Ouken had spent his childhood with the world hidden under a veil set by his grandparents. Whether it was hiring a private trainer or sending him to an academy meant to discipline young adults in order to prepare them for life in the marines, his grandparent's sole goal was to train the young Ouken to become a marine. His father, his grandfather, and those before him were all marines; it was just part of the Fell legacy. The marine training was fruitful, teaching Ouken a lot about himself as a person and about the skills required to survive as a soldier, but it wasn't until he was fifteen years old that Ouken saw for himself two marines mugging an innocent man in the back alleys of Loguetown. That pinnacle moment of his childhood is when he officially decided to defy his grandparents' plan for him, instead choosing to go out to sea on his own accord. He wished for an unrestricted view of what the world had to offer and leaving his family and the promise of a solid life as a marine was the only way Ouken believed he'd be able to freely form an opinion on what he saw.

Leaving the academy at fifteen left Ouken a lot of time to sail the ocean. Eight years of his young adult life were spent jumping from ship to ship, from crew to crew, just earning enough beli to survive on his sabbatical. Ouken offered his services to various crews in return for a small wage, but mostly for the rights to stay aboard while the crew sailed from to islands close by. He offered no loyalty, honest about his desire to simply experience the crew and the places that they saw. This honesty caught him a fair share of scrapes aboard certain, less understanding ships. There were a lot of different types for him to meet though, including those that easily became friends and not just the ones that wanted to force his allegiance or fight him. All of these people, both good and not so good, taught Ouken valuable lessons as he sailed. He learned the basics of being part of a crew, such as learning how to raise and lower the sails or how to prepare vegetables for the meals that were cooked to feed them all. He was also forced to learn the basics of fighting. While his main interest remains in the rifle that was given to him at the start of his marine training, learning and understanding the basics of close-combat has helped him greatly over the years. It not only kept him safe from most aggressive comers aboard ships, but it also allowed him a method of obtaining money by taking on street fights for a modest prize pool.

Needless to say, Ouken's years spent aboard these various ships bore fruit in the way of experience, and even greater, the desire to strike out on his own. After eight years, he had decided that jumping from ship to ship wasn't exciting enough to continue doing. Sure, it taught him a lot and he met a lot of people doing it, but the ships that would take him were filled with people of a low level compared to the seafaring deities of the Yonko and marine admirals. He wanted to experience the world, which he was doing, but he'd never see the furthest reaching parts if he couldn't get stronger and put together a crew of his own with the same willpower to endure the more dangerous parts of the ocean. With the decision to do that, he was adamant that the best place to begin a quest such as that would be Jaya - an island run by pirates, some would say. Ouken had been to the island multiple times over the years, but this would be the first time he'd step foot on it with his current goal.

The ship he was currently on was a small, locally run fishing boat that had made a stop at a nearby island to sell some of their catch. It was at that stop that Ouken offered his help and was able to catch a ride to Jaya. As luck would have it, they managed to make a large catch on their way back to their hometown, which meant that Ouken would have a little bit of pocket money for his first few days on Jaya. Not much, but enough to get by. As the island became visible over the horizon, Ouken's bones quaked with excitement. Things were going well for him since he'd made the decision to start his own crew and the future looked bright for him.

After a short while staring at the island as they closed in, the ship docked and the the crew was let out onto the island. Before Ouken crossed the gangplank to Jaya, he was grabbed by the captain of the vessel and pulled to the side.

"Okay, boy," he spoke. The captain was an old man that simply looked like a grouch, but his tone was calm and strangely comforting. "My crew will handle the unloading, so I'll pay you now and you're free to go."

Ouken took the money he was offered, thanking him graciously before bowing and stepping off the ship.

As he took his first step off onto the island, he realized that he was looking down. It didn't make sense to him that he'd be looking down when stepping on to an island that he was relatively accustomed to, but the realization somehow made him more excited. It was almost as if he was excited by the fact that his excitement was making him nervous. In spite of this, Ouken's goal remained the same and he pushed through, lifting his head to look at the port he had landed in. To his surprise, the island actually looked different. He blinked hard, rubbing his eyes before taking another bewildering look into the face of his adventure. His goal was clear, and it seemed to lift a thin veil over the island, making it look a lot more hopeful than it had the previous times that he had visited.

Ouken walked on, continuing into the center of Mock Town. The town was said to be mostly populated by pirates and only able to thrive because of the money that was spent by those motley crews that docked here. Ouken had come to Jaya multiple times before, but it was only on this occasion that he truly understood the predicament that he had elected to put himself into. In a town where power was directly related to the bounty on your head, Ouken carried a bounty with the grand total of nothing. He may have called himself a pirate, but it truly showed as self-proclaimed now that he was standing on an island with a bunch of them. Unfortunately for him, Ouken was a candy striper compared to some of the big names that crawled across the land. He'd never be able to accrue a crew with such little weight behind his name.

Ouken took a seat on a nearby step, propping his chin up with an arm and tapping his cheek in thought.

"Pirates are like prison inmates in the free world," he thought to himself. "In order to gain respect you need to..." He pursed his lips and tapped his cheek more rapidly. "Fight! I have to fight someone! But that's a death wish... Can I just, I don't know, mingle?"

From his sitting position he looked around the town. It was just after noon and Mock Town was busy. It was easy to tell the difference between any average citizen in comparison to a pirate simply by the way and to where they'd carry themselves. Locals could be seen stopping in various shops and markets while the pirates tended to congregate in two areas: The port, and the pub. It wasn't until Ouken took this look around that he realized where the pirates were heading. He slowly turned his head as a man walked past him, keeping his gaze on the grungy guy until he lost sight of him through the doors of the pub that was right behind Ouken the whole time. As someone who prided himself on his eyes, he sure did disappoint himself sometimes.

Shaking his head, the young man stood up and walked through the doors himself. Upon entering he was greeted with an overcrowded building. Every bar stool, chair, and empty wall space was consumed by a body doing their best to relax and drink themselves into a stupor. As he weaved through the crowd, Ouken found himself finding the idea of drinking more and more enticing until he ordered himself a whiskey at the bar. His first few moments on the island were kind of stressful and he had a lot of work ahead of himself in creating his own crew, so one drink couldn't hurt. Could it?

It wouldn't! One drink wasn't even enough to tickle. But Ouken's taste buds were left wanting. A second one couldn't be that bad. The first was fine, the second would be too, and it'd loosen him up to talk to some of the other pirates in the pub with him. There was not down side to a second drink, according to Ouken's mind.

It wasn't until the third drink was finished that Ouken started feeling like he may need to cut down. After one more, at least.

Four drinks turned into five, five into six, and before he knew it, Ouken was a drunken mess like the rest of the rabble in the pub. Finally, after reaching the point of barely being able to stand, he decided that he needed to cut himself off and take a seat. With a final glass in hand, the count of which had long been lost, Ouken stumbled around the pub until he found a booth that was clear. Empty glasses littered the tabletop, but the seats were empty, so it was good enough for the drunken young man to take a load off. He took one last sip from his glass, gently setting it with the rest of them atop the table, and slowly his eyes began to close. It wasn't long before Ouken was asleep and the world began to shift around him.

The afternoon that Ouken would remember slowly became washed over with the dark blue of the evening. As the day slowly faded out to night, the pub faded from the daytime drunks to the nighttime party. The noise that the new crowd was making slowly began to creep up on Ouken, who had had plenty of time to sober himself over the last few hours. As he stirred, he managed to understand his surroundings just enough to push himself out of the booth and stumble over to the pub's counter. He rubbed his eyes trying to ward off the desire to crawl back into his makeshift bed for more nap time, but ordered himself a drink in the process to give him a little more reason to stay awake. He was still tired, but getting the drink worked like a charm. With his drink in hand, Ouken returned to his booth to slowly sip on it and enjoy the scene that he had awoken to.

The tables that had originally dotted the center of the pub had come to be replaced by a large group of drunken, dancing pirates and whatever female attention they could afford for themselves. Made up of all different shapes and sizes, the group was one massive clump of gyrating bodies that did a good job of entertaining Ouken now that he understood what was going on. Despite how eclectic the crowd seemed to be, everything seemed to be going well and looked like everyone was having a good time. From Ouken's vantage point, he could see that even the booths that surrounded the outer walls of the building looked to be filled with people enjoying watching the event unfold before them. All except for one of them.

Ouken wasn't pleased to witness the sight of a large man sitting alone in one of the booths. It wasn't so much the fact that the man was alone in the booth, seeing as it was easily understood that he was generally just too large to be able to share it with anyone else, but the attitude that this behemoth brought with him. After a few minutes of watching, Ouken had seen this unpleasant customer make grabs that the waitresses' backsides a couple of times, thrown some glasses, and even made on the the unfortunate servers cry as she ran into the back of the pub. While Ouken fancied himself a logical sort of guy who knew how to restrain himself, he could feel the hatred welling up inside himself. He continued to sip from his drink as he watched the man continue to abuse the staff and prove his ego repeatedly.

Out of sheer convenience, Ouken reached the end of his drink at the same time that he reached the end of his tolerance. He took hold of his glass, locked his eyes on his target, and lobbed it over the crowd at the unusually large man on the other side. The pub was big, but the feat wasn't difficult in the slightest. While staring at the table, Ouken reseated himself in the booth until he heard the sound of the glass shattering. When he looked up to witness the scene he had created, he was greeted with the penetrating gazes of everyone in the room. Most of the crowd was astonished, but Ouken could see the mixed feeling of fear and relief in the eyes of the staff. If there was nothing else to be proud about, it was the fact that he had relieved the staff of a rude customer.

The man, who now had a bead of blood dripping down his forehead, stood up. His size was admirable from afar, but as he walked through the crowd, who parted out of respect and eagerness to see what would happen, Ouken began to realize just how different they were. The man stood around nine feet in height, maybe slightly more, and it wasn't all in his legs. As far as weight was considered, this man probably had enough muscle in his arms to weigh more than Ouken did altogether. Those tree trunks for limbs could do serious damage if Ouken couldn't diffuse the situation.

"You fucked up," he said, his voice hanging almost as low as Ouken's jaw currently was.

The large man bent down only slightly in order to grab  Ouken by his scarf. Rather than bend down to talk to him, the man lifted Ouken up to his eye level. The only thing that was keeping the young man from being hanged on his own clothing was the hand he managed to slip in before being lifted off the ground. Pulling with this hand and the will to do so was the only thing keeping Ouken from sliding into the afterlife on the spot. He did his best to hide his fear as he stared at the adversary he had created, forcing a smile through the struggle to break as much tension as he could.

By this point in time, the crowd that had taken over the center of the pub had moved to close in around the two that looked like they were about to fight. Ouken couldn't blame them; he'd do the same thing if he weren't the one about to get put in the dirt.

"Kill 'em, Kirky!" could be heard shouted from somewhere within the mass of bodies. With that anonymous statement, a slow chant began to roll over them.

"Dunkirk! Dunkirk! Dunkirk!"

It slowly grew louder and louder as the large man continued to stare at Ouken. He didn't need eyes. This behemoth's shadow was enough to strike fear into the self-proclaimed pirate.

"Dunkirk! Dunkirk! Dunkirk!"

It wasn't long before the chant was a rumble. There was no way to diffuse the situation with a crowd that eager to see a fight. Ouken couldn't hear his own thoughts over the crowd, let alone stutter his way through a cohesive plea. He knew this, and because he knew this his fight or flight instincts kicked into overdrive.

Ouken's right hand kicked around his back grabbing the hilt of the rifle that was strapped to his back. He swung his arm back around, Rifle-chan rotating on the strap just fast enough to land a clean hit on the monster's jaw. It wasn't hard, though one could be almost certain that cannon fire might not take down the large man that was hunting Ouken.  However, the love tap to his chin was enough to momentarily spook him, forcing Dunkirk to release his grip on Ouken's scarf. As soon as he felt his toes hit the floor, he buckled his knees and dove deeper, aiming to squeeze between the legs of the crowd that had surrounded them.

Dunkirk couldn't reach him before he had squeezed into the crowd, but it didn't stop the mass from helping inflict as much damage as they could on the young man. They were tightly packed in together, so they couldn't put any power behind their kicks, but they kicked as hard as they could as Ouken crawled through them. He took a few good nicks and scrapes before he reached a window, which he quickly climbed through and ran off down the alley.

"KILL HIM!"

Ouken had already gotten a few buildings away from the pub when he heard the phrase shouted seemingly at Heaven itself. It was a simple phrase, but it shook him to the core and sent chills down his spine. The crowd he had left behind had shouted that man's name. Dunkirk. He was obviously well respected and in Mock Town, that only meant one thing - he was a man to be feared.

Ouken turned a corner, finding a few boxes stacked against the side of a building. He quickly climbed on top of them, jumping up to grab the ledge of the roof, and with a little bit of struggle, pulled himself up. He tiptoed to the ridge of the building and over the the end, laying down to get a good view of the situation he had put himself in. From where he had gotten himself on top of the building, he could see that people were still pouring out of the pub. Some were angry and could be seen drawing their guns as they rounded several corners, more than just likely looking for him. Ouken couldn't see Dunkirk from where he was, but that monster didn't seem like the type of guy that would let others fight his battles for him. He knew that Dunkirk would be coming to him personally. It was only a matter of time, so Ouken had to figure out how to get himself out of this mess.

He had been to Mock Town several times over the years and knew the layout pretty well, but he had never gotten the chance to look at it from where he was no. It was the perfect place to plan out his next move, but he wasn't given enough time to do as he pleased. The loud sound of guns being fired perk Ouken's ears up quickly and he spotted the bullets moving towards him. Releasing his grip on the ledge, he rolled down a small amount and pushed himself inward. Now his heart was truly racing. Earlier in the day Ouken knew that something would happen, but he never imagined that it would have been something so unfortunate.

Whirling himself around, Ouken pushed himself up and took off in the opposite direction of the gunfire. As he got closer to the far end of the building, he saw three men out of the corner of his eyes turn down the alley. Without pausing, he kept momentum and leaped to the next building over, reaching the opposite ledge before dropping down into the alley. He landed safely, but was quickly cut off from the street entrance by the same three men that he had avoided before. Instead of taking on the three of them, Ouken thought it a better idea to run the other way. The alley was thin, and littered with old crates and trash bags from the business that surrounded them, so it was easy for Ouken to outrun the three of them while pushing over anything he could as he passed, but this only dealt with the problem behind him.

Ouken was cut off at the other entrance by another couple of men. He reached his arm around his back, grabbing the rifle and unhooking it. The men closed in on Ouken, and spinning around to give himself an extra second as his foes stuttered, he outstretched his weapon and laid the butt of it across their temples aggressively. They collapsed like rag dolls and Ouken leaped over their fallen bodies and out onto the street.

The openness of the nighttime street seemed like a pleasant thing as Ouken's vision opened up to see the town once more, but he wasn't out for a split second before he was greeted with more gunfire from the direction of the pub. Leaping straight up in desperation to keep himself moving, the ground beneath his feet was exploded as the lead bullets impaled themselves into the earth. Touching down, Ouken took off again towards the other side of the street and straight into another alley. After that greeting, it was obvious to him that any open air was more dangerous than weaving through the back alleys like he had been.

Unfortunately for him, Ouken was followed down the alley by two more grunts. One of them managed to get in front of Ouken despite starting from a decent distance behind him. Ouken swung his rifle at the man in front of him, who managed to block it relatively easily and push him back towards the guy behind them both. Using his right foot to pivot once, he swung his rifle at the guy closing in on him from behind, landing a clean hit to the top of his forehead before he pivoted around again. As he pivoted the second time, Ouken pulled out Pistol-kun from its holster on his hip, raising it and firing off towards the first man's shoulder. He missed, intentionally, but the gunshot gave him a brief window to smack the man with the butt of his rifle and knock him out cold before being tackled from behind.

The man who tackled him didn't go down when Ouken hit him the first time, but he didn't seem strong regardless. They wrestled around for a minute before Ouken was able to free one of his arms and karate chop the guy in his throat. He rolled off, clutching his throat trying to regain control of his breathing and allowing Ouken to stand up. Before Ouken could take his first step towards the back of the alley, the side of the building next to him exploded sending him flying into the wall on the other side.

"RAAAGHH!"

The angry shriek was more than obviously from Dunkirk, who was now emerging from the hole that he had created barreling his way through the building. Ouken was hurt, but he picked himself up as fast as he could, ducking under an incoming hand as he threw himself out into the street. Being thrown against the wall like that was minimal bruising at best, but by leaping into the street, Ouken put himself in an even worse position. As he scrambled into the road, he took a quick kick to the rib cage as he was surrounded by five on Dunkirk's gang. The kick winded him, but otherwise didn't do much damage.

The worst part of what had just occurred was that now Ouken was surrounded by five more, violent men and the approaching beast that he had caused to rampage. He prided himself on his intellect and his ability to use his eyes, but neither of those could help him in a flat out brawl against this many people and a monster.

He was a dead man.

Thinking quickly, Ouken grabbed two pouches from his belt. As quick as he could muster, Ouken lobbed the two pouches towards Dunkirk, firing the rifle at them in mid-air, and moving towards the other end of the circle that was surrounding him. The lead bullet he fired collided with the pouches that were filled with percussion caps and black powder respectively, exploding in a cloud of smoke that was more meant as a distraction than it was to harm anyone. Using the bright flash as an opening, he kicked the nearest man as hard as he could in the gut, shoving him to the ground and putting him out of commission at least until he could catch his breath, freeing an opening for Ouken to escape yet again.

Luckily, the nearest alley was right in front of him as he exited the encircling and he was able to quickly dash down it, over to the next street before making a quick left turn. He wasn't greeted with the same gunfire he had been previously, but was given enough time to make his way back down into another alley. His intention was to make a small loop to lose any of the guys that may have come from the direction of his makeshift fireworks, but he used the time it was giving him to make his way down the back side of the buildings.

Ouken managed to put some distance between him and the last time he saw Dunkirk, but it was only a temporary solution to a problem that was much bigger. Taking the moment as a gift, he reloaded both of his weapons and took note of the ammunition he had left. However, as was proven when he was ambushed by three more men, obviously more of Dunkirk's crew, the bigger problem was that he was probably never going to be able to outrun Dunkirk's goons without going invisible or disappearing from the island altogether.

The three guys that ambushed Ouken were decently stronger than the others that he had been knocking out casually during his sprint to live; and faster too. Two of them caught up to him from the back, shoving him against the side of a building and smacking him around. The hits weren't very strong, but slaps to the face are something a person can only handle for so long. They were relatively focused on hitting his face, so it was pretty easy for Ouken to draw his pistol with a little bit of sleight of hand and fire it at their feet. It gave him the moment he needed, taking it to knee one of them in the groin. As a man, he knew the guy wasn't getting up for awhile and empathized with the pain he was feeling, but survival was more important than a pirate's family jewels at the moment.

The other man jumped back into line with another friend of their's. The friend was slightly larger, but was predictably slower. The easy target, some would say, and in this occasion Ouken was one of that some. That plan was simple: He planned to go for the big guy's temple and then just throw his entire body into the smaller guy. He was bigger, so he figured he'd win if he could get close enough to the small guy to pull it off. What ended up happening though is that when Ouken flung his arm out, pistol in hand, to love tap it against the bigger guy's temple, the smaller guy karate kicked him in the chest and shoved him into a wall.

Ouken was focused on his game plan, but from out of his peripheral vision he saw the kick coming. He subconsciously tensed his muscles and braced for the kick, so physically it only slightly winded him again. While the kick wasn't big, the hit to his pride was. He ran straight into a type of kick that is ridiculously telegraphed despite fancying himself an intellectual. He was thoroughly embarrassed, and took a minute to cup his forehead in his hands as the two men looked on and braced themselves for a continued fight. Instead, Ouken coughed and pulled the rifle off his back to take aim at the men who just decided to wait for him to stand up. They chose the living road, a decision that Ouken respected, and wheeled around on their heels to take off running in the opposite direction.

Flipping himself over, Ouken darted down the path he had originally intended as fast as he could. He shot his pistol and knew that people would be close behind the noise even if he had sent two safely off the other direction. Taking the next right into another alley, he spotted an open window into one of the businesses and without a second thought leaped to it and pulled himself inside. Hearing footsteps and shouting he ducked as low as he could under the windowsill, avoiding being caught by his pursuers at least for the moment. The window being open was a safe haven, making a clutch hiding spot in an otherwise maze of death.

Unfortunately, while the building made a great hiding spot for Ouken at the moment, the window was open because the place looked like it had been ransacked by someone already. It seemed to have been a weapons shop, but most of the weapons were gone with the exception of a few older models of pistols and smaller handheld weapons. Ouken had been on the thieving end of this type of relationship before though and knew that most times the vandals and thieves would end up leaving behind ammunition in their rush to take out the more expensive items. So while he caught his breath just in case he'd have to keep running, he made his way as quietly as he could over to the cupboards behind the counter to see what he could find.

Angry shouting from men outside, including the sound of Dunkirk's own voice from time to time sent shivers down Ouken's spine just as much as the creaks that would come from the wooden floor would as he pulled himself across the shop. But it was all worth it in the end, as he managed to find just what he had expected to. Lead bullets, flints, percussion caps, black powder, and a bunch of other smaller materials that would more than be helpful to anyone that actually wanted to use their weapons were in no short supply. After using some of his on-hand stock of black powder and percussion caps for his ingenious escape plan earlier in the night, he took just enough of them to replace what he had used... and a little extra because it might come in handy. But Ouken thought that some of this stuff could make for an incredible surprise for the monster that wanted him dead, and chose to take a few extra things to give him as a gift.

Scavenging the rest of the shop, he managed to round up a few smaller crates and fabrics to put his surprises in and tie up to create a makeshift backpack. After finding this place and what it held within, Ouken's adrenaline was now pumping more than it had been all night. Feeling ready to go, he sat next to the door, breathing slowly so he wouldn't cloud his ears with the sound of his own breath. As soon as the coast was clear, he crept back over to the window he came in and slid out, using the now empty alleyway to escape. The shouting was calming down, but Ouken made it a point to stop moving and brace himself against the walls closest to him whenever he heard something, doing his best to keep himself safe.

The process was repetitive and stressful. Ouken could feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest, but it was all worth it when he found what he was looking for. Grabbing onto the windowsill, Ouken propped himself up just enough to peek inside the window. After all his running, he only took enough turns to get him back to where he started - the pub. Right now, luckily enough, the place was empty with the exception of the staff and a few oddball customers. The party was over, and he could only imagine that most of them were out hunting for his head, but the thought didn't matter anymore. He knew this, as he tiptoed to the corner of the building. Jumping over the side rail and into the door when the moment came, he made it inside without being seen, but the greeting wasn't as friendly as he expected it to be without any of the enemies he had made.

Most of the customers didn't acknowledge Ouken's presence. As drunk as some of them were, they weren't going to notice anyway and probably weren't even aware of the night's happenings regardless. The staff, however, gave Ouken a look of worry. He knew that coming back to the pub wasn't a safe idea for the business or the people he had originally stood up to defend, but it seemed like the right place to end things with Dunkirk. Nowhere else would do the occasion justice.

"Sir, please leave," was all one of the younger waitresses could force out. With a glance in her direction, Ouken could see that she didn't want to get close to him, instead choosing to stay safely behind the counter. Respecting her decision, he ignored her.

"Get me a whiskey."

The bartender listened to this request, but left it on the counter for him to retrieve. Taking his time, Ouken walked to the bar, retrieved his drink, and sat back in the booth he had been napping in before the evening's troubles began. He sat there sipping his drink, letting the tension between him and the staff build up gradually. He knew that coming back to the pub was probably the stupidest idea he could have come up with, but it looked like the high risk he took in coming back was paying off, netting him some down time to rest up more and ice the wounds on his face with his drink. Getting slapped around in the alley did a number on him, but the guys didn't hit hard enough to do more than leave a few bruises and cuts. Part of the perks of having trained hard since he was little was the durability to keep on trucking.

As if icing the wounds was a message to the heavens, a man walked through the entrance to the pub and locked eyes with Ouken, stopping in his tracks. It was the smaller man that he had aimed the rifle at and the same one that kicked him in the chest. They both had their moments, but it didn't stop the man from wheeling around on his heel and marching right back through the door he came in. As one of Dunkirk's goons, the only place he'd be heading is to let the big boss know what he'd seen. It's not unlikely that they'd bring a few friends to make sure that Ouken couldn't escape a second time in the same evening.

The waitresses and bartenders saw the tiny event unfold. The tension in the building multiplied and the fear on their faces grew with it. Ouken sighed and finished his drink before standing up. The man only just left, so he took his time checking to make sure that that straps to his crates were tight and his guns were loaded. He strolled over the bar and leaned against it casually to face the doors.

It was cool. All the coolest scenes happen like this.

It wasn't long after Ouken got positioned that Dunkirk walked through the door. His size was still frightening as he bent over, almost crouching, to get into the pub. He was followed by a dozen men, some of them looked almost recognizable, but mostly because they looked sore with bruises on their heads. Outside the building, heavy footsteps and the occasional clang of metal on metal could be heard. It took Ouken everything he had to keep the chuckled down, but he couldn't help but find it funny that his desperation for survival lead to less than a dent in the amount of goons that Dunkirk had at his disposal.

"Ready to die, little man?" Dunkirk's voice had a low tone that almost seemed too low for his body type, even in spite of the fact that he was such a large man. It was deep and loud, making Ouken feel like he could feel it in his chest. He couldn't tell whether it was Dunkirk's tone or his heart, but his rib cage was vibrating to something.

Dunkirk walked over to Ouken, the rest of the guys he brought with him defaulting to stay behind and not get in the big boss' way. The man's approach was a lot less aggressive than busting through the side of a building, but the chill factor was increased. He had an angry scowl on his face as he stopped in front of Ouken, using his size to send fear into his target yet a gain before opening his mouth.

"Do you realize now who you pissed off?"

"An asshole that abuses the people waiting on him."

Everyone in the pub was collectively taken aback. The staff took their moment to shrink mostly below sight behind the bar counter, a few of them alternatively taking the chance to peek over and continue watching. Dunkirk's own men shifted their posture, visibly uncomfortable with the disrespect that had been shown to their captain to his face. The biggest fault in emotion the answer had caused was the slight fraying in Dunkirk's face before resuming his signature scowl. It was only for a split second, but Ouken saw it, and knew that his words could get to the beast just as well as his actions.

Dunkirk casually reached for Ouken. His target was cornered and death was imminent, but Ouken didn't have the same sentiment. Pivoting on his right foot, he turned his back to Dunkirk to show off the crates that he had strapped to his back. The massive hand that was reaching for him stopped, and retracted.

"What's that?" It was all Dunkirk could ask. He seemed like a man of few words though, so Ouken couldn't blame him. He'd spent the night running from the range of his violence anyway.

The only answer Dunkirk received, however, was in the form a the scratch of a lighter and Ouken's hand reaching around his back, holding the flame close to a small piece of string.

One of the waitresses peaking over the counter screamed. All of Dunkirk's men in the building took a step back. Dunkirk himself took his own step back. A lighter to a fuse meant one thing: a bomb. At that range, the two small crates that Ouken had in his possession could for sure kill Dunkirk and a portion of the staff at bare minimum. Unless Dunkirk could outrun an explosion, he would die for sure. No one expected that kind of tactic, but all of them knew that their lives were on the line and the tension in the room was multiplying.

Multiplying until Dunkirk let out a deep bellied laugh. The behemoth of a man, who had ownership of a grand scowl, let out a full laugh that broke the tension in the room and lit it up with confusion. Ouken had been prepared for a beating regardless, or at least his aggressor running from it, but he was just as confused as everyone else at the moment.

"Threatening to blow yourself  up? How little dignity do you possess," Dunkirk asked through the laughter. His crew sneered at the words, slightly embarrassing Ouken, but he held firm.

"Taking you down with me will be the source of my pride."

Dunkirk laughed again. He was a big man with a big name. No one tried to fight him, no one tried to stand up to him, and more than anything, no one tried to threaten him. Ouken was the first one to do any of them and he couldn't help but find it funny.

"I'm gearing up for the New World, little man," he spoke. "I never imagined my first run in with death would be to some average Joe on Jaya!" His explanation caused him to laugh again. "I thank you!"

"I want to live."

"You started a fight with me, you roughed up my crew, and have wasted my time. You're on my shit list. You won't be living."

Ouken closed his eyes. His heart was racing and he needed to calm himself down. Dunkirk's voice was adamant. Ouken was looking into the face of death and at this point, there was no way to get out. The monster was in front of him, the building was surround, and his threat didn't wo-

"But," Dunkirk began. "I'm on my way to New World and have a schedule to keep. I will kill you, but I will do it next time I find you. You survive one more night."

Ouken's heart was about to burst. The amount of fear that welled up within since the start of the night, the adrenaline that was rushing through his bloodstream, and the amount of times he'd had to fight his way out of a sticky situation were baring fruit. He could barely contain his excitement, replying to Dunkirk with no more than a nod.

"My crew and I will be gone by sunrise. Next time I find you, fight me like a real man. Pussy."

Dunkirk didn't look as remorseful of the decision as most would have had they caved to being threatened. He had a slight smirk on his face as he flipped off Ouken and turned to leave, like the excitement from his run in with death almost made him happy. His crew didn't have the same looking, casting scowls towards the man they saw as simply a coward before they followed their captain out of the pub.

The staff that had been hiding behind the counter stood up, sighing in relief that the situation had been diffused. Ouken followed suit, letting out a deep inhale as he laid his head down on the counter.

"I survived."

It was all he could think.

"I survived..."

"I survived!"

"Get me a whiskey," he shouted at the staff, but the bartender held up a hand.

"You need to pay your tab and leave. You've caused enough trouble."

Ouken pulled the crates off his back and set them on the counter. He put his hand on top, and gave the bartender and waitresses a glance before prying one of them open.

"I'll pay more if you let me drink."

The crate was filled with lead bullets. The ammunition wasn't currency and it wasn't useful to the pub as it was, but the two crates full of it would fetch a fair price to the pirates that frequented the place. They could sell it for what Ouken owed and make a large sum on the top of it for all their troubles. But the idea of money was the last thing that was on their minds, as everyone looking into the crate stared with wide eyes at the bluff that had saved his life.

Ouken survived through deceit, managed to pay off his tab with the truth of the deceit, and lived another day to search for a crew... A task that would be just as hard, if not harder.