Ilusia smelled like basil. Fresh port air swept in from the sea waves. Each breath was refreshing. The sun was out. Scores of travelers docked at the harbors. Boxes and packaged cargo were unloaded by ship hands or port workers. All the handlers’ shirts were smeared with gunk or a stain. The foot traffic thumped the harbor wood and made a break-beat. Swept over by the wind, their bandanas flapped and large trousers ballooned. A symphony of yells directed the workers from post on the ships and at the head of the docking bays. Goods were coming and going under the afternoon’s sunshine.

Beyond the bay sprawled streets. Dirt paths cut between small huts and buildings. Front entrances to bars were crowded, big gut ale drinking bouncers filled with airways with their funk, some passerbyer with a buddy or two weaving laughs with lies. Tall palm trees gave the villagers shade to chill under. Street workers hid behind some as as though waiting for that fated seaman looking to finally  get his rocks off after a long sea voyage. Stocky men wrestled in the open streets. Mismatched pairs chuckled and pointed. Women in aprons stood out their front doors barking. A man with a harvest hat plopped on a rock at the neighborhood’s corner strummed a harmony on his guitar. Lyrics garbled out his stupid grinning mouth.

Up the street a man rode a brown horse to the town’s centre.

His blood-red cropped hair capped by a purple pirate's hat and feather marked him for who he was: the notorious Willy D Heartwell, also known as 'The Wily Coyote'. His skin was banana yellow and his round green eyes were deep set. He leaned into the stallion’s mane, dizzied from a night's worth of philandering and drinking. The black coat he wore on his shoulders looked prime for the taking. His body bopped up and down – up and down. The blast of wind resisting him was embraced with a wide smirk. He didn’t even blink. He and the mount pass the tall buildings, his men trailing behind him like zombies, equally, if not more drunken that him even. They would not last the hour.

He kept riding and riding, right pass a bar’s dead neon light signed: Swordfish II.  Glaze eyes waved over the building, deciding whether to try for just one more round or not. The left side of his lip twitched. Drool wanted to slide out his mouth into the world to embarrass him, but he was too mindful. T

“WILY COYOTE!! YOU HAVE BEEN SENTENCED TO DEATH!”


A voice called. The man gazed upward disoriented, yet sharpened by the severity of the shout. The moon shined behind a giant figure on a roof. “Ay… by who?”

"Me."

Raja launched himself from the roof, his wings carrying his aloft the wind and a fist, twice the size of a normal one, even in his altered zoana state crashed into body of the horse he rode, sending him and the mare flying into the nearest wall. The explosion of force knocked back the waywar drunken bodyguards and Raja's feet hit the ground, ready for a fight.

"OWWW, that fucking hurt!"

Raja had to admit, the man's durability impressed him. He climbed from the rubble of wood panels and the awkward limbs of a dead horse, dusted off that brilliant, black captain's coat. He shifted his gaze to his men, stumbling, one passed out on the spot, and yelled at them to get up and do their jobs. He hadn't looked at Raja once yet. It was... annoying.

Bodies seemed to fling themselves at him, though thwarted one after another. The weight some of the men did more to stop him than their actual strength. He grabbed and flung, pushed and pulled, chocking one and breaking the jaw of the other until....

SLICE!!!

Raja roared in pain at the sensation, looking to find a nub where his left arm had once been and a fallen, bloody sword held by a grim and drunkenly cheerful face with orange hair, green emerald eyes and a pirate's cap and feather.

Raja had to act fast... there was only one way to fix this...

Giga...Regeneration!

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The Gecko Zoan screamed a raspy, deep moan at the sheer pain emanating from his shoulder. His arm had been sliced clean off by the strike of Wily's sword. Along with the pain of the tendons, bone and nerve ending tearing from each other was the a strange feeling of emptiness, or emptying rather. He felt off balanced, less than himself, unbelievably off kilter and desperately in need of some kind of sobering. Wasn't pain the ultimate sobering technique? What do you do when you need sobering from the sobering? Perhaps he needed the opposite of it, then. A drink would have been well received.

He flung himself backward, his wings lifting him off the ground and into the wall of a building. His hand, the only one he had left, touched the building and instantly stuck to it. He kicked off his shoes with either foot and was suddenly kneeling vertically on the building, completely in place as thought he were standing on the very ground he'd just run from.

"GEHEHEHHEHE! Look at the little worm, go! I don't know who the hell you--HICCUP--think you are, but I'm Willy D Heartwell, Pirate Captain of the Wily Heart Pirates, you scum!"

The man pulled his wrist to his mouth, and a baby den den mushi was strapped to a wristband. The den den clanked alive and the pirate captain screamed into the receiver!

"Hey, you sons of bitches! Get your asses assembled and down here to the bar district right now! We have vermin to killlllll!"

Raja's breath pushed in and out, slowly and with much concentration as though each attempt to draw in air sent slivers of pain through each fiber of his being. It was likely accurate as well. He took a second to breathe while the man hollered for his crew to answer his transponder snail. Finally, Raja managed a shaky grin on his face at the man's pointless attempts.

"You mean.... captain.... of the late.... Wily Heart Pirates..."

The man's expression changed instantly, his eyes widening and his mouth gaping open at what his attacker had just said.

"No... No, you fucking shit. You're lying.... RICKJAW, you son of a bitch, come in!!!"

Suddenly, his message echoed from the on top the wall with Raja. The Cipher Pol agent reached into his pocket and pulled out an identical transponder snail that shouted out the man's calls for help, clearly belonging to the late Rickjaw, First Mate of the Wily Heart Pirates.

"I'm afraid Rickjaw is as dead as that two-bid vessel you called a pirate ship... but don't worry, you're men did not abandon it as it sunk to the bottom of the bay..."

He let the transponder snail slip from his fingers all fall onto the ground beneath him.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, you one armed piece of shit! Come down here!"

"Giga... Regeneration..."

Raja's body seized and more screams ripped from gritted teeth and his torn nub began to ooze a strange clear fluid. Wily looked in horror at what was happening. What was happening?

"No... no... you can't ...."

He turned and looked at teh arm on the ground, its skin beginning to wrinkle and age, its size half of what it was. He looked back to see Raja's nub now twice the size it was and growing, forming an identical copy of its original state.

"HA HA HA HA HAAAA.... are you ready to die?"

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After a few moments, his limb had fully regrown itself, though off by one or two shades off in its colour. Raja knew that it wouldn't be fully returned to its former strength anytime soon, but it was a lot better than fighting with one hand. The pirate stared up at him, clutching his sword in both hands. He was enraged and that anger seemed to be sobering him enough to fight now.

"Come down here you little fucking worm, I'll cut that off off, too!"

Raja grinned and pushed himself off the building, rocketing towards the man who had his sword raised and ready for the impact. The Cipher Pol agent was not an idiot, though. He was not about to collide head on with a sword. Instead, seconds before he reached him, he disappeared and reappeared behind the man who'd slashed his blade a second too slowly. That was not it, though. Before Raja even turned around his tail wrapped itself around the man's neck, pulling him up and over with the momentum of his dive. The captain surged into the wall in front of them and completely through it, crashing into the bar and destroying the interior of the building.

It'd have been enough to put anyone out of their misery, but just in case it wasn't Raja lept up and into the air, flying as high as his wings would let him. He reached out his arm and it engorged into a fiercesome thing, twice its original size. But this time it began to secrete a gooey liquid, around it until the entire arm was spiked with a hardened gel! The winged gecko began his descent, gaining the speed and momentum he was hoping for.

"ARMORED PUMPERRRRR"

He smashed his enlarged fist into the building and it instantly erupted into a demolished heap, caving inward and likely crushing anything inside. The man was dead and his mission was completed. With that knowledge, he smiled and flew off into the night sky, satisfied with his accomplished assignment.

The Wily Heart Pirates were a thing of the past.

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