"oi, cut the crap, Masaru, ain't no way there are any merfolks. don' ya tell this to Noah, or he'd be searchin' for these humanoid fishes 'round."

Majima exclaims, tossing his hand in the air, eyes narrowing at Masaru, thinking the man’s just spinning yarns.

"do you think i would joke, captain? many pirates talk about them. they say that these merfolks are beautiful, but really murderous. maybe they're even tasty, who knows..."

Masaru leaned in, voice low, trying to sell Majima on his merfolk tales. still, Majima remained skeptical, swigging his beer with a smirk. they sat at the karaoke bar Revolve, their usual haunt in Honolulu, drinking, laughing, and trading stories of the sea.

but indeed, the myths of Madlantis told of merfolks: humanoid creatures with long, glimmering tails, fins and sharp claws, straight from fairytales, yet far from innocent. they say of their bloodlust, claiming countless pirates had met their end at these creatures’ hands over the centuries.

one blazing afternoon, the Goro Pirates landed on a secluded island, chasing rumors of treasure. after skirmishes with rival crews, they combed the shore, when Majima spotted something tangled in nets, thrashing frantically. curiosity pricked the captain and he crept closer, silent as the tide, until he realized: it was the merfolk Masaru had spoken of.

"holy anchor, is sunstroke hittin' my ol' ass or is that shit real?"

he muttered under his breath, crouching near the trapped creature. a chuckle escaped him, disbelief still wrestling with wonder.

"what a beautiful thing, huh? what, if i'll let ya go, ya'll murder me? take me with ya under the water?"

Majima chuckled, half-joking, half-wary, unsure what the merfolk might do if he helped it escape the nets.