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Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: The Radio Raiders.

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The sun was already high by the time Kain stepped onto the training field.

He was ten minutes late on purpose. Not because he was trying to be disrespectful. Just... on principle. Being punctual for something he didn't want to do felt like betrayal.

A crowd had gathered — Marines of all ranks, whispering, nudging each other, some even placing quiet bets under the radar. Kain ignored them. Or tried to. One of them called out, "You gonna fall asleep mid-fight again, Lieutenant?"

Kain raised a lazy hand in response, not even looking. "That's the plan."

Smoker stood at the center of the ring, arms crossed, coat billowing behind him despite the lack of wind. He looked like someone out of a recruitment poster — the kind Kain routinely used as makeshift bookmarks for manga.

"You're late," Smoker said.

"I had to emotionally prepare," Kain said. He stretched one arm lazily behind his back. "And finish breakfast. In that order."

Smoker shook his head. "You never change."

"That's the dream."

Tashigi was off to the side, arms folded tight against her chest. Her expression was unreadable. Worry, probably. Annoyance, definitely. But there was something else too — a quiet kind of hope.

The kind that always made Kain feel worse.

The match began without a countdown.

Smoker moved first, transforming into smoke in a blur of motion. He swept toward Kain like a living storm, jitte aimed low, trying to sweep the legs.

Kain dodged — barely. The edge of the weapon grazed his coat.

"You're not pulling punches, huh?" Kain muttered.

"You said you wanted this over with," Smoker replied, reforming behind him and launching another strike. "I'm obliging."

Kain danced back, his movements lazy-looking but efficient. He was used to conserving energy. Every dodge, every sidestep, just enough to avoid contact. He didn't waste a single breath more than necessary.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as the lazy Lieutenant they thought was all talk actually kept up with a Logia-type like it was routine.

And then — a flick of the wrist. Kain activated the Haki Infusion.

It wasn't dramatic. No big flash. Just a soft pulse. His fists darkened with Armament Haki, and a low vibration hummed through his bones.

"Huh," Kain muttered, flexing his hand. "Feels like I dipped my knuckles in regret."

Smoker's eyes narrowed. "You learned Haki?"

"I invested in survival," Kain replied, cracking his neck.

He moved in — not fast, but deliberate.

Smoker struck again. Kain blocked with his forearm. The jitte scraped against his Haki-clad skin, sparks flying. And for the first time, Smoker's expression shifted.

Kain followed up with a palm strike — open-handed, casual. It connected. Not enough to knock Smoker down, but enough to prove the point.

"You're holding back," Smoker growled.

"I'm tired," Kain said. "That's not the same thing."

The fight dragged on — not long, maybe fifteen minutes, but each exchange felt like a silent argument. Smoker was fast. Strong. Focused.

Kain was slippery. Calm. Annoyingly precise.

They weren't trying to win so much as outlast each other.

Eventually, Kain ducked a sweeping strike and swept his leg low, catching Smoker off guard. The captain stumbled back.

Kain didn't follow up.

Instead, he dropped into a sitting position, catching his breath. "You win yet?"

Smoker stared at him, chest rising slowly with each breath. "We're not done."

"We're not winning either."

Smoker cracked a small grin. "Fair."

They stood there for a beat — two exhausted men pretending they weren't exhausted. Around them, the crowd was dead silent.

Then a voice broke through it — Tashigi, running onto the field, panic written across her face.

Tashigi's boots hit the training field with urgency, the crisp beat of her run slicing through the stunned silence.

"Captain Smoker! Lieutenant Kain!" she called, her voice sharp and breathless.

Both men turned. Smoker immediately straightened, already shifting from fighter to officer. Kain, still sitting cross-legged in the dirt, just groaned.

"If this is another paperwork emergency, I swear—"

"It's not," Tashigi cut in, eyes serious. "We have pirates. At the port."

Smoker was already moving. "Name?"

"The Radio Raiders," she said, panting. "Their captain calls himself 'Static.' He's a Logia. Radio wave-type."

Kain raised an eyebrow. "Radio waves? Is that even a thing?"

"Apparently," she said, tugging him up by the arm. "He's turning into pure interference and frying everything in sight. They've already destroyed three Transponder Snail shops. No comms are working."

Smoker muttered a curse under his breath, adjusting the grip on his jitte. "We'll talk about this match later. Let's go."

Kain dusted himself off, dragging his feet. "Oh, great. A Logia user made of literal static. That won't be annoying at all."

As they rushed off the training grounds, a system chime echoed in Kain's mind.

[System Notification: New Quest Available!]

He didn't slow down.

[Quest: Defeat the Radio Raiders!]

- Objective: Protect Loguetown from Static and his crew.

- Reward: 500 BSP.

- Failure Penalty: Your voice will broadcast as distorted radio static for 24 hours.

Kain blinked. "...What does that even mean?"

[Your dialogue will become incomprehensible, highly annoying, and may cause migraines in NPCs.]

"Oh, screw this."

They reached the docks just as another explosion ripped through the district.

The sky above the harbor buzzed with a strange energy. The air itself seemed warped, flickering with invisible frequency. Static's power was everywhere — not just noise, but something deeper. Something crawling under the skin.

Shop signs blinked erratically. Den Den Mushi fell silent. Marines shouted orders that got swallowed by the distortion. The smell of burning wood and fried electronics hung thick in the air.

At the center of the chaos, Static stood on top of a cargo crate, arms raised. His body shimmered — shifting between solid form and vibrating pulses of electromagnetic energy.

He wore goggles, a grin, and absolutely no shirt.

"People of Loguetown!" he announced, his voice distorting unnaturally with every word. "Your outdated technology has been… disconnected!"

Kain squinted. "Is he always like this?"

Tashigi sighed. "Discrimination against Transpoder snails? Yup. Apparently, he's the savior of human innovation."

"Great. A villain who thinks he's clever."

Smoker didn't wait for an opening. He launched forward, his body becoming smoke mid-stride. His jitte swung hard, aiming for Static's chest.

It passed right through him.

"Nice try, Captain Cloud," Static smirked, flickering back into wave-form. "You gotta tune in if you want to land a hit!"

"Puns. I hate puns." Kain stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. The Haki Infusion still shimmered faintly around his hands.

He didn't rush.

He didn't pose.

He just walked.

Slow, deliberate steps.

Static turned to him. "And who's this guy? You look like you work at a bakery, not a Marine base."

"Wish I did," Kain muttered. "Less screaming. Better snacks."

Static blinked. "What?"

Kain's fist hit him square in the face.

It landed — solid.

Static stumbled, energy crackling off him as he reeled from the blow. "You—?! You have Haki?!"

Kain shook out his hand. "Yeah. Temporary access. Costs about 500 existential points."

"Wha- huh?"

Tashigi darted in, blade drawn. "We'll handle the underlings. You take him."

"Of course I will," Kain muttered. "Why wouldn't I fight the guy made of invisible soundwaves?"

He stepped forward again. The battle had begun.

As the Marines and pirates clashed around them, Kain faced Static in the center of the port.

Power hummed in the air.

His Haki shimmered faintly.

And still, he looked… tired.

"Let's get this over with," he muttered.

Static crackled, charging up another wave. "You're in over your head, Lieutenant. You're not getting in another cheap shot."

"Probably," Kain said, raising his fists. "But I'm too tired to care what you think."

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