No Regrets (Ch.1)

Is He Slow or Simply Stupid?
On one of the first islands of the Grand Line, a fairly average island divided into four towns separated by a lush forest covering most of the island, a young man stretched his arms to the sky as he walked out of his house, which was situated a couple of miles outside the largest town, grumbling to himself.

???: Aah, another boring day. I wish I could leave this stupid island once and for all.

Wiping his eyes to get rid of the sleep, he looked to the sky and noticed it was already past noon. Hearing his stomach growl, he turned around to go back inside.

???: I'll go out later, it won't rain again until tonight at the earliest anyway.



Dressed in casual dark pants and a plain white button up with the top buttons undone to alleviate the beating sun, exposing a toned chest despite his slim physique, he left to run errands after making himself something to eat. He was in need of more food, some building materials, and tools to fix up damage that had recently been done to his house. So, to that end, he headed to his favorite shop in town. The shop was run by a friendly older man who was quite burly with a large gut and a bushy beard, and sold practically everything... except food, building materials, and tools.

Shop Owner: Oh, hey Isaac. Whatcha lookin’ for?

Isaac: Got anything new, Mr. Glass?

Mr. Glass then pulled out a large sack from under the counter and poured the contents onto a tarp he'd placed down. Isaac looked through the contents and picked out a few maps and some books. He briefly picked up an ornate staff and a golden, decorative katana, but had no interest in either item and placed them back. After scanning over the items one last time, he looked back to Mr. Glass with hopeful, expectant eyes.

Isaac: Can I check out what's downstairs?

Mr. Glass: I've told you before, the downstairs showroom is only for adults.

Isaac: Ah, come on. I turn eighteen in a month. Besides, I've lived on my own now for four years.

Still getting an uncertain look from the shop owner, Isaac opted for a different approach: puppy dog eyes.

Isaac: Pweease.

Finally relenting, the shop owner grabbed a key and led the young man down a flight of stairs. Turning on a light, a hidden showroom became clear. This showroom was filled with things he could no longer sell upstairs for fear of confiscation and punishment- mostly weapons- and some miscellaneous items that he was unsure of what they did. Isaac looked around in wonder, stars in his eyes, at the myriad of swords, tonfa, and the assortment of other bladed and melee weaponry.

It had been almost a decade since he'd last seen real guns and swords up close without being threatened by someone using them. The house he lived in used to be filled with them thanks to his dad being a Marine and an avid weapons collector. Seeing how passionate his dad was made him want to learn about weapons too, but he never got as into it as his dad. Though, since he was a rather small and weak child, he did have quite the affinity for the claymore and its size and strength, his inanimate opposite.

All of the weapons, and the memories they held, were taken from him, though, when a group of pirates came and made the island their base. The first thing they did was make sure to get rid of anything that could aid a potential rebellion. For the other villager's safety, Isaac's dad held back initially and waited until an opportune time arose to defeat the pirate captain and retake the island.

Unfortunately for him, when that moment came, just as he was about to deal the finishing blow, an underhanded maneuver resulted in his death: he'd been shot in the back by a corrupt marine. In fact, it was his superior officer from the nearby Marine base. For that reason, the villagers were trapped in this situation and Isaac had trained in secret nearly every day for the past several years, on top of the training his dad put him through, in order to defeat that pirate and the head of the Marine base.

Isaac: How much for these, Mr. Glass?

He'd broken out of his reverie and settled on one sword in particular. It was a giant claymore, nearly as tall as he was. Aside from that, he was holding what looked like an ornamental glass ball and a collection of linked chains.

Mr. Glass: Hey put that down; you don't even know what those are.

Isaac: A sword, some chains, and a cool ball.

The owner sweat dropped at Isaac's simplicity, but decided to explain.

Mr. Glass: See that sword you're holding?

Isaac: Yea, it's a claymore, just like I like. Mr. Glass *dumbfounded*: No, I mean the design. The guard is sculpted like two bones and the pommel is shaped like a skull with ruby eyes.

Isaac: Hmm, I hadn't noticed; that is cool.

The shop owner fell to the floor in utter disbelief. Picking himself up, he explained it as clearly as he could.

Mr. Glass: There are rumors surrounding that sword that whoever wields it gains great power but does so at the risk of their soul. Everyone who's ever wielded it has met a gruesome end.

Isaac didn't pay any attention after 'power' and was instead busy examining the skull at the pommel. Not hearing the old man's voice in the background anymore, he lifted his head.

Isaac: So, it's magical? (he said with stars in his eyes)

Mr. Glass: No, you idiot. It's cursed.

The young man looked at him with a blank expression and spoke. Isaac: I don't believe in curses.

That was it, the last straw. The shop owner just held his head, shaking it as he muttered 'I knew you'd get yourself killed one day. You're suicidal just like your dad.' He did refocus on the other objects though.

Mr. Glass: Do you even know how to use those other items?

Isaac: It's a ball and some chains. What's to know?

Mr. Glass: *muttering* 'Idiot. Pure idiot.' Those chains are a pair of chain link gloves. You use these rings here to put them on your hands and put this part around your wrists. The rest goes up your arm and hooks up by your shoulder.

Isaac: Wow, this is coooool. So, what about this?

Mr. Glass: That... uh, I actually don't know what that is... But if you're interested in it, I'm sure it's no good.

Isaac didn't pay any mind to the subtle dig, if he even realized it was an insult.

Isaac: So... how much?

Mr. Glass: Half a million beli should cover it... plus my pain and suffering.

Mr. Glass was proud of himself for having figured out a way to keep the young man from leaving with such dangerous weapons. Everyone in town knew Isaac was often flat broke, and what little money he did get, he spent at Mr. Glass' store just as soon as he got it. So, his jaw understandably dropped when Isaac lifted up an overfilled, bulging backpack and placed it on the counter.

Isaac: Is this enough?

Mr. Glass: I- I- I…

The shop owner was at an understandable loss for words upon opening the backpack and seeing it filled to the brim with bills and gold coins. It took some time to count the bag's total contents, and Mr. Glass' jaw had dropped again as he finished counting out the last few bills.

Mr. Glass: 6- 600,000 beli. Where did you get this much money?

The young man had a gleam in his eye and a mischievous smirk as responded, but that was quickly replaced by the same dumb expression as before.

Isaac: Everyone in town knows better than to ask how I get my money... But, that's enough, right?

Mr. Glass was uneasy. He was right; there were some things they all knew it was better to just have plausible deniability on, especially concerning Isaac. That's the reason no one ever questioned him about his money, where he went on some days, or any noise that came from the direction of his house- up the hill past the town- at night; it was widely known Isaac wasn't as stupid as he pretended to be. But, there were some things he was entirely clueless about: money being one of those. He knew you needed money to buy stuff, but that was the end of it; he didn't know numbers for the world of him. So, Mr. Glass just went ahead and completed his business with no other excuse to keep Isaac from buying the goods he wanted.

Mr. Glass: Y- Yeah; this is just enough. You're lucky I'm a nice guy, now move along and take your stuff with you. But, be sure not to get caught you baka!

Isaac noticed the grin on the shop owner's face as he took the money, but ignored it. Instead, he gathered up the things he'd bought and wrapped them in a sheet before stuffing them, at least majority, in his backpack and turning to leave the store.

With a wave, he walked out of the store. He was going to head home, despite not getting anything he came to town for, to drop off the things he was carrying and then come back for the rest, mainly food; he was already hungry again and only had scraps left at the house to eat. Before he'd gotten far away from the shop, he heard some noise off near the center of town. It sounded like someone getting beat up.