Sylvester Sweet walked quickly through the side streets of Water 7, casting off caution in the need for urgency. In his burgeoning travels across the Grand Line, Strategos had accrued a fair bit of information about a shady shipmaker, whose dealings on the island had thrown quite a bit of fuel onto the fire of this chaotic world. Before ever looking to cool that conflagration, Sylvester knew quite well it would be necessary to douse this incendiary. Every step has one before it, as he’d come to know. And, before he took another, the man noted a duo of patrols making their way through the canal, and he opted to duck aside, seeking to avoid their gaze.

That shipmaker, Uther Lance, was better connected than Sylvester had anticipated, and their first meeting had gone quite poorly. Unsurprisingly, the leader of the Red Forest Company wasn’t willing to halt their production, and as a result, Sylvester was promptly chased out of their headquarters, and his mug was being shared to anyone with some bit of authority on the island. Such an outcome was to be expected, but Sylvester had figured it was well worth it to see if he could avoid the mess of a large fight.

To learn firsthand that other pirates were a part of Uther’s latest deal only made Water 7 a more appetizing target for Sylvester. Though it did mean an all out fight would be a tricky situation to pull off. Even the workers of the Red Forest Company had proven themselves far more capable than Sylvester had predicted. Back in the West Blue, there were many people who were just there, they were very simple pieces to be tacked upon a greater piece. But, here in the Grand Line, every individual soul seemed stronger, or more hardy. Water 7 was not the simple farmland he’d left behind.

Sylvester was unsure of how to progress. Massively outnumbered, it seemed he’d have to apply a few extra tools in order to dismantle the Red Forest Company. The business seemed so mundane, that it didn’t appear recruiting civilian support would be helpful here. If he attacked them directly, the pirates may be around in order to protect whatever goods they were looking to get their hands on. But, every moment he waited was more time for him to be exposed by the city’s authorities. Procedurally, every option was being neatly chopped off his mental list, with hardly anything looking viable.

For now, more information seemed to be the order of the day. From his meager preliminary examination of the city, he knew of a seedy saloon nearby that might have what he sought. Crossing canals and rounding the architecture, he eventually came upon the shaded double doors, hidden under the bridge over a certain narrow stream of water. As he burst into the room with inimitable showmanship, however, he was greeted by an unpleasant surprise.

Two locally stationed marines were examining the room’s patrons, and both pairs of eyes rose to identify the cowboy who’d just made his way into their sights. A moment of a standoff passed between the trio, each person in the bar content to look on to the theatrics. One of the marine’s was first to crack, who went quick for his cutlass, signalling to both Sylvester and his partner to reach for their respective weapons. Sylvester whipped open Trust, his revolver from its holster, firmly displeased he was being forced to fight in such a grimy, poorly lit setting.

It was a typical Wednesday in Water 7, businesses were bustling, the streets crowded with people playing out their mundane and boring lives. Klinghoffer was holed up in a local watering hole hidden away from the public by a stone bridge that went over a canal, he had been doing a show that day as usual when he caught wind of a man that goes by the alias "Tight Noose" and his associate Uther Lance. This wasn't the first time he had heard of Tight Noose and Klinghoffer sure knew what it meant when you heard his name spoken, death. In the dimly lit saloon that he had found himself in happened to had attracted some of the local marines that were patrolling, Klinghoffer knew fully well that marines who slacked off in saloons can be sacked on the spot but crooked marines always have their way.

"You don't think that the Uther guy is playing them? I mean how could they try and hide such a thing i-" one of the marines at the bar spoke but was cut off by the other as they yelled "Get off the stage or play some fuckin' music already!" The scared musician ran off the stage and out of the bar, leaving Klinghoffer to be the next performance. He stood up and walked over to the small stage in the back of the saloon with his gaze facing away from the marines to be certain they wouldn't learn of his identity, he sat down on an old wooden stool with two rather large bottles of tequila at the foot of it. Klinghoffer pulled out his guitar, Layla, and proceeded to  plug her into the amplifier that was supplied by the saloon. As he plays he listens to the marines talking about the Red Forest company and their previous dealings, this kept on for an hour or two until a man dressed like a cowboy busted through the swinging saloon doors. Klinghoffer hadn't seen anything remotely close to a cowboy since he was in the west blue, many farm workers and such in the west wore such attire and it brought on a small wave of nostalgia.

"Fresh meat" one marine said to the other as the both stood up and stared at the cowboy, the atmosphere in the room was tense as all the patrons looked over to the commotion. Klinghoffer instinctively put down his guitar and grabbed the two bottles of tequila beside him, he felt a somewhat brotherly connection to the cowboy as he seemed like the only person familiar that he had come across in the whole of water 7, Klinghoffer quietly walked up behind the two marines as they stared at the cowboy with a murderous intent. One of the marines quickly pulled out their cutlass, promptly followed by the cowboy and the other marine. "Yippee Ki-Yay Cowbo-" one of the pirates said as they started to charge, unfortunately for them, before they could finish their sentence Klinghoffer had struck both of the marines with the tequila bottles in the back of the head. The bottles smash and tequila flows as the two unconscious marines hit the floor, Klinghoffer wipes his alcohol soaked hands on his smokey grey cargo pants as he steps on and over the marines. "The name's Klinghoffer" He says holding out a hand for a handshake, "pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Suddenly, there was no need for Sylvester to dirty his hands. Two marines were soiled on the bar’s wooden floor, with a stranger extending his name. The cowboy returned Trust to her holster and reached out a hand in greeting, “Sylvester Sweet. I’m enchanted, Klinghoffer,” his vision turned from the long haired brawler to the marines, grimacing at the pathetic scene they now presented. “These two are quite the eyesore, no?”

Turning from his new acquaintance to the patrons, he instead addressed the room instead of the stranger. “This establishment is already in need of a great renovation. I’d hate to further desecrate its shallow aesthetics with more bodies strewn across the hardwood. To prevent such a thing, I’d first ask kindly if anyone has any information on an Uther Lance and Red Forest Company here in town.”

Sylvester’s hand then fell from his hip to the coil of rope at his side. It’d been a while since he’d had the chance to pull of some pretty rope tricks. A stage at one end of the bar must have meant the drinkers and drunkards were more receptive to theatrics than to words. And, the way Sylvester used it, his rope had a way of making people sing.

“If I have to ask again, it won’t be so kind,” Sylvester warned the room. His eyes swept its population again, looking for a face that was especially nervous, a person trying too hard to make themselves invisible under his gaze. “Uther Lance, I’m sure you citizens know of him. A shipwright, arms dealer, he’s recently been running around with some unscrupulous folks? Am I ringing any bells?”

He took a step towards the polite man, who was handy with those bottles earlier. A guitar was held near him and it seemed he was the entertainer before Sylvester had enraptured their attention. “How about you, Klinghoffer? Any information? I’ll give you a drink to replace those two in exchange for any good stories I may be after.”  After asking the question, he gave the man a closer inspection.

He then added, "I'll even throw in some fashion advice, free of charge."

As Klinghoffer returned his hand back by his side he stood there and witnessed a cowboy herding people like cattle, Sylvester's voice bellowing through the room with all the patrons hanging off of his every word. After he addressed them he quickly turned back around the Klinghoffer and asked “How about you, Klinghoffer? Any information? I’ll give you a drink to replace those two in exchange for any good stories I may be after. I'll even throw in some fashion advice, free of charge." Slightly stunned by his remark and how he had conducted himself in front of the crowd Klinghoffer stutters then manages to speak, "Y-yeah i'd been listening to the two of them while i played, i was planning on following up a lead about some warehouse on dock 7 that apparently Uther has been doing some shady stuff in...number 5 i believe it was. I was going to head over there after my gig finished but i guess i'm free now."

Klinghoffer walked over the marines to his guitar, he saw a gleam out of the corner of his eye and when he looked over he saw the owner and bartender of the saloon peering up from under the grimy counter. The gleam that he saw was the tip of a double barrel shotgun, looking at the man you could see the fear in his eyes so just in good measure Klinghoffer stares him dead in the eye, raises his arm and points one finger at the barkeep with his other hand slowly reaches down to pick up Layla."Don't you dare fucking move you slimy, underpaying toad. One strum of this guitar and i could blow your head clean off" he says as he grabs Layla by the neck. The barkeep whimpers as he drops the shotgun and puts a bottle of expensive alcohol onto the counter from under the shelf, "J-Just like Señor cowboy said, one drink...on the house just don't do any more damage to my sa-" "Sorry bud your time is up, better luck next time" Klinghoffer says interrupting the bartender and with a loud twang he plucks a chord, the sound blasting out and breaking the shelf of bottles behind the bartender. Klinghoffer then slings his guitar over his shoulder and rests it on his back, he proceeds to grab the bottle that was left on the counter and starts to head out but when he reached the saloon doors he stopped and turned his head to say "You comin' Sylvester?"

Klinghoffer lead his new found cowboy acquaintance down the winding canals of water seven down through the more rough and grim part of to the sizeable docks that spanned what seemed to be endless, they started at dock four and slowly made their way through the fifth and sixth docks until they arrived in dock 7. This place wasn't where you would usually find an upstanding citizen or businessman, instead it was populated by filthy looking thugs who would extort a baby if it paid. "It should be about...here" Klinghoffer says as he stops at warehouse 4 and hides himself behind a tower of crates, signalling Sylvester to do so aswell. He looks on at the warehouse and spots a small group of Red Forest Company workers outside on guard talking among themselves, Klinghoffer lowers his voice and addresses Sylvester. "So, what's the play here cowboy?"

Sylvester Sweet was very appreciative that this strange new acquaintance had proved himself capable in his information gathering. He was far less pleased with the mess that Klinghoffer seemed prone to leave in his wake. With puddles of alcohol rippling about the saloon, and still two marines strewn across the floor unevenly, it was all the cowboy could do to ignore the small mess and follow the explosive guitarist from the establishment and re-emerge into the fresh air of Water 7. It seemed his success was now riding upon this young stranger.

Avoiding large pockets of civilians and guard posts across the city, Sylvester was led by the nose towards Water 7’s docks. Much of this day had already been spent on simply walking among these canals and warehouses, with sunset coming soon. When his tour guide finally stopped, the pair were beyond where it seemed most authorities were keen to spend their afternoons.

An unsuspecting trio of shipwrights stood in front of Warehouse Five. The red tree patch on their uniforms identified them as members of the Red Forest Company. It seemed Klinghoffer’s directions weren’t worthless, despite the young man’s appearance unsavory appearance. Though grimy and rather abandoned, the fine wooden docks still didn’t deserve the mess that the bartender had made back in the saloon. There was no need to put this trio at the mercy of those strange sounds.

“Settle here for a moment, Sideshow,” Sylvester ordered, pulling out his long, thick rope to tie a wide lasso in it.

“Initial Trick,” the Cowboy said with a great accent, and he hurled the lasso towards the lantern towards the top of Warehouse Four. Followed by a strong jerk of his arm, he climbed the rest of the rope, looking to get a good vantage point within the neighboring warehouse. From so high up, he was able to peer over the walls.

At the center of the building was an intimidatingly massive ship, draped with tarp and canvas so as to obscure most of the ship. The vessel reminded Sylvester of the large marine battleships that brought him so much discomfort. Coming around its bow were two men, one of which had helped to chase Sylvester from the heart of Water 7 earlier that day.

Uther Lance was walking and talking with the unmistakable pirate, Rascal Stone. Rascal was a face among many that Sylvester had studied on his way towards Water 7. He knew that Stone frequented the wares of Water 7, but had no clue as to the man’s involvement with the Red Forest Company, or this behemoth of a ship. “Tight Noose,” as Rascal Stone was also known, was worth 15,000,000 beli to anyone upstanding enough to turn him in and collect the reward. His pirate crew, Under Station were no pushovers either. Their involvement with the company only proved the amount of discord this company of shipwrights could produce. After a grand sweep of his arm, Rascal shook hands with Uther, and both turned to leave the building.

Sylvester Sweet took that as his cue to make tracks. He leapt back down towards where he’d left Klinghoffer, saying before he landed or looked for the guy, “No need to add on to this mess here, Sideshow. We should make our clean getaway.”

As the confident cowboy gave his orders, Klinghoffer stayed put and surveyed the area for any possible entries to the warehouse and escape routes they could take. When his newly found ally hurled his lasso and began to climb up the wall, Klinghoffer was astonished by the feat of strength that Sylvester had performed and his reaction almost left him open. Two athletically built men wearing Red Forest Company patches were walking towards warehouse 5 from the direction of warehouse one and were getting dangerously close to the pair of pirates. However with a quick flick of his foot Klinghoffer kicks a ruggedly shaped rock straight past one of the workers and into the stomach of the other, the rock's impact wasn't enough to wind the worker but it did distract them for a small moment. "Huh?" The Red Forest worker said and he leaned over to pick up the rock that had just hit his stomach, "What is it?" The other unsuspecting worker said as he stared at the small rock.

This gave Klinghoffer a small window to camouflage himself in his surroundings, he ran into an open alley that was next to warehouse 4 making sure to knock over a empty bottle that had been left by a worker. He hid in a doorway at the end of the alley and played a soothing lullaby that he had learned here in water 7, the lullaby was known as The Water Flows and is sung by mothers to soothe their children to sleep. Meanwhile, the two workers heard the sound of the empty bottle hitting the floor and walked over into the alley to inspect the broken bottle however unbeknownst to them, they had just walked straight into his trap. Enchanted by the sweet sound reminiscent of their childhoods, the two workers walked down the alley towards the music and it was the moment that they walked straight by the doorway in their hypnotized state that Klinghoffer walked out from his hiding and started choking both of the workers one by one. As he laid the first unconscious victim on the floor he proceeded to do the same to the other, however as he was chocking out the second foe he found a small piece of scrap paper with what seemed to be a map of the the slums with a few red X marks scattered around it. With a prolonged sigh Klinghoffer puts the map in his pocket and starts to make his way back out of the alley to his scouting comrade.

“No need to add on to this mess here, Sideshow. We should make our clean getaway.”
he hears Sylvester say just as he turns the corner. "Ah, right... this way then, i have just the spot to hide out.. You can tell me all about what you saw then" Klinghoffer replies hastily as he leads Sylvester back down the ally he just came from, over the unconscious bodies and through the canals once more. They travel for a short while until they arrive on top of a building in the business district, it was much quieter that down below in the bustling streets, the air seemed slightly fresher yet it was still the same. Klinghoffer took in the sights of Water 7 and gazed upon all of the people that looked so small from up above, "So, spill the beans cowboy. What did you find and what's our plan of attack?" he says as he pulls out the map once again.

By the time Klinghoffer’s second tour had ended, he and Sylvester Sweet were milling atop a building in the early evening. From the vantage point, Sylvester could take in the breadth of the island much better than from its streets. Looking up was a fine way of seeing the world, but this pirate quite was fond of standing above it all. Every building seemed like it could be transposed at his very volition, it was easy to imagine his every word commanding the movements of all the little people traveling by road and river. He was so caught up in such fantasies, he nearly missed the guitarist’s question pulling him back to reality.

“A design without a purpose is nothing but a flash in the pan, Sideshow,” Sylvester merely answered. “If we don’t have the right information, we’ll just be loose mustangs, no beauty to our race,” he stepped closer to his makeshift partner. “Against the misters, Lance and Stone, we’re a few cowboys short. Way I see it, we even out the odds while hearing some pretty songs by going after the little ones.”

Sylvester more closely examined Klinghoffer before continuing his planning. Klinghoffer wasn’t exactly the best looking pirate that the cowboy had come across. In fact, his aesthetic was fairly vague and underwhelming, with muted tones to his clothes and slick black hair, he wasn’t exactly the type that Sylvester thought would stand at the top of the clean world he sought to construct. If only he could get his hands on the young musician’s wardrobe, he’d be able to sculpt a visually striking pirate completely unforgettable. Sylvester clasped his hands together before thinking more on the subject. It was no the time or place to apply a proper makeover to the boy.

“My goal on this island was to dismantle the Red Forest Company,” he began to explain, hoping the conversation would distract himself from obsessing over Klinghoffer’s appearance. “Their weapons manufacturing is kindling for the conflagration that is this discordant age. However, it seems he’s working with slavers, more pirates that add to the never ending struggling. Their presence is a bit of dust in my works.”

Talking about his long term goals had refocused Sylvester. He was no longer distracted, and ready again to fix the world, not just the boy standing before him. “Nothing is cleaner than the shake of a hand, Sideshow, even my father knows that,” he simply explained. “I appreciate the help you’ve given me so far, despite your dress, you’ve been quite capable. So, here’s the deal, I’m allowing you to walk away, despite knowing my face, but you have another alternative.”

Before explaining the decision, Sylvester reached out his hand. “You can join me to take down both the Red Forest Company and Under Station. We work together to further tie down this world, and dull the great fire that rages on by a mere shade. We liberate the world from their chaos while watching the other's back, how does that sound to you, Sideshow?”

Klinghoffer looks out at the bright blue sky as he listens to Sylvester speak his peace, It seems so peaceful... he thought to himself as he looks down at all the people rushing around, each has their own life, their own story. The buildings looming over them like constant reminders that they are but one small cog in the machine. These weren't the people actually in danger though, Klinghoffer wouldn't be able to sleep at night after being told that the likes of the Red Forest Company and Under station were slaving and outsourcing via ships. If he didn't do this his conscience wouldn't be clear, no matter how much money he made or however many beautiful women he laid with he could never shake that looming sense of helplessness until he saw the end of people Rascsal Stone and Uther Lance. The way Klinghoffer saw it, there was only one one option and that was to accept the cowboy's offer, he extends his hand and firmly grasps Sylvester's hand and shakes it. Klinghoffer didn't have any second thoughts when saying "I'm in, pleasure to be workin' with ya" with a wide grin.

"To start off this crusade to save slaves" He begins to explain where they should start as he pulls his map of water 7 out of his pocket and onto the floor then puts a small piece of scrap paper next to it. "I picked up this lil' beauty of a piece of paper from one of the workers i knocked out back at the docks, judging by my map it fits perfectly onto an area in the slums. Klinghoffer then proceeds to put the piece of scrap paper ontop of the slums, "It's just a hunch but i believe that the 3 X's on the paper relate to places in the slums where they are keeping those slaves" Klinghoffer says and as he looks on at the the 3 X's on map he remembers his travels throughout the slums during his time in Water 7.

It was during his unofficial tour of Water 7 that he toured the taverns in the slums, since Klinghoffer wasn't well known and couldn't afford transportation from gig to gig or luxury accommodation he spent the majority of his time walking around the place. Just by looking at the X's on the piece of paper Klinghoffer could distinctly recall two of the places being Up Market taverns that were a little above the business district standard, both had the same sort of mood in them, always full and way out of the price range that anyone in the slums could afford. Yet for some reason the last X on the map was a place he couldn't recall, the area that the final X is located in an area that has been deemed out of bounds by the governing power. It was a rare occasion for Klinghoffer to abide by a law but there was a reason his actions, that part of the slums was known as being extremely notorious for killings and was known as Slaughter Row. Klinghoffer explains his experiences in the slums and relays the information that he has about the 3 X's and asks "Now, then... What might you suppose we do Tex?"

Klinghoffer was correct, that map was quite beautiful, even if its accuracy as to the dimensions of the city was a bit off the mark, and the drawings themselves were lacking. To have acquired information about the pirate’s locations was quite the lucky break. It seemed this guitarist really was born under some lucky line of stars. Hopefully, Sylvester wouldn’t have to be cleaning up after him throughout this entire crusade, as the musician had called it.

“We can’t risk ringing any of the wrong cowbells,” Sylvester began to say, examining the map more closely. “Every encampment we snuff out is another mess of gnats we don’t have to worry about. We’ll probably have to keep the slaves under a tight leash. If they do anything wrong, then we lose our advantage,” he explained and then passed back the map over to the other pirate, having committed most of it to memory. “I’ll take the lead here, Sideshow. And, for the record, it’s not Tex. It’ll just be Sylvester, please and thank you.”

With that, he began descending back towards the city streets, hoping the guitarist would stick close. Even in the darkness of the night, there still seemed to be a wealth of patrols scouring the city for threats to its peace. No doubt Klinghoffer’s assault on the shipwrights had taught Lance to be more wary of threats to whatever deal he had cooking up with his clientele. Their presence certainly impeded the pair’s progress through Water 7, but it was only a matter of time until they’d sneaked and slinked their way over bridges and between buildings to reach the squat little building marked by a red ‘X’ on the map.

“I’d politely ask you don’t blow too many things up,” Sylvester Sweet mentioned before pulling out an uncoiling his rope. “Even an establishment such as this has an attraction worth keeping safe.”

That being said, the building looked a bit tricky to enter. Its few windows had been boarded up from the inside, and there was little way of finding out what was going on without blowing open the front door. Sylvester and Klinghoffer had to ensure that no pirate or slave would escape from their grasp, while also keeping the suspicions of wandering eyes away from the situation. A direct approach seemed the right entrance to make.

And so, without further ado, Sylvester planted one foot and blasted the other into the meager wooden door frame, regretfully damaging the entrance, but earning a path inside. With the sudden burst of action, three pirates raised rifles towards their invader, with a couple of folks cowering on the floor, some turning their face aside from the meager moonlight.

Sylvester quickly took action against the trio of threats, spinning a hoop in his rope, “Oh! Secretariat,” and with a defensive position taken, he could only hope his makeshift partner had a less destructive plan in mind to help out, if he was even able to help at all.

Sylvester was right to say that we can afford to ring any of the wrong cowbells, this was going to be an extremely risky job and it would require less destruction and more cunning than Klinghoffer was used to. The cowboy's plan did however shape up nicely and he did choose to take the lead on this operation. If the two of them were actually going to take down such powerful people who were in high command, they would have to knock them down a notch or three. "Aye, no Tex, Just Sylvester"Klinghoffer replied as he picked back up the map and scrap of paper then proceeded to follow behind the Cowboy.

Sylvester led him down from the rooftops, out of the peaceful skyline and into the rowdy streets of the business district and it was from there that they would start winding down side streets and canals passing by unknown individuals that seemed just as disinterested in everyone else's business as everyone was to them, this was the perfect time to move around without gaining notoriety but by the time he knew it, Klinghoffer and Sylvester had arrived at the first destination on this now called crusade. This place was the Red Underbelly, Klinghoffer had remembered this place as one of the toughest crowds he had played for. He listens to Sylvester's orders and turns his metaphorical phasers from kill to stun, he watches the cowboy bust down the doors of the building and as soon as the door hit the hardwood floor three pirates stood up from their seats and aimed their rifles at the intruding cowboy. With his cowboy friend waving his rope around and three men holding rifles against him, the people in the bar were terrified and all had taken to the floor for protection, with a quick glance Klinghoffer saw around 16 customers, the three pirates and as per usual he assumed the bartender was behind the counter.

"Here we go again..." Klinghoffer said as he slung his guitar around from his back into his hands and took one large step into the tavern and straight in front of Sylvester to make sure he stays out of the line of fire. "You might want to cover your ears Sylvester because i call this one 'Baby go bye bye' " Klinghoffer says as he plays his Minor Inversion Triad. With a jazz like chord being played on the neck of his guitar he strums the strings and plays a relaxing tune, suddenly all of the patrons, pirates and even the bartender start finding it impossible to move. Klinghoffer walks straight up to the pirates with all eyes on him and with one finger he pushes the pirates down onto the floor one by one and with a quick flick of his hair he slings his guitar back over his shoulder and rips the rifles out of each of the pirates 'hands. "Alright now!" He exclaims with a dominating voice "None of you can move so don't even try to play hero, not that there is anything to be a hero about, we just want to ask questions.... right boss?"

Sylvester was entirely fond of Klinghoffer’s grand entrance. Settling the fight without much destruction and referring to the cowboy as ‘boss,’ he was liking their partnership more and more. Pulling his hands from his ears, he examined the room more closely, getting a full count of its population. Before speaking he even leaned over the bar to confirm the presence of the barkeep, stopped before reaching for a hidden shotgun. Taking place a ways from the entrance, Sylvester closely examined the bar’s selection, before pulling off an expensive bottle brewed in the West Blue, showing it off to the guitarist.

Grabbing three glasses, he began to pour drinks. “These shots, are for Sideshow over there,” he gestured with his bottle, “your resident cowboy,” he gave a light, practiced bow, “and for the first person to tell me about what’s being stored on the seventh dock, in the fifth warehouse.” Nobody jumped at the offer, as Sylvester expected, but the man was still disappointed. There was no reason it couldn’t just be a drink and an exchange of information. Carefully, Sylvester pulled out Trust, his faithful revolver, checked its six barrels, and gently laid the gun to rest next to the trio of glasses.

“The shots from my beauty here, will be for anyone unwilling to cooperate,” he said, and threw his drink back, stamping the glass back down onto the bar. Still no one looked keen to join the man at the bar. “Let’s start with an easy one then,” he said, picking up the gun and pulling back its hammer. “Where are the slaves being held in this fine establishment? Secret basement? Hidden stronghold out back?”

Still there was no response. “Alright, y’all,” he rolled out the barrels of his revolver, “I don’t do countdowns. They’re just too tedious,” he ran his hand across his gun, sending it spinning as he leveled the barrel at one of the three pirates. “One shot to your vitals, and you should internally bleed out. You’ll keep that mess to yourself, understand?” The spinning drew to a close, finally resting motionless and Sylvester threw his gun back together, firing off a shot, into the man’s chest and turning away from his scream of pain.

Aiming at the next of the three pirates, he began the spinning again, certain the first round of intimidation would suffice. “What’ll it be, stranger?”

“Basement! Basement!” surprisingly, it wasn’t the pirate he was targeting, but the burly man behind him that chose to squeal. “Just don’t hurt him! I’ll show you to it!” The man who once was a target was now breathing heavy, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

Sylvester kept Trust trained on the pirate, “Well thank you kindly, buddy,” Sylvester said with a genuine smile. At the rate they were going, he was afraid he’d have to litter the bar with more corpses, or start tearing the place apart to look for Rascal Stone’s living cargo. Finally, a bird like this meant the extraction would flow much more cleanly. “Sideshow, why don’t you follow our gentleman to this basement of his? Feel free to grab yourselves some drinks while you do! Maybe that whiskey will get him singing some more songs too. Quelling a bad mess always puts me in a good mood, consider the liquor on me, partner!”

The manner that Sylvester lead himself was extraordinarily calm and collected, he maintained the sternest of faces and did not show any signs of remorse or hesitation. Just like any regular person, Klinghoffer was not fond of the sight of blood so seeing his new comrade keep the mess wrapped up tightly and kept inside was pleasant at least, yet no matter how many times he saw it, a gunshot is still a gunshot. Klinghoffer was quite relieved when the man stepped in, if he hadn't then things might of gotten quite messy. As the man stepped in, Layla's effect withdrew its soothing grasp from the customers and the pirates, being able to move surely would relax the patrons and lower the tension. Klinghoffer laid the pirate's rifles against the bar and picked the snitch up by the collar with a loud "Up ya get pal!" with one hand he grabs two of the shots and forces one into the hand of the man then proceeds to down the other in one fell swoop then nods at Sylvester in appreciation, as soon as the man reluctantly took his shot Klinghoffer pushed him along and said in a joyful tone "You taste that pal? That's the taste of a real whiskey and if you don't appreciate it then lets get a move on then shall we?" he then turns to Sylvester and says you should be just peachy here with our pirate friends but if you happen to get lonely you'll know where to find me."

The snitch started to walk to the stairwell but instead of climbing it, he walked along beside it and walked to the storage closet under it. Klinghoffer grabs a half drunken bottle of rum off of the bar counter and walked over to the snitch, "Something the matter pipsqueak?" he says in a menacing voice. "U-Uh no sir! I was just getting my keys!" The man squawks as he fumbles around to grab his keys, he unlocks the door and turns the knob to reveal that behind the door was a stairway leading downward where faint cries could be heard coming from below. "See?! See?! I told you i wasn't lying!" Said the snitch. Klinghoffer pushes the man down and signals him to go down in front of him, he wasn't too trusting of the man so he was kept at an arms length to maintain his use as a meat shield.

They reached the bottom of the stairwell and the pirate stumbled into the dank cobblestone room, Klinghoffer entered the basement shortly after the man and surveyed the area with his eyes. From what he could see there were 10 high stacks of beli piled upon a blueprint for a ship of some sorts that laid on top of a small wooden table in the center of the room, at the back of the room was a large cage containing a large sum of slaves, at a first glance Klinghoffer was to count at least 50 slaves all crowded into the cage. As soon as they walked into the room, a small amount of slaves started to go wild and yell out for help, the ones that didn't seemed like they had been in their longer and had lost hope. "Uhhhh...Hey boss! You might want to take a look at this!" Klinghoffer yelled out to Sylvester as he pulled the snitch in and restrained him.

Sylvester Sweet watched both Klinghoffer and his songbird begin to descend down towards the basement. Once they had, Sylvester holstered Trust and popped a squat onto a nearby stool, keeping his former target in his sights. Instead of the gun, he pulled off his length of rope, playing with one end to slowly tie it into a large knot. “I’m relieved your friend spoke up,” he finally said, and untied the knot, only to start another. “It would’ve been a darn shame for you to end up like your ol’ partner over there,” he mentioned, lazily nodding his head towards the then decaying interviewee.

“Unfortunately,” he undid another knot, dissatisfied with how the second attempt had turned out, continuing to say, “I’m not much one for loose ends,” he said, grinning softly at his own joke. With the thinly veiled threat, the pirate understood his position, and began slowly scampering towards the door, before getting to his feet. But, before the man could scream a warning to the songbird, he felt a sharp tightness around his throat, Sylvester having finally tied a knot he could live with, and that the pirate could not.

"Uhhhh...Hey boss! You might want to take a look at this!"

A moment was still required for a sure kill, and so Sylvester kept both him and the pirate quiet, leaving the bar silent, save for some gasps and small weeps from its patrons. Soon enough, the small flame in Sylvester’s hold was snuffed out, and the pirate was delicately laid to the floor, positioned by the cowboy as if he was merely resting.

“What’ve you found for us, Sideshow?” Sylvester asked as he descended the stairs, finding the basement’s contents apparent enough to answer his own question. After a glance across the room, what most immediately caught Sylvester’s eye was the blueprint held center on the table. Carefully, and in a fine pattern, he removed the stacks of beli from the table, even swapping stacks of bills to keep them all even in height as best he could. Doing so confirmed his first suspicion, that this blueprint, designated as “Charon,” was the very same ship that Rascal Stone and Uther Lance had been inspecting.

Turning around he asked the songbird, “I reckon that your captain looks to buy that boat for his cargo in those cages. Your own ship wasn’t enough?”

This time, he didn’t hesitate to answer, “I was never a fan of Rascal’s slaving! Neither were some revolutionaries! They caught wind of our vessel, and are waiting offshore to return these fine folks back from where they came. He got some old pal at Red Forest to cook him up that bastard of a boat. I swear, I always treated these people nicely, Timmy and I both did!” at the drop of that name he jerked his head upstairs, to Timmy’s corpse. “I’ll tell you anything you wanna know, all I want is to make it out of here!”

“When’s this trade off happen then, partner?” Sylvester asked, now turning his attention to the slaves, some of which were still pleading for escape, reaching their frighteningly thin arms through the slight gaps between iron.

Again, without missing a beat, the songbird responded, “Night after next. Fifth warehouse, seventh dock, the ship’s there right now.”

“And your captain?”

“Someplace safe,” the songbird said. “I swear, I don’t know! Him and that guy from Red Forest shack up somewhere secret and we spend our nights here. We’re not supposed to talk until the deal.”

“I believe you, simmer down, partner,” Sylvester assured him, returning to the blueprint. “Sideshow, I think I’ve got myself a plan. This deal here doesn’t happen if the Tight Noose doesn’t have any cargo to ship, no? Way I see it, both he and Lance will wanna keep those folks under lock and key,” he waved to the prisoners. “Two more X’s on our dear ol’ map. I say we knock one off, with these volunteer soldiers, then hold the third down, and let the word get back to the captain. We knock of some Under Station goons, and bolster our lil’ rodeo in case those hogs from Red Forest come knocking.”

Concluding his hastily assembled stratagem, Sylvester took a step closer to Klinghoffer and the songbird, saying, “Unless of course, you got a penny or two you wanna add.”

After Klinghoffer yelled out to Sylvester he took a good look at the captured people inside the cage, he peers in behind the thick evenly spaced iron bars to see over 50 alive people rotting away. Klinghoffer could only imagine the horrors each of these poor souls had seen, by the visual proof of exposed rib cages it was safe to assume that all these people were barely fed and were starving back there. His mind stopped racing for a second as Sylvester descended down the wooden steps and entered the room with a loud “What’ve you found for us, Sideshow?” and walked immediately over to the blueprints left on the table, Klinghoffer cleared his mind of dreadful thoughts and focused his brain power onto the job at hand. As Sylvester scanned the blueprints of the ship named "Charon", Klinghoffer pulled out a chair from the table, spun it around and sat himself down and got ready to listen for a while.

He sat patiently through the snitch's constant yelling as if he was a bird stuck in a cage screaming to get free and just as soon as Klinghoffer thought he was through the thick of it, the cowboy had a flash of brilliance and returned himself to the blueprints. Sylvester spoke his plan in great detail explaining how there is strength in numbers and with these people that we save, we could rush both Red Forest and Under Station. "Yeah! Now that is a plan i can get behind!" Klinghoffer exclaimed, bursting out of his chair. "We smoke out the leaders by taking out some goons and capturing their precious cargo, i'd say that underestimating that cargo is the worst decision and hopefully the last decision either of the two bosses will make." Klinghoffer spins his chair back around and pushes it back in the slams his hands down in the small wooden table, "It's a mighty fine idea and i reckon we should get started immediately" he says as he turns to the prisoners and pulls out a spare map and puts the X's on to it.

"I say we send you all to the second X, 'ForestStation', free the people there and take back what you are owed" Klinghoffer says confidently to the prisoners and pushes through the spare map. "Eh why not... We got nothing else to do! Right everyone?!" Says a small hyperactive female slave. At that moment, the prisoners that had no more flame left had gotten their fire rekindled in the blaze of hope that the Pirate Duo brought with them, Klinghoffer rips the cell key off of the snitch and undoes the lock on the cage. Before the prisoners can run, he holds up both of his hands and says "You do still all need to act like civilized beings, but as soon as you reach those doors... ALL OF YOU GO WILD!!" Klinghoffer yells as he pumps his fist in the air. The prisoners all in an extremely fast moving single file line ran up the stairs and out of the establishment, following the map they had just received, to the X's that held their fates like a ball and chain.

In a scene of horror, Sylvester Sweet watched dozens of escaped slaves rush up through the stairs and through the upstairs bar to do who knew what. It was unpredictable, they were messy, and every one of them felt as if they were on fire. Following their escape, Sylvester looked at Klinghoffer, who had pumped his fist to ignite those very flames in the people who were so recently dejected and downcast. It was that very guitarist who was the source of this revolting mess.

“That plan was far from perfect, Sideshow!” he immediately chastised the man, his fists clenching in a newfound rage. “And, you just let the most volatile factors roam free on this mad island!” His hands slapped down onto the blueprint, and his mind was running rampant with all of the possible messy outcomes that just became possible. Imaging each scenarios threatened to drive him mad. Halfway walking to the next ‘X’ they might lose steam and just escape. Or perhaps they’d get themselves killed and all leverage would be lost. Even worse, they could get themselves captured, in which case Stone and Lance would move to fortify their holdings rather than respond to the problem. There were any number of failures that could come about from this turn of events.

Fingers trembling with the idea of this chaos that Sylvester had inadvertently caused, he finally came to the only sensible conclusion. “We must abandon my plan,” he admitted, settling his breath and standing up straight. “Those slaves are free, they’re no longer a part of our rodeo. If they impede our progress then they’re a problem, any other actions can be ignored,” Sylvester said, moving back towards the stairwell.

He then decided on a new plan, “I can’t stand to be anywhere that mass of chaos may be visiting. We’re to head towards Slaughter Row and knock off the rustlers there. Then, we switch targets to the ship itself. The slaves were one kind of product, but as long as the boat falls apart, then there won’t be a deal of any kind, same story.”

But, before continuing up the stairwell, he jabbed a finger at Klinghoffer, “A cowboy with so little style as yourself has no business improvising, Sideshow! You wanna ride with me, we stick to the same wavelength! You got that, partner?”

Even as the words came out, Sylvester was surprised at himself. He expected to deliver a threat, or just a gunshot to both Klinghoffer and the songbird. But, for some reason, he felt like doing so was the wrong thing to do. He felt as if keeping the guitarist around was important for some unfathomable or illogical reason. There was no explanation, this guy was a loose end, yet Sylvester felt unable to just tie it down and put an end to it. And so, he just let the question hang in the air.