16 Hours Ago…
An hour had passed since Luffy and Zoro set sail from Shells Town. Throughout the streets, local townspeople worked alongside lower-ranking Marines to clear away the shattered timber and heavy stone debris left behind by the battle against Axe-Hand Morgan. Outside, the midday sun beat down relentlessly. At the heart of the town, a wooden stage was being built by Marines, as it only needed a polish. Then, Ripper, wearing the white justice coat, arrived, along with Founer. In front of them were hundreds of Marines; their arms and feet were shackled by metal cuffs.
Ripper adjusts his coat and clears his throat as his booming voice echoes through the empty streets.
"As the new Captain of the Marine branch, I will declare all of the officers of the Marines who have assisted Morgan's tyranny for years... The crimes all you have committed, such as corruption, Unlawful confiscation and taxation, and many more." The mere mention of the word "crimes" straightens the prisoners' hairs; fear has struck them like a plague.
"For that, with the help of my vice commander Founer, I will declare you to serve under the Shells Town Penitentiary for thirty years..." The order shook the prisoners to their core. Some started to cry, some froze and turned like statues, while some hollered in anger and disdain.
"... Only if you pay the price have you taken for the people. To lower your sentences, everything you obtain illegally under Morgan's rule will be confiscated, you will help the rebuilding of our Marine base, and improve our town." The townspeople hollered, as the town was full of them. Suddenly, a young recruit came running into the town street and onto the stage. He quickly lowered his head and whisper at ripper's ear. "Captain! Vice Admiral Garp has arrived!"
At the pier of the town, the Marines are still loading the confiscated goods as the visiting merchants and shell importers are talking about the incident that happened hours ago; a towering shadow eclipses the harbor, along with the nearby houses. A large dog head perched in front as the large MARINE etched to its sail.
"Welcome to Shells Town!" Women and children, wearing pristine white cloathes along as the claps of their shell ornaments clang into the air as flowers and shell powder erupted into the air. Standing at the center, towering everyone, is Vice Admiral Garp, along him, wearing a brown suit along with the same color for his top hat, is Bogart. His blade swung to his hips; his eyes darted through the streets like a predator hunting for other predators. Suddenly, Rika and other children came running in front of the two. Their hands stretched as baskets of rice balls and fried dough were in front of the two. Garp slowly lowered his body, as his grey hair swept across the three; his smile widened with joy. "Thanks!" as he quickly grabbed the basket, breaking it in half as the dozens of rice balls fell into his mouth.
Rika's eyes flashed with happiness and admiration, clasping the broken basket as she came running to the streets. Garp then stopped, pointing to the fried dough in front of him. "Thanks! Hey, Rod, take the food into the ship! We will eat that after!" One Marine saluted as he quickly picked up the food and bowed to the children.
Meanwhile, at the remaining towers erected on the Marine base, Koby, now wearing his own sleeved Marine uniform, mopped across the polished stone floor—the exact hallway where Luffy and Nami had briefly crossed paths earlier that morning. Around him, dozens of recruits were busily hauling heavy supply crates, clearing racks of naval rifles, and carefully rolling away massive, crimson-painted cannonballs left in the garrison's armory. "Sir, where should we store these?" a young Marine asked, emerging from a side corridor with an armful of confiscated weapons.
A senior officer gestured toward the main gates. "Take them directly to the courtyard! We're staging all confiscated munitions for naval transport." Coby leaned on his mop handle, watching the bustle with a faint, fond smile. His mind drifted back to the energetic boy in the straw hat who had changed the trajectory of his life forever. Luffy... I'll catch up to you one day. I swear it.
Suddenly, a frantic scream shattered the routine silence of the corridor, echoing off the high stone arches: "CAPTAIN RIPPER AND VICE ADMIRAL GARP ARE IN THE BASE!"
Every officer and recruit froze in place. Mops hit the floor, heavy crates clattered against the flagstones, and a collective gasp rippled through the ranks. From the shadow of the main archway, a towering figure stepped into the light. The massive man moved with a heavy, deliberate stride, his pristine white Marine coat draping over his broad shoulders like a banner, the word JUSTICE embroidered across the back. His thick leather boots clanged against the stone floor; each step jolted different people. Sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows caught the edge of his silver hair.
Walking half a step behind him was Bogard, a man wearing a dark top hat and a tailored suit, one hand resting casually on the hilt of his katana. Coby stared in absolute awe, his entire body convulsing in a chaotic mixture of terror and reverence. T-That's him... The Hero of the Marines!
Vice Admiral Garp stomped directly into the center of the corridor. His broad shoulders seemed to cut through the suffocating tension in the room like a warship slicing through calm harbor water. Stopping beside a neatly stacked pile of confiscated explosives, Garp leaned his massive weight against a crate.
"V-Vice Admiral, please be careful! Those are live explosives!" a young recruit stammered, raising his hands in panic. Garp ignored the warning completely. Reaching down, he effortlessly scooped up one of the heavy iron Buggy Balls with a single hand, palming it like an apple. He turned the bright red sphere over, inspecting the grinning skull emblem painted across its surface before a wide, amused grin broke over his scarred face.
"That damn kid..." Garp chuckled under his breath, tossing the explosive cannonball casually into the air and catching it like a toy. "Reckless fools everywhere you look these days." Behind him, Bogard stepped smoothly past the trembling recruits and slipped into Morgan's private quarters. He paid no attention to the oversized portraits of the tyrant lining the entrance. Instead, the swordsman drew his katana just an inch from its scabbard, using the polished steel pommel to tap along the expensive mahogany paneling.
Thump. Thump. Stopping before a grand portrait depicting Morgan seated like a king upon a golden throne, Bogard fluidly unsheathed his blade and drove the steel straight through the wooden seam. The sharp tip jammed directly into the internal locking mechanism, shattering the tumblers so the hidden vault could be opened without a key. With a swift pry from his boot, the hidden door swung open on creaking hinges.
Inside the safe, Bogard ran a gloved finger along the dusty steel shelves, noting the empty felt lining and the single stack of berry papers. Stepping back into the main hallway, he approached Garp, who was currently peering out of an arched stone window. "I found a concealed vault, Vice Admiral," Bogard reported quietly. "Someone cleared out the primary contents recently."
Before Garp could answer, a chorus of terrified screams and a volley of sharp rifle fire shattered the quiet outside the fortress walls. Garp instantly raised a single hand, holding Bogard in place. "Stay here," the Vice Admiral growled.
"C'MON!" Ripper screamed, waving his hand into the air, as marines quickly put down their things on the floor and slung their rifles and swords. Before everyone could pass and reach the stairs, Garp vaulted out the open window, dropping fifty feet to the stone courtyard below. The ground cracked beneath his boots upon impact, kicking up a ring of dust, but he didn't pause for a fraction of a second. Turning toward the forest trail, Garp exploded into a sprint. His sheer speed was akin to a bolt of lightning, blurring past the trees and reaching the waterfront in under thirty seconds.
Standing near the docks, shrapnel of broken metal and concrete chunks spewed through the air. Thousands of marines raised their guns up into the air. Standing in front of the edge where the town and the dock kiss was a blood-soaked, half-crazed Axe-Hand Morgan. His body was covered with red-soaked bandages; his giant gauntlet axe was back in his hand. His side was a broken crate with the label: PROPERTY OF HENRY MORGAN - DO NOT OPEN. In front of him is his son. His head is covered in bandages.
"Get back, you dogs!" Morgan bellowed, his jaw locked in as his bloodshot eyes were wild with cornered desperation. "I built this base! I protected every single one of you ungrateful peasants! And this is how you repay me?!" Garp stepped out from the treeline, his arms folded loosely over his broad chest as he approached the disgraced captain. A tense murmur washed through the crowd of townspeople and terrified Marine officers alike.
"Stand down, Morgan," Garp said, his deep voice carrying over the sound of the ocean waves. "It's over."
"Vice Admiral Garp..." Morgan spat, his eyes widening in shock before twisting into pure rage. Pointing his massive steel battle-axe directly at the old man, he sneered, "If you step your feet forward, I will kill this boy!"
"Lower that weapon, Morgan," Garp replied plainly, his dark eyes fixing the tyrant with profound disappointment. "Everything you've built has ended. This branch isn't yours anymore. So, cooperate like a civilized former official of the law..."
"BULLSHIT!" Morgan lunged forward, leaping into the air and swinging his massive battle-axe downward toward Garp's head with every ounce of his remaining strength.
CLANG! The heavy iron blade slammed directly into the side of Garp's bare neck. Morgan's eyes bulged in horror as the steel axe shattered into a hundred flying shards upon impact, spraying scrap metal across the dock. Garp hadn't even flinched. The Vice Admiral merely turned his head, his dark gaze locking onto Morgan with a suffocating, crushing weight that paralyzed the disgraced captain where he stood.
Panicking as the reality hit him, Morgan grabbed the limp, bandaged frame of Helmeppo. Using his own son as a human shield, Morgan dragged the boy onto a small fishing dinghy tied to the pier, cut the thick ropes with his broken arm, and pushed out into the deep water.
"Open fire!" a Marine officer shouted, raising his pistol.
"Shoot, and you kill the boy!" Morgan roared, lifting Helmeppo's head like a puppet to block the line of sight. The officers hesitated, their weapons wavering as the small vessel caught the current and began floating rapidly into the open sea.
"Vice Admiral! Why didn't you stop him?!" an officer yelled frantically, turning toward Garp. Garp didn't answer. He simply stood at the edge of the pier, his white coat billowing in the sea wind as he watched the boat retreat. Standing at the back of the crowd, Coby stared at the fleeing vessel with wide, horrified eyes. While the other recruits shouted in confusion, Coby's gaze remained locked on Helmeppo's terrified frame, trapped helplessly in his father's iron grip.
Coby's chest heaved as vivid memories from hours earlier flooded back. He remembered the dark woods, watching Helmeppo stumble out from the shadows with a jagged branch protruding straight from his ruined right eye socket, bleeding out and driven into a concussed, desperate panic. Despite the boy's arrogance and cruelty, Coby knew the truth—Helmeppo was ultimately just a terrified child, ruined by a monster of a father. Breaking away from the crowd of officers, Coby sprinted toward the rocky shoreline where a small wooden rowboat was tied to a mooring post.
"RECRUIT! GET BACK HERE!" the base captain screamed, waving his arm. Coby ignored the order entirely. His hands shook with raw adrenaline as he worked feverishly to untie the wet hemp rope from the wooden post.
"I have to save him..." Coby whispered to himself, his knuckles turning white as he yanked the final knot loose. Driven by a burning resolve to save Helmeppo from Morgan's clutches and give him a real chance at redemption, Coby pushed the rowboat into the churning surf, stepping inside and taking the oars, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
Meanwhile…
Hours after the Orange Town fight, Luffy and Zoro sat aboard their small, drifting vessel. Luffy leaned back against the gunwale, his eyes darting from one constellation to another across the pitch-black sky. "Hey… why are there only a few stars out tonight?" Luffy pointed toward a faint speck in the distance.
Zoro paused mid-swing at the edge of the boat, the cool night air passing over his sweat-sheened torso. "I don't know… maybe space is cloudy?" He resumed his rhythm, cutting through the dark with sharp, deliberate strikes. Sweat dripped onto the dry floorboards with every grunt.
"What are you doing?" Luffy asked.
"Practicing," Zoro grunted, not breaking form.
"Why?"
"What do you mean, why?!" Zoro stopped, shooting Luffy an annoyed glare. "Haven't you ever practiced in your life?"
"Hmm… I don't know, I forgot," Luffy said, rubbing his chin.
Zoro let out a long exhale and lowered his arm. "Practicing is how you sharpen your skill so you can actually fight."
"What's a skill?"
"ARE YOU REALLY THAT IDIOTIC?!" Zoro roared. He closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Look… skill is like a sword. If you don't use it, it gets covered in filth. And being filthy is worse than being dull."
"What about getting rusty? Or just breaking?"
Zoro went quiet, his eyes dropping to the white hilt of the Wado Ichimonji in his grip.
"That's why you sharpen it, clean it, and protect it as long as you're still breathing," Zoro said quietly, sliding the blade back into its scabbard with a soft click. "Skills work the same way. No matter how strong you think you are, if you don't hone what you have, you're just a big rock waiting for someone to split you in half." Zoro reached into his side, pulled out a second sword wrapped in dark cloth, and tossed it into Luffy's lap.
"What's this?" Luffy asked, unwrapping the dark violet hilt and admiring the sleek, charcoal-black scabbard.
"A sword I took off a guy," Zoro said, walking over to sit beside him. "I was resting on some random island when this creep came up, saying his boss wanted me to join their little outfit. Baroque Works, or something like that. When he wouldn't take no for an answer… I cut him in half."
Luffy gasped. "Whoa! So you're a thief and a killer!"
"I'm not a thief, you moron!" Zoro growled. "It's a tradition among bounty hunters to take a fallen opponent's weapon as a mark of respect. That sword belonged to him."
Luffy lifted the weapon, his eyes gleaming as his fingers tightened around the sheath. "Whoa! This stick is so cool!" He gave it a wild, sweeping swing through the air.
"DON'T SWING IT LIKE THAT, YOU IDI—"
Before Zoro could finish, the loose scabbard slipped off the blade, flying over the side and splashing directly into the dark ocean. Zoro slammed his fist onto Luffy's head, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him furiously. "I SAID DON'T SWING IT, YOU ABSOLUTE MORON! GO GET IT! NOW!"
"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!" Luffy stretched his arm out over the water, snagging his floating scabbard from the waves. "GOT IT!"
Luffy flopped backward onto the wooden floorboards with a heavy sigh, staring up at the clear sky, while Zoro resumed his rhythmic sword swings nearby. For several minutes, the only sound between them was the gentle creak of the hull and the steady swoosh of steel cutting through the salt air.
"Hey, Zoro?" Luffy's voice dropped, stripped of its usual loud energy. He pulled his straw hat off his head and stared down at the weathered woven straw.
"What?" Zoro grunted without breaking his form.
"Back in Orange Town... I was thinking. Being a pirate is... hard." Luffy's fingers tightened around the brim, creasing the edges. "Shanks told me to become a great pirate, but... I almost got you killed. I wasn't strong enough." Zoro stopped his swing mid-air. He lowered his arm, turning an unblinking glare down at the kid lying on the deck.
"If you're gonna cry about it, drop the hat and go home," Zoro said, his voice flat and brutally sharp. Luffy blinked, looking up in silence.
"What did you think this was?" Zoro continued, stepping closer until his boots rested right beside Luffy's head. "You thought being a pirate was just eating meat, stealing gold, saving a town from its evil king like a goddamn fairy tale? Sailing around having fun? It's not a game. Out here, people die. You get stabbed, you bleed out, and one day you don't wake up."
Zoro unsheathed the Wado Ichimonji, the polished steel reflecting the glaring sun.
"We almost died in the weakest sea in the world because you ran in without a plan," Zoro spat, his tone harsh, almost angry. "If a circus clown almost put you in the dirt, you're not ready for what's waiting past the Grand Line. This ocean is crawling with real monsters."
He turned on his heel, walking toward the bow of the boat and resting his hand on the railing as he looked out at the horizon.
"So stop whining about not being strong enough," Zoro grunted over his shoulder, his voice dropping into a low growl. "Either become a bigger monster than all of them... or get off the ship."
While the two were at the stern, Nami stood at the front of the boat, peering through her stretched brass spyglass into the pitch-black horizon. She ignored their shouting, slowly scanning the cold, open water until something unusual cut through the lens. A giant, towering ship appeared in the distance. As the two in the back were still fighting, the massive ship jolted back into their stance; above, a bunch of people were lifting crates and looking at them as the ship passed through.
"What was that?!" Luffy gasped as Zoro stepped onward, analyzing the people who were looking at them earlier and the ship's appearance. "Just a merchant's ship"
"We're close to an island!" Nami called out from inside the cabin, her voice sharp against the rhythm of the rolling waves. Leaving Luffy to stare open-mouthed at the fading wake of the merchant ship, Zoro turned on his heel and sauntered toward the cabin entrance. He ducked his head under the low wooden doorframe, stepping inside the cramped, shadow-draped quarters. Nami was huddled over the boat's wheel. As Zoro surveyed the space, his eye locked onto the three-foot-tall sack, the same heavy bag he had spotted back in Orange Town. He glanced toward the doorway, then shifted his gaze back to Nami. "That's a lot of weight for a little boat," Zoro said, his voice low and raspy in the quiet cabin. "Where'd you plan on spending all that?"
Nami didn't look away from the compass. Her position instinctively shifted, her body stepping slightly in front of the pile to block his view. "You wouldn't understand."
"Yeah, right," Zoro continued, ignoring her dismissive tone. His dark eyes fixed on her with a heavy, unblinking focus. "I've run into plenty of petty thieves across the East Blue. Most steal for booze, a meal, or a bigger ship. But you..." He tilted his head, his tone dropping sharply. "...you hoard it like your life depends on it. Every thief I've met has a goal. What's yours?"
The air in the tiny cabin grew thick, suffocatingly quiet. The only sound was the creaking of the hull's floorboards and the distant rhythm of the ocean outside. Nami's shoulders tensed. Her fingers tightened against the wooden wheel. "I told you," she whispered, "it's none of your business."
Zoro let out a low chuckle as he turned to walk out, but Luffy came charging in and slammed right into Zoro's shoulder. "Hey, watch where you're going!"
Inside, Luffy barged in and stared straight at Nami. "HEY! ARE WE THERE YET?!
Nami let out a long, quiet breath, the heavy tension melting out of her shoulders as she quickly turned back to her desk, hiding the sudden rush of relief on her face. She smoothed out her sea chart with a sharp tap of her fingers. "If my calculations are right," Nami said, her sharp, business-like tone returning as if nothing had happened, "we're drifting toward the Gecko Islands. Specifically... a place called Syrup Village."