Jack Sparrow did not slow down.
If anything, he became worse—worse in the sense that Dorry and Brogy had begun to notice something unsettling. Most humans broke in predictable ways. Their muscles failed first. Then their breath. Then their will. Jack, however, seemed to bypass the usual order entirely.
He was bruised, scraped, half-limping, and still smiling.
Again.
His boots dug into the earth as he lunged, sword flashing in his left hand. The cut was shallow, more a test than an attack, but the intent behind it was sharper than before. Dorry shifted his stance, blocking with the flat of his blade. The impact rattled the clearing.
Jack skidded back, boots carving a shallow trench, and immediately stepped forward again.
"Again," he said.
Brogy frowned, arms crossed. "He shouldn't be improving this fast."
Dorry didn't answer right away. His eyes followed Jack closely as the human adjusted his grip, shoulders loose, posture different from even an hour ago.
Jack attacked again.
This time, the timing was right.
The moment before impact, haki engulfed the blade. A narrow, controlled spread along the edge of his blade. The contact rang sharper than steel on steel should.
Dorry's eyes widened slightly as he was forced to step back.
Jack froze.
Then he blinked.
"…Did you see that?" he asked.
Brogy snorted. "Hard not to."
Jack laughed, breathless. "I've been told I have good talent."
"By who?" Dorry asked.
Jack shrugged. "An old woman who kicked me out of her house. And an old man who I robbed his ancestral wealth off."
That earned a rumbling chuckle from both giants.
They attacked him together next.
Jack didn't last long.
But by the looks of it, soon he would he on atleast equal footing with the Giants.
---
Not far away, Pintel and Ragetti were having a very different sort of training.
"I'm telling you, this is unfair," Ragetti complained, rolling his shoulders as he squared up. "You've got tricks."
Pintel twirled his spike lazily. "You've got fists. Everyone's got something."
Ragetti charged.
Pintel activated his Devil Fruit just as Ragetti swung. The punch slowed midair, dragging through the air like it had been dipped in syrup. Ragetti's eyes widened.
"Oh come on!"
Pintel sidestepped easily and smacked Ragetti on the back of the head with the flat of his spike.
"Too slow," Pintel mocked.
Ragetti growled and pushed forward anyway, muscles straining as he forced his slowed limbs to move. Inch by inch, he closed the distance, teeth clenched.
Pintel hesitated.
"Wait—hey—"
Ragetti headbutted him.
The slowdown dropped instantly as Pintel lost focus. He flew backward, skidding across the dirt.
Ragetti stood over him, panting. "See? Fair."
Pintel groaned. "I hate you."
They didn't get to continue.
A thunderous boom rolled through the island as Dorry and Brogy's weapons collided again. The shockwave rippled outward, flattening grass and kicking up dust.
Pintel was lifted clean off the ground and thrown like a sack of grain.
"—AAAGH!"
He vanished into a cluster of bushes.
Ragetti staggered, barely keeping his feet. "That… counts as me winning."
---
Crocodile watched the clearing from a distance, arms folded, cigar clenched between her teeth.
Jack's growth irritated her.
Not because he was improving—but because he was doing it naturally. Adjusting. Learning mid-fight. She'd spent years clawing her way to strength, grinding herself raw against stronger enemies. Jack Sparrow stumbled into it with a grin and a bottle of rum in hand.
She exhaled smoke slowly.
Something felt wrong.
The sensation crept up her spine like cold sand slipping into a boot.
She'd felt it once before.
In the desert.
Just before she met Jack for the first time.
Crocodile narrowed her eyes.
Augur was already gone.
She'd noticed the moment he slipped away from camp, rifle slung over his shoulder, expression tight. He hadn't said a word, but she still noticed.
Gibbs had been missing for two days.
Crocodile ground her teeth.
She trusted instinct more than coincidence.
Turning away from the clearing, she followed Augur's trail into the forest.
---
Augur moved carefully.
The forest here was dense, the air warmer the closer he got to the volcano. Ash clung faintly to leaves. The ground trembled occasionally—that should have been a warning.
He found Gibbs near the base of the volcano.
Wrapped in leaves.
And animal dung.
Augur stopped dead.
"…I don't even want to know."
Gibbs was unconscious, breathing shallow, face pale beneath the grime. Augur poked him cautiously with a stick.
Nothing.
He poked again.
Gibbs twitched.
Augur poked harder.
Gibbs snapped awake with a scream, flailing wildly before collapsing back against the ground.
"—DON'T LET IT EAT ME!"
Augur stepped back. "It's just me."
Gibbs blinked. Focused. Then his eyes widened in horror.
"The volcano," he croaked. "It's going to erupt."
Augur's expression hardened instantly. "Are you sure?"
Gibbs swallowed. "Very."
He struggled to sit up, grabbing Augur's coat. "The fighting. The shockwaves. It's destabilizing the magma chamber. It's already rising."
Augur didn't hesitate.
"We have to stop them."
---
Crocodile arrived just in time to hear the word erupt.
Her blood ran cold.
She stepped out of the trees. "Explain. Now."
Augur turned sharply. "You must felt it too. The ground shaking slowly."
Crocodile nodded once. "The volcano's getting angry."
Gibbs coughed. "If Dorry and Brogy keep fighting… this place is done."
For a moment, none of them spoke.
AN: For the next two weeks, my updates will be erratic due to exams.