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Chapter 12: Bleak Prospects
🕑 Added 2025-08-20 00:06:42 +0000 UTCThat entrance, that power, those visual effects... perfect score!
I, Kyle, declare this a flawless show-off moment!
He wondered if there were any World Government news birds nearby. Would his first battle be recorded? Maybe he'd even get his very own wanted poster?
"Iron Kyle, bounty... hmm, gotta be at least a million berries to start!" Kyle stroked his chin, calculating privately. "Better choose a handsome photo, preferably that shot of me walking on waves!"
Just as he was lost in dreams of his future fame across the seas, Roger's atmosphere-killing booming voice carried over from the ship.
"Gu ha ha ha! Kyle! Nicely done! Hurry back, it's party time!"
Kyle smacked his lips with lingering satisfaction. With a ripple beneath his feet, he gracefully leaped back onto the deck.
That night, a bonfire crackled on deck, painting all three faces red. Several pieces of succulent roasted meat sizzled and dripped with fat, their aroma filling the air.
Roger and Rayleigh raised their cups and clinked them together heartily, producing a dull ring.
"To our future great pirate, Kyle's victorious debut! Cheers!" Roger laughed loudly, draining his rum in one gulp.
Kyle excitedly raised his own cup, about to join in, but Rayleigh subtly blocked him.
Looking down, Kyle saw his wooden cup contained something giving off a sweet, refreshing fragrance... orange juice.
"Minors are prohibited from drinking alcohol." Rayleigh adjusted his glasses, his tone flat but brooking no argument.
Kyle's smile froze on his face: "But..."
"Gu ha ha ha! Kids should drink juice!" Roger refilled his cup with wine, looking at Kyle with schadenfreude.
Kyle indignantly gulped down a big mouthful of orange juice, internally ranting: Tch, orange juice is fine! Orange juice is necessary! Prevents scurvy!
After several rounds of drinks and plenty of meat, Kyle sprawled across a wooden crate, rubbing his round belly and letting out a satisfied burp.
Looking at the ship debris floating in the distance, he suddenly thought of a very serious problem.
"Damn, captain," he said weakly, "we seem to have... lost money on this."
"Hm?" Roger, who was chugging from a wine barrel, looked at him in confusion.
"I smashed their ship to pieces," Kyle said with a pained expression. "All the berries, treasure, food on board... didn't it all sink to the bottom of the sea? We worked so hard and got nothing for it."
Roger paused mid-toothpick, then suddenly understood and slapped his thigh: "You're absolutely right!"
Rayleigh, beside them, helplessly rubbed his forehead. These two always had such unique thought processes.
"Gu ha ha ha! Little Kyle, you've got good ideas!" Roger's face was flushed red from drinking as he stood up enthusiastically and walked over to Kyle. "But money's just a small matter! Your performance today was decent, but there's still lots of room for improvement!"
He held up one finger and waved it in front of Kyle: "Your attack was flashy enough, but the power wasn't refined! If you could add that to it, the destructive force could double!"
"That?" Kyle's CPU was struggling to keep up.
"Haki! Haki!" Roger grinned with a "how do you not know this" expression. "Come on! I'll teach you right now! Let you see what real power looks like!"
Kyle instantly perked up, springing from the ground with shining eyes.
Armament Haki! The standard equipment for New World powerhouses!
Seeing Roger's drunken state, the look behind Rayleigh's glasses filled with danger warnings. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately just sighed deeply, chose to scoot backward, and wisely distanced himself from the "teaching site."
"Watch closely, little Kyle!" Roger planted his feet in a horse stance, took a deep breath, and clenched his right fist. "Armament Haki goes like this—"
His fist instantly covered itself in a layer of pitch-black metallic luster. Aiming at the ship's rail beside him, he threw a fierce punch!
"Hah!"
"CRACK—SPLASH!" A teeth-grinding crisp sound rang out, and time seemed to freeze.
Roger's fist... had punched straight through the ship's hull.
A gaping hole appeared in the rail, and cold seawater was "gushing" through the opening into the cabin.
The atmosphere on deck instantly dropped to freezing.
Roger pulled back his fist, looked down at the hole still gushing water, then at his own fist. Most of his drunkenness cleared on the spot, his expression gradually becoming dazed.
Kyle's excitement and anticipation were instantly petrified, then shattered all over the ground. His pupils contracted sharply, his mouth opened uncontrollably, and he became as abstract as that world-famous painting—The Scream.
The next second, a heart-rending wail pierced the night sky.
"You damn captain aaaahhhhh—!"
Kyle scrambled on hands and knees to the breach, watching the continuously pouring seawater as his heart went cold.
"The ship's sinking! We're done for!" He frantically tried to plug it with his hands, but the water pressure was too much—he couldn't hold it back at all!
"Ah ha ha... this was purely accidental..." Roger awkwardly scratched his head, trying to explain.
"Accidental, my ass!" Kyle was practically crying as he turned back. "Who told you to use your own ship for the demonstration?!"
Seeing more and more seawater pouring in, he had a flash of inspiration and slammed both hands on the hull around the breach.
Wave-Wave Fruit power, activate!
"Get the hell... back out there!"
He channeled high-frequency vibration waves into the ship's hull. The planks around the breach began to vibrate violently at a visible frequency. Under this force, the incoming seawater was forcibly pushed outward, forming a temporary "wave barrier."
Next, Kyle cupped his hands and manipulated the water that had entered the cabin, making it flow in reverse and spray back out through the hole.
After all this, he was already exhausted and drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. But the crisis wasn't over—the hole was still there.
"Hey! Rayleigh! Stop watching the show and find something to patch the ship!" Kyle turned and yelled at Rayleigh, who had retreated to the base of the mast.
Rayleigh sighed again, put down his cup with an "I knew this would happen" expression, and resignedly began searching the ship for planks and tools.
Meanwhile, the culprit, Roger, after his initial shock, looked at Kyle's panicked appearance and finally couldn't hold back, bursting into earth-shaking laughter.
"Gu ha ha ha ha! Little Kyle! You... you looked so funny just now! Gu ha ha ha!"
"Stop laughing, damn it! Get over here and help!"
Finally, through their frantic efforts, the breach was barely patched up with a few planks.
Kyle sprawled out like a dead fish on the soggy deck, staring up at the stars with lifeless eyes, feeling nothing but bleakness ahead.
Was it... Too late to abandon ship now?
