"Another plate of meat."
Inside a tavern.
Zeke, dragging his near-dead body, grimaced in pain as he forced bite after bite of meat into his mouth.
Every swallow felt like razor blades scraping his throat.
This was the most luxurious and happiest meal he'd had in the entire half year since he crossed into this world.
Far better than the sour meat and rotten rice he scavenged from trash bins.
The thought of that pirate who nearly kicked him to death on the first day still filled Zeke's heart with murderous rage. If it weren't for that man, he wouldn't be in such a pitiful state.
At the very least, with a healthy body and intact limbs, he could've landed a simple job, something basic.
"Zehahaha—"
Beside him.
Blackbeard didn't interrupt Zeke's feast, merely sipped his rum slowly. Ever since they struck their deal, Zeke wasted no time demanding food—and even asked Blackbeard to get him a doctor. He didn't hold back at all.
It was clear.
Zeke was truly starving.
He had truly suffered.
He was genuinely ill—his survival up to this point was nothing short of a miracle.
Clack.
The tavern doors creaked open.
In walked a man draped in a heavy fur coat despite the sweltering heat, wearing a tall black hat and long flowing white curls. He looked like death warmed over, slumped atop a white horse whose mane hung over its eyes.
Scanning the room, the man made his way straight to Blackbeard and Zeke.
"Captain, what did you call me here for?"
Doc Q lay limply on Stronger's back, tongue weakly lolling out.
They were originally in Mock Town waiting for Lafitte. In the meantime, everyone did as they pleased. Just moments ago, Doc Q had been offering exploding apples to strangers when he got the captain's call—right after selling the first one.
"Zehahaha, Doc Q, let me introduce you—this is Zeke. From today on, he's one of us."
Blackbeard motioned for Doc Q to get off his horse and have a drink, gesturing at Zeke.
Doc Q finally noticed the man beside Blackbeard.
"A new crewmate?"
Doc Q weakly lifted his eyelids and looked at Zeke, stunned.
So weak.
He reeked.
Just a crippled beggar. Doc Q could immediately see the man was injured and terminally ill, pale as a ghost.
He looked like he could drop dead any moment.
His body was skin and bones, barely held together.
He probably didn't have long to live.
"Captain, you're kidding, right? This guy's in worse shape than me. He's practically already dead."
Doc Q was stunned.
He suspected Blackbeard's head had been knocked loose. Recruiting a dying man as a crewmate?
There was no value in it.
"I'm not joking. When Burgess and Van Augur return, I'll explain everything. I'm confident none of you will object to him joining."
Blackbeard grinned widely, his tone calm and confident. Then he turned to Zeke and continued.
"Zeke, this is our ship's doctor—Doc Q, nicknamed the Reaper. With him around, even the gravely ill can be healed."
Blackbeard had full confidence in Doc Q's abilities.
He wouldn't let Zeke die.
Even after a short time together, he could tell Zeke was no ordinary man. His manner, his confidence, his insight—none of it matched a typical beggar.
There had to be a tragic story behind him.
"Zeke, a pleasure!"
As Blackbeard made the introduction, Zeke swallowed his mouthful of meat and nodded at Doc Q without a trace of submission or flattery.
Right now, he was linked to Pluton.
In Blackbeard's eyes, his importance outweighed even Doc Q, Burgess, Lafitte, and Van Augur.
Even if he was frail, as long as his value was great enough, he could receive special treatment.
More importantly, Blackbeard's crew had only just been formed. Doc Q and the others had only recently joined. Their relationship was still more like collaborators than true followers.
Only after Blackbeard acquired the Tremor-Tremor Fruit during the war at Marineford—becoming the sole dual-fruit user—did they truly submit to him.
Besides—
When dealing with ruthless characters like these, one had to be tough. Only then would they look at you differently. Otherwise, you'd just be a target for humiliation or abuse.
Of course—
Toughness alone wasn't enough. You had to show your worth.
Since he was currently powerless, Zeke would first rely on his wits and knowledge of future events to gain recognition. Then, he'd bide his time—stay alive, grow stronger.
"!"
Doc Q lazily raised his eyelids and, after a glance into Zeke's eyes, smiled unexpectedly.
"I'll go along with the captain."
"Captain Teach, could you arrange a room so I can take a bath? And Doc Q, I'd be grateful if you could treat my injuries."
"I feel like I'm about to die."
Zeke's tone was calm.
As if he belonged.
From the moment he first spoke with Blackbeard until now, the man had never once shown disgust toward his stench or disheveled appearance.
He was even willing to gamble on what Zeke had said.
To be fair—
Blackbeard was a man of grand ambition. He never overlooked even the slightest opportunity.
"Zehahaha."
"No problem!"
"Doc Q, I'm counting on you. You must heal Zeke. He's crucial to our plan to take the world."
Blackbeard readily agreed and turned to Doc Q with unusual seriousness.
Soon after—
The three of them left the tavern and checked into a nearby inn. Zeke soaked himself in a comfortable bath, then began receiving treatment from Doc Q. His condition was far worse than most would imagine.
Fortunately, Doc Q had eaten the Sick-Sick Fruit, a Paramecia-type.
Combined with his medical expertise, he might just be able to pull Zeke back from death's door.
"How is he, Doc Q?"
After finishing the treatment, Doc Q stepped out of the room. In the lounge, Blackbeard was already there, and Burgess, the champion wrestler, and Van Augur, the silent sharpshooter, had just returned.
Both looked slightly confused.
"Terrible. That beggar's body is beyond saving. His organs are failing. At most, he has four or five years left. By all logic, he should've died already. The fact that he's still alive must be fate."
Doc Q shook his head.
The man's death was inevitable. If not for Doc Q's skill and devil fruit powers, he wouldn't have lasted another three days.
His organs weren't just failing—he had numerous illnesses. Doc Q had never seen anyone carry that many diseases at once.
Some of them were completely new to him.
Like a certain malignant tumor…
Doc Q thought the man was worth studying.
"Captain, now that Burgess and Augur are back, mind telling us why you brought a dying beggar into the crew?"
Doc Q flopped onto the couch, casting a sideways glance at Blackbeard.
Burgess and Van Augur, still standing by the room, turned their attention to their captain.
"Zeke is far from worthless. He can read the ancient script, and he knows the location of the Ancient Weapon—Pluton."
"In other words, he can help us find it."
Blackbeard's brow furrowed. Only four or five years left? That wasn't good. Could they even find Pluton in such a short time?
"What?"
"You're not joking, are you, Captain?"
Doc Q and Burgess both widened their eyes.
Van Augur, who had been quietly cleaning his beloved rifle "Senriku," paused mid-action. All three felt their hearts stir.
An Ancient Weapon?
A force of destruction capable of leveling the world.