"...This is insane," Reiju muttered, her voice dry as she peered over the edge of the boat, her blue eyes staring down at me as she looked rather cute.
"You keep saying that," I chuckled back, "But I think this is a pretty genius solution."
I was currently balancing the entire boat on my head, the heavy wooden frame pressing down on my skull as I held it with my arms stretched straight upwards. My back was ramrod straight as the sun, which had now fully risen, was a blazing, oppressive orb in the sky, beating down on me with a relentless heat that made sweat form on my muscular back.
"Genius? You look like an idiot," Reiju shot back, her lips curving into a small, amused smirk despite her dry tone, "Is this really necessary? Couldn't I just, you know, walk? It might be faster than... whatever this is."
"Necessary? Probably not," I shrugged, a gesture that was incredibly awkward given the boat balanced on my head, "But a lot of what I do isn't necessary, and it's helping you save energy."
"Save energy?" She repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion, "I'm the one doing nothing right now! You're the one who's carrying a boat on your head! Why do I need to save energy?"
"It's a useless expenditure of energy if you walk," I countered easily, "I can just carry the boat while you rest, and then I can rest as you pull the boat next. This way, we're both conserving energy and getting rest. You walking next to me is useless, since I need to at least drag the boat anyway, so I might as well carry it."
Reiju stared at me, her expression becoming even drier.
"If you think I can carry the boat like you are," She shot back, her tone flat, "Then you really are an idiot."
"You can drag it," I just chuckled at her words as I continued my walk, "The wood I made this ship out of is damn tough. I doubt it'll even be scratched from being dragged across the rock, so it's not like you'll damage it."
I glanced around as I finished speaking, my gaze sweeping across the massive expanse of the Red Line. In every direction, there was nothing but an endless sea of red, sun-baked rock and sand-dust, stretching out to meet the brilliant blue sky at the horizon. It was a desolate, beautiful, and utterly alien landscape.
I considered just sprinting across the entire expanse, as with my speed, I could probably cover the distance in a fraction of the time it would take to walk. But the thought was quickly dismissed.
This wasn't a race. This was a journey, and it was one I might never make again. I wanted to take my time, to soak in the surreal experience of standing on top of the world, and of walking across a continent of stone that separated the seas.
"Besides," I muttered, my gaze still fixed on the horizon, "It's not like I'll ever be up here again. I figure I should enjoy the view."
And, for the next few days, that's exactly what we did.
The Red Line's summit was a world unto itself. There were no signs of life - no plants, no animals, not even the slightest hint of moisture. It was a world of rock, sand, and wind - a brutal, unforgiving wilderness that seemed to exist outside of the normal rules of nature. In the day, the sun was merciless as it beat down on us with an intensity that made the air shimmer and crackle.
In the night, the world transformed instantly. The temperature plummeted, and an intense wind swept across the desolate landscape. The stars, unfiltered by any light pollution, were gorgeous as they were a brilliant, glittering blanket spread across the infinite blackness of the sky. The night also saved us as the occasional spout of rain came - from where, I wasn't damn sure, as I rarely saw a cloud that wasn't below us, and I had a slight fear about a certain god staring down at me whenever it came - to refill the water bucket, which I was glad about. We could survive a few days without water, and I could just sprint to the other side if we really needed, but the added fresh water made me able to enjoy the journey more.
We fell into a strange yet comfortable rhythm. During the morning and afternoon, I would carry the boat, Reiju sitting above me on the boat like a princess. Then, when the evening came, I'd rest as Reiju begrudingly grabbed the ropes, dragging the boat behind her as she took over until nightfall. At night, we would eat the dwindling supply of fish, huddling together in the boat as we gazed at the stars.
The routine was grueling, but simple. It was in the quiet moments between the grunts of exertion and the endless trudging that our conversations began to flourish, as at first, it was just small talk. I would tell her about my months on the unnamed island, about the mind-numbing monotony of hauling logs and the quiet satisfaction of building my strength - which, of course, I said was just from hauling logs, as I wasn't keen to try and explain to her about my system, both because it would be hard as hell to explain something like that, and because that was information I couldn't trust with just anyone. In turn, Reiju would offer snippets of life in Germa, at first being largely about how great Germa was, but slowly, her true feelings started to drip in.
As the days stretched on, the conversations deepened, as the barriers between us slowly eroded under the vast, empty sky.
"It sounds... lonely," Reiju said one afternoon, her voice quiet as she stared out at the endless red expanse from her perch on the boat. I was trudging along below, the boat balanced on my head as I had gotten quite used to, and her words made me pause for a second, tilting my head back to look at her.
"That island?" I asked, and she nodded, which made me shrug, "Eh, I guess it was at the start. But after a while, you get used to the quiet. It's kind of peaceful, not having to worry about anything but your next meal. I thought building a house was damn hard, and it was, but when you had nothing to do all day but work on it... it really wasn't that bad."
That was truthfully how I felt, and those months on the island had helped me learn a lot about how to survive in this world. It was part of the reason that I was even confident in climbing the Red Line to begin with - because while it seemed hard and insane, once I did it, it... wasn't so hard or insane anymore. The island had taught me that.
My structure, and every attempt at building a boat, seemed so difficult at first. It loomed over my head, making me dread the idea of trying to do such a complicated task. But, once I started, it went smoothly. Once I had the base, suddenly everything else would click into place, and it was all rather easy. The Red Line was the same - when I first started the climb, it seemed endless and impossible. But with every hour that passed, I didn't grow more discouraged, but instead the opposite. With every pull and heave, despite the aches of my body, it became easier. I had done it before, so I knew I could do it again. The impossible task was far from impossible, and I would've never known if I hadn't tried.
It was a mindset like this that I truly believed would help me survive in this insane world.
"I wouldn't know," Reiju murmured, her gaze distant as she pulled me out of my thoughts, "In Germa, there is always noise. Peace and quiet, or being able to do something monotonous like that, isn't possible. Whether it be from soldiers, meetings, or training, there is always noise.
"Sounds like a nightmare," I grunted back, continuing to walk forward as I did, "I'd take the loneliness over that any day."
A small, sad smile touched Reiju's lips as she glanced forward.
"Maybe," She said softly after a short pause, "Honestly... I might as well. You say it was boring, but it sounds like you had freedom. The freedom to just... be. To decide what you wanted to do each day, even if it was just hauling logs. I've never had that. Every minute of my life has been scheduled and planned out to benefit Germa. Even now, I'm only here with you because Father has high expectations of you. I'm here because being with you will benefit Germa."
"It sounds like you were raised to be a weapon, not a person," I said bluntly, making her eyes narrow as she glanced down at me. She didn't say anything for a moment, and even as I could only see her from the corner of my eye, I could tell she was debating whether she was sharing too much. Then, she finally let out a soft, bitter laugh.
"That's exactly it," She nodded, a strange mix of resignation and acceptance in her voice, "We were designed to be weapons. Father modified our very DNA, stripping away our capacity for empathy, and for compassion... all the things he saw as weaknesses. All but me."
She paused, her gaze dropping to her hands, and I didn't interrupt. I knew this already, but it wasn't my place to speak on what I shouldn't know.
"Because I was born first, I escaped that fate," Reiju continued, her voice becoming strained, "While my brothers lost the ability to feel many of their emotions, I've always felt... everything. The pain of the soldiers we were ordered to punish, and the fear of the citizens in the kingdoms we conquered. I had to hide it, and to pretend I was just like my brothers. It was the only way to survive."
I stopped walking for a moment, swinging my arms down, gently lowering the boat to the ground. I turned to face her, my expression serious, as I could read the emotion in her voice. I was surprised she was sharing this much with me, but I wouldn't ignore her.
I liked Reiju. Truly, I did, far more than I imagined I would. In this instance, letting her speak from the heart felt like it was the best thing I could do.
"That must've been hard," I said, my voice softer than I intended.
"It was," Reiju admitted, her eyes meeting mine, and for the first time, I saw a raw vulnerability in them that she kept carefully hidden behind her mask of polite detachment, "Seeing the cruelty, being a part of it, but not being able to feel the same indifference... it's a special kind of hell... Sanji was the only one who understood."
"Sanji?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I blinked, genuinely surprised that she mentioned his name. Sanji was someone that she shouldn't speak about at all - the shame of Judge compared to his brothers, as well as the boy that she secretly helped escape.
"My younger brother," A faint, genuine smile spread across her face, a warmth that lit up her features, "He was like me. He was kind, and he was weak by Germa standards, but he had a heart of gold. Father and the others tortured him for it, but he never broke. He was the only person in that whole damn kingdom who felt like family."
"What happened to him?" I asked, already knowing the answer, but I couldn't tell her that. And, right now, I didn't know how she'd answer. This was a secret that she shouldn't be telling anyone, as I was surprised she even mentioned Sanji's name, but maybe she was more comfortable with me than I thought?
"He ran away," Her smile faded, replaced by a mask of indifference again, "I helped him, and I haven't seen him since. I hope... I hope he's happy out there, somewhere in the world."
"He is," I said, my tone confident and reassuring, "A person like that can't be kept down for long."
While she didn't know it, the confidence in my voice wasn't unfounded. I knew that right now, Sanji was either living as a chef on the Baratie, or was a member of the Straw Hats. He was certainly doing fine.
Her eyes softened at my words, a grateful warmth filling them as she looked at me.
"Thank you," She whispered. Then, she seemed to realize she'd shown too much of her true self, and the mask snapped back into place. She cleared her throat, looking away from me as she puffed out her cheeks.
"Now, get back to work, you idiot," She huffed, her voice laced with its usual sarcasm, but this time it lacked its bite, sounding more fond than anything else, "The boat's not going to carry itself."
"Sure, sure, 'Princess,'" I chuckled, and with a grunt, I hoisted the boat back onto my head, resuming our trek across the desolate landscape, as we both pretended that the raw, vulnerable moment hadn't happened.
Our days continued like that. The vast emptiness of the Red Line's summit became a strange sort of sanctuary, as it was a world removed from the expectations and dangers of the seas below. Our routine of walking, dragging, talking, eating, and sleeping under the stars solidified into a comfortable rhythm. The dwindling pile of D-Rank fish served as a silent clock, a visual reminder of the passing days with each meal we consumed, as we crossed the massive continent that was the Red Line.
Each day, our conversations deepened, and I found myself opening up to her in a way I hadn't with anyone, telling her about Imbale, and even speaking more openly than I probably should be. I told her of my arrival on Imbale, of how I was thrust into being their hero, and of my fight with John Giant.
In return, Reiju painted a vivid and often chilling picture of life in Germa. She told me about the metal corridors of their ships, and about the cold, calculating life she lived under Judge's gaze. She spoke of battles she'd fought, of kingdoms they'd razed to the ground with terrifying efficiency, as her voice was a dispassionate monotone that barely hid the revulsion simmering beneath the surface.
"I once saw my brother, Niji, use lightning to boil a lake," She told me one evening, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon as we ate our meager dinner of fish, "There was a small village on the shore, and Father wanted to make an example of them. They didn't even have a proper army, as they were more like a few farmers with pitchforks. We were supposed to scare them into submission."
Her voice dropped, becoming a barely audible whisper as she glanced downwards, her voice wavering slightly.
"Niji didn't wait. He just... fired. The entire lake turned to steam in seconds, and the village was gone in an instant," She murmured, her eyes hard as her hand shook slightly, "The people... they just... disappeared. He turned to me, grinning, and said, 'See? Much more efficient than a siege.' And I had to smile back. I had to pretend I was proud."
A tense silence stretched between us, broken only by the whistling wind, and I was given a reminder of just how much power mattered in this world. In my mind, Niji was certainly strong, but he wasn't some overwhelming, Yonko-level character. He wasn't the type of person with enough strength to destroy a town and take hundreds of lives in an instant.
Yet, he was. Even if he was lacking compared to someone like Big Mom, compared to a regular human, he might as well have been a god. In the context I had seen him on a screen - where he was fighting against Big Mom's crew and only managing to hold his own - was against other fighters of the same calibre. In comparison, he didn't seem all that scary, but in reality, he could easily kill hundreds of normal, everyday people with barely any effort.
Now, I was the same way. I was the same type of person who would destroy entire buildings with punches, and who had the strength to rip trees out of the ground. I didn't feel like it, because I was just... me. As I grew in strength, I knew I was stronger, but I didn't really feel it. I was a man who could kill hundreds in mere minutes. I was the same, but I could never imagine doing what Niji had done. While I was a monster in one way, we were monsters from a different cloth.
"He's a monster," I said, my voice flat.
"They all are," Reiju replied, a profound sadness in her tone, "I sometimes wonder if my empathy is just another form of weakness, like my father always said. But seeing what my brothers are... I'd rather be weak."
"You're not weak," I said, my gaze intense as I turned to her, "It takes more strength to feel all that and still stand than it does to feel nothing at all."
Her breath hitched, and she slowly turned to look at me. Her blue eyes, usually so composed, were shimmering as she held back tears from forming in them. For a long moment, we just stared at each other, the world around us fading away. Then, she quickly looked away, a deep blush creeping up her neck.
"You're just saying that," She mumbled softly.
"I'm not," I shot back simply, glancing away from her as well, "This world is full of monsters. More than you, or even I, know. But, while those monsters wield strength, they are not strong. It is far easier to be the giant stepping on an ant, than it is to be an ant fighting to not be squished."
With that said, we fell into a long silence.
That night, as we settled into our usual spot in the boat, she didn't hesitate or say any reasoning this time. She immediately snuggled up against me, her body warm and soft against my hard frame. Her arm wrapped around mine, pulling it into the soft warmth of her chest as she did before, but this time felt different. More intentional. I felt her bury her face in my shoulder, and I heard her take a shaky breath before her breathing evened out into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. I stayed awake for a while longer, my gaze fixed on the infinite tapestry of stars above, and I felt a strange warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with the blanket.
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The days bled into one another, a monotonous yet strangely peaceful cycle of walking, dragging, and talking. Finally, after more than a week, we reached the end. The last of the D-Rank fish had been consumed that morning, the pile now just a memory of scales and bones. The Red Line, which had seemed like an endless, impassable wall when we first started, now had a definitive end. The flat, desolate expanse we had been traversing abruptly terminated in a sheer, vertical cliff that plunged down into an abyss of nothingness.
We stood at the top, the wind whipping our hair and clothes as we stared into the void. The ocean was so far below that it was completely invisible, lost in a hazy darkness, as above us, the sky was a breathtaking vision of black, scattered with what seemed like a billion brilliant stars, glinting with an intensity I'd never seen before.
"I might actually miss this place a bit," I hummed, glancing around at the desolate yet beautiful landscape.
Reiju turned to look at me with a deadpan at my words.
"There's nothing up here but rock and sand. What the hell could you possibly miss?" She asked, her tone flat, "If you want a bunch of rocks and dust that much, then there's probably a ton of islands that can suffice."
"That's true," I chuckled, nodding in agreement, "But it's so... peaceful up here. All there is to worry about is walking, and I've enjoyed our talks."
A faint blush dusted her cheeks at my admission, and she quickly looked away, back towards the endless expanse of sea below.
"I'm still with you, so we can still talk on the boat," She muttered, blushing slightly, "It's not like anything will change."
"I know," I said, my smile softening as I turned to fully face her, my gaze warm, "But it was nice to just spend some time, just the two of us, up here without anything to worry about."
Her blush deepened, spreading from her cheeks down to her neck. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, seemingly at a loss for words. I looked back out at the void, my own thoughts drifting.
This whole endeavor... it had been crazy. A pointless, dangerous, and utterly unnecessary risk. Truly, while there was a lot of bullshit in the Grandline, I doubted that any of it would be more difficult to deal with than climbing the Red Line. But it had also been... fun.
A break from the intense action, the kingdom-building, and the constant threat of powerful enemies I'd been dealing with since I'd arrived in this world. It felt like a filler arc, a slice-of-life episode in the middle of an epic saga. The quiet moments you rarely saw in the grand narrative - the kind of moments Luffy and Usopp had as they fished off the side of the Going Merry, or when Sanji rushed around the ship cooking, eagerly trying to impress Nami and Robin. A brief respite from the chaos, and a chance to simply be normal.
And in this respite, I'd found a connection with Reiju that I hadn't expected. She was more than a Germa Princess, and more than a potential ally. She was smart, kind, and beneath the mask of a soldier, a woman who carried a heavy burden. I'd come to like her. I'd come to like her a lot.
"This was a nice break," I said, my voice thoughtful, "But I'm sure we'll be back to some action and chaos soon enough."
I slowly lowered myself and sat down on the very edge of the cliff, my legs dangling over the abyss. I glanced over at Reiju, a wide grin on my face.
"So, for one last night, let's relax here before we head down."
Reiju hesitated for a second, her blush still evident, but then she nodded. She stepped forward and sat down on the ledge next to me. We sat there in comfortable silence for a long while, staring out at the star-dusted sky above and the endless darkness below. Then, as the minutes stretched on, she slowly leaned to the side, her head coming to rest gently against my shoulder. The warmth of her body seeped into mine, being a silent, comforting presence. I didn't move, as I just sat there, a slow, contented grin spreading across my face.
Yeah. This world was pretty damn awesome.
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"Almost there!" Reiju's voice echoed up from below, a small, pink speck against the vast, red wall. I grunted in response, my fingers finding purchase in a familiar crevice, my muscles burning with the familiar strain. The descent, while still a monumental task, had been significantly easier than the ascent. Gravity was now an ally, not an enemy, and instead of fighting to haul thousands of pounds upwards, I was focused on controlling their downward momentum, a process that was more about controlled slides and friction than pure, agonizing lifts.
"Be prepared to make sure the raft lands upright!" I called down, my voice strained, "It'd be annoying if we had to flip it over and everything got all wet!"
"Got it!" She called back easily, and I focused back on the matter at hand.
My hands, toughened by my high END and now covered in a thick layer of calluses, were my brakes. I'd dig them into the rock, creating shallow, finger-shaped grooves in the stone as I lowered myself a few feet at a time, practically sliding down the wall. Compared to the day-long, muscle-tearing struggle to get to the top, the journey down had taken barely half that. The exhaustion was still there, but it was far less than before.
With a final, careful release, I lowered the boat the last few feet, my fingers sliding down a bit more. Reiji, her movements quick and efficient, hopped off as soon as the hull touched the water, using her own strength to guide and steady the raft, ensuring it landed upright with a plop. I followed, dropping the last few feet onto the top of the boat as it steadied in the water. I straightened up, a wide grin spreading across my face as I stretched my aching back, feeling a dozen bones pop back into place. I reached up, my fingers starting to untie the ropes around my shoulders.
"Damn," I let out a contented sigh, "It was nice to be up there, but it's damn nice to be back down on the sea, too!"
"That was enough insanity for the year," Reiju muttered in agreement, stepping closer to help me with the ropes, as her fingers brushed against my shoulder and a faint blush colored her cheeks, "I can't believe we just did that..."
"Get used to it," I met her blush with a confident smirk, leaning in slightly, "If that's all you can handle, then you might as well leave."
"Really?" She met my smirk with one of her own, a playful challenge glinting in her blue eyes as she huffed, tilting her chin up defiantly, "I can handle whatever you can throw at me, so don't worry about it. This was a good warm-up, I guess."
I chuckled at her fiery response, and our hands worked together to quickly undo the last of the knots. The ropes, stained with my blood and sweat, fell away, pooling onto the deck of the small boat as I was glad to be free of them. I took a step back, sinking into my familiar chair with a relieved sigh, and my hands moved automatically, reaching down to untie the rope securing the paddle. Once it was free, I slotted it into its notch, my grip already tightening around the handle.
"Wait, you're going right away?!" Reiju's eyes went wide, her voice filled with exasperation, "Without resting again?! It's not like the journey down was much easier than the way up!"
"No, it was," I chuckled, shaking my head at her concern, "Trust me, it was much easier. I'd even say it was pretty damn easy, honestly."
"Easy?" She stared at me like I'd just sprouted another head, "How? You were still climbing down a giant, vertical wall!"
"Going down is different," I hummed back, "I wasn't fighting gravity the whole time. I was basically just sliding, using my hands to control the speed, and my skin's tough enough to handle that without too much damage. You were just hanging on, so it probably felt the same, but for me? It really wasn't that hard."
Reiju muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'insane monster,' her cheeks puffing out in that cute way they did when she was flustered, which made me chuckle, but then she continued.
"I really think you should rest," She insisted, her tone softening with genuine worry.
"I will," I promised, my grin never fading, "I'll just get us away from the Red Line, so we're not risking crashing into it. Then, I'll fish for a bit while we drift towards our destination."
"Our destination? Where are we going in this sea?" Reiju asked, her gaze sweeping over the endless expanse of blue water around us, "You said you had something to check in the East Blue, right? But you never said where we were going in this place."
My grin widened, a thrill of excitement running through me as I looked out at the horizon, the bright morning sun glinting off the waves, "Have you ever heard of..."
It was the place I had always intended to go, as it would give me the biggest clue as to where in the timeline I was. It was the perfect starting point.
"Goa Kingdom?"
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AN: Thank you for reading! I had to take a break, but I'll be back to updating all my stories more frequently again!
There are also 12 more chapters posted on Patreon.com/Koyon ! This and all of my stories are updated twice as often on there!