I really, really don't want to become like some authors on this site (*cough*NeonZangetsu*cough*) who have dozens of epic stories but many of them are uncompleted and dozens more of them are abandoned... but FUCK!
The plot bunnies man. The fucking plot bunnies. They fucking kidnapped me and took the shape of a pretty bunny girl and mounted me till I saw the heavens and found Samsara.
Many people asked me to do a One Piece fic. Some wanted me to do it with the main character being reborn as a Celestial Dragon. Nice idea, but too easy. Instead... I decided on a little twist.
WARNINGS: You know the fucking drill. If you haven't read my stories yet and know the type of content I put out, then sucks to be you.
I Am Mr. Five
"I can create explosions from any part of my body…"
"Yes, we've gone over this Mr. 5." A woman said, irritation and exasperation thick in her voice.
"And I'm immune to all forms of explosions." I continued, ignoring her exasperation.
"Yes." She said, gritting her teeth, before shaking her head. "You're also an elite bounty hunter working for Baroque Works, and you've never failed a mission before. Now – we have a mission from Mr. 0 – and I don't want to be the one to explain that we failed our mission because you somehow lost your memory by hitting your head on the mast and falling into the ocean."
I frowned, rubbing the side of my head with my middle and index fingers slowly. The swaying back and forth of the ship was doing very little to help my growing nausea and confusion, nor were the cold, harsh night winds. The woman in front of me helped though, to an extent. With bright short blonde hair and bright green eyes, wearing a yellow and orange hat, as well as a short yellow dress with lemon-like patterns, lemon earrings and white high-heeled shoes – I stared at her for a long time, trying to find a way not to be confused, as well as to find something to say that wasn't 'damn you're hot. Wanna fuck?'
"And you are…?"
"Miss Valentine. Your partner."
I blinked. "Whoa. Sweet. How did I bang a hottie like you?"
"Not like that!" She yelled, "Your business partner. Your work partner. Strictly."
"Uh-huh." I nodded. "And what work is it that we do again?"
She gave a 'sweet' smile that wasn't fooling me for a second. "We work for Baroque Works, which is, at the surface, a legitimate business. We're bounty hunters – meaning, we kill pirates and turn in their bounties."
"Whoa whoa whoa –" I stopped her, waving my hands "We kill people?"
Her smile seemed to strain. "Yes –"
"And we can do this legally? I mean – we won't go to jail and shit for killing people –"
"Jail? What? No – we kill them and turn in their bounties for beli. Why would we go to jail? The people we kill are declared criminals."
"Beli?" I asked, frowning, "Isn't that the currency of –"
Wait… Beli… Beli – Mr. Five, Miss Valentine, and did she say –
"Did you say, Baroque Works?"
Miss Valentine looked at me, seemingly satisfied with the recognition in my voice. "Yes. Is it finally coming back to you?"
Baroque Works – Beli – Miss Valentine and Mr. 5 – didn't it sound like –
"My powers… did I get them from eating a… a Devil Fruit?"
"How else would you have gotten them?"
Devil Fruits. Shit. It confirmed what I was thinking – and that wasn't a good thing in the slightest. Devil Fruits meant One Piece – the grand pirate adventure and all that fuck. I hadn't watched or read One Piece in years – and the last thing I remembered about the series was them fighting some guy called Caesar or something…
But, wait – how the fuck did I even get here? I was – I was –
Oh. Yeah. I was on a yacht. During a storm. And I fell into the water.
Shit… did I die?
How'd I end up in this guy's body then? Mr. Five?
"You better get it together, we'll soon be arriving at Whiskey Peak." Miss Valentine said, "And failing this mission is not an option."
Whiskey Peak – Whiskey Peak – damn, I couldn't remember. One Piece was such a damn large world with so many characters and locations and events that I could barely remember half of them. I wasn't a major hardcore fan of the series, I didn't know much about it's lore or history or shit – and I only remembered few important moments. Like Ace dying – Whitebeard dying – oh and Enel, cause the guy was modelled after Eminem. I didn't even remember why Ace died –
But… I did remember Crocodile… and the… Eleabast Arc? Realbastard Arc? Arabeaster Arc? Whatever. I remembered Luffy getting his ass handed to him by Croc at least three times. Why were they even fighting? Some typical villain shit – but I knew that Vivi had something to do with it –
"Vivi…" I muttered.
"So you do remember our mission." Miss Valentine sounded pleased. She reached into her bag, bringing out two photographs. "The boss said, 'someone knows his secret' and we figured out it's these two – Mr. 8 and Miss Wednesday – they are Igaram and Princess Nefeltari Vivi of the Alabasta Kingdom."
It was coming back to me, slowly. I rose to my feet, swaying slightly on the ship and placing my hand on my head.
"Well, do you remember now?" she said, tapping her foot impatiently.
I wagered my options quickly. The first was to tell her that I didn't remember, not really, and that I was actually a guy who came from earth and had no fucking clue how I entered this mook's body. Except, that wouldn't end well in the fucking slightest for me – and I didn't like her tone all that much. God knows what she'd do if I said that.
The second option, was to bullshit my way through it all, and hope I remembered the important stuff quickly enough so I wouldn't get killed. I couldn't go telling people where I was from without looking like a fucking maniac… and I had no bloody clue how I would even get back. Maybe that scientist guy who was popular and made those bear robots could help me? What was his name again? Dr. New Vegas I think –
Gah, why would he even want to help me? He'd be better off dissecting me like some lab rat or trying to prod ideas about how to build nukes from my brain…
Shit – I was stalling and she was looking mighty pissed. How was I supposed to act again? Mr. 5… he was one of those silent-but-deadly mook types wasn't he? So… talk as though I'm a cold professional assassin – like Kiritsugu or Agent 47 – right? So…
"Watch your tone, Valentine." I said. "I remember enough to know that I could as much as touch you and leave you missing a limb. Don't test me."
Damn even I felt that was cold. Miss Valentine flinched back in shock, suddenly looking at me far more warily than before. Her eyes tried their best to avoid mine, and I breathed an inward sigh of relief.
I talked big but I had no bloody clue how to even use my powers. Shit. Shit. Shit. I'd be fucked when it came to actual fighting – or to battle.
Come on brain, remember – remember – how the hell did this guy use his devil fruit powers? The only thing that came to mind was digging my nose for boogers and then flicking it – but there was no way that was right. My mind was fucking with me if it expected me to believe that's how a guy who could make his body explode used his powers.
"How long till we reach Whiskey Peak?" I asked, doing my best to put an emotionless quality to my voice.
Remember… like an assassin, like a hitman –
"Twenty-five minutes." Miss Valentine said, sounding slightly more demure than before.
I nodded. Like an assassin. Be a cool-headed, silent hitman. "Miss Wednesday and Mr 8 are the targets. We waste no time bantering with them. We waste no time entertaining them. We do not even inform them of the fact that they are our targets. We engage them, we eliminate them, and we leave. Is that clear?"
The blonde woman bristled. "In case you've forgotten we're partners, and I'm not your lackey – I don't take orders from you."
Ahh… shit what to do? I'm a bad guy right? What would a bad guy do in this situation?
I spun around, grabbing the woman by the neck – damn she was light – and I held her in the air, feeling my hand squeeze slowly and tightly against her throat. It felt almost effortless, actually, it was effortless, I never remembered being this strong before, being this… powerful.
"That was the old me," I said. "The new me has little patience, and a slowly developing urge to no longer require a partner."
Was I going overboard? Was this too much? I didn't know – I wasn't sure – all I knew was that I was fucked in this situation one way or another. This world, the One Piece world – it was a fucking crazy place – the only way to survive was if you were strong. I couldn't afford to be a pansy – I couldn't afford to be seen as weak, I couldn't afford to be weak –
Er – wait – was she growing heavier? I snapped my attention to the woman held in my hand, and I realized it wasn't my imagination, she was getting heavier – damn – it felt like I was holding a massive set of dumbbells – what the fuck –
I felt my arm straining to keep her in the air. Nope – nope – nope – no fucking way, heavy – she was fucking heavy –
I let her go, watching as she dropped to the deck of the ship, the impact leaving a large enough dent in the wood for her right leg to go through. She coughed and hacked, taking in deep breaths of air as her right hand slowly rubbed her throat, her throat which now had a clear visible bruise in the shape of my hand.
I almost winced at the sight – shit – had I overdone it?
Did I really have to be a bad guy? I mean, sure, I was in the body of one of the bad guys, but did that mean I had to be one? But – who were the good guys in this world anyway? The pirates? Luffy's crew?
I didn't want to join Luffy's crew. Luffy would irritate the fuck out of me with his stupidity and his tendency to never grow. Nami's money-grubbing antics and loud voice would get on my nerves pretty quick, and I only liked her because she was hot. Sanji would piss me off to no end – Usopp was just laughable – and I didn't know what to think about Franky. The only ones there I'd chill with would be Zoro, Robin and Brook – but Zoro was absolutely loyal to Luffy, so that was out. Robin was all too mysterious and wayyy to perceptive, so she'd see through me and any secrets I had with ease. Brook was cool because he was a singing skeleton. Nuff' said.
Then there was Chopper… cute… but too naïve to understand dark humour or sexual jokes. He'd be a horrible drinking buddy.
Fuck. I wouldn't fit in with the Straw Hats at all. And the Straw Hats were the major 'good guys' of the world. Who else was left? Who else could I join? I didn't know – I didn't remember.
Shit. Shit. Shit. The more I thought this over, the more my stomach filled with dread. I'm gonna die again. That was the thought in my head. I'm gonna die – I'm gonna die – I'm gonna die –
I didn't know how to sail or navigate for shit.
I had no clue about basic survival needs when sailing the oceans.
I knew jack shit about the geography of this world.
And, I was a bounty hunter belonging to a criminal organization… meaning I'd most likely killed a shit ton of people, and would be required to keep killing people if I didn't want to be "terminated."
I'd have laughed if it wasn't so fucking terrifying. The odds of me surviving the One Piece world on my own were so fucking low, it wasn't funny.
Oi idiot – you just threatened to kill the one person who might have actually helped you out.
And that thought came to me with a large grimace.
Fuck. What the fucking hell am I doing?
Miss Valentine was still rubbing her throat, and I was still standing around like a jackass. I realized my hands were shaking – they were shaking and shivering like I'd come down with the worst cold of the century. Worst of all, Miss Valentine saw it – she saw how bad they were shaking. No – not just my hands – my legs as well.
"Shut up!" I snapped, gritting my teeth as I tried to get my legs and hands to stop shaking.
Stop shaking damn it!
Stop fucking shaking damn it!
I could tell that my breathing was getting louder, harsher, and I grit my teeth as I tried to stop it. My palms felt freezing cold, and a small line of sweat appeared on my brow. I moved my hand across it, wiping it –
She shouted, slapping my hand upwards –
I winced slightly from the sound, but other than that – the heat, the pressure and the shockwave passed over my skin like a layer of warm water. I stared at the portion of the ship's mast that had been blown clean off – the sheer size of the explosion making my eyes widen in disbelief.
I… did that?
There wasn't even any debris from the explosion. No chunks of burning wood falling from the sky – just bits and pieces of ash that were blown away by the wind. How powerful did the blasts have to be for something like that…?
"What part of you can create explosions from any part of your body didn't you understand?!"
I blinked. "Any part? Even liquids?'
A thought came to me. "Wait, so if I ejaculate into a woman –"
Miss Valentine's face turned red. "I don't know! Why would you ask something like that?"
"Hey, it's an important question. I want to know if I give a whole new meaning to the term 'explosive sex.'"
Her face went even redder. "You – I can't believe it. You don't remember at all do you? You don't remember anything!" She grit her teeth, veins bulging. "You don't even act like Mr. Five - because he'd never have asked such a stupid question, and he'd have known better than to try and wipe his sweat like that!"
I sighed, realizing that my hands and legs weren't shaking as bad as before. "Alright – you caught me. I don't remember – I don't remember my name, I don't remember being a Baroque Works Agent, I don't remember a lot of things – I just remember a few here and there." I turned to her, grimacing at her neck.
"I'm… sorry about that. I was trying to – well – shit, I don't even really know what I was trying to do. I guess I just didn't want you to underestimate me or something – you're an elite agent and bounty hunter – you didn't sign up to babysit an amnesiac. So I wanted to try and… you know…"
"Act like a douchebag?"
I nodded. "Not the words I'd use… but yeah."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm your partner. I'm not just going to turn around and slit your throat while you sleep just because you lost your memory… no matter how convenient it may be."
"Wow. That's… probably the nicest thing I've heard in the brief while that I've had memories."
"Also because it'd get out that I killed my partner and I won't have any partners anymore, because people will think I'm a turncoat – which will lead to someone coming for my head."
"And suddenly, not so nice anymore." I said dryly, rolling my eyes at the woman's 'smile.'
"Also, if we fail this mission, our superiors will probably kill us either way, because they won't care if you lost your memories, or if you lost your arm." Her smile continued, and it was slowly getting creepy.
"What type of shitty organization kills its members just because they fail a mission?"
"Baroque Works." She replied succinctly. "Also, this is an important mission. Mr. 0's identity is at stake – we can't afford to fail… because I like living."
"I can't argue with that. I like you living too."
She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
"Er… shit. What I meant to say was – you know, with you, being alive – and me… it'd be great and all – and er – you know you're… and I'm…"
What the hell was I saying?
I palmed my face.
"….Fuck it. I think you're hot and I'd like to bang you. Multiple times, if possible."
She stared at me.
"I'm not hearing a no…?"
"Wait… for real?"
"If –" she interrupted, still smiling "You somehow manage to get it together, and be the Officer Agent I need you to be, completing our mission by killing the spies, and not getting us killed."
This woman clearly underestimated the power of a guy who wanted to get laid.
"Deal." I said immediately. "You can most certainly count on me."
She rubbed her nose in irritation, before sighing. "Something tells me I'm going to regret this."
Xx I am Mr. Five xX
Despite the damage done to the mast of our ship, we were still able to arrive at Whiskey Peak in relatively safe condition. Miss Valentine made some comments about how the ships were generally built to withstand such damage, in the advent of an enemy attack and what not, it would be able to sail for a long while until it arrived at a place where repairs could be done. I could understand that, considering more than 70% of this world was filled with water, and naval voyages were the only way a person could get from Point A to Point B. It'd make sense for their ships to be built of stronger stuff than what I knew of back home on earth.
What was this planet even called anyway? I'd have to find out.
Though, as it was, I was remembering more and more stuff the more I looked at sceneries, and the more some stuff was mentioned. I remembered about Seastone when she brought up the topic of ships, and I think marine vessels used the stuff at the bottom of their ships when passing the Calm Seas – I think that was what it was called. Seas filled with monsters that were humungous, and seas that had no wind.
The more I remembered, the more it helped, as we made our way from the docks over to the center of the town – we could hear the sounds of what sounded like battle going on.
"Whiskey Peak…" a thought occurred to me, and I snapped my attention to Miss Valentine "…isn't this the place filled with people who celebrate pirates when they arrive, then wait till they're drunk and asleep before killing or capturing them for their bounties?"
"You remember." She nodded. "It's a front for the billions – the lower ranked members of Baroque Works."
Didn't that mean – weren't Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine introduced when…
When the Straw Hat crew was here?
I didn't have any delusions in my mind about taking down the Straw Hats on my own. Nami and Usopp would be no problem, I think, but Luffy, Zoro and even Sanji – those guys were out of my league.
Worse, assuming I was stronger than them, I still couldn't killany of them.
Killing Luffy would be a death sentence. If Garp didn't come charging for me, Shanks would. If Shanks didn't, then Ace would. If Ace didn't, then Dragon would. Someone would come for my head if it got out that I killed Luffy. Someone who would kill me – no ifs, buts, or maybes.
Killing any of Luffy's 'Nakama' would essentially be the same thing. Luffy would hunt me down for the rest of my living days, for as long as I was alive. He would never rest – he would never give up.
Then, there was Vivi. Wasn't she important to the plot? She became a temporary member of the Straw Hats… didn't she? They did the whole 'save the princess' thing didn't they? What'd happen if I killed her here? Did that mean… Crocodile won? Crocodile gained complete control over her country?
Why did I care?
So what if Vivi died and Croc won… why should it matter to me? If anything, I'd be a high-ranking member in Croc's new world. That is, assuming he didn't decide to go super-evil villain and kill off every Baroque Works member in order to keep his secret…
Who was I kidding? That was exactly what Crocodile would do. Once he was done with us – he'd discard us or eliminate us to tie up loose ends.
Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
The problem was – there needed to be a catalyst for Luffy and crew to help Vivi and stop Crocodile, that catalyst was my arrival, me and Miss Valentine, being Officer Agents too strong to handle – Igaram would beg Zoro to protect Vivi, and Nami would overhear that Vivi was a princess, and ask for a billion beli in order to aid her…
How do I remember all this?
The more I thought about the situation, the more I realized that I remembered the events with far sharper clarity than I should – it was an episode I watched more than eight to ten years ago – yet, I still remembered the procession of events as though it happened yesterday –
"Mr. 5, look alive."
I resisted the urge to jerk up at the sound of my title, instead, I turned my gaze down the road. There, I spotted an otter and a vulture – sitting on a sign post, opposite them, there seemed to be members of the billions, fleeing.
"W-we weren't running away! We – we were just –"
"P-please don't report us to the boss!"
Miss Valentine turned to me, irritation in her voice. "Pathetic. So much for the Billions – running away from a bunch of measly pirates. We should take care of them."
Somehow, when she said 'we' I had a feeling she meant 'me.'
"Well?" She said, "Are you going to be the Agent I need you to be, or…?"
The or went unsaid – and a part of me that had self-respect and pride was about to tell her to fuck off if she thought she could bait me around with the promise of sex – of course, that part of me also remembered how long it's been since I'd been laid, and realized that one way or another, Miss Valentine was my best shot at surviving this world.
Alright… enabling Douchebag mode.
The sunglasses wearing otter and vulture (which was far more surreal than it sounded) leaped into the air, seemingly ready to tear a new one to the fleeing members of Baroque works, before I took a deep breath.
My voice carried out across to them. The duo stopped their attack cold, and I stalked forward, doing my best to act as natural and as intimidating as possible. Thankfully, there were a pair of shades in my pocket, and with them on, I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing my eyes and fully reading my expression.
Drama Class Electives – don't fail me now.
"To think that there are such cowards in Baroque Works…" I muttered, putting as much focus as I could on making it sound as irritated as possible.
The only long range attack that I could remember this guy having was flicking his booger. It was a disgusting tactic, but it was one which worked, considering the speed and effectiveness of the explosion. Yet, it was something I did not feel too comfortable using… instead…
Please don't fail, please don't fail, please don't fail – I REALLY don't want to look like an idiot here –
"Wastes of space such as yourself," My palms were sweaty, and I closed my eyes and focused on that sweat "Should simply just vanish."
I was immune to explosions, which, I realized easily enough. However, I was not immune to the sheer kinetic force generated by them. In the same way that Luffy, using his rubber arms, could slingshot himself –
I could propel myself forward using my explosions.
The burst of speed was fast, too too fast – slow down slow down slow down –
I ended up barreling past the Unluckies and straight into one of the three men that had been attempting to flee, and I brought up my right foot in an attempt to stop myself –
Blood. Blood and guts and gore.
It took every last ounce of my willpower not to throw up from the sight of what was left of the man I kicked by accident. What was left of the other two in the surrounding area. The blood didn't even splatter on me – all of it escaped in an arc outward from the point of impact, my foot to the man's stomach.
There was a crater in the ground surrounding the impact point, and more than that, the other two men had been caught in it. They weren't completely blown up – but – but –
The human neck was not meant to bend 360 degrees. Nor were the arms designed to snap backwards –
They were covered with massive third-degree burns, and the entire area was filled with the thick, nauseating smell of burnt flesh and meat.
I was still standing, my right foot extended outward, even as the dust and smoke began to clear. Slowly, I put my foot down, and I put my hands in my pockets, playing it off as though my massacre of the three men had been intentional. I resisted the bile slowly rising in my throat from the smell of burnt flesh that would forever be stuck in my mind. The smell clung to my outfit in a way I wanted to wash off. I wanted to wash it off badly.
Instead, I turned around, gazing at the Unluckies, who seemed to be shell-shocked, unable to move, their eyes bulging and their mouths hung low.
"Tell Mr. 0 – the situation will be handled."
They couldn't argue, they couldn't say anything – instead, the otter got on the back of the vulture and they flew away from the scene of the massacre as quickly as they could. I watched them leave, and a part of me told me it would be wiser for me to take them down now – but I didn't trust my body to move. I didn't trust my hands not to shake or quaver.
Instead, I walked back to Miss Valentine. My hands in my pockets, my mind replaying the kick slowly, over and over again with unbelievable clarity – the force of the explosion –
"Was that Officer Agent enough for you?" I asked, calmly. She didn't respond. She tried to pretend as though it didn't bother her, but it was clear on her face – it did. Still, she nodded.
"T-that… was good enough."
I resisted the urge to snort. I resisted the urge to say something sarcastic, something like, I just massacred three men so I can get in your pants. Hope that really turns you on. Except, I knew the blame wasn't necessarily hers – it was mine. I didn't have to do it – but I did.
Somehow, I thought they wouldn't die. Thought that they'd be immune. I mean – this was the One Piece world filled with all sorts of monsters – surely, explosions created by devil fruits would not be that powerful? And… in canon, in the anime and manga – no one had actually ever died from an explosion… had they? People were hit by explosions all the time and they shrugged it off… didn't they?
The problem was, I wasn't in an anime, or in a manga. Here, there was no board of censors preventing deadly explosions from causing massive amounts of gore.
What was I thinking? My power was to create explosions. Explosions – you know, the thing that a certain group of humans used when screaming 'Allah Akbar' and performing grand acts of terrorism. The things that could cause massive amounts of damage in a battlefield, massive amount of casualties to people participating in said battlefield – the thing that had once been dropped over two cities and led to the deaths of hundreds and thousands of lives –
Can I create nuclear level explosions?
The thought was terrifying. The sheer level of power I would wield –
How was it, that the moron using this power had never tested the limits? How was he not on the level of the Shichibukai or Yonko? He could create explosions on any part of his body, and he was immune to them – he was the ultimate wet dream of every Suicide Bomber.
I could Suicide Bomb people without dying or feeling the repercussions. Over and over and over…
"Heh… heh heh… heheheheheheheheh."
"Mr… Five?" Miss Valentine called out my name with clear concern on her face.
I paid no heed to her, and rose my hands up, now basking in their sweatiness and the realization that my body was the equivalent of a nitroglycerin, dynamite, C4 and TNT factory. But at the same time, it was much, much more.
Explosions were more than just heat and fire. There was also pressure. Shockwaves. The center of an explosion detonated shockwaves of air which rushed out and dealt damage to objects even before the heat and flames did. It was why explosions could shatter glass from far away, even though the actual 'explosion' did not touch the glass in question.
Shockwaves, with enough force, could rupture organs and shatter bones. Unless you were a logia-wielder, you would be dealt massive amounts of internal damage from shockwaves and pressure.
"Miss Valentine," I spoke up, "Let's complete our mission."