One Piece: Lost in the Tutorial #62

Blake, Sif, and Bepo wandered through the bustling marketplace of Lvneel Island, the vibrant atmosphere filled with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and customers haggling over prices. The market was a mixture of colors, with stalls offering everything from fresh produce and exotic spices to intricate textiles and hand-carved trinkets.

Blake's eyes scanned the various stalls, his curiosity piqued by the diverse array of goods. Sif padded along beside him, her keen nose twitching at the myriad of scents, while Bepo followed closely, his eyes wide with wonder.

As they approached a particular stall, Blake's gaze landed on a small, intricately patterned shell that immediately caught his attention. It bore a striking resemblance to a dial from a Sky Island. Intrigued, Blake picked it up, turning it over in his hands to inspect it more closely.

"How much for this?" Blake asked the merchant, a wiry man with a weathered face and a shrewd expression.

The merchant's eyes gleamed as he saw Blake's interest. "Ah, a fine choice! That shell is quite rare. For you, good sir, only fifty thousand berries."

Blake scoffed, shaking his head. "Fifty thousand? Come on, you and I both know it's not worth that much. I'll give you twenty thousand."

The merchant frowned, clearly not pleased with Blake's counteroffer. "Forty-five thousand, and that's cutting my own throat."

Before Blake could respond, a man in a dark cloak sidled up to him, his face partially obscured by a hood. He leaned in close, speaking in a hushed tone. "You're Blake Thorne, right? Captain of the strange ship on the docks?"

Blake raised an eyebrow, his free hand moving to Tidebreaker's grip. "Who's asking?"

The man glanced around furtively before lowering his voice even more. "I'm with the Revolutionary Army. I have a message for you..."

Blake couldn't believe his luck. With the mysterious man standing beside him, he turned back to the merchant. "Thirty-five thousand. Take it or leave it," he said, making his final offer.

The merchant sighed heavily, clearly reluctant but sensing that further haggling would be futile. "Alright, thirty-five thousand it is," he agreed, albeit grudgingly.

Blake handed over the money and pocketed the shell before turning to the cloaked man. "Let's continue this conversation somewhere private."

The man nodded, and the three of them—Blake, Bepo, and the cloaked stranger—made their way through the crowded streets until they found a busy bar. The noise inside was deafening, with the voices of customers intertwining in a cacophony that made eavesdropping nearly impossible. 

Sif waited outside, lying down near the entrance, her watchful eyes scanning the surroundings.

Inside, Blake led the way to a corner table. Once they were seated, the man lowered his hood, revealing a serious expression. "I've been sent by one of the Revolutionary Army's commanders."

Blake raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh? What does such an important person want with little old me?"

Bepo let out a nervous chuckle, glancing between Blake and the man. The stranger, however, didn't seem amused. He leaned forward, his tone grave. "The commander wants to make your acquaintance and discuss something of great importance."

Blake leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Sorry, but I'm not interested. I've got enough trouble on my plate without getting involved in more troublesome matters."

The man's expression hardened. "You should reconsider. The Revolutionary Army—"

Blake cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Like I said, I'm not interested. I've got my own priorities, and I don't intend to be swept away by anyone else's agenda."

The man's eyes narrowed, clearly displeased, but he nodded curtly. "Very well. But know that the offer stands should you change your mind."

Blake nodded, signaling the end of the conversation. "Understood. Now, if you'll excuse yourself... I think I like the atmosphere of this little bar..."

The man rose from the table and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Blake and Bepo alone. Bepo let out a sigh of relief. "That took me by surprise... is there any particular reason you refused, captain?"

Blake chuckled, patting Bepo on the shoulder. "It's because I don't want any unnecessary problems... and the Revolutionary Army is nothing but trouble... they're also quite the unreliable bunch, especially their leader..." He added with a scoff. 

Bepoe's eyes widened in surprise. "Their leader...?" 

Blake shrugged his shoulders. "Some guy who only knows how to look south or west or whatever... it's not something you should worry about. Let's get a few drinks and something for Sif to eat then get out of here." 

Bepo's confusion only grew at the cryptic reply, but he wasn't one to overthink matters. Shrugging his shoulders, he began looking at the nearby tables, trying to see what the bar had to offer. 

...

The cloaked man and Jiron made their way through the winding streets of Lvneel, navigating the dark alleys and hidden pathways until they reached a secluded warehouse on the outskirts of town. Inside, they descended a set of stairs into a dimly lit underground chamber where Karasu, the Northern Commander of the Revolutionary Army, awaited them.

Karasu's presence was as imposing as ever, his dark, avian-themed attire blending seamlessly with the shadows. He looked up as the two approached, his eyes hidden behind a mask. "Report," he said, his voice a raspy whisper.

Jiron let out a sigh and palmed his face. "Please turn on your speaker before talking, boss. You know I can't make anything out of mumbling otherwise..." 

Karasu looked as irritated as always at the mention of his low voice, but he obliged before speaking again nonetheless. "Report."

Jiron stepped forward, a broad grin forming on his face. "Mich better! We approached Blake Thorne as instructed, but he outright refused to meet with you."

Karasu's eyes narrowed in surprise. "Refused? Did he give a reason?"

The cloaked man shook his head. "No, sir. He simply stated that he has enough trouble to worry about and doesn't want to get involved in more troublesome matters... but these seemed to be something else, something he didn't share..."

Karasu sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "This was a good chance to make a connection with a promising individual. Especially considering what we've learned about his past while staying in Lvneel."

Jiron nodded in agreement. "Yes, sir. The information we uncovered about his history here could have helped us forge a strong relationship with him."

Karasu was silent for a moment, contemplating their next move. "Do you think I should visit Blake Thorne myself and reveal that we know some information that might be of interest to him?" Jiron asked tentatively.

Karasu shook his head slowly. "There's no need for that. He might have some prejudice against us, and pressing him now could push him further away. It's best not to force the issue."

Jiron nodded, understanding the caution. "So, what should our next step be, Commander?"

Karasu looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. "Someone else might be better suited for the job once Blake Thorne crosses into the Grand Line..."

Jiron tilted his head in confusion. "Someone else? Are talking about Mr. Sabo?" 

Karasu nodded his head in affirmation. "That's right. For now, we can support him indirectly. Help him gather supplies and information in secret. Make sure his journey is as smooth as possible without him knowing we're involved."

Jiron and the cloaked man nodded in unison. "Understood, Commander," they said, preparing to carry out their orders.

As they left the chamber, Karasu remained deep in thought. Blake Thorne was indeed a promising individual, and connecting with him could prove valuable for the Revolutionary Army. But for now, subtlety and patience were key.

...

The bar buzzed with lively conversation as Blake, Sif, and Bepo made their exit. The clinking of glasses and the hum of voices filled the air, but soon a new sound cut through the din—the rhythmic pounding of a hammer against wood.

Heads turned as a burly man nailed a poster to one of the bar’s wooden pillars. Curiosity piqued, patrons began to gather around, craning their necks to see the latest news. As the hammering ceased, gasps of astonishment rippled through the crowd.

"150 million Beri?" someone exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. "I've never heard of this Blake Thorne!"

"I haven't heard of him either! Must be his first bounty," another remarked, shaking his head in amazement. "A rookie pirate with a bounty that high? That's insane!"

"What could a rookie have done to earn such a big bounty?" a skeptical voice asked, prompting the man who had hammered the poster to step forward.

He cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "This pirate, Blake Thorne, attacked and occupied a Marine branch," he began, his voice carrying through the now-silent bar. "Then, he used it to ambush and defeat a Marine Vice Admiral from HQ along with his crew."

Shock and disbelief echoed in the bar, the news too incredible to process all at once. Murmurs and whispers filled the air as patrons tried to wrap their minds around the feat.

Meanwhile, one of the servers, the same one who had waited on Blake’s table, pushed through the crowd to get a closer look. His eyes widened as he recognized the face on the poster. It was the same man he had just served drinks to.