A Fun Time: Clockwork Island 3.4

My body was weird. I had already noticed the changes in appearance, and how strong I was, but I don't think it had ever been clearer than when it came to recovering. Tae gave me the news -- in total, I had shattered nearly every bone in my hands and feet, three broken ribs, second-degree burns littered across my flesh, internal hemorrhaging, internal bruising, and an awful concussion. By all logic, I should be dead. If I didn't die, then at least, I would have permanent damage to my hands and feet when I turned them into bloody mulch by punching and kicking Bear King.

And that would be after like a year of recovery time and a lifetime of physical therapy.

With this body?

Three days. Three days for my shattered hands and feet and bones to put themselves together again. For the burns to fade along with the bruises. Three days until I was completely fine and back at a hundred percent. While my body certainly played its part, my miraculous recovery was helped by two things.

Tae’s medicine. I had seen her in action a bit after patching up my bumps and bruises given to me by Ippo, but she had massively undersold herself by calling herself a sawbones. Most doctors couldn't take a bunch of herbal remedies, grind them up, stick ‘em in a pill, then give it to me. At least not without horrible side effects because the balance between medicine and poison was pretty thin. Tae seemed to dance on that line with completely unfamiliar ingredients that she wielded to great effect.

The other thing was my third breathing style -- Recovery Breathing. Instead of using my breathing to make my body stronger, I adopted a rhythm to aid in my recovery. The rhythm directed those energized blood cells to my injuries -- at first, it was a real hammer, but after a couple of days, I was getting a better handle on it to aid in my recovery. The swelling went down early on, and it even seemed to help with my bones mending. More than that, though, the longer I did it, the more energized I felt. Pulling an allnighter -- something that I had previously struggled with without a liberal amount of coffee -- was nearly effortless so long as I maintained Recovery Breathing.

The point being? I was on my feet way ahead of schedule.

"Oh, cool," I muttered, passing by a window that had a number of knick-knacks on display with little price tags on them. They looked like wind-up toys. In the past three days, Clockwork villagers were quickly recovering from their time in captivity. The people on the street were happy and smiling, even as they busied themselves with repairing the damage wrought by the battle between the celebrations.

"It's Kaine! Glad to see you up!" A random man I had never in my life seen before told me, giving me a megawatt smile as he just walked around with his family in the afternoon sun. His wife and kid waved at me, and I waved back. It was still pretty weird having people I didn't know come up and thank me. Not weird in a bad way, it was just something I wasn't used to. It was nice being appreciated. I just didn't really like all the hero worship thrown my way.

They didn't really see me. They saw what I did, and projected that image upon me. So, when they waved and greeted and thanked me, it sometimes felt like they were speaking to someone else that I didn't know rather than me.

Quickly stepping into the knick-knack shop, I eyed the clockwork souvenirs that lined the walls on shelving and display stands. There were a bunch -- windmills, paddle boats, twirling ballerinas, even a sun going over a hill. The bell that rang when I entered the quaint little building alerted someone in the backroom because I heard a thunk, a crash, and a, "Just a second! I'll be right with you!"

True to his word, a second later a short man emerged from the back room wearing a pair of glasses so thick that they were practically binoculars. "Welcome to Clockwork Emporium, I'm Sandal, how-" he started before his eyes widened and I swear I could see the germs swimming in his cornea at high definition when he did. "It's you!"

"It's me!" I returned -- this part was a little fun, I could admit. "I was hoping to pick up a souvenir," I told him. It was an old habit of mine. It started way back when I was a kid when I would treat each outing as a vacation-worthy event and bring home a souvenir to remember it by. It could be a seashell, a cool rock, or a particularly interesting stick. Didn't really matter. As I got older, I stopped bringing home literal trash and always made sure that I got a souvenir every time I went somewhere noteworthy. By all accounts, this was a noteworthy island with a cool story attached to it.

"Of course! I- actually, I have just the thing!" Sandal declared before quickly heading back into the backroom in a dead sprint and grabbing something. "It's my latest piece! To celebrate our heroes!" He informed, setting the piece down on the counter gingerly. The piece was a miniature Icarus, I saw. It was surprisingly detailed too. On its back was a small key that he turned a few times to wind something up within, and when he let it go the interior of the blimp lit up while a triumphant tune was played that sounded eerily similar to Links treasure chest song.

"Wow," I breathed, finding myself oddly touched by the clockwork toy. I could tell that a lot of love went into it. And that meant something to me far more than a thank you could convey.

Sandal smiled at my reaction, "Please, take it! It's a gift for what you did for us. We were going to spend the rest of our days making weapons… without you, I never would have gotten to make toys again." He pushed the Clockwork Icarus towards me. It was probably the greatest gift I have ever been given.

"Thank you," I said, taking the toy and taking out a few thousand beli bills that make Sandal shake his head so hard that he might get whiplash.

"I can't accept payment!" He denied it, but I slapped the bills on the counter anyway.

"It's a capitalist market! The customer decides what something's worth!" I countered, catching him off guard before I began to walk away.

"That's not how capitalism works! At all!" He protested, but I was already out the door with a cheeky smile. Stepping out with the clockwork Icarus in hand, I glanced around -- Clockwork Village did seem a lot different when it wasn't inhabited by a bunch of pirates. It struck me as the type of sleepy and quiet village that years could go by without anything of note happening.

I let out a content sigh, "Let's go see how Momo's doing," I said, walking off in the direction of the castle. The castle itself turned out to be a renovated laboratory and manufacturing facility that Clockwork Island was working to change back. It was where everyone in the village, thousands of people, were forced to work for nearly a decade to develop and test weapons.

As it turned out -- Bear King was more of an arms dealer than an actual pirate. He supplied guns, cannons, and weapons to any aspiring pirate crew, bandit, rebel, or kingdom in East Blue. Because of that, I was absolutely certain that Nami was holding out on us when it came to how much money she found because thirty million beli was a lot, but not anywhere near the amount that the Trump Pirates had raked in. In any case, the building was a huge foundry as well and that made it Momo's natural habitat.

The construction room was below the surface -- a huge room that was packed with materials, and while signs pointed to it once being packed to the brim, only a handful of figures were in the large room now. I had figured that none of the villagers would ever want to set foot down here ever again. It looked like it had been their work camp, and their sleeping quarters rolled into one. Yet, all the same, there were several of them that were working on what would be the Icurus 2.0.

Already, I could tell that it was going to be a much larger ship than the previous Icarus. The ship was being assembled in parts and sections, not unlike more modern shipyards, but there was enough after only a few days to give me an impression of what the final product would look like. A lot of gearwork tech was being implemented, though I had no idea what it would all do. The ship itself was going to be at least five times larger than the Icarus 1.0.

And that was pretty welcomed news. Sharing a boat the length of fifty feet with eight women, even if one of them was a fairy, was pretty rough. Especially when there was only one bathroom. So, the upgrades and a massively increased size were more than welcome, though it didn't come without cost.

I saw Momo chowing down on a large bowl of dango balls while her other hand produced silverish metallic bars. There was an expression of intense concentration on her face which was a little at odds with how her cheeks were so stuffed that she resembled a squirrel.

"Kaine," Momo greeted, offering a slight smile as she swallowed and daintily wiped her lips with a nearby folded napkin. "What brings you down here?"

"I come bearing a gift," I said, revealing the clockwork Icarus from behind my back Momo's eyes lit up in appreciation as I passed it to her, letting her inspect it with an appreciative smile. "Figured you could use a pick-me-up after keeping up the pace so long," I said, glancing at the piles of silverish ingots. “Have you taken a break at all?”

Momo let out a soft sigh, setting the clockwork Icarus down, “I am the only means of producing the lightweight steel necessary for the Icarus to fly. Most of the previous iteration was salvaged, which helps things, but to meet our projected timeline of two weeks, I need to produce roughly a metric ton of bamboo steel a day.” Her lips thinned at the challenge as her gaze flickered to the ingots. “As it is, we're already twelve hours behind schedule because I fell asleep yesterday.”

"Momo, you're the reason that this is even possible, so don't go feeling bad about not being able to pull an entire ship out of yourself. You're only human," I reminded her. She really did expect a lot from herself.

"Thank you, Kaine, but the truth is that I'm the choke point for production," Momo stated. She spoke in a no-nonsense tone, and she was right, but she was also missing the point.

"I get that," I told her, offering a shrug. "But don't put too much pressure on yourself. We have the Trump Pirates ships -- a good dozen of them. We can use them if we need to. You don't need to go killing yourself. We're not in a rush," I told her, my tone every bit as factual and firm as hers. Momo appeared like she wanted to argue the point, but when I cocked an eyebrow, she instead lowered her head.

"I will take that under advisement," she said in the most nonanswer tone of voice I've ever heard.

“Okay, emergency measures then,” I decided, walking around the table she had been using before grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her into a chair. “Relax a little, Momo. Two weeks or two months, it doesn't really matter. Go at a reasonable pace. Or maybe we redesign the Icarus so it doesn't need so much bamboo steel.” As I spoke, I massaged her shoulders.

Either Momo had the resistance of a wet paper bag, or I had the magic touch because the fierce tension had just melted out of Momo. A low downright seductive moan escaped her as she leaned into my touch, and while her body was weak, her spirit was much more resilient. “Kaine, I can't rest…”

“It's just a little break is all,” I reassured. “Did you know that someone who works a hundred hours does the same amount of work as someone who only worked forty? Time off is government mandated for a reason, you know. So, realistically speaking, you'll accomplish more later if you rest a little now. Plus, not to mention that if you over do it and hurt yourself, then there's no way the Icurus can fly again.”

A long drawn out blissful sigh escaped Momo as I continued to knead her flesh, “You've made your point, Kaine…” Yeah, I had the magic touch.

With a grin, I felt the tension ease away. “Beyond being worked like a workhorse, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing excellent!” Momo declared though I doubt that she would have said otherwise in any case. “It’s been exciting to learn about the scientific development of this world. Did you know that because most of this world is covered in water, there have been entire nations that developed completely independent of each other? Clockwork Island is such an example! They’ve focused their development exclusively on gearwork mechanisms to the point that they’ve even replicated advanced technology with them!” Momo stated, excitement shining in her eyes as she tilted her head back to look at me.

I noted the rather excellent view of her cleavage before responding. “And I’m guessing you're trying to stuff all of it into the new Icarus.”

“Most of it,” Momo agreed. “It has been fascinating. It’s also opened the possibility of development of alternative fuels beyond iceburst crystal and fairy dust.” Her excitement did take a hit when she mentioned the dust.

“Still no luck?” I asked her, earring a small sigh from her.

“Replicating it has proven fruitless, even if I can create an exact copy structurally. My efforts with flight have also had a similar… lack of results,” she said, sounding apologetic.

“Momo, you’ll get it eventually. Just have to have a little faith is all,” I told her, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. She was the only one that hasn’t had any luck with flying. Nami tried it once but hadn’t done so since, even if she had managed it. She never said why. Momo offered a small nod, likely used to the reassurance, but it seemed like she harbored doubts that she would get it at all.

The sound of a door opening interrupted me from doubling down to make Momo believe it. Glancing over revealed Kobeni and Nami -- the latter quickly darted over to Momo, smacking my hands away, before completely usurping my massage. “You look tired, big sis! Here, let me melt all that tension right out of you…”

Momo seemed a bit surprised but pleased, “Thank you, Nami.” I don’t know what was worse -- how blatant Nami’s attempts to butter Momo up, or the fact that they were clearly working. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course, anything for you, big sis!”

I rolled my eyes and turned my eyes to Kobeni, who seemed focused on me. “The Marines have been spotted for the prisoner pickup,” she informed with some guarded caution that I couldn't identify.

The Marines were here for a pick up? Finally. I wasn't there for it, but there was a huge ordeal just getting them to believe that Clockwork Island had been liberated. I was looking forward to getting the Trump Pirates off the island. “That's good. I'll meet them and do the hand off.”

Though, honestly, the hand-off was a lesser concern. “How's Bocchi doing?” I asked, making Kobeni’s lips thinned nervously.

“She's still in shock, I think? But she has been working with one of the engineers to build something.” Kobeni offered, and that was about as much as we could hope for.

Everyone responded to near death experiences differently. I laughed them off. Bocchi, however, had shut herself in a room for about three days and refused to speak to anyone. “Well, it's progress,” I coped. I was going to have to find a way to make this up to Bocchi somehow. Just to get her mind off of it.

“One other thing,” Kobeni said with a small wince. “Kim and Mikasa have been sparring.”

I… okay? “So?” I questioned, not sure where the topic was going.

“Kim was doing alright in the initial bouts, but Mikasa started to dominate the fight not long after. When it comes to hand-to-hand, Mikasa is a frighteningly fast learner,” Kobeni continued and I still wasn’t clear on why this was an issue. “Kim’s getting frustrated.”

Nami seemed to agree, “She’s a sore loser.” She offered and surprisingly got a nod of agreement from Kobeni.

“So… the sparring is about to become a fight?” I questioned and it seemed that I was right based on the expressions I got. That was a first. In the past two weeks we’ve known each other, there had been a lack of butting heads. I’m pretty sure that was mostly because everyone was trying to avoid setting anything off when we were crammed into the Icarus. For something like this to happen now was a little weird. “Alright, I’ll take care of it. After dealing with the Navy.”

Given that I was suddenly on a time crunch, I elected to head down to the beach. The central spire had an elevator that made getting down a thousand times easier than it had been to get up. Upon opening, I saw that the remaining Trump Pirates were on the beach, thoroughly browbeaten and completely bound in a rather unnecessary amount of bindings. The Trump Pirates started off with around five hundred total pirates, and their grand fleet was cut down to just over two hundred. And half of those were missing a limb or two.

It was why the Navy was sending over a prison barge to pick them up instead of us bringing the pirates to them.

I heard the Trump siblings before I saw them. “You murdering, traitorous piece of filth! I can’t believe I ever followed you into becoming a pirate! I can’t believe that you’re even my brother!” Honey Queen raged at a thoroughly beaten Bear King. I'm not sure what they were, but the manacles on Honey Queen and Bear King had somehow robbed them of their powers. They were sea stone, or something, and they had a pair just in case Bear King’s ‘Queen’ happened to have devil fruit powers.

That being said, without his toughness, more than a few disgruntled villagers had snuck into his holding cell to get their licks in. Honestly, I’m surprised that he was still alive.

There were some mild glares from the pirates, but most of them seemed to accept their fate. At least for now. The Navy sent an absolutely massive ship meant to house the prisoners that parked itself at the end of a long dock. Walking down it, I was greeted by a man wearing a pinstripe three-piece suit, and, more interestingly, he had bolts for knuckles. “Lieutenant Commander ‘Double Iron Fist’ Fullbody here for a prisoner pick up,” Fullbody -- and what a fucking name -- said, gazing out to the beach. “I thought it would be a huge waste of time coming here, but would you look at that. The Trump Pirates really have been defeated.”

He sized me up for a moment and seemed to find me unimpressive, flicking his light pink hair back that harshly contrasted his deeply tanned skin, “And you’re the one that defeated them?” He sounded so contrite that I instantly became annoyed with him.

“Me and my group,” I answered, walking with Fullbody while the marines in sailor uniforms began to filter by us to start the transfer to the barge.

“At a quick count, half of them are missing. The Trump Pirates are confirmed to have five hundred to their jolly roger. Did you let them get away?” He questioned and I really didn’t care for the dig. I mean, I actually didn’t care. Not at all, really. It was just annoying because he decided to be a petty passive-aggressive asshole right out the gate for no real reason as far as I could tell.

“Nah -- they’re dead,” I told him bluntly, and that caught Fullbody off guard. “During clean-up, the villagers put the bodies onto the Trump Pirates flagship and burnt it at sea. The only body we still have is Boo Jack.” That seemed to change his tune.

His lips thinned and he gave me a far more measuring once over, “How large is your outfit?” He asked me.

“Nine.”

“... hundred?”

“No, people,” I corrected. Me, Mikasa, Kim, Tinkerbell, Momo, Bocchi, Kobeni, Tae, and Nami. Fullbody seemed like he really needed a second to process that, so I gave it to him in favor of watching the main officers for the Trump Pirates being dragged to us. I was amused by the fact that Honey Queen wasn’t lashing out at the marines who were escorting her to prison; instead, she kicked out at Bear King and hit him with all of her strength.

Bear King lunged for me as he passed by but I didn’t flinch even as Fullbody did. Skunk One and Pin Jack offered defiant glares. Interestingly, Honey Queen blew me a kiss before trying to kick Bear King into the ocean and the marines were all too willing to let her try. I watched them go before turning my attention to Fullbody.

He was staring at me like he couldn’t figure me out. I cocked an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, a marine called out. “Lieutenant Commander! There’s a call!” He informed, carrying the transponder snail decked out in marine colors complete with a little hat between his eyestalks. Adorable. Fullbody straightened up, snatching the receiver from the snail.

“Lieutenant Commander ‘Double-” Fullbody started to introduce himself and he seriously did that every time, huh?

“Don’t care,” A familiar voice filtered through of Vice-Admiral Garp, sounding thoroughly disinterested. “Put the brat on.” Fullbody glanced at me, silently questioning if I was the brat in question and I sighed before holding out a hand.

“Yo, Garp,” I greeted and Fullbody looked like I punched him square in the dick when he heard the name. “Sweating yet?”

“Not even in your dreams. I’m callin’ to tell you that I talked to Sengoku and he said that Vice-Admiral is out the cards. But, he said you could join as an Ensign. You get to wear the cool coat with Justice on the back.” He informed through a mouth full of food.

I scoffed, “No way! Who does this Sengoku guy think he is?”

“A pain in my butt,” Garp answered while one of the marines pulled out a paper to give me a visual aid with a panicked expression. He pointed to the front page that had a guy with dark black hair, a braided beard on the bottom of his chin, and… huh…

“Tell ‘em that it’s Vice Admiral or bust. And I want a hat with a seagull on it too, like his,” I tacked on another demand to my list. It was just so wild to see. I coveted it. Garp seemed to love that response given how the transponder started to laugh loudly with a ‘Bwahahahaha!’

“Eh, sure. I could use a laugh. Good luck on the hunt, brat,” Garp said, hanging up with a ‘cla-chak’ as the snail resumed its default blank expression.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” Fullbody hissed through clenched teeth, his hands groping the air like he wanted to strangle me. I gave him a mild glare that told him to keep his hands to himself, and he got the message loud and clear. “That was Vice-Admiral Garp. Garp the Hero,” he stressed. “He’s trying to headhunt you? And you’re supposed to bargain down, not up!”

“Meh -- that’s quitters talk for people that don’t know what they’re worth,” I dismissed pretty much everything he said out of hand. Mostly because I didn’t like him. “Speaking of worth -- do you have the bounty money?” I asked him, inclining my head at the bounties that were walking aboard his ship. “Garp said that I would have to go through some bounty office, but I never heard anything about it.”

Fullbody appeared like he wanted to strangle me again but wisely decided not to because I absolutely would slap the shit out of him for it. “We don’t carry forty million beli on the ships on account that it could be an ambush. It's happened before. What I can give you is a voucher, signed by me, that you can bring to one of the marine bases and they’ll pay you out upon confirmation that the bounty has been incarcerated.” He explained and that sounded like a lot of hoops to jump through. “The nearest one is in Dawn island, where this lot is being escorted to until they can be tried and sentenced.”

As he spoke, he handed me that voucher that had a lot in common with a cashier's check back in my old world. It had his signature. He even put ‘Double Iron Fist’ in his signature. What an absolute tool. I gave it a glance over, not really sure what I was searching for, but it seemed right. The total was correct -- thirty-eight million beli and some change. In all, the transaction was completed. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it,” I started, making him speak up.

“Actually,” Fullbody continued. “I would like to know what you intend to do with their ships?”

I shrugged, “I was just going to let the island decide what to do with them.” I answered, earning a smirk from Fullbody.

“That’s very altruistic of you,” he said, saying altruistic in the same tone other people said naive. “But, given that you were the ones that defeated the Trump Pirates, the ships are classified as spoils, leaving them up to you to do with. Unless you’re planning to start your own fleet, five ships is a lot. Personally, I recommend that you bring them to a shipyard to either be resold or dismantled. There’s one in the Frauce Kingdom that will give you a good rate if you use my name.” He said, offering me a smirk.

It sounded like he had a nice get-rich scheme going on there. I imagine that a lot of the pirate ships he reports as sunk end up at that dockyard and if I name-dropped him, he would get a nice cut of the profits. “I’ll keep it in mind,” I hedged, walking away from the thoroughly unpleasant man. I really didn’t like how he more or less wore his corruption on his sleeve. How he spoke had the same energy as a cop suggesting that the drug money reported being less than what was found.

It just made me feel slimy. Dirty. Didn’t care for it at all.

The Navy took their time loading the pirates into the ship. It wasn’t all smooth sailing from what I could see. There were a number of escape attempts, and there were more than a few marines that were a little rougher than necessary. I personally didn’t care for it, but I also found it hard to care given that those same pirates enslaved hundreds of people for a decade. They deserved more than a couple of slaps from jeering marines.

Making my way up to the top of the island once again, I headed off to tick the last thing on my agenda today. Kim and Mikasa.

I knew where Mikasa liked to work out -- the very top of the castle, so I headed on up. The top of the castle offered an incredible view of the village, but more than that, it also had a pool that she used for training. Mikasa proved that she was a great swimmer because even weighed down with five hundred extra pounds, she could broad stroke with the best of them. It was as I arrived, the door to the elevator sliding open, that I saw that I might be a little late to circumvent an actual fight.

Kim and Mikasa were going at it. Or, rather, Kim was going at Mikasa, who was sporting a bloody nose while Kim had a split lip. Both girls glared at each other while Kim launched into a series of punches -- light jabs that were quickly followed by high and low kicks. She was a great fighter. Picture perfect really. However, it just didn’t matter to Mikasa. Effortlessly, she weaved through them, her hands up and the moment that Kim’s guard dropped, she planted a fist in her solar plexus.

Kim dropped, trying to not give in to the coughing fit and regulate her breathing, and tried to sweep Mikasa’s legs. Kim moved with anger in her strikes. There was frustration in her gaze as blood dripped down her chin, her knuckles bloodless, swinging at Mikasa with the intention to hurt. Mikasa, on the other hand, was ice cold and precise. Her expression and gaze betrayed absolutely nothing, and in a way, that was worse when her hand flickered out to deliver a jab to Kim’s jaw.

Neither noticed me as I approached. I wasn’t even trying to hide or be stealthy. They were so completely absorbed in their spat that was rapidly brewing into a full-on fight that they completely missed me.

Right up until I caught both of them by the ribs and pushed them into the pool. Mikasa made a lot bigger splash than Kim did, but both were sputtering when they clung to the side. “Who-” Kim started, the anger vanishing from her face the moment that she saw me. “Kaine? What’s the big idea?”

“That,” I started, watching the two crawl out of the pool, soaking wet, “is my line.”

Looking between the two of them, I saw that Kim seemed ashamed while Mikasa glanced away sharply.

“Let's take it from the top and tell me what started this?”

And, as one, Mikasa and Kim looked to each other.

““She did.””

Right. This was going to be an entire thing, wasn’t it?