Life sailing the vast ocean is often monotonous. Days drift by like logs on the water, just waiting for a spark to ignite some excitement. Otherwise, one could grow idle enough to gather mold.
Swimming or fishing could pass the time, but only briefly. After a while, even the hand holding the fishing rod would ache from boredom.
Lately, however, the crew of the Black Serpent hadn't been bored at all. They had a daily performance to watch – one that felt novel and exciting no matter how many times they saw it, stirring feelings of… envy.
Jacks had eaten the Devil Fruit Wilder had given him. As confirmed, it was indeed the Bird-Bird Fruit, and like many Zoan users, Jacks seemed to grasp its basic applications the moment he consumed it.
From that day forward, the Black Serpent gained an overseer capable of scouting from above, a ranger of the skies.
High above the ship, a black shadow would streak across the blue expanse, diving and turning, moving with the speed of lightning. The crew below watched with rapt attention, completely engrossed, as if gazing upon their former selves… no, their future selves.
They all knew… Jacks could fly now. He had been one of them, technically their squad leader which was a step up, but still fundamentally among the lower ranks.
And now…
What was that saying? He got incredibly lucky?
Jacks must have been that lucky guy, receiving such a gift directly from the big boss, becoming a birdman, free to soar wherever the winds took him.
Alright, honesty compelled them to admit they were jealous. Crass thoughts about 'birdmen' and 'luck' were just the product of sour grapes and envy. But who wouldn't wish they were the one chosen?
The crew watched the black shadow wheeling freely in the sky above, practically green with envy, lost in gloomy thoughts.
This period became Jacks' personal showcase. Deeply grateful for Wilder's trust and investment in him, Jacks trained relentlessly every day, determined to repay the favor quickly and prove worthy of that trust.
Flying out! Banking! Diving! Falcon Claw! Wing Slash! Wind Shear!
He practiced various maneuvers, rapidly progressing from initial stiffness to fluid proficiency. His flight became like the wind, sharp as a blade. Such quick mastery was one of the advantages of Zoan fruits.
Two days prior, Wilder had officially announced Jacks' promotion to the rank of Black Serpent Officer, a fact duly recorded by Secretary Claire. While the crew simmered with envy, they also saw a glimmer of hope, and their own ambitions began to stir.
This was precisely the effect Wilder intended. What was the purpose of a promotion system? Simply to gain one more officer? No. It was to foster cohesion and ambition among the lower ranks. When those at the bottom have a drive to strive upwards, the entire organization grows stronger, ensuring a continuous flow of capable talent moving up through the ranks.
Aside from Jacks's captivating aerial displays, another matter increasingly drew the crew's attention: Wilder, their big boss, had been unusually quiet lately.
While he had never been particularly talkative and often maintained a reserved silence, his current reticence was extreme. He had barely spoken more than a few sentences in days.
The regular crew merely found this curious, not dwelling on it further. But Claire, serving as his secretary and harboring… certain feelings for him, was deeply concerned. She frequently sought him out, offering shoulder rubs or bringing tea, but her efforts seemed futile; Wilder remained withdrawn and unchanged.
Wilder himself was either unaware of his crew's thoughts or simply too preoccupied to care.
His quietness stemmed from the same reason Jacks was so active: he was training.
Ever since departing that island of malice, he had been constantly engaged in a form of training – or more accurately, in digesting the gains from their subterranean encounter.
The primary gain being: swamp imbued with life.
He had later found the diary belonging to the mastermind (the small creature) back in the tavern and finally learned the nature of its ability.
It was a Paramecia-type fruit called the Evil-Evil Fruit. It granted the user the ability to actively conceptualize and materialize things. Its direct offensive power was negligible, but it allowed the creation of those monsters called 'Evil'. The user could also absorb 'evil' from the corpses of the dead to create more monsters. These monsters possessed some attack power, though not much. Their truly strange aspect was the ability to dissipate into black mist and reappear anywhere within the user's range of control. They could also engulf victims, either suffocating them or transforming them into 'Evil Soldiers' – a process that apparently took some time.
So, that black mist was essentially composed of entities possessing rudimentary life features. Wilder still didn't understand how his own abnormal soul had utilized this foreign substance to unlock a new function or technique for his swamp powers.
Regardless, the result was that Wilder now possessed a new type of technique he could employ.
It wasn't quite an inherent characteristic of his fruit, but rather a derived ability stemming from some partial mutation or integration.
And this new technique unexpectedly aligned perfectly with the idea he had been contemplating earlier – the one he thought might be impossible to achieve.
Through sheer coincidence and strange circumstance, he had obtained it: a swamp entity capable of independent action.
Just how independent it could be was now one of the main focuses of his training. Currently, he found he couldn't maintain control or cohesion if the 'living swamp' moved beyond his line of sight. Progress on that front had stalled. Breaking through that visual limitation, he suspected, would not be easy. He had already confirmed this after numerous attempts.
The reason his crew hadn't noticed his intensive training wasn't because he was deliberately hiding it. He simply spent most of his time in the captain's cabin. Even when outside, practicing this new ability rarely required him to physically release large amounts of swamp. Unlike training standard techniques or properties, he had grasped the basic 'activation' of this skill almost instantly upon absorbing the mist. His current efforts were focused on fully digesting the change and refining his control to higher levels.
This internal training continued for a long time. Calculating from their departure from headquarters, over a month had passed on their voyage. They had encountered several islands along the way, stopping only once for a brief resupply, never lingering.
Whenever they passed unknown islands, Wilder instructed Ashin to mark them on their charts; these locations might prove useful later.
As established before, the East Blue was immense, containing vast stretches of uncharted waters. These areas remained unexplored for various reasons – perhaps lacking resources, perhaps fraught with danger – resulting in no established sea routes. Some were truly unknown territories, never before visited by outsiders. For now, systematic exploration wasn't a priority for anyone, including Wilder. He had far more pressing matters to attend to.
The Black Serpent continued its exploratory voyage. Another half-month slipped by, until finally, a sizable island appeared on the horizon. Wilder gave the order to make landfall and replenish their supplies.
"We depart again in two days," Wilder announced to his officers. "Prepare your necessary requisition lists."
"Yes, Boss."
This time, Wilder didn't intend to join the main supply run into town. He left Jacks and several dozen crew members to guard the ship and slipped ashore alone.
He walked along the coastline, moving steadily away from the bustling port sounds, seeking quieter, more secluded areas. Eventually, he found himself entering a forested region on the island's rear southeastern side.