The Marine

Sitting at breakfast, Bill ate with a shiner on his left eye and a bruise mark running across the bridge his nose.

It was the first time he had gotten a black eye and bruised face in almost ninety years. In his past life, even when he got in to fights as a teenager, he had been good enough to not get beaten up, or smart enough to not get in a situation he couldn’t get out of.

But now, it had been six months since he had gotten a martial art instructor and he was beaten literally black and blue.

The Art of 9 Limbs was at its core a martial art developed for single combat. The nine limbs were two hands, two feet, two elbows, two knees, and the head.

Using jabs and kicks at a distance, then quick combinations of punches, elbows, and headbutts when in close contact, the Art of 9 Limbs was developed to be dirty, unfair, and devastating regardless of what weapon the opponent had.

In a world where firearms were not superior to the human body, this technique was especially designed against swordsmen and fruit users.

After all, the art stressed that the fight should be ended with the first hit. In a combination set, the first hit may not knock the opponent unconscious, but it would make it impossible for the opponent to defend against the subsequent blows.

With kicks and jab flurries would wreck another fighter’s form from a distance. When the fight got up close it almost always ended with an elbow to the side of the head, or a headbutt to the jaw.

As combination sets were so important to the Art of 9 Limbs, it made the primary training method use about thirty percent practicing strikes and stance with seventy percent sparring.

After all, as Teacher Sagatto had said: “Everyone always has a plan, then they get punched in the face.”

Sagatto had also not been overly impressed by Bills mastery of Life Return. Or perhaps he was, but in order to compensate for the fact that Bill could supernaturally control his body, which included his natural healing ability, he made sparring matches much harder.

It only took Bill about a week to master the arts basic form and stances, the rest mainly came from the spars.

As for his parents and nanny, they never said anything. Bill was sure that the first time he had his nose busted by a nasty headbutt there would be hell to pay, but no one said anything; and neither did he.

Today was one of his rest days, since even with the ability to direct nutrients precisely around his body, his mind wasn’t a machine. Thus, his current routine was to be pressed hard for three days then have one day for himself.

As for his friends, they had been doing much the same over the last six months as they had been before. Ricky and Sasha both practiced swinging their swords, while Ranse and Fia both did various jobs as Chore Boys.

Of course, it wasn’t the case that Ranse and Fia worked all the time. In fact, they seemed to have less hectic schedules than the other three. According to Ranse, this was going to change when they hit thirteen because all Chore Boys were required to learn a skill whether or not they wanted to be Special Operators.

This was due to the fact that not just anyone could be in the primary combat unit of the Marines, but at the same time, there was always a job for someone.

Even if the only thing a Marine recruit could do was scrub the poop deck, there was a job for it.

Until then though, Ranse had taken back up his role as a Junior Lawman and patrolled around town – often with Fia tagging along.

Finishing his mountain of food, Bill put up his plate then looked at his mom and nanny and said: “Alright, I’m going outside!”

Turning to look at him, Ms. Angie said: “Where will you be going?”

Then with a casual reply he said before leaving: “I’m just going to the lagoon.”

Walking out of his front door, Bill decided to take the long way down the base. By now he knew the mountain-sized fortress like the back of his hand. Still, he loved the views, and today it felt right to just take his time.

Taking his time walking, he would be frequently called out to by Marines who were on duty.

This was especially true for those carpenters, sail makers, machinists, and boatswain that held permanent base residence.

Seeing these people one by one, Bill couldn’t help but think of the young Marine he had met years ago. Oliver Barba was the first person in this world to explain the idea of pirates and the World Government.

Last that he heard, Oliver had been stationed at Base SB-G, near the resort city of Gran Tesoro.

Thinking this as he walked down to the next level, Bill spontaneously decided to poke around the MCT Building. 

Today was his free day, and even though he wasn’t allowed to learn any of the Six Powers, saying hi to Captain Trapano was always fun.

Walking around a corner, Bill saw a familiar figure. A dark-haired freckled boy with a sandy brown headed tan girl a couple steps behind.

Ranse: “BILL!”

No sooner than Bill saw the two did they see him. Running with a serious look on his face Ranse spoke first: “We were just going to come looking for you, we have another case.”

Looking back at the two, Bill hadn’t expected anymore cases. In fact, he had thought that the ‘Fruit Ninja’ case was the only real one Ranse had ever worked on and that one could have gotten him accidentally blown to smithereens.

But still, having known Ranse for so long Bill didn’t just dismiss him and replied: “A criminal case? Well, what happened?”

Seeing Bill open to the idea, Ranse motioned Fia to come closer as a form of backup.

Ranse: “Ok, so, you know even though I live on base I go home a lot?”

Seeing Bill nod his head Ranse continued: “Well ok, so because Fia is learning to cook and all, she’s been coming with me home and helping my mom with dinner.”

“Alright.” Bill said, acknowledging that he was following along.

Ranse: “Ok, so, as we were going home yesterday, Fia was hit by a lumber cart!”

Raising an eyebrow to this, Bill got more serious. Because, sure, Fia was essentially made of bronze and wouldn’t be hurt by getting hit by a cart. For other people though, getting hit by a cart ferrying lumber was incredibly dangerous.

If the rules of the road weren’t being followed, then that was something that needed to be dealt with.

Bill: “Wait, was it the cart driver’s fault?”

Shaking his head to this Ranse replied: “No, Fia just wasn’t watching where she was going.”

Stumped by this for a second, before Bill said anything Fia yelled out: “RANSE! YOU TOLD ME TO WALK WITH MY EYES CLOSED!”

Then at a lower voice she continued: “You said that how they trained you to sense your surroundings… and you didn’t even know that cart was coming, either!”

Looking panicked for a second, looking at Bill, then at Fia, then at Bill again, Ranse said: “That IS how we train our observation skills!

But that’s not even the point!

Look, after the cart hit Fia the driver flew off and dropped a bunch of papers.”

Interjecting Bill said: “And the driver was fine?”

Looking exasperated by now, Ranse said with more than composure: “Yes, he was fine. That isn’t the point. Just listen.

After the papers went flying everywhere Fia and I helped the man collect his documents. One of those documents was clearly a receipt for cut boards.”

Bill: “Ok.”

Continuing on, Ranse said: “The receipt was in a ripped envelope labeled ‘confidential’, it was a sale to some dockyard I’ve never heard of, for ten stacks of Red Elm.”

Nodding his head, Bill answered: “And Red Elm does grow on islands around Vallipo.”

Shaking his head, Ranse replied: “Yeah, I know, but I’ve never seen this lumber yard have anything other than Super Rainbow trees. In all my years as a lawman, if they had suddenly had stacks of Red Elm, I would have taken notice.”

“Hmm...” Bill said, thinking to himself and then asking: “So you think this mill is selling Rainbow lumber to someone?”

If this was true, it would be a big deal. The Marines directly controlled only a few logging areas around the world. Vallipo Archipelago was one of the best.

Super Rainbow gum trees only grew here, and while they weren’t in the absolute top tier of ship-building lumber, they were good enough to be used in the construction of most ships.

This made them a protected resource. The Marines would give out contracts to merchants for the processed lumber, in turn, those merchants would get paid for the work and have access to other resources on the Archipelago.

These contracts were seen as mutually beneficial. Since the Marines didn’t have the manpower to harvest and treat hundreds of giant trees per year, and the merchant’s got money and access to new markets through the other products made on Vallipo.

Shaking his head, Ranse replied: “I don’t know anything yet, but something is suspicious.

So, we were going to come look for you, we want to have a look around. If there aren’t any stacks of Red Elm, then we definitely have a case.”

Seeing as he had the day to himself, Bill looked at the two and said nonchalantly: “Well, alright, let’s go.”

With that the trio walked into town, Ranse spoke about the case some more and Fia spoke about being a future cook. All in all, Bill supposed if nothing else then it was nice just to hang out.

In this way, it didn’t take long until they reached the mill in question. Looking up at a sign, which read ‘Mulino’s Rainbow Mill’, Bill said to the others: “Alright, here we are. Let’s stay together and walk around the fence. Hopefully we’ll see some Red Elm stacks.”

As she eyed around the building Fia looked to Bill and asked: “And if we don’t?”

Excitedly Ranse responded before Bill: “Then we’ll just have to take a closer look!”

Shaking his head, Bill answered: “First we look around, if we don’t see anything then we’ll ask a random employee if they process Red Elm, depending on what we find we’ll decide our next action after that.”

Getting the nod from the two kids the trio began to walk around the fence.

These mills were massive due to the size of the trees they processed. Since all tree’s needed to be treated after being cut there had to be space for the stacks to dry properly.

The average Super Rainbow gum tree was one hundred meters tall, so there was naturally a lot of space to cover.

Walking around the perimeter of the mill, Bill failed to see anything besides the standard log the thing was named for. As the group neared back to where they started Ranse chimed in with a: “See, I told you!”

Nodding her head along, Fia claimed: “And I can go in and take a closer look, I’ll make sure nobody sees me.

Shaking his head to her suggestion, Bill restated that now they would talk to a mill worker and see if they could learn anything. By now he had grilled Ranse many times over, the boy was insistent that he read the ‘confidential’ invoice perfectly.

Walking through the front entrance, there was a small building off to the side which had a large open window with a man looking over some papers.

Getting to the counter before the man had looked up Bill rang the service bell.

*HUHAW*

Startled into making a noise Bill never heard before the man jumped a foot into the air before screeching in a nasally voice: “What’s the big idea!?” Then upon seeing the trio let out a huff before saying: “You kids! This aint a place to play around! You need to leave before I call your parents, or the sheriff!”

Hearing the man’s outburst, Fia stepped back while Ranse didn’t move, and Bill said emotionally: “I think we should call the sheriff, Mr., because yesterday my friend here was hit by a cart that came from this mill, and now, you’re yelling at us?! There should be some liability!”

Looking over the three, the nasally voiced man smirked before saying: “Well, you don’t look hurt.”

Bill: “My friend just got lucky, she’s only a girl, and now after you yelled at her I think you made it worse.”

Turning his head to Fia, she quickly covered her face with her hands and started crying softly, looking back to the man he said: “Now see what you did?!”

Put on his back foot by the crying kid, this worker clearly wasn’t the best. As such, his reaction fell into Bill’s lap: “Well, how do you even know the cart who hit your friend came from here then?”

Still looking emotional, Bill replied: “It was a cart that was hauling a load of Red Elm, the driver even said he came from ‘Mulino’s Rainbow Mill”.

Now with an eye roll the man replied dismissively: “Kid, just think of the name.” then with a wave of his hand he continued: “This is Mulino’s “RAINBOW” Mill. So how much sense does it make that the cart who hit your friend came from here, eh?”

Ranse: “You’re lying, it did come from here!”

As soon as Ranse said this, Fia started her fake crying once more.

Putting his hand on Ranse’s shoulder Bill asked: “So this mill doesn’t process Red Elm?”

Rolling his eyes yet again the nasally man said: “We can process anything, but ninety-nine of our sales are in rainbow tree. Trust me kid, that driver lied, and you’re a fool for not being able to connect names.”

As he was about to shout out again, Bill held Ranse back, said sorry to the man and left.

Not too far from the mills entrance Ranse spoke to Bill accusingly: “We’re just leaving? There’s a solid case here!”

Nodding along Fia put forward: “And I could just sneak in, no one would find me.”

Speaking to the two without stopping, Bill turned his head to the side before looking back straight and said: “I know, both of you, and I have a plan.”