Jackson Swan a One Piece Story

Loguetown was a city full of possibilities, and Jackson, despite the disappointment of not finding the Devil Fruit from the pirate captain, couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. He'd been hoping that the fruit might've been left behind in the wreckage of the fight, but after thoroughly searching, he had to admit it was gone. Maybe it had reincarnated somewhere else in the world—maybe it had found another vessel to pass through. Regardless, it wasn't meant for him.

Still, Jackson didn't let that discourage him. Life on the Bell Leah had changed, and his promotion to gunner was a significant step forward. There was still much to learn, and he had a long way to go if he wanted to be someone worth remembering in this world.

So, after getting a decent rest and making sure the pirates were no longer a threat, Jackson decided to explore Loguetown. He had a little bit of money from his reward for turning in the pirates, not much but enough to enjoy a bit of the city.

The streets were bustling with life—merchants calling out their wares, travelers moving through, and the occasional pirate or bounty hunter passing by. Jackson walked around, taking in the sights and sounds. The city felt alive with energy, like anything could happen here. He admired the mixture of old buildings and newer ones, the streets crowded with people and stalls offering everything from fresh fruit to exotic trinkets.

He wandered through various shops, observing the strange and varied goods, most of it far from what he needed. But as he walked through one narrow street, a small store caught his eye. It was tucked away in a corner, its sign hanging crookedly, barely visible behind a stack of crates. Jackson paused and pushed open the door.

The shop was filled with all kinds of nautical gear—ropes, compasses, maps, and a few odd trinkets. But there, on a shelf near the back of the store, was exactly what Jackson had hoped to find: a log pose.

A log pose, a navigational tool necessary to chart a course through the Grand Line, was one of the most important items for any adventurer or sailor who planned to travel the treacherous waters of the Grand Line. Jackson knew from his previous life that it was a must-have for anyone aiming to navigate that chaotic stretch of the world. The log pose would lock onto the magnetic field of a particular island, guiding the user's ship straight to it. Once there, it would automatically reset to the next island. Depending on the island's distance, the journey could take anywhere from a few hours to several years.

The price on the log pose was steep, more than Jackson had expected to pay, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He had a few coins to his name, and this was a key item for his future travels.

Jackson stepped forward and addressed the elderly shopkeeper, a thin, wiry man who was hunched over a small table, tinkering with something in his hands.

"Excuse me," Jackson began, trying to sound confident, "How much for the log pose?"

The old man looked up from his work, his wrinkled face barely showing any sign of recognition. "Ah, you're looking at the log pose, eh? Quite the rare item, that one. It's a good one for someone like you, who's planning to head into the Grand Line." He squinted at Jackson, sizing him up. "That'll cost you 300,000 beri."

Jackson's stomach sank. That was a lot more than he had expected. He had only a fraction of that amount on him.

"300,000?" Jackson echoed, trying not to show his surprise. "That's a little steep, don't you think? How about 200,000?"

The old man chuckled softly. "Young man, I've been around long enough to know the value of a log pose. You can't just find these things lying around. If you want it, you'll have to pay the full price."

Jackson smirked, his mind already working. He wasn't going to back down easily. "I get that it's a valuable item. But look, I've got a crew to think about, and we're docked here for only a short time. I'm doing you a favor by buying it now. How about we make a deal?"

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A deal, you say? Alright, what do you have in mind?"

Jackson leaned forward slightly, putting on his best bargaining face. "I've got 250,000 beri. Take it or leave it."

The shopkeeper stroked his chin for a moment, clearly considering the offer. After a long pause, he sighed and shook his head. "Alright, fine. 250,000 it is. But I'll throw in a spare compass as well. No extra charge."

Jackson grinned, extending his hand. "Deal."

The old man handed over the log pose, and Jackson paid the agreed amount, feeling a surge of accomplishment. He had haggled the price down and got a spare compass to boot. It wasn't the full amount he had hoped for, but it was a fair deal considering how important this item would be for his travels.

As Jackson left the store, he felt a sense of pride. One more step in his journey toward the Grand Line. The log pose was now securely in his pack, a small but vital tool for what lay ahead.

With the rest of his remaining money, Jackson wandered through the city, picking up a few more things: some new clothes, a jacket that would be useful in the upcoming travels, and a pair of sturdy boots. They weren't anything special, but they would serve him well on the journey.

He spent the rest of the day exploring Loguetown, wandering through the bustling streets, feeling the energy of the place. It was a city filled with stories, adventure, and danger—all the things he had come to seek. But as night began to fall, Jackson knew it was time to return to the Bell Leah.

With the log pose in hand and a few new items for his journey, Jackson's mind was already racing with the possibilities that lay ahead. He was ready for the next part of the adventure—the Grand Line. And with every step, he was getting closer to it.

The Bell Leah would be setting sail again soon, and Jackson was more prepared than ever to face whatever came next.

The night in Loguetown was lively. The crew of the Bell Leah had worked hard and fought even harder, and they were more than ready to let off some steam. As the evening wore on, the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking mugs filled the air. Some of the crew had gathered at a tavern near the docks, while others had stayed on board to drink and sing in their own way.

Jackson, however, had no interest in joining the celebration. He had never been one for drinking, not even in his past life, and the thought of a drunken night didn't appeal to him. While the rest of the crew let loose, Jackson stayed aboard the ship, watching from a distance. He wasn't bothered by it; he simply didn't see the point in indulging in what he knew would be a temporary escape.

Instead, he spent his time inspecting the ship and thinking about their next move. He couldn't help but feel the weight of the upcoming journey. The Grand Line awaited, and with the log pose safely tucked away in his pack, Jackson knew that the Bell Leah would soon be setting sail again. The crew might have their night of fun, but Jackson was already thinking about the next step.

By the time the night drew to a close, and the crew began stumbling back toward the ship, Jackson had already gotten a good night's rest. He had no plans of spending the next day in the same haze of drunkenness that would surely greet the others. And sure enough, as dawn broke the next morning, Jackson was up early—before the sun had fully risen—making noise on deck.

The sound of barrels being rolled, ropes being tightened, and tools clanking together echoed throughout the ship. Jackson made sure to slam a few of the nearby barrels just a little too hard and let out a loud shout as he moved about the ship, not trying to be quiet in the slightest.

"Rise and shine!" he called out cheerfully, his voice booming across the deck. "The sun's up, and so are we! Hope you all slept well, because we've got work to do!"

From below deck, he heard groaning and the sounds of crew members slowly starting to stir. Griff, looking disheveled and holding his head, emerged first, squinting against the sunlight.

"Jackson, what the hell?" Griff groaned, holding his head. "You couldn't have waited just a little longer to start making noise?"

"Not my problem," Jackson said with a grin, continuing his work. "You guys had a great night, didn't you? I'm just making sure you remember it."

One by one, the crew members started to trickle onto the deck, rubbing their eyes and looking like they regretted every drink they'd had the night before. Some stumbled around, still half-drunk, while others grabbed their heads as if the world was spinning.

"Ugh, my head's killing me," said Rafe, one of the stronger crew members, clutching his forehead. "What time is it?"

"Morning," Jackson said simply. "The sun's already up, and you've got a lot to make up for."

Griff huffed, trying to shake the fog from his mind. "Damn you, Jackson. Just wait until we get to your next hangover. I'll make sure you get a taste of this."

Jackson chuckled, reaching for a barrel next to him. "I'll pass on that, thanks. Instead, I brought something that might help." He lifted a large barrel of juice—freshly squeezed, with a bright orange hue—and set it down in front of them. "Drink up. It'll help you feel better."

The crew members who had gathered around, some still holding their heads, eyed the barrel cautiously, but the thirst was stronger than the reluctance to move.

"You actually brought us something decent for once?" Griff said with a half-smile. "Alright, I'll bite." He grabbed a mug and took a long drink from the barrel.

The rest of the crew followed suit, slowly but surely, drinking down the refreshing juice. As they did, their groans of discomfort lessened, and the mood seemed to lift. The relief from the juice was immediate—some of the weariness washed away, and the effects of their drunken night slowly faded.

"Not bad, kid," Griff said after a few more gulps, his voice a little clearer now. "You're lucky we don't all hate you for being the only one sober."

"Don't worry, Griff. I wouldn't hold it against you," Jackson said, grinning. "Now, while you're all recovering, I'm going to get started on some of the repairs. The damage from the pirate attack wasn't too bad, but it's still enough to keep us busy for the day."

"Repairs? What repairs?" Rafe muttered, though his words were more slurred than usual as he leaned over to refill his mug.

"Nothing major, just some of the cannon mounts and the rigging," Jackson explained. "But the ship took a few hits. It'll need fixing before we leave. Captain Fox will want to make sure we're ready for anything."

As the crew began to come around, Jackson moved to the side of the ship, grabbing some of the necessary tools and starting the work himself. He knew that, despite the fun they'd had, the crew would need to pull together and get the ship back in shape. They were headed into dangerous waters soon, and the Bell Leah needed to be ready for whatever came next.

"I'll help with the rigging," Griff called after him, the worst of his hangover starting to pass. "Don't go getting too comfortable without us."

Jackson nodded and smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it. We'll be ready to leave in no time."

By midday, after a few more hours of work, the repairs were finished. It hadn't been anything too major—just some small fixes to the ship's cannons and a few adjustments to the rigging, but Jackson knew it was important to get everything back in order before they set sail. The Bell Leah was ready.

"Good work, everyone," Captain Fox said as he walked onto the deck, looking over the repairs with satisfaction. "Now that we're patched up and ready to go, we'll head out in the morning. Get some rest tonight. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

Jackson nodded, feeling a sense of pride in the work they had done. It had been a day of hard work and a little fun, but the real challenge was still ahead—the Grand Line was waiting.

And with that, Jackson's thoughts turned toward the future, ready to face whatever came next with his new crew and his newfound position as gunner.