One Piece; The Great Pirate Era

Now that there was an opening, Hawkins wasted no time. He rushed forward and grabbed the harness that was on the ground. Hawkins pulled down, letting the crane hit the Marine in the head before jabbing him in the gut.

With the bright light and dots blinding the Marine, he was not expecting the crane to swing into the back of his head, as Hawkins tugged at the harness. Just that was enough to take him off his guard. Yet the punch in the stomach brought him onto his knees.

"Damn you bastards! You fight dirty, don't you have any shame!?"

Elsewhere, as Flint had trashed the entire shed, he finally found several stashes of Whiskey's alcohol. Unsure what Anais exactly needed or wanted, he stowed each and everyone into a bag. It almost seemed he had packed an entire house, as he hunched and walked towards the exit.

Before he could reach the door to the docks, a cork dropped from above, rolling to a stop between his feet. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to meet Marine Captain Whiskey, who was standing above a ledge on the second floor.

"Where do you think you're going with all of that?" They asked, before chugging an entire bottle of whiskey, most of it spilling down his neck and chin. "I get real angry when people steal my stuff." He replied, his eyes piercing deathly.

Suddenly an explosion happened elsewhere, causing the entire shed where Hawkins, Anais, and the Marine were to shake uncontrollably with powerful tremors. If they were to inspect the source of the ruckus, through one of the dirtied windows, they would spot a section in the base which was smoking.

Hawkins remained in a defensive position.

"Pirate," was all he said.

Before he or the Marine could continue the fight, Hawkins suddenly felt the ground tremor. His eyes darted towards the dusty window and saw smoke rising from an area of the base.

"What the heck?"

"Well if that's how you're going to play!"

Unsure what to make of the tremors, the noisy explosion, or the smoke, the Marine quickly stood up and bashed directly into Hawkins. In doing so he pushed him into several tables, full of different tools, lumber, and debris, and into different crates and boxes. He would then continue this, unless Hawkins could think of something quickly enough.

Elsewhere, having dodged a very destructive blast, Flint hurriedly ran away from the smoking heap of what was once the front door and building. There was no exit there now, only a blockaded mix of debris, large and small.

Clattering with him, were several bottles of alcohol, which he had great difficulty in maneuvering and making sure to not damage in the slightest. "Give me back my whiskey, damn pirate!" Captain Whiskey exclaimed, lunging and furiously pounding his fist into the concrete where Flint once was.

With his brute force, a huge crater formed, causing another massive explosion, this time sending Flint and the bag of whiskey to tumble through the wreckage. Slowly rising, he moaned and attempted to regain his bearings, as Marine Captain Whiskey slowly plucked his fist out of the hole.

As Hawkins was caught off guard and pushed into the table filled with tools, he grabbed a wrench and threw it at the Marine's foot.

As Flint and the Marine Captain stood still and stared at each other defiantly, something seemed off. There seemed to be a faint trickling sound, which Flint quickly took note of. Inspecting his bag of alcohol, he soon realized to his shock and annoyance, that some of the bottles had either shattered or leaked, as whiskey was dribbling out from the bottom.

"Augh! No, stop leaking! I need you!" Flint exclaimed, dunking his head underneath the bag to catch the liquid. However, the foul taste was too much, and he quickly spat it out. "Ugh, how does Hawkins stomach this!?"

"You've been a thorn far too long pirate. I don't know who you are, but this is the end of the line." The Marine Captain remarked, to which Flint slowly and gently dropped his bag of whiskey onto the ground. "Anais told me not to fight you, but you're making this too difficult. So there's only one way out of this."

Elsewhere as the charging rampage ensued, Hawkins retaliated by throwing a tool into the Marine. Crushing his foot painfully with a large wrench, he had no other option but to release his grip. Mending to his throbbing foot, he yelped, whimpered, and hopped as he held onto it.

As the Marine tried to soothe his foot, Hawkins gave him an uppercut followed by another kick in the gut.

As the standoff waged on, Whiskey's shed, storage, and room was being torn apart. The concrete flooring was battered in various places, debris and dust sprinkled everywhere, as walls, the ceiling, and furniture were totaled.

Neither side seemed to be winning overly, as both were still standing. However, Marine Captain Whiskey appeared to have the advantage, as Flint seemed to becoming weary, especially when trying to protect a vulnerable bag of whiskey.

What was left of the bag sagged onto the floor, which rested in a puddle of its own shattered glass and alcohol. If it took any more hits, even indirect in this shaky, explosive, and tremor ridden shed, all chances of coming out with an ounce of liquor would be impossible.

Breathing heavily, he contemplated his next course of actions. Spotting a broken bottle of alcohol, which still retained some of the glassless liquid, Flint stared at it fixedly. Suddenly he sped furiously towards Whiskey, he stood in his path, and readied himself in a counter position.

Just as Flint leapt forward and into Whiskey's path, he was caught by both the Marine Captain's hands. Holding him tightly in grip, Whiskey stared annoyingly and defiantly at this pirate. "Now I will judge you."

Those were the last words uttered, before Flint spat out the whiskey from the broken bottle, which he had stored in his mouth. His puffed cheeks began to decrease in size, as the alcohol shot out like a running hose, splattering directly into the Marine Captain's face.

"We won't be killed in this cell, we're going to escape!" Flint exclaimed, before punching the Marine Captain squarely in the jaw.

Elsewhere as the tremors and explosions from beyond the other shed continued, the muscular Marine laughed arrogantly. Even when he was pushed and beaten around so much, and on the ground once more, this didn't dampen his spirits.

"It sounds like Captain Whiskey is finishing off your little friend." They remarked. "Whatever plan you had in store is finished." Slowly he stood, wiping the blood off of his lip.

"But just in case, I'll smash this ship." They replied, lifting the fisherman boat over his head, before hurling it towards one of the steel walls.

Hawkin's eyes widened as he saw him grab the ship. He immediately ran to where the ship was being thrown.

The boat hurtled towards him. He grabbed the boat and allowed himself to be pinned between the steel wall and the boat. Frantically, he tried to hold onto the boat and place it back down before the Marine could come at him and further do harm to the boat.

"Sorry, but I can't let you smash this," Hawkins said as the boat was now safely on the ground.

As Anais noticed the boat flying, her heart began to sink. However, once Hawkins got between the wall and boat, grabbing and slowly sliding to a halt, she sighed in relief. It was a little too close for comfort, but the Marine didn't seem phased by this.

In fact, they laughed merrily. The boat was out of harms reach, so why were they so pleased? Anais thought confusedly, until it donned on her. "Oh no!" She exclaimed worryingly, "This entire place is his playground!"

"That's right." The Marine grinned smugly, cracking both of their knuckles. "The boat, the crane, this cannon? You can't possibly protect them all, can you?" He asked rhetorically, before furiously growling, and shoving their fist into the cranes pole. It wasn't completely totaled, but the metal began to bend and warp on itself.

As soon as Hawkins saw what the Marine was doing and the edge he possessed, he charged him while he was attacking the crane and rammed right into him. He didn't care if he had to knock him to the ground to stop him.

"That's big talk for someone with nowhere to go!" Marine Captain Whiskey stated irritably, as he mended to his aching jaw. "And if it's that bag that is so important, I'll shatter all your hopes and dreams of getting off this rock," He added, leaping into the air, and heading towards the duffel bag of soggy liquor, shattered glass, and what intact bottles remained. "Then I'll judge you!"

The only sound to escape Flint's mouth, as he stared worryingly at their chances of escape slipping away, was the word no. Frantically he hurried towards the same destination, in hopes of beating Whiskey to the alcohol.

With no other option found or thought in such a short amount of time, Flint slipped in between the incoming Marine Captain and the bag. Whiskey's leg was ready to smash into it all, as it bent upwards. Fixing his position, Flint clasped the Marine Captain's foot into both his hands.

Tremendous strain was placed onto him, but he was able to keep the leg from striking the bag, and the Marine Captain suspended in air. Not for long however, as Whiskey forced his leg and strength to crush Flint into the ground.

With such power, the ground formed small cracks and holes below the two, just as several of the bottles in the bag shattered, sending shards and liquid splashing outwards. Flint groaned loudly and painfully from the thousands of glass piercing his back, as the Marine Captain grinned.

"Hmph, looks like you managed to save a few bottles." Whiskey uttered disappointingly, "But to think a runt like you caused this much trouble. You're pathetic." He remarked, his foot still crushing Flint's chest into the shattered waste of alcohol and glass.

Grabbing a full bottle of whiskey, Flint slapped it across the Marine Captain's leg. All the alcohol spilled out as the bottle shattered for the most part. With a jagged end still in hand, Flint growled. "Let's see how you like having glass in you!" He growled furiously, jabbing it into his rear-end.

Shouting and leaping off of Flint, Marine Captain Whiskey held onto his buttocks, before he began to soothe and pick out the glass shards. Thus allowing Flint the time to recover and regain his footing.

Before the Marine's fist could batter the crane once more and for the second time, Hawkins lunged into him, which caused the two to tumble through the dirtied floor. They continued to forcefully roll, until he was the one pinned to the bottom, before growling and frowning angrily.

"You're fighting a losing battle pirate!" He growled, before clenching his fist, and punching upwards and to the side, allowing him to force Hawkins and him to switch positions. Once he rolled on top of him, he threw another fist, this time downwards.

Hawkins moved his head as the Marine's fist slammed down into the floor. He then kneed the Marine in the gut as he tried to push him off.

Now on his feet once more, Flint observed what was left of the stash. There was maybe two or three bottles left, to that of what Anais had previously given him. That would equal three and a half bottles. If he lost anymore, this would be all over.

"Damn it..." He growled frustratingly, "I don't have time for this."

"I've been too lenient in this fight." Whiskey remarked, before unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt, and digging his hand inside. Slowly he pulled out a golden flask, which had been previously battered slightly by Hawkins.

Immediately he recognized it. It was the same alcohol that smelled foul, yet it seemed to enhance his strength. If he drank that now, he would have to kiss all three of these bottles goodbye. "It's time I've finished this." Whiskey remarked, unscrewing the top, and ready to chug whatever was left in the flask.

Or would this really be their last chance? "Wait a minute." Flint uttered, as he began to hatch an idea. "Ugh...it's still a little too early, but it's my only chance."

Elsewhere, as his fist slammed into the ground, it plunged deeply. Unable to remove it in time, Hawkins gained the upper-hand and attacked the Marine in the gut again. However, this line of attack and strategy grew predictable.

Stiffening his chest, the impact wasn't that painful. He didn't cave in on himself and if he flinched, it wasn't too noticeable. Grinning mischievously and laughing, the muscular Marine pulled his hand out of the concrete. Grabbing Hawkins by the collar of his shirt, he then lifted his entire body, and slung him heading towards a series of tools and crates. "You pirates are dense! Learn some new tricks you old dog!"

As the Marine tried to throw Hawkins towards the crates, Hawkins held onto the Marine's arms. He then planted his feet on the ground and tossed the Marine over.

Just as the muscular Marine threw Hawkins into a pile of crates and other wreckage, he was quickly yanked and joined the ride. With the combined weight of both men, they tumbled into each other, which would cause great difficulty in getting out of.

In the end, as a smoky mess of debris, dust, and wrecked crates highlighted their pathway, the Marine slumped into the shattered remains of a wooden box. This time he seemed out cold for sure.

Just as Whiskey was about to place the flask into his mouth, Flint knelt and readied himself. Staring determinedly, he grunted. "Propel-pel Launcher!" He exclaimed as he would always, when using his devil fruit power.

This time was different, the power behind the push was weak, it didn't even shatter or damage the surrounding area as much as it should had. The speed was lacking as well, yet he was still flying fast enough to reach the Marine Captain.

Whiskey worryingly stared at the incoming target, yet it passed by him just as quickly. He completely missed his target and one chance, to his pleasure. He slowly slid to a halt, skidding and turning to lock a gaze onto the Marine Captain. He dropped to his knees soon after, gasping tiringly, and in sheer pain.

After he finished chugging the entire flask, he gasped refreshingly, and laughed at Flint's failure. "Talk about pathetic, what was that? You lost your ability to swim for that!?"

Suddenly he stretched his muscles, staring coldly at Flint. "I'll show you true devil fruit powers." However his size nor muscles increased, as he waited a passing moment for something to happen. "What's going on!?"

"Take a look at your flask." Flint added through his panting, as he pointed at Whiskey's hand. Slowly staring at the flask still in his hand, shock overrode him, as he noticed it was a regular whiskey bottle in his hand. "Hey, over here!" Flint added mockingly, as he waved the Marine Captain's golden whiskey flask in hand.

"What!? But how!?" He exclaimed shockingly, to which Flint raced towards the destroyed front entrance. "I'll just be going now, as you deal with that hangover!"

In the wreckage, Hawkins slowly tried to get up as he pushed the debris out of the way.

"Well, that was fun."

As Flint rushed out of the rickety shed, Marine Captain Whiskey remained still. With his head facing down, he trembled in anger, as the entire shed began to shake and fall apart.

Elsewhere, as the fight seemed to finally be finished, Anais rushed towards the downed Marine. "Hurry up, we don't have much time!" She exclaimed, carrying a tangled and flailing mess of rope. "Secure the boat to the harness, I'll tie up him!"

As Hawkins was working on the boat, she tied the Marine's hands, feet, and body with enough rope and knots to keep him down. Or hopefully she did, as she knew a few things about tying. "When you're down with the boat, rig the cannon to its back!" She added, as she continued tying the man.

Hawkins wasted no time. He rushed to grab the harness and began securing the boat with it. He then grabbed the cannon and started fastening it to the back of the boat.

Once the unconscious Marine was fully tied, Anais tugged the end of the rope once more for reassurance, before hurrying over towards where Hawkins was. Strapping the boat to the harness and the cannon to boat rigging was self-explanatory, as everything was mostly laid out.

Now came for the more tricky parts however, as she began to crank the crane again. With the boat and cannon now on the harness and crane, it was more heavy and difficult to turn. She tried her best, but she would need the extra muscles for it to rise where they needed it.

She didn't ask for the help, she just assumed that Hawkins would offer it when he realized how difficult it seemed, and how she was straining.

Slowly the boat and cannon contraption began to rise, higher and higher, until it reached the top of the roof. "Good," She said wiping her sweaty forehead. "Now all we need is the whiskey."

With the boat now on the roof, Hawkins wiped his brow.

"Let's just hope the kid gets here already before we get another one of them on our tail," he said, motioning to the Marine down below.

"Those explosions earlier, what if they got him?" Anais asked uneasily. Not necessarily for his safety, but because the plan would be a complete failure without the other ingredients. "This is your fault. If you weren't so worried about being hammered, this plan would had been so much easier."

"Relax, he'll be fine," Hawkins remarked. "And if it hadn't been for that liquor, I might not have been able to win that fight just now. So cool it."

"You can only fight when drunk? Or partially?" Anais asked curiously. She then panicked again. "Oh crap! I forgot to tell him how to get here!" She exclaimed, slapping her cheek.

After a moment, the shed's door burst open, echoing loudly, which caused her to jolt and stare at the wide open entrance. Flint hurriedly rushed towards where the two were, as he staggered forward seemingly tired and out of breath.

It appeared that he had been in a rough fight, as he was cut, especially on his backside where all the glass had sliced him. He was carrying three and a half bottles of whiskey, along with Marine Captain Whiskey's golden flask, with both of his arms awkwardly.

"I'm here! I'm here!" Flint exclaimed, seeming ready to trip over himself with all the luggage he was carrying, as well as his weariness.

"How did you know how to find us!?" Anais exclaimed curiously, but also shocked. "Oh," Flint remarked, standing upright with his breath now caught. "There were a bunch of Marines outside, I figured I'd try this place." He stated, gesturing his hand to the entrance, just as a spotlight shone brightly onto and into the shed, via the opened doors.

Before Hawkins had a chance to explain, the doors burst open.

"There he is," Hawkins said. However, after witnessing Flint's state, he went to help him at least carry the bottles. "Tough fight huh?"

Flint didn't have much chance to explain how he had come to find this place before the spotlights came on. He couldn't have given them a better warning?