On the deck of the Beatrice, I stared out at the bubble-filled horizon of Sabaody, trying to figure out how to minimize the damage caused by the Celestial Dragons.
In a perfect world, I'd just remove them. But it's not that simple. They come here to buy slaves; you can't just "suggest" they shop elsewhere.
They are the apex of the world's hierarchy, and we in the Navy are essentially their errand boys. Try to move against them, and the World Government would physically erase you before you could blink.
If "that plan" goes well, maybe the body count will drop... but that's a big 'if'.
"Maybe I should just look into assassination..." I muttered.
"Whoa, Captain! Don't say such terrifying things so casually!" Lieutenant Rapanui interjected, looking slightly pale.
"Ah, sorry. Sabaody just puts me in a dark headspace. What is it? Something urgent?"
"Yes, sir. An emergency summons from Admiral Sengoku. He's waiting in the communications room."
An emergency call from the top brass? This never ends well. And as expected, the "Dull Bear" was about to have his face twisted into a grimace by the sheer weight of the task ahead.
A Clash of Monsters
A few days later, I was on a nameless island, locked in a brutal duel with a giant of a man.
I was wielding my mace, muscles bulging under my armor. My opponent was empty-handed, but his fists were coated in an obsidian-black Haki so dense it felt like being hit by a falling building.
As he brought a heavy downward strike toward me, I raised my iron mace, Gungnir No. 2, to block it horizontally.
CRACK.
"NOOOO! My Gungnir No. 2!!"
The iron mace was snapped clean in half, dismantled as if it were made of balsa wood. I stared at the fragments in my hands, crying internally. This mission is way too much!
It all started when Sengoku ordered the capture of a certain pirate. The target: Douglas Bullet.
The Navy had been engaging him for over twenty-four hours with multiple units, but they couldn't land a decisive blow.
They were even considering a Buster Call. (I thought the Buster Call was only used on Ohara and Enies Lobby in the original story? Maybe this was a "deleted scene," or I just forgot it.)
Bullet was a former member of the Roger Pirates and the man behind the "Horrors of Gartzburg." Since Roger's death, he had been indiscriminately attacking the Navy, pirates, and Government alike.
Because his "Clank-Clank" ability makes weapons a liability, I'd left my prototype gear behind—but I didn't think he'd snap my favorite mace with raw Haki.
I really should have practiced imbuing Haki into my weapons more...
"Not done yet!"Bullet roared, lunging forward.
I caught his fist with both arms, the impact driving my feet inches into the dirt. "Give me a second to think, you muscle freak!"
I slammed a heavy kick into his shin and thigh, forcing him to stumble. I quickly leaped back.
"Kodachi! Daidan! Kama-itachi!!" (Small Blade, Great Blade, Sickle-Wind)
I unleashed a triple-barreled barrage of air-pressure blades from my arms, sending Bullet sliding backward. He stood there, his military-style clothes in tatters, grinning like a madman.
"Fuhahaha! Good! Keep it coming, Marine!!"
I hate battle junkies.
His eyes were as sharp as Hawkeye's, his expression so ferocious it would make a crying child faint. He stripped off his tattered jacket and walked toward me with a calm, terrifying gait. The fact that he hadn't even started using his Devil Fruit ability yet was demoralizing.
But I had a job to do. I was the rear guard, stalling him so the allied forces could fully evacuate.
I met his heavy fists head-on with my own Haki-clad knuckles. Did I offend someone in the upper brass to get this solo assignment?
For the next few minutes, it was a pure slugfest. No technique, just raw power.
THWACK.Bullet punched me. I took it on the chin and wobbled. "This isn't fun, you muscle ghost!" I shouted, punching him back. He took it square in the chest and grunted.
Just as we were about to go for another round...
Purupurupurupuru...
The Den Den Mushi in my pouch let out its silly little ring. "Wait a sec!" I yelled, crossing my arms to block Barrett's incoming fist. I felt the shockwave travel down to my heels, but I ignored it.
"Krieg!! Get out of there in five minutes! After that, we start the Buster Call!!" Sengoku's voice barked before the line went dead.
"Hey, Douglas Bullet," I said, looking at him while he was still in mid-swing. To his credit, he actually stopped and waited.
"What is it, Marine?"
"A Buster Call is coming. Right now."
"Hmph... the Navy's greatest show of force? Fine! I'll take it head-on!"
"Right. Well, I'd rather not get turned into ash, so do you mind if I leave?"
I figured it was worth a shot.
"Tch. I finally found a worthy opponent... Fine. But swear this to me: I will survive this, and I will find you again. When I do, you will fight me once more!"
I expected him to keep swinging, but he actually accepted my departure on the condition of a future rematch. He probably won't survive a Buster Call anyway, I thought, but I'll take the out.
"Fine. I swear. If you survive, we'll finish this."
"Marine... what is your name?"
"Krieg. Don Krieg. Captain of the Navy."
"Don Krieg... I will remember that. Until we meet again..."
Bullet picked up his coat and walked toward the shoreline where the warships were visible. I took a second to offer a quick prayer for his soul—then realized I had less than four minutes to reach the extraction point and started sprinting as my life depended on it.
In the end, Bullet survived the bombardment but was finally taken down by a desperate surge of pirates he'd beaten earlier. He was sent to Impel Down.
I was shocked he survived, but I figured that was the end of it. No one escapes Impel Down, right?
Blackbeard... Level 6... Breakout...
The words flashed in my mind like a neon warning sign. I remembered Barrett's parting words: "I will survive and find you again."
Stopping in my tracks on the way to the Technical Division, I whispered to the empty hallway: "Wait... there's no way he actually breaks out and comes for me, right?"
The only answer was the silence of the corridor.
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