One Piece: As Heavy as a Gale #138

Gale stared down at the tied-up pirate captain, and his eye twitched so hard it felt like it might pop out of his skull.

The man was looking at him with puppy eyes. Not figuratively. Literally. His face had morphed into the head of a tiny chihuahua, complete with floppy ears, wet nose, and huge watery eyes sparkling like he’d just been kicked out of a soap opera.

And the worst part? Somehow it was both literal and metaphorical.

“Grrrrrr…” the pirate captain whimpered. “Won’t you let me go, mister ma—”

“CUT IT OUT!” Gale barked, shoving his knuckles straight down onto the top of the man’s skull. “You’re giving me chills, you creep!”

The pirate captain let out a pained yelp, his skull bouncing off the dirt floor, before poofing back into his human form. The transformation wasn’t exactly an upgrade. His canine features melted away to reveal a face only a mother could love.

And even then, Gale wasn’t sure this guy’s mom hadn’t faked her death just to avoid looking at him.

“Ugh,” Gale muttered, shaking out his hand. “Honestly? This was… anticlimactic.”

He turned to the elder, who was watching with the same expression people reserved for paint drying. Gale sighed.

The fight—if it could even be called that—was short. Sure, Chihuahua Chump (whose real name was apparently Muttface Morgan) wasn’t a pushover. He had a bounty of 175 million, which, in Gale’s book, officially qualified someone as “problematic.”

But even then, it didn’t take much. A few exchanges, a haki-coated punch to the jaw, and Morgan was flat on his back counting stars like he was auditioning for a planetarium show.

“Honestly, if I hadn’t awakened armament haki, that might’ve been a challenge,” Gale muttered under his breath, flexing his still-bruised knuckles. “Might’ve.”

The crew, though? If Morgan was a mutt, they were fleas. Grunts, every last one. And the Stormhowl warriors dealt with them in about the same time it took Gale to blink.

He half-expected the tribe to start charging admission for this beatdown, given how quickly it turned into entertainment for the villagers.

Now all that remained was the awkward aftermath: Gale standing over a drooling, half-conscious pirate with rope burns, trying to figure out how his life led him to punching a chihuahua-man in the face.

Gale rubbed his temples, feeling the last few ounces of his patience melting like ice in the sun. His fingers pressed deep into the sides of his head as he stared down at the bound pirates twitching on the ground like overfed worms.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “I’m seriously wondering how the Redfang tribe fell to these losers...”

The elder, standing a few feet behind him, stroked his chin thoughtfully. “The Redfang are strong,” he said. “Equal to us, perhaps even stronger in some ways.”

He let out a quiet sigh before continuing. “But they are restless. Always have been. Their young are wanderers. Many leave the island to see the world, chase glory, freedom, fame... whatever nonsense calls to their blood.”

Gale arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

From the side, Risa snorted. “Tch. If Doma and the others were here, they’d have sunk these damned pirates before they even thought about attacking our village.”

That made Gale freeze.

He turned to Risa slowly, a dull, grinding sound almost audible in his brain as a piece of the puzzle jammed itself violently into place. “Wait—Doma?” he asked, his voice flat. “As in... Bohemian Knight Doma?”

Risa nodded, arms crossed, clearly still pissed off at the pirate crew even though they were tied up and groaning like bruised vegetables. “That’s right.”

She gestured vaguely toward the horizon. “Unfortunately, that idiot came back about a week ago, took every capable fighter in the village—including some of our best trackers—and then left again. No idea why, and no one bothered asking.”

Gale’s eyelid twitched. Hard.

He could feel the cosmic joke unfolding like a badly written prophecy. So his “target”—the whole reason he was here—had already left the island before he even got here.

And Vergo?

Vergo must have known.

Of course he knew. Gale wouldn’t put it past the bamboo-loving bastard to have personally waved goodbye to Doma at the docks before shipping Gale off to Risky Red with bogus intel and a smug smile.

'Just send the rookie off to chase ghosts,' Gale thought bitterly. 'Keep him far away while you clean house back at G-5. Neat. Simple. Ruthless.'

Gale’s jaw tensed. He’d already come up with a plan to survive Vergo, or at least survive long enough to make a plan. But there was one problem with that plan...

He glanced sideways at Risa.

She stood stiffly, glaring daggers at the pirates like she was trying to melt them with sheer spite. Her arms were still crossed. Her mouth twisted into a scowl. If she could’ve tied the entire crew to a rocket and shot them into the sun, she probably would’ve done it by now.

Gale sighed under his breath.

'Yeah… this is gonna be a problem.'

Still, Gale had to go through with the plan—even if Risa was going to blow a gasket when she found out. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about that part, but hey, better her angry than Vergo’s bamboo through his skull.

Priorities.

He strolled over to the mutt-faced captain, who was still blissfully unconscious and drooling like a busted faucet.

Gale stomped down on his foot.

Hard.

The pirate captain yelped awake instantly, eyes snapping open and bugging out like a cartoon dog’s.

“There we go,” Gale muttered, crouching down in front of him. He grabbed a fistful of scruffy, rapidly-thinning hair and yanked his head up so their eyes met. “Rise and shine, Fido.”

The man whimpered, trying to look anywhere but Gale, but Gale gave his head a little shake. “Oi. Eyes on me. You came here for this, right?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bamboo tube. The faintest glint of the rolled-up map peeked through the edge.

The captain’s eyes widened.

Busted.

Gale smirked. “That’s what I thought.” He tucked the map away again, slow and deliberate. “Too bad. It’s mine now. So’s the eternal pose.”

The captain made a noise halfway between a whine and a growl, but Gale talked over him.

“Not that it matters. That should be the last of your concerns.” Gale’s voice dropped, colder now, as he jerked his chin toward the villagers gathered nearby.

Men, women, even kids—all of them glaring at the tied-up pirate crew like they were already picturing how best to slice them into jerky.

“If I were you? I’d be a lot more worried about them. Pretty sure they’d love to see you and your boys torn to shreds.”

The captain swallowed. His voice cracked. “T-that’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” Gale shrugged, expression casual. “But the best you can hope for right now is a cell in Impel Down. Unless…”

He leaned in closer, smile sharp. “You do exactly as I say.”

The pirate captain blinked at him suspiciously. “...What do you want?”

Before Gale could answer, Risa’s voice cut in like a blade.

“And what exactly is this supposed to be?” she snapped, stomping forward with her hands balled into fists.

‘Here it comes,’ Gale thought with an inward groan. He didn’t even bother bracing—he’d seen that glare enough to know resistance was pointless.

Still, he played it off with his usual grin. “Relax. Nothing shady. It’s simple, really.” He gestured loosely with one hand. “We’ve already got the map. Got the eternal pose too. The only thing stopping us now is me being a Marine. This venture's gonna take time, and I gotta report back eventually, you know?”

He pointed at the captain, who squirmed under the sudden spotlight.

“Well… unless I just so happen to get killed by some pirate. Real tragic. A hero cut down before his time, chasing glory and treasure. You get the picture.”

The captain blinked, looking as if his brain had just short-circuited.

Meanwhile, Risa’s glare sharpened so hard Gale swore he could feel it stab into his ribs like a fork.

“So what?” she snapped, her voice cutting like a whip. “He’ll help you fake your death, and then you’ll let him go? Just like that?!”

Gale scratched the back of his head with all the sheepishness of a guy who just admitted to stealing snacks before dinner. “Yeah… that’s kind of the plan.”

He let out a sigh, shoulders sagging. “Look, I get it. You might want to gut these guys for what they did. And I don’t blame you. But if we’re gonna get to the treasure, this is the only way.” He waved a hand, casual. “If you can let it go, I’ll even bump your cut up by five percent.”

He paused there, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her face. He braced for the outburst—the yelling, the stomping, the possible forehead-to-his-nose violence.

Instead, Risa’s lips stretched into a grin so wide it looked like she’d stolen it from a cartoon villain.

“Done,” she said without hesitation.

Gale stared at her. Blinked once. Slowly. Painfully slowly. Like his brain was buffering.

“…What?” he muttered. “Just like that?”

Risa only nodded, her grin still sharp enough to slice through a steel hull.

Gale rubbed his eyes, half-wondering if the fight with the elder’s son had rattled his brain harder than he thought. Still squinting at her, he muttered, “What about your sister? I thought they—”

That was as far as he got before Risa cut him off, deadpan and unflinchingly confident.

“I don’t have a sister,” she said flatly. “I made that up to get you to let me down from the tree.”

Silence.

Gale just stared at her, his expression flickering like a lantern in a storm—confusion, disbelief, mild betrayal, back to disbelief again, and then…

He cracked.

He doubled over, letting out a laugh so loud and unhinged it startled a couple of nearby villagers. It wasn’t just a chuckle—it was the kind of full-bodied, tears-in-your-eyes laugh you’d give when someone told you the world’s dumbest, funniest joke at the worst possible time.

Risa blinked at him, taken aback. She half-expected him to clout her on the head, or worse, string her upside down from a tree again for lying. Instead, she got… this.

“You’re not mad…?” she asked cautiously, edging back like she wasn’t sure if he was laughing with her or just losing his mind entirely.

Gale shook his head, his laughter finally tapering off. “No… maybe a little.” He smiled faintly, the sharp edge of his grin softening for once. “But I know what it’s like to lose someone. I’m just glad you didn’t go through that.”

His smirk crooked wider, the faintest glimmer of warmth behind it. “Besides… it was kinda funny.”

Risa opened her mouth, ready to fire back with some snark, but nothing came out. Her lips just moved uselessly before shutting again. For once, she was genuinely speechless.

This scrawny, petty, conniving little devil of a Marine officer… actually had a decent side. A tiny one, buried somewhere deep inside the layers of sarcasm and assholery—but it was there.

She quickly shook herself out of it before he noticed her staring too long. “So… does that mean I get to keep the five percent cut raise?”

Gale’s face deadpanned instantly. He scoffed and flicked a hand at her. “Don’t push your luck.”

Risa puffed out her cheeks in a pout, then huffed and turned toward the pirate captain still bound on the ground. “Anyway,” she said, “it’s a good plan, but there's one glaring flaw. What’s to stop him from spilling the beans once he’s out of reach?”

“Ha.” Gale pivoted to face the mutt-faced captain, his grin creeping back in place like a wolf’s. “As stupid as this guy looks… he’s probably thinking about it right now.”

The captain froze, sweat beading down his forehead like he’d just been caught stealing cookies.

Gale shrugged, lazy and dismissive. “That’s just because he doesn’t realize what being the man who ‘killed’ Harlow Gale actually means.”

Even Risa blinked at him, brows furrowed. “...And what does it mean, exactly?”

Gale puffed his chest out, his grin now a perfect blend of arrogance and salesmanship. “You’re looking at an up-and-coming Marine hero. Haven’t been in service long, but in that short time? Made headlines more than enough to get my name out there.”

Risa gave him a side-eye, clearly unconvinced but letting him roll with it.

Gale crouched back down, locking eyes with the pirate captain.

“So here’s the deal. Being the pirate who killed me? That’ll earn you respect. Pirates will flock to your crew, merchants will surrender their cargo the moment they see your flag, and the bounty on your head…”

Gale grinned sharp as a blade. “…let’s just say it’ll make 175 million look like chump change.”

The captain blinked. Slowly.

You could almost hear the rusty gears grinding away inside his skull as the idea struggled to lodge itself in place.