Basil Hawkins, Urouge the Mad Monk, and Scratchmen Apoo lived up to their reputations. As members of the Worst Generation who had fought their way through the chaotic waters of the Four Blues and survived the first half of the Grand Line, their innate talent was undeniably outstanding. Similarly, Blueno and Kalifa, having been trained as elite assassins of CP9, possessed a disciplined aptitude for combat that could not be underestimated.
Under Kaido's brutal, hands-on guidance, these talented individuals had achieved terrifying results. In just one month, they had successfully awakened two types of Haki.
As for X Drake and Monet, they were a step ahead. Both had awakened Haki long before joining the Beasts Pirates. However, this month was not wasted on them. They focused on refining their devil fruit abilities. The potential of Drake's Ancient Zoan and Monet's Logia powers allowed them to perform exceptionally well, pushing their physical and elemental limits to new heights.
The remaining group—the original captains selected from the rank-and-file of the Beasts Pirates—were naturally the weakest link. Their raw talent was higher than the average pirate, sure, but it was not "generational" like the Supernovas. They were ordinary men trying to stand among monsters.
Fortunately, Kaido had bestowed upon them the gift of Artificial Devil Fruits. This power offered them a rare chance to "leap through the dragon's gate" and ascend to a higher tier of strength. Driven by a fanatical reverence for their Governor and the fear of being left behind, they trained with desperate diligence. There was no slack in their efforts. By the end of the month, every single one of them had awakened at least one type of Haki.
The results were specific and promising. Babanuki, Scotch, Dopon, Holdem, Silla, and Bru Killey had successfully manifested Armament Haki, hardening their bodies for heavy combat. Meanwhile, Hoko and Solitaire had unlocked Observation Haki, heightening their senses to survive the chaos of the New World.
Overall, as Kaido looked down at his bruised and battered subordinates, he felt a surge of satisfaction. The progress made in a mere thirty days was acceptable.
Seeing the young captains bowing their heads in humility, waiting for his judgment, Kaido interrupted the silence. His voice boomed like thunder.
"Alright! I won't waste breath on unnecessary words. You have survived, and that is what matters. As a reward for your hard training this past month, I will now grant each of the thirteen captains—including you, Urouge—one additional Artificial Devil Fruit."
Upon hearing this, the faces of the thirteen captains and the Mad Monk lit up with incredible joy. To receive a fruit was a high honor; to receive a second one to distribute was a grant of power. They looked up at Kaido with feverish reverence, shouting in unison.
"Thank you, Lord Kaido!"
"Hmm," Kaido grunted, a pleased smirk crossing his face. "You may dispose of this Artificial Devil Fruit however you see fit. Reward it to a subordinate you trust, or use it to bargain. But there is one absolute condition: the fruit must not leave the Beasts Pirates. Do you understand?"
Everyone nodded emphatically. Behind their eyes, gears were already turning. This reward was more than just a power-up; it was political currency. By gifting a fruit to a trusted subordinate, they could cultivate their own loyal factions within the massive structure of the crew.
Kaido didn't care about their internal politics. In fact, he encouraged it. Competition bred strength, and as long as their ultimate loyalty lay with him and their goals remained aligned with the crew's ambition, he welcomed the rivalry.
"Alright," Kaido continued, hoisting his kanabo onto his shoulder. "The month of training is over. As captains, you must now focus on your duties. However, do not think this means you can relax. Never forget what I told you: the position of captain is not fixed. It is not a birthright. If someone challenges you and you lose, you will be stripped of your rank. I hope you don't let the training I gave you go to waste. Do you understand!"
Hearing Kaido's stern warning, the atmosphere tightened. The captains felt a chill run down their spines, but fear quickly gave way to resolve. They had walked through hell for a month; they wouldn't give up their seats easily.
"Don't worry, Lord Kaido! We won't disappoint you!"
"Very good! Now, listen up. Besides the tasks I've already assigned, I have a new mission for you. You are to head out into the Grand Line. Do not just patrol our territory. I want you to spread the name of the Beasts Pirates to every corner of the sea. Let the other pirates, the Marines, the nations, and the World Government know that we are coming. King will brief you on the specifics. Can you do it?"
"No problem, Lord Kaido!"
"Leave it to us, Governor Kaido!"
The sheer volume of their shouts shook the air. Kaido nodded, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Very good. Go back and rest. Recover your strength. Five days from now, the Oni Squad sets sail!"
With the return of the thirteen captains, the closed nation of Wano Country suddenly burst into activity. The atmosphere was electric.
Under the strict and efficient command of King the Conflagration, the machinery of war began to turn. The captains moved quickly to complete the recruitment for their respective divisions.
According to Kaido's structural design, each unit of the "Oni Squad" was led by two captains—one main and one vice-captain—supported by three Shinuchi (Headliners).
The scale was massive. Each of the three Shinuchi was authorized to lead a force of at least 1,000 men. Mathematically, this meant a single division would command a minimum of 3,000 subordinates. With thirteen divisions mobilizing simultaneously, the Beasts Pirates were preparing to move over 30,000 soldiers and more than twenty warships.
It was an ambitious logistical nightmare. Even with the Beasts Pirates' rapid development and the industrial might of Wano, they couldn't immediately produce that many trained soldiers and seaworthy vessels. The All-Stars and the Tobi Roppo also required significant manpower for their own fleets, further stretching resources.
To compromise, Kaido ordered a temporary reduction in force. The number of subordinates led by the Shinuchi was halved, with the understanding that the ranks would be replenished gradually over time. Only through this adjustment did they manage to gather enough personnel and ships for the thirteen captains to launch.
Even with the reduced numbers, the sight was awe-inspiring. Five days later, a fleet of nearly twenty-three pirate ships of various sizes raised their anchors. As they departed the turbulent waters of Wano Country, the sheer scale of the fleet seemed to shake the ocean itself.
After more than a month of silence, the Beasts Pirates were once again stirring the winds and clouds of the Grand Line.
Meanwhile, in the New World.
On an unnamed, ancient island, the air was thick with tension.
Five uniquely shaped pirate ships were docked haphazardly by the rocky shore. If a Marine historian were present, they would immediately recognize the distinct aesthetic of the ships—they bore the signature style of the fallen criminal syndicate, Baroque Works.
On the edge of the shoreline, a group of agents stood nervously. Led by the stoic Daz Bonez, formerly known as Mr. 1, they stared toward the dense center of the island. Their expressions were a mix of anxiety and dread.
BOOM!
Suddenly, a violent explosion tore through the silence.
The ground shuddered violently, cracks spider-webbing across the rocky terrain as if a localized earthquake had struck. The force of the impact sent shockwaves out to sea, causing the waves to churn and crash against the hulls of the docked ships.
A black speck was launched from the center of the island like a cannonball. As it hurtled closer, the agents realized with horror that it was a person.
It was their boss, Sir Crocodile.
The former Warlord flew uncontrollably through the air, crashing directly through the mast and deck of one of the docked ships.
CRASH!
The pirate ship groaned under the impact, wood shattering into splinters, before the vessel began to list and sink into the churning sea.
Moments later, a swirling cloud of sand erupted from the wreckage. It flew to the solid ground of the shore, coalescing into the human form of Crocodile. He looked nothing like his usual composed self.
He was utterly disheveled. Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead, his expensive coat was shredded, and his face was twisted into a grimace of pain and rage.
Seeing their leader in such a state, the surrounding agents didn't dare to step forward. They froze, their terrified gazes shifting slowly toward the dark tree line of the forest.
Thump... Thump... Thump...
Heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed from the shadows. The sound was accompanied by the snapping of timber as trees were knocked over like matchsticks.
Under the terrified gaze of the Baroque Works agents, a massive figure emerged. He was a burly man dressed in a military uniform, his presence radiating an overwhelming aura of arrogance and disdain.
"Hey, hey... Crocodile," the man rumbled, his voice deep and mocking. "You're really pathetically weak now."
Although Crocodile was injured, his pride remained intact. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his golden hook, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Douglas Bullet," Crocodile spat the name. "You too. It seems being locked up in the darker levels of Impel Down for so long has caused your body to rust."
The man was indeed Douglas Bullet, the "Demon Heir," a monster who had escaped from Level 6 of Impel Down during the chaos of the war.
"Hahahaha!" Bullet laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Your mouth is still as tough as ever, Crocodile. Too bad your strength doesn't match it. You're too weak. I'm no longer interested in you."
Bullet turned his head, looking out toward the horizon of the Grand Line. His expression shifted from mockery to profound disappointment.
"I really didn't expect this," Bullet muttered, shaking his head. "After being locked away for so many years... the outside world has become so ugly. So frail. It's truly disappointing."
Dismissing Crocodile entirely, Bullet began to walk away, heading toward the shore as if he intended to leave the island immediately.
Crocodile's face darkened. Bullet had tracked him down solely to beat him up, and now he was leaving out of boredom? It was an insult he couldn't abide. However, as his anger flared, a thought struck him. A glint of cunning flashed in his predatory eyes.
"Hey, wait," Crocodile called out.
Bullet stopped mid-step. He turned around slowly, a dangerous, suffocating pressure emanating from his body.
"What?" Bullet growled. "Are you not convinced yet, Crocodile? Do you want to die?"
"Tch."
Crocodile scoffed, but a confident smirk returned to his face. He glanced sideways at Daz Bonez and gave a subtle nod.
Mr. 1 was startled for a moment, but he quickly understood the order. He scrambled toward one of the remaining ships, disappearing below deck. Moments later, he returned, breathless, carrying two heavy black boxes.
"After all, we are old friends," Crocodile said smoothly, gesturing to the boxes. "Considering you've been locked up in the dark for so long, I'll give you these two things. Perhaps they can help an old relic like you understand how the New World works now..."
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