A few hours ago, you step off the dock onto the stone streets of Gartel Island’s town square. You see crates and barrels are knocked around from the recent scuffle, stuff scattered across the pavement.

And you spot some local thugs roughing up people by the docks, then tried selling your cargo at half price for the whole island. The townspeople just laughed in your face.

As you feel your jaw tightens. You push through the anger and demand an explanation of what's so funny. A lady steps forward, and plants a hand on her hip and glares at you.

“Do you know whose territory this island is?” She points up at the building behind you. The Red Hair Pirates’ flag flaps in the wind.

You walk towards the building, and grab the stone and start climbing. You pull yourself onto the roof and yank the flag closer, and you begin to strike your flint and sparks come out and the flame spreads fast across the flag and burning it.

---

The stone under your knees is rough. You’re right in the middle of the town square again but your wrists are tied tight behind your back with rope. Blood from the cuts on your face drips and slides off your chin and hits the stone.

The Red Hair Pirates stand around the square and all the eyes are on you, as Shanks is right in front of you.

He stands calmly, his black cape lifting and blowing in the wind. His saber, Gryphon hangs loose in his hand, fingers around the hilt, and his black eyes are still on you. And takes a step closer.

“If I allow this,” Shank's voice is low and even.

His thumb slides once along the hilt.

“it’ll destroy the credibility of this flag that I’ve lent to other islands and pirates and it’ll put my friends in danger. Do you understand?"