One Piece: Lost in the Tutorial #79

Locked in his cell, cuffed with seastone shackles, Hawkins watched as the castle's guards escorted Drake through the hallway, taking him deeper into the dungeon. The dim light cast long shadows, and the cold, damp air seemed to cling to everything. Hawkins's sharp eyes recognized the hulking form of X Drake immediately.

"I know you. X Drake..." Hawkins called out, his voice echoing slightly in the narrow corridor. "What did you do to get yourself here?"

Drake slowed his steps, glancing over at Hawkins. "Went after Blake Thorne's crew and lost," he replied gruffly. "And you?"

"I went after Blake himself," Hawkins responded a hint of irony in his voice.

Their conversation was cut short as the guards began shoving Drake forward. Drake gave Hawkins one last look before being led away, his footsteps fading down the stone corridor.

Drake was soon settled in a dungeon cell far from Hawkins. The surrounding cells were empty, their iron bars glistening with moisture. The seastone shackles remained firmly attached to his wrists, draining his strength and nullifying his devil fruit powers.

X Drake sat in his cell, glaring up at Blake Thorne with a mix of defiance and frustration. Blake stood just outside the bars, his demeanor calm and authoritative, with Law standing beside him, arms crossed. Sif, Blake's loyal wolf, padded quietly at his side, her eyes never leaving Drake.

"X Drake," Blake said, his voice calm and authoritative. "Welcome to my castle. I hope the accommodations are to your liking."

Drake scoffed, shifting slightly in his restraints. "Cut the crap, Thorne. We both know you didn't come all the way down here just to gloat."

Law, his patience wearing thin, added, "I'd also prefer if we skipped the theatrics and got straight to the point."

Blake shot Law a sullen look. "Whose side are you on, Law?"

Drake, growing impatient, leaned forward. "I'll save us all the trouble and get to the point since you refuse to. Seeing as my heart is in your hands, I don't see much of a choice for me to make others work for you, so I'll do just that..." he trailed at the end of his sentence. "That is what you're here to do, right?"

Law remained silent, his eyes narrowing slightly, while Blake chuckled. "Well, that was a bit too easy. And while I appreciate the offer, I'm afraid that I'll have to turn it down for not-so-obvious reasons.."

Drake's eyes flickered with confusion and suspicion. "What are you talking about?"

Blake leaned against the cold, iron bars, his eyes gleaming with a knowing look. "I'm talking about the truth-- the truth about you and your defection from the Marines..."

Drake said nothing, but Law was far too intrigued not to take the bait. Raising an eyebrow, he inquired. "And what truth might that be?"

Blake's smile widened in satisfaction. "Drake here never truly severed his ties with the Marines. His so-called 'defection' was part of a bigger plan. Who knows? Maybe the idea was for him to rise through the ranks of the pirate world, infiltrate a Yonko's crew, and gather intelligence."

Drake's face turned even paler as Blake continued. "That's what I would have had him do, and yet here he is, sitting in a cell in my castle for going after my crew."

Law's eyes widened slightly. "That makes little sense..."

Drake's jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his eyes locked on Blake. Blake stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone. "You see, Drake, trust is a fragile thing. And while I might have been inclined to use your skills, your true allegiance makes that impossible."

Drake finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you want from me, Thorne?"

Blake's eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned against the cold iron bars. "I want to understand why you went after my crew."

He reached into his coat and pulled out a transponder snail, placing it on the ground between them. Drake looked at the snail and then back at Blake, confusion etched on his face. "What do you expect me to do with that?"

Blake's gaze remained steady. "I want you to connect me to your handler, commanding officer, or whatever official title the person giving you orders goes by."

Drake's expression hardened. "This is ridiculous. I don't work for the Marines anymore."

Blake sighed, a weary look crossing his face. "You know, I used to be a cabin boy for a pirate crew called The Cutthroat Pirates before I struck out on my own."

Both Law and Drake exchanged puzzled glances, unsure where Blake was going with this story. Blake continued, unbothered by their reactions.

"The Cutthroat Pirates had a peculiar tradition they performed after every battle with the Marines. After winning, they'd strip the dead Marines naked and tie them upside down on the masts of their ships before sending those ships to roam the sea as a warning."

Drake's eyes widened in shock, and even Law's stoic expression faltered slightly. Blake's tone was calm, almost nostalgic, as he recounted the gruesome tradition.

Blake looked Drake in the eye. "Now, I'm not saying I'm about to adopt that tradition, but I am saying that I understand the importance of sending a message, and you'll help me do that. One way or another."

Drake's jaw tightened. "I told you, I'm not working for the Marines anymore."

Blake leaned in closer, his eyes cold and piercing. "I don't care how much you deny it. I know for a fact that you're still working for the Marines. You're part of some special unit trained to do this kind of dirty work."

Drake's face began to lose color, his eyes darting nervously. "That's not true," he stammered, but the conviction in his voice was gone.

Blake continued, his tone unwavering. "I also know that the members of these units sign their own resignation letters before joining, so the Marines can deny any connection to them if their actions are exposed."

Drake opened his mouth to talk, but no words came out. He looked like a man grasping at the last threads of a fraying rope, his facade of defiance crumbling under the weight of Blake's knowledge.

Blake stepped back, giving Drake a moment to process his situation. "You went after my crew, pal. No other truth matters beyond that. You targeted my people, and now you're going to help me send a message."

Drake's clenched his teeth, nervousness creeping into his tone. "What do you mean?"

Blake's expression hardened. "You're going to make that call, and you're going to make it now. Otherwise, I'll make an example out of you as to why people shouldn't mess with my crew."

Drake's shoulders slumped as the weight of his predicament settled on him. He looked at the transponder snail on the ground, then back at Blake. "And if I do make the call?"

Blake's expression transformed into one of cold indifference. "Then you'll live. and maybe, just maybe, I'll come to an understanding with your boss. But if you don't, I'll make sure suffer so much that you won't even recognize yourself when I'm done..."

"Then, and only then, will I send you back to the Marines, so they could have executed or thrown into Imple down to live the rest of your life rotting in disgrace... whatever saves them more face..."

Drake hesitated, his mind racing. He knew Blake wasn't bluffing. Despite his short career as a pirate, rumors of his ruthlessness were already widespread all over North Blue. Drake had seen and heard enough to know that he wasn't a man to be trifled with. Slowly, reluctantly, he reached for the transponder snail.

Dialing a number, and then giving a password to the operator, Drake's voice was barely steady as he spoke once the line connected to his handler. "This is Rear Admiral Drake. I have been compromised."