"Robin, Vivi and Koala are infiltrating the Archipelago's government. It'll help us gauge local reactions better, and besides that, it'll give us forewarning if anything interferes with a critical part of my plan's follow-through."
"What you need to understand about Governor Prefectus is that he and his cabinet, they're-they're not bad at their jobs, in fact, he's rather good! It's just… at times, he, they…"
"Choose… not to be," Koala completed slowly, her face screwing up in distaste as she looked over the civilized landscape of the 71st Grove through the window.
The bureaucrat, the pirates, and the revolutionary were speaking with a blonde, bespectacled woman with her hair in a messy bun, who bit her lip before nodding in defeat.
Sighing in dismay, Vivi let a stack of documents the woman had been working on thump onto the desk, then grabbed another, even larger stack and scanned through it. "Professional incompetents. Eurgh, the worst kind of politicians to deal with because they always make sure to dig in like ticks…"
"Oh, maybe so, maybe so," Robin purred as she leaned on the office door, ever so casually keeping several unflinching gazes on the surrounding hallways. "But that doesn't mean there aren't advantages as well. After all, meddlers like them make such delightful squealing noises when you take them by the balls and apply just the right amount of pressure."
Vivi paused and looked up at her pseudo-mentor in confusion. "Are… you speaking metaphorically or—?"
"Ladies, I do believe this line of questioning is irrelevant to our current purpose…" Koala interrupted with a hasty cough, glancing with concern at their temporary, rapidly green-ifying ally. "And also, I think you're starting to scare our source."
"But surely she must be used to such topics of conversation," Robin replied, her prior levity gone. "After all, this is the office that processes all the generous donations made to the government of Sabaody by… what did they call it again?"
"Faithful constituents," Vivi dryly read off one of the documents.
"Ah, yes, constituents. That is your business, is it not, Miss Libia?"
The green melted away to red, and the paper-pusher shoved herself to her feet with a harsh slap of her hands on her desk. "Mrs. Libia," she firmly corrected. "And I will have you know that I have no part in this… this!" she spat, swiping a stack of papers off her desk and scattering them across the floor. "I'm just the one that the-the bastards above me force the paperwork onto! And what am I supposed to do about it?"
Libia groaned and sank back into her seat, massaging her eyes. "I can have eyes sharper than swords for noticing every inconsistency that comes through. And I can count every single shell company through which the funds pass before reaching me. And I could even get the genealogies of the bastards, all these bribes are coming from going back to their tenth generation! But what sort of whistleblowing can I do when everyone above my head is corrupt, when they're the ones making me handle their dirty money!?"
She picked up one fluttering paper and regarded it with a defeated expression. "Dirty money that comes from both above and below, at that. Honestly, it's one thing to receive generous donations that are delivered by courier, at least that's halfway subtle, but it is insulting when payment is delivered by the Marines in order to provide 'financial support' for our government…"
Tossing the paper aside, Libia slumped back in her admittedly very comfy-looking chair, one hand over her eyes. Running said hand down her face, her eyes fell onto a picture on the desk, and began to moisten.
"You know what they call my department?" she said, her voice soft and miserable. "'The Office of Cultural Affairs'. Cultural. This is what the world sees our culture as. What even bastards like Prefectus think it is."
Libia held up the picture for the three outlaws to see, her face a picture of despair. "I have a husband. I have children, born and raised here. And I am genuinely terrified that they will not only think that this is their legacy… but that if nothing is done, they could come to accept it. Happily."
For a long moment, nobody said anything. Then Robin spoke up. "Pardon my curiosity, but aren't you being a tad candid, sharing all this with the three women who, might I remind you, broke into your office not ten minutes ago?"
"And are among the most infamous criminals in the world, I might note," Koala added.
"And who else would you have me discuss this with, hm?" Libia snorted dismissively. "In case you haven't been hearing me, I'll remind you that all of my coworkers are literally a part of the problem."
"All of them?" Vivi repeated. "You can't think of anyone else you'd trust?"
The bureaucrat's expression turned flat. "I haven't exactly raised a petition on the matter, no. That's a 'severance package' I'd rather not collect, if it's all the same to you."
"Well, then, in that case," Koala said, clapping her hands and stepping away from the window to show an eager grin on her face. "I think I know what we'll be looking into next."
"And I think I know where we can get a few leads on where not to start…" Vivi mused, snapping her fingers to alert her crew's leading snail.
-o-
"Tashigi's making contact with men sent from Smoker's fleet and infiltrating the local garrison, under the pretense of acting as reinforcements to help hunt us. When the time comes, she's going to put a hurt on them like nothing they've felt before."
"…got it. I'll move that up on the priority list…mmph, but…" The lieutenant rubbed her chin. "I can't promise it'll be that fast, we don't have that kind of time…alright. Alright, I see where you're coming from. I'll do what I can. Pisces out."
The static faded, and Tashigi nodded and turned back to face the Marines before her, straightening out her outfit for more of that oddly satisfying feeling. The outfit that the Straw Hats had forced her into was securely locked away in the scuzziest closet she could find, only to be removed so that it could be burned at the earliest opportunity. She honestly didn't think she'd been so happy to don her uniform in months.
As for the aforementioned Marines, Smoker had sent a dozen of his men ahead to the island a week prior without notifying anyone. If anyone were to ask, the cover story was that Tashigi had sailed with them to the island for a private mission, taking advantage of the likely once-in-a-lifetime deficit of pirate presence.
"Alright. Chief Petty Officer Nomaru, report," she ordered. "What are your squad's observations from the past week?"
"Lieutenant." The lead soldier snapped a salute, then nodded. "We've had no issue acquiring information from the local Marines about their daily operations. They've been very cooperative." He frowned. "Actually, they've been too cooperative. I've witnessed inspections and audits on several Marine bases, but I can rightly say this is the first time I've seen one that's been outright eager to accommodate us."
Tashigi matched the soldier's frown, casting her mind back to the mini-crusade she'd directed in the East Blue, and she had to concur with her subordinate: in every base she'd inspected (read: raided), the corrupt Marines had always done their best to rush her out, so that she couldn't find the cracks in their facade. So for a group of Marines she knew couldn't be anything but corrupt, to be so forthcoming was… confusing, to say the least. "And? What did you find?"
"Nothing was out of place, Lieutenant. Reassignment forms, arrest documentation, and medical records, all organized in perfect compliance with headquarters' policies. Their troops are competently trained and drilled, and none of them shows any issue. But…" The officer cradled his chin, casting a thoughtful gaze toward the base. "The one discrepancy I did notice is that they seem to be… hyper-focused on subduing pirates."
"They do get every pirate trying to get to the New World coming through here," Tashigi pointed out, for the sake of Devil's Advocacy if nothing else.
"Yes, much like how we got all the ones trying to get to Paradise," Nomaru agreed with a slow nod. "But back in Loguetown, we unilaterally arrested all criminals on the island, like drug-dealers and gangsters, wherever possible. But these Marines… they barely acknowledge the existence of any other kind of outlaw…" His expression darkened. "Especially including the slave trade. Every time that we've asked, we've been met with the same response of—"
"Let me guess," Tashigi interrupted, snapping her hands up. "'It was outlawed 200 years ago, there is no slave trade anymore.'"
"With varying levels of venom, affirmative," Nomaru bit out. "This place does one of the best damn jobs of hiding it I've ever seen, but the fact remains: it's as rotten as a week-old Sea King carcass. Your orders, ma'am?"
Tashigi exhaled sharply, measuring her original assignment against her new priority. After only a moment, she looked back up at Nomaru.
"Nomaru, take Popora and five soldiers of your choice to their central administrative building. Gauge everyone that you can access and determine who among them is trustworthy. You'll have other aid from the Masons to help you. Everyone else, with me."
She drew Shigure, giving the blade a final critical look… and securing her glasses, ignoring an amused chuff from Popora, before sheathing the blade at her hip.
"We're going to give this island the once-over of the century! Agreed?!"
"MA'AM, YES, MA'AM!"
-o-
"As for everyone else, they're sniffing out the slavers from every nook and cranny they could possibly hide in. Chopper is leading Conis, Su and Donny through every back-alley quack and drug-slinger he can find so that he can trace any drugs they might have sold under the table to their buyers…"
"Now, doctor," Chopper huffed patiently, slipping his goggles off and examining them for a moment before polishing off a slight stain on the lens. "We're both men of medicine—me more than you, clearly, but still—so why don't we try and achieve a mutually beneficial conclusion without too much hardship, hm? Just give me your records, and I won't be forced to resort to… drastic measures to extract the knowledge. In fact, we might even go so far as to compensate you for your time." He replaced his goggles and tilted his mirrored gaze curiously. "Does this sound amenable to you?"
"L-Like hell it is! I-I provide surplus supplies to some v-very powerful people! If they find out I talked—n-no way, I want to live, damn it! I-I'm not telling you anything! So screw off!"
"Hm, have to admire the determination, at least," the human-reindeer remarked. And it really was impressive, what with Donny, perched on a high shelf, holding the back-alley saw-bone's ankles so that he was upside down, his head nearly touching the floor. "But, regrettably, we are on a timetable. Conis? Kindly motivate the man."
"With pleasure," the angelic gunner cheerfully replied. But instead of making any threatening moves, she walked over to a brown paper bag sitting atop a pile of syringes on a nearby table and opened it. "Is this your lunch?"
The doctor blinked. Chopper blinked. So did Donny. "Er… yes?" the doctor weakly replied.
Nodding, Conis peered inside and gave it a sniff. Reaching in, she pulled out a somewhat greasy-looking fried chicken sandwich. "Smells great, where'd you get this?" she asked.
"Er, there's a stand in Grove 21. It's, uh, called the Crazy Chicken, I think?"
"Excellent!" Conis beamed. "I'll have to check it out after this." She took a bite. "Mm, that is good. Alright, Carl, can I call you Carl?"
"Er, that's not my—"
"Great! Here's the deal, Carl." Abruptly, all traces of good cheer vanished from both Conis's expression and posture, replaced by cold indifference. "I spent six years being forced to send innocent people to their deaths at the hands of sadistic psychopaths, unable to so much as weep for them because the tyrant who ruled my island would have vaporized me if I betrayed him. I never got the chance to pay that tyrant back; if I did, I would not hesitate to take his life. And you?" Her lips turned downward in a harsh frown, emphasizing the quiet fury in her eyes. "You're almost worse, aiding and abetting the practice of taking innocent people and putting them in that situation so you can line your own pockets. But I know what you're thinking, and you're right. As a rule, we Straw Hats don't like taking life."
Stepping up to the man, she leaned down, her expression eerily serene.
"So I have a friendly suggestion for you: perhaps you should be worrying less about your employers, who have already made up their minds to kill you later, and worry more about me, who's still mulling over doing it now."
And then… she took another bite of the sandwich.
For several seconds, silence reigned over the clinic until it was broken by a low whistle from Su. "Damn, girl!"
"B-Bullshit, I watch the SBS!" the doctor spat in a sudden bout of courage. "I don't care what you say, d-do you really expect me to believe that a Straw Hat could murder a complete stranger point-blank? E-Especially this ditz of all people! You might be n-nuts, b-but unless you're making yourself really nuts, you're nothing but a cowa—!"
"Oh well, so much for Plan B," Chopper interrupted, rummaging around in his bag. "Time for Plan C." He straightened, a bottle prominently marked with hazard symbols in hoof, and sighed. "Which really should stand for 'complicated mess', because there's a fifty percent chance that that's how I'll be describing your insides if I use this."
Again, silence hung over the air, though this time the doctor was sweating buckets. Then Chopper turned around, a wide grin on his face and his eyes gleaming with madness.
"Oh, well. For science! Conis, hold him still, and get ready for some thrashing."
"Of course, doctor!" Conis chirped, before looking mournfully at the sandwich. "Oh well, I can get another one." Holding the sandwich in front of the doctor, she mimed him opening his mouth. "Don't worry, this is just to make sure you don't bite your tongue off. Still need you to answer, after all. Now either say what we want, or say ah."
"A… a-ah…"
Conis shrugged with a serene smile. "Well, if you say so—!"
"A-ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I'LL TALK, I'LL TALK!" the 'doctor' finally howled, flailing in a state of pure panic. "T-THEY'RE UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS, BENEATH MY DESK, BENEATH MY DESK! J-JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE DAMN IT!"
Chopper paused mid-preparation, and both he and Conis smiled brightly at the man. "Now, see, was that truly so hard?" the angel chirped pleasantly.
"Indeed, we're much obliged by your sincerity," Chopper tipped his hat politely, turning to shove said desk aside. "And just in case… Su, if he's lying, eat his testicles."
"WAIT, WHAT?!"
The named cloud fox leapt from her partner's shoulders and sat on her haunches in front of the saw-bone's face, baring her fangs. "That'll be my pleasure."
-o-
"While Sanji is getting help from Mikey and Sandersonia to accomplish the same with their food supplies."
There were a few reasons that Sandersonia had chosen Sanji to accompany despite the latter's lecherous nature. He was still one of the strongest members of the crew; he needed the help, with most of the other crew members occupied, he could be counted on to scare away anyone who looked at her the wrong way without her having to risk revealing her identity…
…no, that last one was definitely the most relevant reason at this stage. Everyone knew that not even Sanji's attraction to women could overpower his absolute respect for food. And, considering the nature of their current assignment, the sheer amount of wasted and unsalvageable food Sanji was forced to observe left him in a very foul mood. Smoke rose from his footsteps and fists as he paced up and down the alley, and he was visibly eager to lash out at the first schmuck who'd be so stupid as to try and provoke him.
The hooded cloak and jeans that hid her form were almost superfluous with everyone actively avoiding the chef and the hellfire-and-brimstone aura he was putting out.
Still, scary as the cook was at the moment, the serpent Zoan couldn't deny feeling some doubt in the back of her mind.
"Are you sure about this plan of yours?" Sandersonia posed.
"Mmph, sure as I can be. However inhumanely the slavers treat their merchandise, they still need them alive. They can only starve them so much before feeding them, and I doubt they'd 'waste' money on buying it fresh, be it the whole meals or just the ingredients," Sanji quietly answered, his teeth audibly grinding on his cigarette. "And even if it's just garbage, that garbage comes from somewhere. All food reaches a mouth, we just need to follow it until then…"
"Hss…" Sandersonia nodded, reluctantly conceding the point. "Okay, but how do we actually follow this trail of yours?"
The cook snorted out a cloud of smoke. "That's the hard part. We need to find the start of the trail, and then we can start running it back, but until then—"
"Hey, Sanji," Mikey suddenly spoke up, intently eyeing one of the ends of the alleyway. "You mentioned garbage?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
Mikey pointed out into the street with his flipper. "See those busboys over there?"
Sanji and Sandersonia both looked over the dugong's shoulder at the men he was indicating. "The ones splitting a wad of cash?" the former queried.
"Last time I saw them," the dugong bit out. "They were walking out of a restaurant carrying trash bags."
The brief moment of silence that encompassed the trio was broken by the harsh FWOOSH! of Sanji's cigarette being immolated. "…oh, I am going to enjoy this."
Credit where it was due, said busboys clearly had good survival instincts. They immediately straightened and looked right at the pirates. Unfortunately, their good sense seemed to be lacking; while one of them turned and bolted, the other drew a derringer from his pocket and pointed it at them.
The next second, Sanji had Shaved in front of the runner, and Mikey had shot the gun out of the other one's hand.
"Hello, morons," Sanji drawled slowly, taking the busboys by their shoulders and slowly but patiently shoving them towards the alley. "Let me make this nice and simple so that the single brain cell you share can keep up. You currently have two choices: answer all of our questions honestly…"
He then shoved them forwards so that they faceplanted in the alley… right at the foot of the titanic serpent-woman that was suddenly looming over them, hissing as a geyser seconds from blowing with her knife-sized fangs bared.
"Or get fed to the lovely lady before you, feet first." Sanji shrugged indifferently as he lit a new cigarette and took a patient drag from it. "Your choice."
"And just so we're clear," Mikey added, snapping his nunchucks taut. "You don't get to choose 'pass out from sheer terror' as a third option."
The two saps' faces were utterly devoid of colour. One moved as though to start crawling away, and the chef responded by stomping beside his hand. The busboy pulled back so fast it was like the ground was on fire. Except it was.
"Though if you want to be char-broiled before she eats you, I think that could be arranged," the dugong added, almost as an afterthought.
That pushed them over the edge, and they started screaming out every name, location, and password that they knew.
-o-
"The fishmen are fleshing out the maps we already have with the help of the rest of our guard force."
"And that's the 50s complete," Chew grumbled, pointing at the last location he'd recorded. "You got all of that?"
The purple-wearing dugong nodded before turning around and bouncing off and into the air.
"IF SHE GETS MAD, IT'S ON YOUR HEAD, NOT MINE!" the fishman called after him before diving back under the waves.
THWACK!
And taking a fist to his skull as soon as he submerged.
"AND WHAT WAS THAT FOR, HACHI, CHEW!?" the smelt-whiting fishman snarled.
The octopus folded his six arms, disappointment written all over him. "In case you haven't noticed, we're doing something amazing here. I haven't felt this good since Fisher Tiger was alive. Unlike when we were with Arlong, I don't need to try to justify what I'm doing. But you! Is it really that hard for you two to bite down on your hatred!?"
The other two fishmen narrowed their eyes at him; a moment later, Kuroobi rolled his with a dismissive scoff. "This isn't about aiding humans, Hachi. Hell, it's not even about aiding the Straw Hats." The way he snarled the name out made the unspoken 'barely' very clear. "I don't like it, but I'm not upset about species."
"Pretty sure we're of the same mind, then, chew," Chew chimed in. "We're upset about putting in all this work to try and do the impossible, chew. Sabaody has thwarted every attempt by the Ryugu Royal Family and the residents of the Fishman District to take it down, so what makes you think that this human's plan will be any different?"
"And before you bring up Enies Lobby, that's another point against all this. The World Government isn't going to let the Straw Hats get away with something like that twice," Kuroobi tacked on. "Seriously, Hachi, you've done some boneheaded things before, but even giving Roronoa Zoro a ride out of Arlong Park after he broke out of the prison and tore our crewmates apart wasn't as stupid as this."
Hachi's face reddened. Hard to say how much of it was anger versus shame. Unfolding his top pair of arms, he started counting off on his fingers. "Alright, first of all, you're a jackass for bringing that up. Second… I'm not privy to all the details, but from what I heard, the Straw Hats have helped this time around. A lot of help. Third, that blockade was the Government's second-best shot against the Straw Hats, and at this point, it's… what was that phrase… matches and razors. And fourth…"
He slammed his knuckles together, looking three seconds away from thumping his employees. Again. "Have you guys already forgotten!? Climbing the Red Line. Burning Mariejois. Freeing every last slave. What Fisher Tiger did was impossible, too. He did it anyway. He didn't care that what he wanted to do was impossible. Neither do the Straw Hats, and neither do I! We're pirates! Ignoring reality and achieving possibility, that is what we aim for, flying the Jolly Roger! And if you don't like it, you can both—eh?"
Hachi fell silent, and Chew glanced up in irritation, trying to find the source of the wailing strings vibrating the water. "What's that vermin bleating out now, chew?"
"Sounds like something about… 'fight the power'?" Kuroobi grunted. "Seriously, what does rowing have to do with—?"
"Less questioning the crazy pirates, more getting back to work," Hachi interrupted.
The pair scowled but swam off without complaint.
Once they were out of earshot, Hachi chuckled to himself with a slightly hysterical grin. "Of course, if what I've heard is accurate, I think that we'll all get a good answer once we rendezvous in the 70s…"
-o-
"And lastly, while Carue, Lassoo and Funkfreed are resting up for the real action back at Shakky's, Zoro, Nami, and I are sticking in one place and coordinating things," I finished - before wincing sheepishly at the GLARE I felt hammer into the side of my head. "…or, well, I'm coordinating, Zoro's looking scary, and Nami is…"
"Contemplating murder, yes."
I winced. Riding on Billy's back as we walked provided a constant reassuring presence for our navigator, and the motion and sunlight all around us emphasized a feeling of freedom. Soundbite was even playing some genuinely relaxing music.
But even with that positive atmosphere on Kalifa's mind wipe, the fact that Nami was once again drawing a map from the information the fishmen provided for her was…
…there really are no words to properly express how much I hated putting her through this situation.
"…I don't know how I'll ever pay you back for this, Nami, but—"
CLUNK!
She set the pen down hard on the lapdesk Franky had whipped up for her before turning her head to face me.
"I am gambling over half of our prize money and reliving eight years of excruciating memories to help make sure your plan works, Cross. Remember how I said I 'owed' you, back on Thriller Bark?" She chopped her hand across her throat. "Yeah, back to zero."
She looked, inhaling and exhaling slowly, before turning back to me a little calmer.
"Just…" she huffed out. "As long as the plan works, it's worth it. It'll make us even richer, and far more importantly, it'll cripple the possibility of another eight-year-old girl going through the kind of hell that I did." She looked back down and raised her pen again. Her voice was dark—and more importantly, low enough for Soundbite to know not to broadcast it—as she put in her last word:
"But sticking me with this on top of the two years off? I don't care how much you think you can punish yourself; you do not want to imagine what I will put you through if your plan fails."
I shivered in existential terror, but shoved that to the back of my mind. "Rest assured, I've planned this out more than any other plan I've made on this crew, and we have allies to tackle it from every angle. Even if there are some unexpected outcomes, we will meet our primary win condition. We won't fail." My gaze sharpened into an outright glare. "We can't fail."
Nami let out another deep breath, visibly reassured. Slowly, I took in our surroundings. We were on the outskirts of Sabaody Park, and while from the outside it looked like we were just sightseeing, Soundbite was in full surveillance mode, attempting to map the kidnapping gangs. Big surprise, but to the damn bastards, the park was one big barrel of fish. Literally, in the case of the merfolk children who came to the surface to fantasize about what they'd never had. And even worse, it seemed like parts of the park itself were designed to facilitate making people disappear among the attractions. Not all of it, thank God… but way too much for comfort.
It was a hefty task, but luckily, we'd have help soon enough. We'd placed a call to the newly rechristened Rosy Life Riders, and they were on their way now that the blockade was down. But given the time crunch, we had to rely on whatever scarce information they could convey in passing and nail down the finer points ourselves.
Of course, between Soundbite's powers and Zoro and Nami's experience before they joined Luffy, that was more than enough to go off of. Which meant I had to ask… "So… anything else, Captain?"
"Mmm… no, that's it. Thanks, Cross."
"Thank you," I nodded back. And with that, Soundbite clicked the connection shut with a clear air of relief, one that I shared. "On the one hand, Luffy's seriousness is going to be an asset today. On the other hand…" I shuddered fearfully. "It never really gets any less terrifying to be on the receiving end of it."
"I think I'll skip feeling that particular feeling, thanks…" Nami responded, shuddering as well.
"Don't count on it, witch. He's not going to be happy with any of us when Kuma shows up again, and we're not surprised about it…" Zoro grumbled.
That got another shudder out of Nami, but it passed quickly. Putting away her writing tools, she leaned back and rolled her wrist. "Alright, I've got the outline of the master map done. Let's stop somewhere for a minute, alright? I need to put down some fine details, and then it should be complete, or close to it. And on a related note, how far out are the rest of the Supernovas? Specifically, the one we need."
"Meh, not TOO far," Soundbite frowned. "KID, LAW, and BEGE had real MOTOR POWER on their side; they're all docking right now. From what I can glean from their crews' gossip, the others GAVE UP ON THE PRIZE, so they're taking their sweet time. AND PLOTTING BLOODY VENGEANCE IN THE PROCESS… including our allies, TO AN EXTENT. SOUNDS LIKE THEY'RE STILL TICKED WE SCAMMED THEM OUT OF THEIR DOUGH."
"Sorry, not sorry," Nami and I gloated.
"SO YEAH, WE GOT TIME. THERE'S A CAFE WITH WHAT SOUNDS LIKE A DECENT GRILL up the block, we can plant ourselves there and grab a bite to eat while we plan our next move."
"Meh, you two go ahead and sit if you want," Zoro said, folding his arms behind his head as he started to accelerate his pace. "I'll just keep going and go for a quick walk—" OH GOD NO.
"ALSO, THEY HAVE GOOD BOOZE."
"Up the block, you said?" OH THANK GOD.
"Well, that was lucky…" I sighed under my breath.
"Not really," Soundbite shrugged, staying just as quiet. "I just noticed you were about to flip out and decided to shut him up. Lemme guess, he had a date with disaster?"
"Specifically, a World Noble…" I groaned. "So for now, let's just sit down, shut up, and let me try and downgrade my heart rate from 'jackrabbit' to 'normal'."
Mercifully, I got the moment's reprieve that I needed. A good, solid minute of rest. The hustle and bustle of the people and the bubbling and popping of the resin helped to calm me down. Honestly, as long as I could force myself to ignore the despicable undertone of the place, Sabaody Park was rather nice. Pleasant atmosphere, cheer in the air… the perfect place to relax and forget all about your troubles.
"Oi, you!"
Right up until I felt a hand land on my shoulder. And not a hand I was familiar with; something I oughta know given how pretty much everyone on the crew had grabbed my shoulder at one point or another. I looked at the person who grabbed me, and then I sent a flat glare at my other shoulder.
"And what's your excuse this time?" I deadpanned, ignoring the thug behind me for the moment.
"One malignant jackass splitting off from the generally PISSY MASSES," my gastropodal comrade sighed in dismay. "Didn't notice UNTIL HE WAS RIGHT ON TOP OF US."
Shrugging in acceptance of the excuse, I looked back up at the uninvited interloper with all the deadpan sincerity of a no-nonsense butler. "May I help you?" I inquired, though my tone clearly and precisely said 'fuck off'.
"You're that two-bit idiot on the SBS, Jeremiah Cross, right?"
… Do I need to give any more context or exposition here? I don't think I do.
I snapped my hand up to stop any intervention from my fellow officers—you can bet they were already a foot out of their seats by then—as I turned in my seat so that I was halfway turned toward the guy. "Yes, that's me," I nodded… kinda politely. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah, you actually can!" The heavy-set guy nodded forcefully before cooling off slightly and looking a bit apologetic. "Okay, uh, first, sorry about my tone. Just to be clear, I love the show and listen to every broadcast. Really great!"
"Oh, yeah?" I cocked an eyebrow at him. This all sounded good… so why was I getting such a bad feeling?
Then the guy's expression twisted in a way I just did not like. "But for all that your stuff's good, think you could do the world of decent people a favour and stop talkin' about those damn fish freaks on your show?"
My facial expression fell flat like paper. There it was. "Oh, yeah?" I repeated, my tone bone dry.
"Yeah!" the man nodded, still calm and apparently completely oblivious to my change in demeanour. "Look, man, I know people whose kids listen to that show, and you can't just go around filling their heads with nonsense about us being 'equal' with those fish freaks! It just ain't true, and it'll screw them up something bad! That's not right!"
My eye twitched slightly, but that was the only muscle I let slip out of my control. But it was a slip that got most of the passerby around me backing away, and fast. "Care to explain your reasoning?" I posed calmly and condescendingly.
And now he was looking at me like I was the idiot. The mind boggles. "I mean, have you ever even seen those freaks? They're all slimy and gross and weird! Total monsters, obviously. No clue how anyone could be stupid enough to actually think they're people—"
Okay, yeah, no, I'm heading this off at the pass, and I did that by shutting him up with a raised hand. "Alright, look, Idjit—do you mind if I call you Idjit? I'm going to call you Idjit."
"Hey, what are you—?" Idjit started to protest.
"Listen, Idjit," I forged on, slowly rising from my seat and putting my palms together. "I've heard your arguments, your reasoning, and your logic. Now, allow me, as a fellow gentleman, to give you my calm, measured, perfectly rational response."
Acutely aware of everyone watching me, I patiently slid my right gauntlet off…
CRACK!
And cold-clocked the thug square across the jaw with my bandaged fist. Idjit let out a pained gurgle and collapsed like a sack of flour. I was very happy when he did not get back up.
I bit out a sharp tsk as I waved out my fist and gauntlet back on. "Fuck off, asshole," I snarled frigidly. I then turned on my heel and started marching away. "Come on, I want to put some distance between me and that waste of flesh. Before he wakes up and makes me do something drastic."
Nami blinked several times, dumbfounded, before she and Zoro hurried to catch up with me, Billy cowering behind Nami. "That was your calm and 'not drastic' response?" our navigator inquired slowly.
"Believe me," I snarled, flexing my palm and letting a ripple of air blast out of my Impact Dial as I seriously considered doubling back and putting it to use. "If I were pissed, his body would neither be solid nor in one location. Last time I tried talking sense to a couple of stupid bigots who wouldn't hear my words, I snapped. It's an exercise in futility, and I am distinctly not in the mood."
"…What happened to the Cross who couldn't stand even killing an otter and a vulture?" Zoro asked.
"Two full-blown wars and a whole lot of ass-whupping later…" I grumbled mutinously. "Plus, with those jag-offs, I was the offended party, so I had the choice of turning the other cheek or not. He was shooting off about people who aren't allowed to defend themselves. Big difference."
After a few more seconds of walking, I felt my body convulse in disgust as we cut through an alley. "Then again, better him than one of the Nobles. I'm not sure how much I'd be able to hold back in front of one of them if they spouted their nonsense."
"Should I even ask?" Nami sighed.
"Fuhohoho! Your unease is an understatement if I've ever heard one, darling! 'Freak' is downright civil compared to their sky-island high egos. Ooh, I'm seeing red just thinkin' 'bout 'em!"
We all turned towards the source of the voice in unison. I had to actively stop myself from gaping at the sight of the person in front of us. Tall and lanky, he was wearing a purple disco outfit with an exposed torso, stilted shoes, and everything. Even had a set of opaque glasses to complement the whole getup.
…all of which I probably would have elaborated on had he not sported the biggest fucking afro I have ever seen. Seriously, the thing was rounder and larger than most globes I saw back in Florida, and I'd been to Universal! Weird colour too, one side was auburn red, the other alabast—oh fucking hell was that a Poké Ball?!
"Of all the people here, you Straw Hats should know that words like 'freak' and 'monstah' aren't so much an insult as a mark o' pride to folks like us. No, nonono, ta make all the way out here? Out of the Grand Lahne? Freakishly strong is exactly what we need ta be," the stranger said, dancing to his own beat—no, wait, Soundbite was actually pumping a beat into the air, which the stranger was grooving to. Moving his arms around, strutting around us like a prideful bird, spinning around in place every so often with the confidence of someone who'd been doing this kinda stuff for years. We could only gape at him like schoolkids watching Saturday Night Fever for the first time.
"After all," he continued, pointing off into the distance as he… moved his hips in a way that I missed because like hell was I looking down. "In order to truly revel in the chaotic rhythms and aromas of the Grand Line, you gotta choose to get down to the beat of strength, to become so freaky it causes a jam all the way from the Blues, y'know?"
He then backflipped and moonwalked past us. None of us even reacted beyond watching him as he shuffled to our other side.
"But really now," the 70s escapee lamented, cradling his face in his elbow as grandiosely as he had been thus far. "If anything, it's the bile that those 'high and mighty' spit out that we really take offence about."
Okay, there was something wrong with that sentence, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what.
"Ah… what do you mean, 'we?'" Billy asked, raising a wing.
By way of response, the man grinned… and in doing so, showed that his teeth were triangular and sharp.
"Most o' the world 'ccepted we wah sapient bein's ovah two hundred yeahs ago," he drawled in a flamboyantly Southern accent, the sunlight glimmering off his already radiant spikey smile. "But if you heard the tune o' what those Nobles are playing, they've never swung tah the same beat as the rest of us. It's naht even a mattah of seein' the truth and refusin' tah accept it. They are completely incapable of acknowledging us sea folks as anything more than animals."
…you know, I didn't know it was possible to taste disgust until now. I mentally noted the acrid stench of seething rage and hatred emanating from my friends for the future, while taking a moment to calm myself. Meanwhile, the stranger offered a much friendlier grin, swaggering up to me in a posture eerily similar to Luffy.
"Truth be told, dahlings, I ain't even a full-blooded fishman; half-land, half-sea but all me, baby, y'know what I'm saying? But if you listened to even half of what some of those snot-nosed brats spout off regularly, you'd be wanting to knock them sideways with your elegant steps, too! So, to hear you defend us so vigorously, to see you lay that punk out with your elegant moves, it really brings a tear to my eye! Oh!" He shot his finger up in a picture-perfect point. "The courage! Oh!" He swapped his pose so that his other finger was pointing. "The humanity! Oh—!"
"Get to the point before I cut that shrub on your head," Zoro interrupted, undercutting his threat by clicking Wado Ichimonji out of its sheath.
"GWAGH!" Disco-dude staggered away from us, flailing his arms in front of his ridiculous 'do. "I-I-I just wanted a picture with the king cat of cool, man! With Cross, man! N-No need for slice and dice, I'm nice, I'm nice!"
Well, now, if he was offering… I snapped on a wide grin. "It would be my pleasure."
The flamboyant stranger's grin widened as he shot me with a pair of finger pistols. "Alright, groovy, dahlin'! Strahke a pose! Oh, heyah." He tossed a shell I near instantly recognized as a Vision Dial to Nami. "Picked up this nifty doodad over in the markets, sweetest thing I ever did find! Just snap a pic, and I'll split!"
"Mmm, I don't know…" Nami hemmed and hawed, giving the disco dude an uncertain look. "Something about all this feels… off to me—"
"Did I mention that I always tip my paparazzos most generously?" the dude drawled, flashing a 10K bill between his fingers.
"Cross, if you could move a little bit to your left, please, you're slightly out of the frame," Nami ordered, angling the dial with the intensity of a professional photographer.
I did as the meteorological witch ordered and sidled up to my fan, slinging my arm around his shoulders and donning a nice and massive smile to match his. And to put the finishing touches on it all, we both flashed peace signs to the camera.
"Alright, three, two—!"
"Say 'SOMBRERO-WEARING PINEAPPLE DUCKS!'"
I held my smile even through the twitch of confusion I felt until the flash went off. Then I fixed my partner with a flat glare and an ever flatter utterance of "…what even."
"WAIT, YOU NEVER—!? YOU DON'T REC—!? WELL, long story short, you're missing out," the snail snickered, getting back to bobbing and bopping to the beat he was belting.
"Fuhohoho, I'm inclined to agree with your little buddy," the stranger chuckled. "If I'd've bought that shell that recorded sound, too, I'd keep this song on hand all the time. As is, though… any chance I could get one more favour, Mr. Cross?" Taking the photo from Nami, he held it out to me along with a pencil.
Didn't take a genius to understand the request, and I didn't hesitate to sign my name.
"Oh, thank you so very kindly. Keep up the anarchy, Mr. Cross, you've got a lot of people calling your name! Bye-bye, now!"
With that, he dashed away with impressive speed, leapt onto a mangrove root, and backflipped off of it, finishing with a swan dive into the water below. Because of course he did. What else had I been expecting?
"Well, that was refreshing," I grinned, folding my arms behind my head as we walked away. "Seeing as the taste of bile and idiocy's been washed out of our mouths, how's about we go about finding a better place to relax while we wait for the rest of the star players?"
No objections were forthcoming, and so we made our way out to a new grove. But en route, a thought occurred to me, and I turned my head towards Soundbite with an apologetic frown.
"Only just realized I should have said this earlier, Soundbite, but…" I shook my head, grimacing. "I'm sorry about making you listen to… all of this. The slave trade, the rampant racism… I mean, I expect you'd hear some manner of shit on a normal island, but this place is… concentrated to say the least. Are you alright?"
Soundbite stared at me with a neutral expression for a minute before heaving a tired sigh. "Partner, let me remind you of something: THANKS TO THAT PHONE OF YOURS, I CAN HEAR THE WHOLE INTERNET."
I winced. "Ah," I coughed uncomfortably. "So, hate speeches, war documentaries, the worst parts of the gaming community—"
"BEHEADINGS, SNUFF FILMS, 'Kill Yourself' web pages…" he cut in with an unaffected deadpan before double-taking at my face. No surprise since I was boggling at him with no small amount of horror. "Well, I mean, I usually bury that shit under a mountain of memes, but thanks to this place hitting me on both fronts… ANYWAY, IT'LL BE ROUGH ON ME FOR A WHILE, BUT I'M FINE…" He glanced aside with a tired snort. "NOTHING I HAVEN'T SEEN BEFORE, ANYWAYS…"
"(.づ◡﹏◡)づ." Gif swooped out of where she'd been snoozing in Nami's hood to comfort her audio counterpart, nuzzling her cousin.
"Oi oi, I DID SAY I WAS FINE, DIDN'T I?" he groused, though he didn't do anything but give her a slightly exhausted glance - right up until his eyestalks sharpened into a harsh glare. "HONESTLY, THE PROBLEM ISN'T HEARING THIS STUFF… IT'S THAT FOR THE FIRST TIME, I'M HEARING IT LIVE. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? MUCH AS THIS ALL PISSES ME OFF… I'M ALSO HAPPY ABOUT IT. Because for once, for FUCKING once…"
A determined smile spread over his face, so different from his usual expression. "I can actually do something about it."
-o-
A good half hour later, in something of an eerie echo of Brook and Chopper in canon, we found ourselves relaxing on a bench with a decent supply of food and drinks. We were several groves over from Sabaody Park, in the heart of the tourism district, so as to avoid any undue PTSD. But even with our nerves cooled, it was still a massive relief to all of us when Nami laid down the final version of the map.
"Thank goodness that's over," she sighed in far too much relief as she all but slammed her quill onto the table. "Alright, the map's as done as I can get it. We can put it to use as soon as I know where to put the X."
"Should be coming right up," Zoro said, then knocked his frothing mug back with a glance my way. "Of course, I did say 'should…'"
I'd rebut that if I could, but sadly, I was too busy vindicating him on my current call.
As is, I spared him a scowl and a quick flip of a certain finger before refocusing on Soundbite, who was silent as he funnelled the call he was carrying through my headphones. "So you're saying the answer is still no, no matter how much you offer, really? Ugh, what about if you doubled it, or even quadrupled it? We could cover the cost, long enough until—damn it, he really said that?" I pinched the bridge of my nose with a groan. "No, no, it's not your fault, I should have seen this coming, I just thought…"
I shook my head and waved my hand dismissively. "No, you know what? It doesn't matter. Look, does he actually have it? He just hasn't—? Perfect, then things are still a go. We've got people on our side who can handle that end of things, so all you have to do is be ready to mobilize on your end once things go through. And I mean the moment that things go through; we're only going to get one shot at doing things the legal way, understand?"
I waited for the response, and then sighed in relief at the affirmative. "Alright, that's good. So, just to be clear, where will we be—Grove 77, then?" I snapped my fingers and pointed at Nami, prompting her to start scribbling a dozen annotations at once on her map. "No, no, that's fine. Perfect even, yeah. Nice and poetic. Alright, we'll meet you there, just be ready to bring…" I winced and tapped the cup of my headphones. "Yes, yes, I know, beating a dead Sea King, but excuse me for being worried. After all, this is…"
I relaxed with a slight smile and nodded gratefully. "Yeah, good point. I suppose if anyone would understand, it would be you. Okay, I think that's everything then. With any luck, we'll be seeing one another before the day is out. Would you give her my best wishes, please? Alright, godspeed. Cross out."
My good mood evaporated as I tsked and cut the connection, leaning back and massaging my suddenly tired-feeling face. "If I have one complaint about this plan," I groused. "It's the sheer amount of politics that I have to delve into if I want to get anything done. I'm only on the fringes here, but it's just as toxic as it was back in my world."
"Oh, you sweet summer child…" Soundbite crooned in as condescending a tone as he could manage. "It's only gotten WORSE SINCE YOU LEFT."
"I wish that was even remotely surprising," I grumbled, pushing myself to my feet and stretching with a relieved groan. "Alright, where are we on Supernova arrivals?"
"TIGER, ROOSTER, and MONKEY are standing by for your go-ahead… and chatting with Goat for CREATIVE IDEAS ON PAYBACK, MIGHT WANNA SEE ABOUT GIVING THEM THAT CONTINGENCY OF YOURS."
"Over my undead corpse, you're on your own, Cross," Nami scoffed as she crossed her arms ever so primly.
"CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, Grinch," the snail cringed. "I THINK I HEARD BARTY MUSING ON whether Law's Room would keep someone alive if indestructible barriers were PRESSING IN ON ALL SIDES…"
Everyone present blanched except Zoro, who I could just tell was now looking at Barty's barriers as his next challenge.
"ER… as for the rest, HEADCOUNT IS… six. HAWKINS is the only one not here yet, but scuttlebutt—I don't say that word enough—says HE'S ON THE HORIZON."
"In that case, I could go for a few more drinks," Zoro said, getting to his feet as well and starting to walk off.
"Sounds good to me, I could use some booze after this," Nami agreed, remounting Billy and petting his neck. "And I imagine my little buddy here would like some refreshments too, wouldn't you, boy?"
"Can we get some of that good Cola stuff Franky likes so much?" the pea-duck squawked eagerly as we all headed down the street. "I hear you can put ice cream in it, and make it taste really good!"
"Soundbite, find this duck his ice cream parlour," I ordered, pointing down the street with overblown grandeur. "Allons-y, en avant!"
"Ouais ouais, je le fais," Soundbite snickered, crossing his eyestalks for a moment before nodding proudly. "ALRIGHT, GOT ONE! AND GOING BY HOW THEY'RE PLAYING OUR BEST HITS ON REPEAT, I think we can even score us a freebie or—NO!"
I jumped as Soundbite suddenly howled in absolute terror, and I could only stare in confusion as he started flailing on my shoulder. "Soundbite? What the hell's gotten into—?"
Soundbite didn't hear me, too busy babbling the same conversation in two places at once. "Nononono, you have to move, YOU HAVE TO RUN! FUCK, NO, THE OTHER WAY, GET OUT OF HIS LINE OF— DODGE—!"
And then, out of absolutely nowhere, everything we'd been doing stopped, and everything that was to come started…
…blam…
With both a bang and a whimper, at the exact same time.
A single, lone gunshot, far off in the distance. So far, it was muted to the point of near nonexistence…
But with the impact it had on all of us, Pluton might as well have fired right next to us.
My breathing and pulse quickened as I pieced together what had happened at what felt like both mach speed and a slug's pace. "No…" I choked, ice flooding my veins.
Nami was in much the same state I was, her face draining of colour almost instantly. "W-Was that—?" she asked softly.
"You know it was," Zoro growled, teeth grinding as he strangled Shusui, looking fit to bear it at a moment's notice. And yet, somehow, he was still the calmest out of all of us, a fact he demonstrated by snorting out a harsh breath. "We'll make them pay, but for now we should—"
And then we heard it.
…blam… blam…
The five of us didn't move for a moment… and then I felt and heard my blood scream, and before I knew what I was doing, I was running at top speed.
I knew that I couldn't save them. I'd known they were dead at the first shot. I knew that, I knew! But… but…
GRAH!
-o-
"A fine follow-up shot, sir, both of them," complimented an armoured knight, he and his company bowing their heads out of both respect and worship.
"Indeed, your greatness. And with that heathen disposed of, shall we resume your schedule?" posed a suited aide, a slate in his hands. "Before you were so rudely interrupted, you were perusing the mortals in the archipelago for worthwhile servants. Then, you said you wished to enjoy your luncheon with Saints Shalria and Charloss at noon in Grove 45, followed soon after by traversing to Grove 1—is something the matter, my lord?"
"Silence," Saint Roswald snapped, remaining otherwise motionless and staring at… nothing, with great intensity. But nevertheless, no matter how nonsensical the order and his actions were, the knights and aides silenced themselves one and all, lest they draw their master's ire next.
It would come as a surprise to nobody even remotely familiar with Haki that Saint Roswald had never awakened the ability. But the fact that he, like most of his kind, had a tendency to deliberately block most things from his senses and scorn everything he disapproved of, which he could not, meant that the ability would have been lost on him anyway. Likewise, with such immense pride and belief in divinity, he would be more likely to doubt than trust even his own mind's eye when it presented an image of someone attempting to strike him.
As such, it was a mystery whether possessing the ability would be remotely helpful to the World Noble in fending off the uncommon feeling that was suddenly plaguing him: unease. Slowly and deliberately, the Noble turned to look to his left. Nothing out of the ordinary reached his eyes, yet the feeling did not subside. The order to his guards to investigate brushed his lips… then he dismissed the notion just as swiftly, looked away, and ordered his underlings onward.
His initial notion wasn't unfounded. Even those with unawakened Haki could get the feeling that they were being watched. Indeed, Roswald's familiarity with unease stemmed specifically from the fact that one specific Noble had been watching Roswald quite a bit over the better part of the last decade…and especially the past year.
It was perfectly appropriate, given that while Roswald thought that he was staring at nothing, he was in truth staring at a curtain of distorted air.
A curtain that dispersed the moment that the Noble was out of sight, revealing the livid form of Jeremiah Cross, whose hate-filled eyes Roswald had unknowingly met for those few seconds of uncertainty he'd felt.
The otherworlder's eyes followed Roswald long after the Celestial Dragon had disappeared from sight before turning away. He then approached the corpse and stared down.
Disgust stirred in his mind for the complete waste of potential, the inane waste of life for the crime, the apparently inexcusable crime of—of—!
He hadn't asked. He hadn't asked because he didn't want to know, because it didn't matter.
But…for all that he felt in that moment, for all that his everything was blazing and freezing and thrashing at the same time…
His face was completely blank as he knelt before the cadaver.
Blank, as he removed one of his gauntlets.
Blank, as he slowly and respectfully closed the victim's eyelids.
Blank, as he straightened and marched back the way he came, donning his armour with curt, sharp, and coldly efficient movements.
Blank… even as he calmly droned the hate-filled instructions that heralded the start of the world's revolution.
"Everybody. It's time. Gather everyone together. It starts, and ends, now."