One Piece; The Great Pirate Era

"Can do!" Flint exclaimed to the captain's retort, as he stuffed his face full of bread and fruit. Once the boat reached the sandy shores of the island, with the calm rushing water, and echoing bells, Flint carried a handful of fruit and bread in both his hands.

He almost had to hug it, to carry the entire load. And that wasn't all of it, he also had a large loaf of bread in his mouth, which he was chewing from at the moment. Once the boat began to sail back, Trouillefou beckoned them forward, which Flint obeyed. Gasping refreshingly, after finishing his loaf of bread and some sweet fruit, he took in the entire scenery.

However there were no fires, no pits of hell, or judges with big mallets. It just seemed like an ordinary island to him. Yet this judge was around here, somewhere, maybe. Not only was he guaranteed a boat, but these people seemed alright.

Breathing in heavily, his gut expanded, before he shouted, "Hey Judge guy! Where are you!? Show yourself!"

Hearing Flint, Trouillefou spun around and quickly clasped a hand over his mouth.

"Quiet!" he hissed lowly. "Do you want to get caught before we even reach him?" He then motioned towards some of the men near the harbor who were clearly guards of some sort. However, the guards had heard Flint's outburst and were looking towards them.

"I'm right here, you idiot," Blood said as he grabbed Flint. "You stupid drunk." Without even waiting to see how the guards reacted, Trouillefou led them away from the harbor and towards the main center of town. Blood continued to hold onto Flint tightly, expecting he would have another outburst after his last remark.

When they were free from the guards' gaze, the town was starting to become more apparent. In the center of the town was the giant bell tower and it looked even more magnificent up close as it appeared to touch the sky. People were bustling to and fro and there various stands with people selling an assortment of items. There were occasional guards but it was clear they were not expecting much to happen. No one seemed to be in any harm or feel threatened in any way.

However, towards the far left of the town stood an odd wooden platform. It looked as though it had once been used as a means of entertainment, a stage of some sort for any festivals that would occur throughout the year. But now, all there was was a large pole that stuck out from the center with dry wood surrounding it and some rope dangled around it. As if it were just waiting for someone to be its next victim.

Being thrown up on Hawkins shoulders, Flint growled annoyingly. "Hey let me go!" He exclaimed, as he was being carried away from the shore. "You're the drunk, not me! I can smell it on you!"

Once they entered the village however, he wasn't being forced around anymore. And instead he enjoyed the energetic life this town gave off. It was completely a different life and energy to that of Rum Drum Island. Flint didn't know where to start first, there was too much to look at, especially as the others continued to walk and he had to keep up.

Still he continued to observe, not watching every step he took. Few people almost bumped into him, but they moved out of the way, way before any impact could take place. There were market stands for food, places preparing food, even shops for all kinds of souvenirs and trinkets.

The last thing he took sight of, was the lone and desolate stand. It seemed to be in a lot of disrepair, but the pole seemed to be maintained. He wasn't sure why and he was also even more clueless as to where this evil person was. With a town this awesome feeling, how could one even complain?

While Captain Trouillefou was starting to lead the two towards a white dome building with pillars and statues along the top (anyone who saw this building could easily guess this was the justice building of the town), there was a sudden commotion occurring towards the farther side of town. A group of soldiers were pushing a number of men towards the wooden platform. Upon closer inspection, it was Captain Trouillefou's men.

They were close to the entrance to the building now but out stepped a man dressed in black robes with a guard by his side. Trouillefou took a step back as he placed his hand out to stop both Blood and Flint. His hair was gray and he looked to be rather old. But his sneer said it all in terms of his personality as he started walking towards the wooden platform, not taking any notice in the three.

Sight seeing the entire wondrous town, Flint took a moment away from inspecting it, to look at Trouillefou. "I don't know what you're talking about, this place seems pretty nice." He said. "Everyone seems happy to..." He added, before Trouillefou stopped them abruptly soon after.

Confused, Flint just stared in the direction he was looking at. It was the same platform from before, but now people were on board it. It wasn't as desolate and unlively as before. "Huh..." He uttered, before slapping his hands, "Oh neat! They're going to do a play!"

Trouillefou started moving towards the platform as his comrades were being tied to the pole in the center of the platform. He didn't hear Flint's comment as he was already on the move. However, Blood had heard it and he rolled his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered before following after Trouillefou. "Come on."

Meanwhile, the man that had come out of the building was already on the platform and people were beginning to encircle the area.

"It seems we've found some gypsies in our midst," the man began. "Tell me, where is your captain?" However, it was quite clear the gypsies had no intention of giving such information away as they looked at one another. "If you tell me, you will be pardoned for your crimes against humanity." But still, the crew of gypsies said nothing. The man frowned at their lack of cooperation. "Very well." Suddenly, a small flame had appeared in the palm of the man's hand. There was no doubt now that this man was obviously the Judge Trouillefou had mentioned.

"And he shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!" he said before shooting the small flame down towards the pile of wood at the crew's feet.

Flint was completely confused as to what was even going on, going so far to frown and cross his arms. "This play stinks." He added disappointedly. However when the man began to create a flame, his eyes widened. This was the man they were talking about before and he was going to hurt those gypsies. He still wasn't clear on the whole story, but that didn't matter, burning people was going too far.

Hawkins and Trouillefou weren't doing anything about it. From within the large crowd of villagers, guards, and his undercover partners, Flint fired his first pistol. The gun belched out a cloud of sparks and smoke, as the bullet zipped onto stage. It slapped straight into some of the brush the man's fire touched, smoldering it momentarily.

Before too much confusion occurred or after some did, Flint hopped onto the stage, staring at the fire maker. He held his hot and smokey gun in hand, with a determined frown, which befell onto the Judge. "So you're that judge guy?" He asked curiously. "I thought your fires would be a lot bigger, this is kind of disappointing."

As the Judge was about to set the wood on fire, Trouillefou was about to step forward and intervene. However, Blood stopped him from doing so.

"That's exactly what he wants you to do," Blood said lowly as he pulled the captain back. Suddenly, the two jumped at the sound of Flint's shot. Screams were heard throughout the crowd as many had no idea where the gun shot had come from. The guards that were on the platform held up their weapons, ready to attack whoever was intruding. The screams were soon followed by confused chatter.

The Judge looked at Flint in confusion but also with a definitive sense of hatred for interrupting him.

"Who are you?" the Judge asked, a clear hint of disgust present in his voice.

Flint stared at the guards, armed with their weapons, before slowly looking back at the Judge. Little happened in between his intervention and now, except for utter confusion and hysteria for the crowd and annoyance from the Judge. Once he addressed Flint, he grinned.

"I'm Flint, a pirate." He replied, "So I thought we could talk this over, what's with all the burning? You couldn't think of a fairer agreement?" Flint asked, as if talking would solve anything, especially against the likes of this person.

"These men are criminals. I'm sending them back to hell where they belong," the Judge said simply. "And since you're a pirate, you'll be joining them."

The Judge then motioned towards his four guards and the guards obediently began to walk towards Flint.

From below, Blood and the captain were watching the exchange. But Blood didn't interrupt Flint and the Judge's conversation despite the fact he knew it was futile.

"Stay here and don't get yourself caught," Blood said as he saw the soldiers approaching Flint. Captain Trouillefou backed away a bit as Blood climbed onto the platform next to Flint. "So how do you wanna work this kid?"

Once Hawkins came to his side, he pointed to him, before looking at the Judge. "He's a pirate to." Flint explained seriously, as if to explain that he should or would get the same punishment as him.

Once the guards encircled them closer, one jabbed Flint with his spear. It was more of a gentle poke and gesture, still forceful though, to show them their place in front of the Judge, as well as to imprison them.

Angrily Flint threw an upwards fist into the first guard, who had previously poked him, square into the chest. Sucking for air that was not coming, they grunted, before caving in on themselves, and dropping out cold on the platform. However as annoyed as Flint was, he did not attack the other guards.

"Listen here, I didn't come all this way to fight your thugs!" He growled, "Or do you think you don't have the guts to fight me!?"

Blood released an exasperated noise as he heard Flint mention that he was a pirate. Of course he had to go an do that.

With the one guard knocked out cold, the others merely stood there, unsure what to do. However, they were instinctively starting to back away from Flint. The Judge, however, frowned angrily at his plight and the response from his men.

"What do you think you're doing? Get them!" the Judge demanded. His tone of voice would scare any man who disobeyed it. So the guards started moving forward once again, this time much more assertive than before, willing to show no mercy.

One of the three remaining guards aimed towards Blood while two went after Flint. As a spear came towards him, Blood moved to the left. The spear passed him and Blood grabbed it forcefully out of the man's hands. The man fell forward as the spear was jerked out of his hands and Blood used this opportunity to hit him on the back of the head, just below his helmet, with his elbow. The guard didn't stand a chance and immediately fell to the floor.

The other two guards charged Flint in an attempt to drive him off the platform. One had a spear just as the other guard Blood was dealing with while the other held a sword and shield.

Flint just stayed where he was put, as the two remaining guards chased after him. To show their loyalty, they even went as far to shout their warrior cries. He didn't use his guns, not even his devil fruit, or lift a finger. Flint simply leapt on the old shoddy platform he was on, and stomped forcefully on his way down.

Doing so caused a board to spring upwards, slapping the guard with a spear right between the legs. As the man dropped and the other guard stared confusingly at his comrade, Flint began to rush the Judge. Still quite a distance away from him, he could not attack just yet, and just sped quickly towards him. "I already told you, we're here to fight you!"

Seeing Flint charging him, the Judge waited until Flint was just close enough before shooting a jet of fire directly at Flint's chest. Although the flame appeared to be impressive and could certainly slow anyone down, it wasn't strong enough to be lethal in anyway. The Judge was completely calm and collective and as soon as he had attacked Flint, he sent another small flame towards the burning wood next to the gypsies. The flame gradually began to burn, consuming whatever wood was in its path.

The crowd was frantically beginning to step back away from the flames that would no doubt eventually engulf the platform if no one actually took a moment to stop it. However, despite his warning, Trouillefou was moving closer towards the platform but was moving towards the back of it where his comrades were.

Since Blood was closer to the soldiers by this point, all who were still knocked out, he sighed in aggravation. So the kid knocks out most of them and he has to clean up the mess. As quickly as he could, Blood grabbed the soldiers and dropped them off the platform. He didn't both showing any other sort of kindness.

As the Judge launched a wave of fire towards Flint, it was much larger then the last time. Shocked and caught off guard, Flint continued running towards him, but slowly halted, before being hit by it. Quickly he was uplifted off of his feet, and with a grunt, he tumbled backwards through the decrepit platform.

Once his slid to a halt, black smoke began to swirl from his chest, before he held it irritably. With a groan, he looked up to see that the post was rekindled again, and that this Judge's fire was more powerful then he had thought.

Slowly he rose, before dusting off his shirt, and still in pain. "Now that is pretty cool..." He said, slightly out of breath from the impact. "What!?" He exclaimed noticing the burning post. "They're on fire again! You cheating jerk!"

Angrily he then chased after the Judge again, this time closer then before. Once he reached him, he leapt into the air, before thrusting a downward fist where his enemy was standing.

Seeing Flint coming down upon him, the Judge maneuvered out of the way before Flint could hit him. As Flint smashed into the platform with his fist, the Judge used this opportunity to send another jet of fire towards Flint. Just as the Judge was about to unleash another merciless attack, Blood punched him in the face. The Judge stammered back, not expecting another one to join the fight.

By this point, the fire around the crew had been increasing, smoke beginning to enter their lungs and making it difficult to breath. From behind, Trouillefou took out a knife and began to cut the ropes. However, the smoke was slowing him down, making it difficult to see as he coughed his way through his predicament.

As the Judge rubbed his cheek where Blood had punched him, he noticed Trouillefou and his attempt to rescue the gypsies. The Judge looked towards Blood, a grin spreading across his face. Without hesitation, he aimed a fireball towards the men. However, he didn't kill them or aim at anything lethal: he merely made the fire grow even stronger than before to the point where Blood had no choice but to rush towards them leaving the Judge with Flint once again.

Once Flint slammed into the ground, he noticed he had missed the Judge entirely, and growled at his failure. With his entire arm and fist lodged underneath the shoddy platform, he tugged and pulled, but could not free himself. Noticing a flame heading his way, he scurried along as best as he could, with his arm still being trapped.

The flame missed this time, blasting into a nearby stage curtain and engulfing it in flames, which then began to burn anything else around. Once he ripped his arm out, cracking and breaking a large portion of the platform's floor, he stared determinedly at the Judge. "Hawkins, go help them, I got this!" He exclaimed, before looking back at him.

"I don't know what your problem is with these people," He said, referring to the gypsies. "Or the townsfolks here, but I don't care. I have enough reasons to take you down now." Flint said, finishing his statement.

"I'm way ahead of you kid," Blood said as he was already running towards the men who were trapped. He then stopped as the smoke was starting to enter his lungs. Blood took the bandana on his head and tied it around his nose and mouth before continuing any further.

"You can try but your failure is inevitable," the Judge said, smirking now as he conjured up a wave of fire with both his hands and sent it flying towards Flint.

Quickly rolling to his side, the wave of fire blasted into the platform's base, obliterating more of the floor. This decrepit stage had seen better days, and it seemed to be on its last leg. As he was in mid-roll, Flint whipped his tubular contraption pistol out, and as he stopped rolling, he fired it.

It shot straight at the Judge, Flint wasn't sure if it would hit him or not, but that was not his main objective. He simply needed to buy some time to recover from his roll and to keep the Judge at bay as he charged him. Once he reached him, he threw to punches, aimed high, using both arms, and one right after the other.

After his fast fists were finished, he immediately ducked, before then performing a complete leg sweep, twisting fully around.

The bullet Flint fired completely missed the Judge. However, the Judge did turn to look and see where the stray bullet went. When he turned to face Flint again, Flint was already charging. The Judge pulled up both his arms in order to block the incoming punches. Yet, his skin was hot, hot to the point where it would hurt if one were to come into contact with it.

But the Judge could not avoid the sweeping kick. As he started to fall to the floor, the Judge aimed another jet of fire towards Flint to keep him back followed by a fireball. He scrambled to his feet and as he did so, he sent another fireball in Flint's direction.

Elsewhere, Blood was coming around to where the Captain was as the Captain cut the last of the ropes. Quickly, Blood grabbed whatever men he could carry (which was more difficult than usual due to the smoke) and carried them away. Trouillefou dragged the remaining man as the platform was beginning to shake uneasily.

Once Flint recovered from his spinning leg swipe, the Judge was now falling to the floor. However he did not have time to take in the glory, as several consecutive fire blasts and waves were heading straight his way.

Springing upwards, so that he was no longer kneeling in his kicking sweep, Flint then rolled to the side. Immediately after the hissing stream of fire passed by, hairs length away from scorching him. While in mid-roll the second and third attack came rushing in, to which he somersaulted backwards, followed by pushing him arms upwards to leap to a twirl in the air, before he hopped backwards once more, after he reached the platform's base.

Although he had missed every attack entirely, the stationery stage could not say the same. It had been battered and burned with each flame attack, fire burning on it also. Staring determinedly at The Judge, Flint then broke his concentration, to a sizzling sound. Hopping lowly a few times, he fanned and blew onto his sore arms, "Ow! Ow! Ow!" He exclaimed, before sharply glaring at his enemy. "Why are you so darn hot!?" He growled juvenilely.

As the Judge got to his feet, he nearly lost his balance both due to his pain from the fall and the fact that the platform was not the sturdiest it could be.

"It's simple really, I came across a devil fruit and I ate it," the Judge said, causing a flame to form in the palm of his hand as he spoke. He then sent that small flame hurtling towards Flint.

Once The Judge was finished, Flint stepped forward, to his fire ball. As it homed in towards him, he quickly and forcefully brought his arm up, before slapping it to the side, which snuffed out the flame. It still hissed, shooting sparks, before engulfing part of his arm, but he did not flinch.

"Your powers don't scare me." Flint replied, calmly standing, as the grayish smoke settled on his arm. Nearby, a lot of the citizens stared at the fight terrifyingly. Charging again towards The Judge, he then leapt into the air, with his one foot pushed in.

It seemed to be just like any of the other half-brained full frontal charges he was throwing, with little result. However once he began to descend, as gravity does with anything, he was off target. Or so it seemed, as he was not in place for a direct attack for The Judge. Slightly off to the side, he then plunged his foot forcefully onto the stage's floor, without the use of his devil fruit powers.

Doing so caused a good portion of the stage, where he and The Judge were, to give way. Splinters and dry rot wood sprayed everywhere, cracks spiraling through every panel, before the floor they were on began to creak.

Although a lot of it was caving in, the supports underneath it all were more sturdy. Attempting with difficulty to balance himself, Flint managed enough, before slamming a quick fist in The Judge's gut.

The Judge sneered as he saw Flint coming down, seeing that he managed to become off target. With ease, the Judge moved out of the way of Flint's attack.

However, the Judge was not expecting what happened next. As the platform gave way, he struggled to keep his balance. As debris from where Flint had made impact flew in his direction, the Judge used his hands to cover himself. He was so distracted by the platform and the debris that he momentarily forgot about Flint. Or rather, he assumed Flint was having the same difficulty.

But by the time the Judge looked up to face Flint once again, he felt a sharp pain in his gut. Gasping, the Judge fell back, landing on the floor and with his gut aching.

His eyes wild, the Judge stared at Flint in complete and utter disgust. His hair now out of place, he frantically shot two fireballs towards Flint. However, these fireballs were erratic and it was clear his actions were made out of sheer anger rather than careful calculation.

With the series of attacks a success, Flint grinned happily as he watched The Judge writhe in pain. However he wasn't out of the count by far, and with two erratic fire balls heading his way, he needed to be out of the way and quick.

That wasn't too much of a problem for him however, and not because of his own actions. Suddenly the support he was kneeling on snapped in two, before Flint dropped swiftly to the bottom. With a shout of unexpectancy, he fully went underneath the stage's floor, just as the two fire balls singed the top of his hat slightly.

Not wasting a moment, he rubbed his aching rear-end, before quickly springing to his feet. Underneath of the stage was a concrete base, with dim light pouring through the cracks and rotten wood. Without hesitation, after he spotted a support where The Judge was standing, he rushed towards it, and then forcefully kicked it in.

Hoping that would buy him some time, and allow The Judge to direct his attention elsewhere, Flint then readied himself in case he fell, in order to continue the fight.