Fireworks Island, "Fireworks."
True to its name, the island was famous for Fireworks, the art of Flame.
A number of Fireworks Artisans lived there, working day and night in their workshops, pouring their ingenuity and creativity into crafting Fireworks.
The Fireworks produced there had earned a stellar reputation for their breathtaking quality. During festival season, throngs of tourists would visit the island and enjoy themselves to the fullest.
For the island's tourism industry and everything else, events like these were the biggest moneymakers. Selling food and drinks to the visitors who came to see the Fireworks, collecting lodging fees from guests staying at Inns, hawking souvenirs and other goods for profit.
And the greatest of all these events was the once-a-year Grand Fireworks Festival.
The island's Fireworks Artisans would launch one masterpiece after another, painting the night Sky in color and delighting the eyes of the spectators to their hearts' content.
The magnificent art of Flame, as though pushing back the darkness of the night Sky, was something you could never see on any other island. Absolute must-see. It would be no exaggeration to say that not witnessing this was a loss for your entire life.
...Well, anyway, that was roughly the sort of promotional copy written in the Tourist Brochure.
It seemed to have been produced by something like the Tourist Association of "Fireworks," and given that this was their primary industry, they certainly weren't lacking in confidence. Might actually be worth getting excited about.
I'd been thinking something along those lines while reading the brochure I'd grabbed without hesitation from a "Please take one" display on the regular ferry.
So, I'd arrived at "Fireworks," but...
"Listen up, you dogs! This is an island of Fireworks Artisans, which means it's a treasure trove packed with Gunpowder! Strip it all bare! Sell it, use it, whatever you want!"
"""OOOOOHHHHH!!"""
"Wh-whaaaaa!"
"Pirates!"
The moment I set foot on shore, this.
The Pirate captain had been kind enough to explain his entire plan out loud, but apparently a Pirate Ship that had come to plunder this island's Gunpowder happened to sail into the harbor at the exact same time as our ferry.
The Pirates split into two groups the instant they landed. One charged inland to raid the Gunpowder stores, while the other decided to attack the prey that happened to be unluckily standing right there.
Us. Defenseless tourists.
The ferry company had hired some guards as Bodyguards, but they didn't look all that strong. They were clearly hesitant, and besides, they were hopelessly outnumbered.
So I had no choice but to fight too.
...And this was how it turned out.
"Damn it, she's strong...!?"
"Y-you little... How is some brat doing this to us...?"
Oh, the battle scene wasn't particularly interesting, so I'll skip it.
Having civilians get hurt wouldn't be fun either, so I stepped out ahead of the Bodyguards and caused a ruckus. That drew most of The Pirates toward me, and after that it was just dodge-punch-dodge-punch on repeat until they were dealt with.
A few of them seemed to have ignored me and tried to go after other passengers, but the Bodyguards managed to handle those.
End result: zero deaths, of course, and virtually zero injuries. Great outcome.
The ferry company staff and the other passengers thanked me profusely.
But the ones I'd dealt with were only The Pirates who came at our side.
The other half, the ones who'd pushed inland...
"Ah, excuse me. About the Pirate incident just now... mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Hm?
Someone called out to me, so I turned around, and standing there was...
'...A Marine?'
***
Long story short, there was no need to worry about the damage from The Pirates who'd headed inland either.
A Marine unit already stationed on the island had rushed to the scene and suppressed them almost simultaneously with the moment they started causing trouble.
As it turned out, Pirates who got ideas like this were actually fairly common.
Given that the island dealt with something as dangerous as Gunpowder, the Marines apparently made regular patrols here. Especially during events like this one.
So while the Marines had been putting extra effort into patrols and various security measures inland, The Pirates had waltzed right in and gotten themselves captured without much fuss.
...That was what I was told during the debriefing.
"I see, so you're a Bounty Hunter. Here on the island for sightseeing?"
"Yes. I'd just finished a job, so I figured I'd take it easy for a while. I saw in the newspaper that the Fireworks Festival was coming up, so I took that ferry over there."
"Got it. Not sure if your timing was bad or actually good, but... well, thanks to you, it got resolved without any injuries. Real stroke of luck for everyone else."
That aside, there was one thing bugging me.
About this Marine who'd been asking me all these questions and conducting the debriefing.
Solid build, blunt way of speaking, close-cropped white hair.
Was it just me, or did this person look... familiar?
He looked much younger than the version I knew, or rather, he didn't seem much older than me. Sixteen, seventeen, somewhere around there?
You could join the Marines at that age? Well, this world being what it was, maybe it wasn't so strange. Coby had gotten in just by saying "Please let me join!" and was immediately enlisted, so the system was probably pretty loose... or rather, flexible.
Well, never mind the speculation about Marine organizational structure and employment age requirements. This person really was...
"Hey, Smoker, you still not done with that interview over there?"
"Sorry, not yet. Just a bit more."
Yep. It was Smoker.
He wasn't wearing the thick coat from the Original Work, and he didn't have two cigars clamped in his mouth, so I hadn't been fully confident. But that build and that menacing face. Definitely him.
...His build was so imposing that the standard-issue uniform of a rank-and-file Marine didn't really suit him.
"Well, thanks for your trouble. This time of year, idiots like that tend to show up pretty often, so... the Marines are doing patrols and all, but do be careful out there. Anyway, I'll be heading off."
He was trying his best to use polite language and not quite pulling it off. His natural bluntness kept bleeding through. Well, that was Smoker-san for you, right to the end.
With that, the debriefing was over, and he walked off to rejoin the other Marines. After restraining and hauling away The Pirates I'd knocked out, of course.
After that, the travel company staff resumed their tour guidance with a cheerful "We had a bit of trouble, but let's put that behind us and enjoy the sights of this island!"
A Pirate attack seemed like a pretty big deal to dismiss as just "a bit of trouble," but... well, this was the Grand Line.
The people of this island, or rather this Town, didn't seem particularly shaken either. The Fireworks Festival wasn't going to be canceled; it was still on track to proceed as scheduled.
Things like this could happen anywhere, anytime, and since everything had turned out fine in the end, it was all good... was that the idea? Tough crowd, both the citizens and the businesses.
Well, I'd come all this way, so if they'd said "It's canceled, let's head back," that would've bothered me more. No complaints or problems here.
The Grand Fireworks Festival was still a few days away.
Until then, I'd take it easy and do some sightseeing. With the festival approaching, all sorts of shops and stalls were popping up. This was supposed to be my downtime, after all.
Also, as much as I'd prefer it not to happen, if Pirates or other idiots with bad ideas showed up again like today, I'd intercept them.
Leaving it to the Marines should be fine as a rule, but I didn't want to risk the Town or people getting hurt if they couldn't fully handle it. And if the event got canceled because of it, that would be even worse.
Oh, right. Sightseeing was nice and all, but what if I could actually visit or observe a Fireworks Artisan's Workshop?
Now that would truly be "something you don't get to see every day." Could provide some great nourishment, the kind that stimulates inspiration.
Then again, places like that were generally off-limits to outsiders, and they'd be busy preparing for the event, so my chances were probably slim. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
...But who would I even ask? Did the island have a Tourist Association or something?
For now, I'd ask the people from the ferry company I'd just arrived with. They ran a regular service here, so they'd have to know at least a bit about the island.
To be continued...