturdy, though. No chance of breaking it.
It didn't seem to be an Explosive Collar like the ones that appeared in the Sabaody Archipelago Arc of the Original Work, but either way, there was no question it wasn't something powerless ordinary people like us could remove.
From what I could tell, this was an uninhabited island. We'd all been gathered here solely for the auction.
No means of escape either. Yeah, running away was out of the question.
...All I could do was hope to be bought by a halfway decent Master.
Oh, they called my name.
***
[Third-person perspective]
Several days after the auction.
A certain Pirate Crew was... annihilated at sea.
Weeks prior, they had foolishly attacked and destroyed a town under the territory of the Kuja Pirates, pillaging it.
A crew of nothing but women? Nothing to be afraid of. Let them try to come for revenge if they dare. That was how lightly they'd taken it.
They had underestimated the name of the Kuja, underestimated their strength... and now they paid the price.
Every last member of that Pirate Crew had already perished in the naval battle.
The fight had been one-sided from the start. With nearly every sailor among the Kuja being a Haki user, the enemy never stood a chance. Their Captain, the crew's sole Ability User, was struck down early. Neither surrender nor pleas for mercy were entertained.
The handful kept alive for interrogation had just now received their final blow.
"Reporting, Captain. ...As expected, those who were abducted have already been sold."
"I see... Then pursuing them is impossible."
The auction had been held days ago. The Slave Traders and the customers who'd purchased the "Merchandise" would have already dispersed.
They might be able to track down and crush the Slave Trader who'd handled the transaction, but doing so wouldn't bring anyone back.
They had made the Pirates pay for what they'd done, but there was grim news to deliver to the town's survivors. Shakuyaku, Captain of the Kuja Pirates, let out a sigh.
"...Also, Captain. The interrogation revealed something else."
"...?"
"It appears that among those who were sold... Sue was one of them. The description matches based on what we heard."
"Wh-what did you say!?"
"No, Sue was..."
"...I see."
Agitation rippled through the crew at the report.
Shakuyaku, too, maintained her composure on the surface, but inside, grief stirred.
She knew all too well what fate awaited those sold as "slaves."
When you spent long enough in the pirate trade, there were more opportunities than you could count to encounter and learn about the world's Underworld.
A girl who had sailed with them as a true comrade for a period neither long nor short, sharing hardship and joy alike, was now somewhere unknown, sinking into a cruel fate. The thought made even her usual cigarette taste more bitter than before.
If she could, she would rescue her. But there was no way to learn her whereabouts.
At the very least, she prayed that Sue was safe, even amid suffering.
The girl had lost her Homeland to destruction, boarded a Pirate Ship, and even during a voyage that was far from easy, had always been smiling, always seemed to be enjoying herself. A girl whose heart was impossibly strong for one so young.
Surely she could overcome any hardship and still keep smiling. That was what Shakuyaku wanted to believe.
Holding that wish close, she turned and went back inside the ship.
***
Meanwhile, at that very moment:
"Buhihihihi... Listen up. Starting today, I'm your Master. You will obey my every word and work yourself to death. Got it?"
"Yes, pleased to be in your care."
'Ahh... I think I got a bad pull on the Master gacha.'
To be continued...