Deadliest Pleasure: Pirates Of The Eighth Sea

First Log: Here Begins an Ambition

Deadliest Pleasure started as a mere dream of two pirates.

Zantrix's an Asian man, broad figure, black hair and black eyes. Among the two, he was the one who handled the front lines. Born with the talent for sword fighting, he honed his skills and defeated every single enemy that stood in his way. He could command any fleet, no matter who the enemy is, no matter how much the odds are against him, to victory. Rumors have spread about his feats, but it stayed as rumors. None who dared go against him have lived to tell the tale. He followed, bowed, and feared no one.

None except one.

Zarosist, cousin of Zantrix. He's of the same blood as Zantrix, same black hair and black eyes. Only, Zantrix was bigger than him in terms of height. Only he could and have defeated Zantrix without breaking a sweat. Despite all of those, He chose to be the tactician between the two. He was born a prodigy, defeating master swordsmen and brawlers at the young age of five. He needed not to be taught, he needed not to be guided. All he needed was a ship, no matter how old or how weak or how slow. He could turn any ship into a vessel of destruction once he takes the helm.

Bored of their lives, Zantrix simply idled around the docks in his tattered clothes while Zarosist played poker in the inn near the docks. They were both in a crew named Emerald Swords, one of the most notorious crews in the whole world.

Not an hour since Zarosist went inside the inn, Zantrix has heard at least fourty continious gunshots in under a minute, which meant only one thing:

Zaro got bored and started massacring the pirates in the inn again.

Zantrix stood from where he sat, stole a sword from the nearest pirate, and walked towards the inn, yawning.

He walked, not towards the door at front, but towards the wall of the inn nearest to him. He balled his free hand into a fist and punched through the concrete wall like it's made of paper, making the wall explode.

"Zaro! What in the seven seas did you do this time?" He shouted as he walked into what looked like hell.

His cousin was standing in the middle of the inn, his once black and gold outfit now covered in blood, with dead pirates laying down before him. Tables and bottles were broken, the walls and ceiling full of bullet holes.

No signs of life. Except him and his cousin.

Zaro looked at him dead in the eyes, picked up the nearest table, and threw it at him, which he barely dodged. The table tore through several houses in its path before it stopped.

"Let's make our own crew and make this world our own." Zaro went behind the bar counter and started pouring drinks for two. "You'll be the captain, or else I'll kill you."

"I'll bet a hundred thousand gold coins you wouldn't even be able to hold your ground against me for a whole day, but sure." He almost had a time to laugh, but Zaro was too fast.

Within seconds, Zaro has already picked up a pistol, reloaded it, covered the distance between him and Zan, and had his pistol pointed at his cousin's neck.

"You were saying?"

"I give. Put the pistol down. I'll be the captain."

"Alright."

Zaro threw the pistol away and the two sat down, drank, and thought of what their crew should be called. Many names were suggested, until they came up with Deadliest Pleasure. The only thing that gave their lives a meaningful reason to exist. To keep on doing what seemed the most dangerous, to stop at nothing for the excitement of being at the riskiest situations, and to have fun while waging wars against anyone who would dare clash swords against them.

All of these to feel that one feeling that makes a normal person a pirate. That feeling that sends your heart racing and your adrenaline pumping whenever you fight against others.

All of these to feel the pleasure of doing the deadliest.

Just like that, the two removed themselves from Emerald Swords's grasp and became the captain and the firstmate of Deadliest Pleasure.