Chapter 69: Aokiji's Rescue
On the outskirts of Punk Hazard, near a G-5 branch warship.
"Is this the only one left?"
A tall man in a dark gray coat, round sunglasses, and a backpack slung over one shoulder surveyed the wreckage scattered across the harbor. The destruction the Straw Hats had wrought was staggering.
"The destructive power of those pirates... still terrifying."
On the warship, G-5 sailors caught sight of him—and froze.
"Th-that's...!"
"ADMIRAL KUZAN!!"
Kuzan raised two fingers in a lazy salute.
"Ah la la. Don't call me 'Admiral' anymore. I'm not with the Navy now."
He scratched his head.
"Anyway. Tell me—where is he? How badly is he hurt?"
"Admiral Kuzan—do you mean Admiral Borsalino?"
"Exactly." Kuzan nodded. "And pass a message to Vice Admiral Smoker for me. I'd wanted to chat about old times, but... plans changed. Your Admiral's pretty banged up."
"I'll report immediately—!"
Before the sailor could move, Kizaru himself emerged from the warship's cabin. Bandages covered most of his body beneath his Navy coat. He wore a fresh pair of sunglasses, wiping them clean before settling them on his nose.
He hopped down to the pier.
"Yo~ Aokiji."
His voice was its usual lazy drawl, but Kuzan noted the stiffness in his movements.
"What brings you here?"
"Just passing through." Kuzan's eyes swept over Kizaru's injuries—a thorough catalog of damage. "You know, since we joined the Navy... this is the first time I've seen you this messed up."
Kizaru laughed—that same languid sound, but his eyes behind the sunglasses remained sharp.
"Truly unexpected. I never thought I'd need light-particle recombination three times in one battle."
He flexed bandaged fingers.
"That boy with the tear troughs... he nearly killed this old man."
"And you nearly killed him, didn't you?" Kuzan's tone was light, but his observation was precise. "Your Pika Pika no Mi didn't seem very effective against him."
Kizaru's expression flickered.
"You saw the battle?"
"Every moment. You pushed harder today than you did at Marineford."
He let that sink in.
"Do the Straw Hats already possess Admiral-level combat power?"
The two former comrades regarded each other in silence.
Then Kuzan asked: "Do you know where that man comes from?"
"No." Kizaru shook his head. "Smoker of G-5 asked the Straw Hat captain before they fled. His name is Uchiha Itachi."
"Uchiha Itachi." Kuzan repeated the name slowly.
He shrugged.
"Perhaps we should be grateful someone like him isn't serving one of the ambitious Emperors. The Straw Hats are troublemakers, yes—but they have no interest in ruling the New World."
"Like you, serving Blackbeard?"
Kizaru's question hung in the air—weighted, deliberate.
Another silence.
Then both men laughed—a strange, shared sound between former comrades now on opposite sides.
When the laughter faded, Kuzan's eyes had gone cold as ice.
"Don't forget our purpose. Comrade."
The amusement drained from Kizaru's expression. He said nothing—simply smiled that unreadable smile.
Kuzan rummaged through his pockets, producing a sealed envelope.
"This is a letter for Sakazuki. Consider it a suggestion—take it or leave it."
He held it out.
"It concerns one of the former Warlords. Donquixote Doflamingo. The king of Dressrosa."
Kizaru's eyebrow rose behind his sunglasses. He accepted the envelope, turning it over in his bandaged fingers.
"Oh?"
Three Days Later — An Island 500 Kilometers from Punk Hazard
In a small hospital on a quiet island town, an elderly doctor patted Law's shoulder. The surgeon sat slumped in a corner chair, dozing fitfully.
"Young man. Go rest. You've been guarding for three days and nights."
Law stirred, blinking. When he saw the old doctor, he shook his head.
"No. I'll stay with him."
His voice was hoarse with exhaustion.
"Your providing medical facilities is already more than I could ask for."
The old doctor chuckled warmly.
"Don't say that, young man. That surgery you performed—the precision of your scalpel work—I've never seen its equal. To witness such skill... my life is complete."
As they spoke, Itachi stirred on the hospital bed. His body tried to sit up—consciousness returning.
Law moved quickly, gently pressing him back down.
"Don't move yet, Master Itachi. Your injuries are severe. You can't leave bed."
Itachi's voice emerged, rough but steady.
"I'm alive?"
He touched his face—bandages covered his eyes.
Law nodded.
"Fortunate, against all odds. Your crimson armor was fading, but it still blocked most of Kizaru's lasers. Only three pierced your body. One missed your heart by less than three centimeters."
He leaned back, relief evident in his posture.
"But don't worry. I'm a doctor. Your injuries are properly treated."
"Thank you." Itachi's nod was slight but sincere. "Without you, I would have died on that island."
Law shook his head.
"It wasn't just me. We had help escaping."
"Who?"
"Aokiji. The former Admiral."
Law recounted what had happened after Itachi lost consciousness.
When Itachi and Kizaru had exchanged their final blows, both had fallen. Law had moved to rescue Itachi—but Marines had already surrounded him. Itachi had been seized.
Then—Aokiji appeared.
He'd frozen the warships in the harbor. Frozen every Marine in reach. Created an opening.
Law had used that opening to escape Punk Hazard with Itachi.
Outside the island, Luffy and the others had already destroyed the surrounding G-5 warships. Law had contacted them—but just as the Sunny prepared to enter his Room's range, the vanguard of Navy Headquarters warships arrived.
Law had only one choice: tell Luffy to proceed to their next rendezvous point while he and Itachi escaped separately, using a备用 boat Law knew was hidden on Punk Hazard's opposite end.
But when they reached the southernmost tip of the island's frozen zone—more warships. Encircling them.
Desperate, cornered—
Two large pirate ships appeared.
They'd rammed through the Navy blockade, sacrificing one ship to create an opening, and rescued Law and Itachi.
"That group—they're still anchored outside this island." Law's voice carried a note of wonder. "They call you their god. Said you saved them on Fishman Island."
He rubbed his tired eyes.
"To avoid disturbing the islanders, I... took the liberty of ordering them to wait at port. I hope you don't mind."
Itachi absorbed this in silence.
"So much happened after I fell."
But as he sighed, something shifted inside him.
His eyes—beneath the bandages—burned.
What...?
The familiar ache of depleted pupil power was gone. In its place—something new. Something more.
His Mangekyō Sharingan.
It had changed.
(End of Chapter)
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