The harbor burned with lantern glow, their flickering light casting long shadows across the worn wooden docks. The air was thick with the scent of brine, rum, and bad decisions. Ships—some pristine, others barely seaworthy—bobbed lazily against their moorings. And in front of one such vessel, a battered thing that looked more driftwood than ship, stood four individuals.
Jack and Mk stood a few paces away, sizing them up. Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully, while Mk looked on with something between mild horror and deep regret. Gego, perched on Mk's shoulder, was entirely enthralled by the twins, his little hands clapping in amusement.
The first figure was an old man, blindfolded with a faded pirate bandana wrapped over his eyes. His skin was like cracked leather, worn by sun and salt. A heavy coat, once a deep navy but now reduced to a patchwork of stitches, hung from his thin frame. His boots were mismatched—one a proper sea boot, the other a tattered sandal. And yet, despite his hunched stance, there was a ghost of a grin on his lips, as if he saw more than he let on.
Beside him stood the twins—two men, identical in every way but for their missing arms. The left twin lacked a right arm, and the right twin lacked a left, forming a strange symmetry between them. They each wielded a pistol in their remaining hand, moving in tandem, shifting as though part of the same mind. Their expressions were sharp, almost predatory, but their eyes held a mischievous gleam.
The third man reeked of fish. Not just the faint, unfortunate smell of someone who had been near the sea for too long—no, this was something far worse, like he'd been marinating in a barrel of rotten bait for weeks. His beard was thick and unruly, bits of dried seaweed clinging to the strands. A sharp, rusted blade replaced his left hand, the metal dark with age. He stood stiff, eyes scanning Jack and Mk as if contemplating gutting them right there.
And the fourth man… well, he had the unmistakable look of someone who made his living selling questionable substances in the alleys of seedy ports. His coat was a little too long, pockets bulging with who-knew-what. His fingers twitched absently near the hilts of the twin blades strapped to his sides. His gaze was shifty, his lips curled into a near-permanent smirk.
Jack exhaled, arms crossed.
Mk slowly turned to him. "That's all you have to say?"
Jack shrugged. "I mean, they're interesting."
Mk pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's one word for it."
Meanwhile, Gego was having the time of his life, pointing at the twins and laughing hysterically. He'd lean toward one, then the other, then back, unable to contain his amusement.
One of the twins—Mk wasn't sure which—cocked his head. "What's the monkey laughing at?"
The other twin smirked. "I think he likes our setup. You got a problem with it, mate?"
Gego chittered in delight, practically rolling on Mk's shoulder. Mk sighed. "No, no problem. Just—Jack, are we really doing this?"
Jack grinned. "Oh, absolutely. We can't just leave without knowing what they can do."
The tests began.
The Blind Old Pirate: He claimed he could navigate by sound alone. "A man with sight is fooled by his eyes," he rasped. "I see the world clearer than any of ye." He proceeded to walk straight off the dock and into the water.
The Twins: Their whole gimmick was working together seamlessly in combat. "We think as one," one of them boasted. "Our enemies never see it coming." In the test, one twin went for his pistol—only to realize it was in the other's holster. They spent precious seconds fumbling, handing the gun back and forth before finally firing.
The Fish-Scented Man: "Call me Cutter," he grunted. He held up his rusted blade-arm. "I slice through the toughest hides." He demonstrated on a barrel, swinging hard. The blade stuck halfway through the wood. He tried to yank it free. Nothing. After a moment of struggling, he sighed. "Might need some oil."
The Shady Dealer: "I don't fight fair," he admitted, flipping a coin between his fingers. "And I don't lose." He challenged Jack to a duel—only to immediately throw a small vial of choking powder into the air. He turned to run but tripped over a crate and knocked himself out cold.
Mk stood there, arms crossed, expression blank. He turned slowly to Jack. "Well. That was… something."
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "Wasn't it?"
"…Are you actually going to take them?" Mk asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Jack smirked. "What? No way."
Jack gestured at the crew. "I just wanted to see what they could do. Thought they'd be fun to mess with." He grinned. "And they were."
A silence stretched between them. Then Mk sighed deeply, shaking his head.
Jack laughed. "Come on, lighten up. That was entertainment." He turned back to the group and saluted. "Alright, boys. That was enlightening, but we'll be taking our leave."
The twins exchanged a look, muttering something under their breath. Cutter finally wrenched his blade free, nearly stumbling backward. The old blind man, now dripping wet, grumbled as he climbed back onto the dock.
The dealer groaned from the ground, still half-unconscious.
Jack turned on his heel, whistling as he walked away. Mk followed, rubbing his temples. As the two headed deep into the Isles harbour.
The harbor bustled with the usual pirate chaos—merchants haggling over stolen goods, drunken sailors brawling in the streets, and the occasional unlucky fool being tossed into the sea for unpaid debts. But Jack, Mk, and Gego had their eyes on something else entirely: the massive pirate billboard.
It was an old, splintered wooden board, nailed together with patches of iron and hanging lanterns on either side. Tattered wanted posters covered its surface, fluttering lightly in the sea breeze. Some were fresh, with ink still bold and crisp, while others were worn and sun-bleached, their criminals likely long dead or forgotten.
Jack's eyes gleamed as he stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, let's see what kind of talent we're dealing with here."
He scanned the board eagerly, his fingers dancing from one poster to the next. 9,000 rubies. 10,500. 12,000. He moved left. 11,200. 14,000. Right. 19,000. Back again.
Mk and Gego flanked him, also peering at the names.
"Some of these guys don't look half bad," Mk admitted.
Gego chittered, pointing at a poster of a man with a ridiculous mustache. Jack barely gave it a glance before shaking his head. "Nope."
And then he saw it.
Captain Smollet – 15,000 rubies
Jack twirled the poster in his fingers, then shrugged. He sighed, glancing back at the board. "If he was worth this much, then maybe this list isn't as stacked as I hoped." His excitement dimmed as he tossed the poster back up. "Maybe coming to a pirate isle to recruit a crew was a mistake. Maybe I should've made a name for myself first before even trying."
Mk tilted his head. "Hold on. Smollet was a high-bounty pirate. And you technically beat him, right?"
Jack gave him a sideways glance. "Yeah?"
"So…" Mk smirked. "Doesn't that make you a big name? Maybe you can use that."
Jack blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.
"Good idea."
Without hesitation, Jack cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed at the top of his lungs:
"I DEFEATED SMOLLET!!!"
The entire street of pirates turned. Some stopped mid-drink. Others lowered their weapons in the middle of an argument. For a brief second, the air was thick with curiosity.
Then—
Laughter.
A wave of chuckles, snorts, and outright cackling erupted through the crowd. Pirates shook their heads, some slapping their knees, others patting Jack on the shoulder like he was some clueless newcomer.
Jack stood there, arms still raised, watching as the amusement spread and the crowd went back to their business.
"…Well," he muttered. "That didn't work."
Mk crossed his arms, nodding.
Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess Smollet wasn't as impressive to them as I thought."
Mk hummed, thinking. Then, suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Wait. What if we prove it?"
Jack frowned. "How?"
"we do have his ship rightt? Maybe there's something on it—an ornament, his hat, something that pirates recognize as his."
Jack's eyes lit up again. "Not bad, Mk." He clapped him on the back. "Go for it. Take Gego with you."
Mk sighed, already regretting the plan but knowing there was no talking Jack out of it now. "
As Mk and Gego walked off toward the docks, Jack turned back to the board, picking up another poster. He studied it for a second, then tossed it aside.
"No."
Another one.
"No."
Another.
"No."
The night breeze carried the sound of rustling paper as Jack kept searching, picking and discarding, searching for something—or someone—worth, as the moon crescent shined the sky.