8,429Chapter 45
Baltigo, The Grand Line
Well that's just rude.
A bit expected to be sure.
But still rude.
"You all do know I was invited right?"
The air is filled with the sounds of rifles cocking as roughly forty Revolutionary guardsmen take up position in a semicircle around me. At their forefront is a woman with tanned skin, prominent lips, and a cool as fuck cybernetic arm that -not only does it have a weapon attachment in its palm- also has each of the five fingertips glowing softly orange in warning.
Ahiru, Deputy Commander, Lv. 72
Y'know, my memory's gotten pretty good lately, but even I struggle to place the character for a moment. 'This is the No.2 woman for the…Eastern Army right? Belo Betty's right-hand? Shoot. It's hard to recall. The Deputy Commanders had a grand total of 'one' appearance in the manga. Who else was in that group? Uh…some rotund egg-looking dude, a cow from the Mink tribe -probably Lindbergh's assistant if I had to guess- oh crap, was that racist to assume that? If I'm wrong then that's totally raci-'
"Mr. Giberson may be a valued affiliate, but a word from him does not dictate the security directives of this island." The woman answers in a robotic monotone, only a slight clipness at the end of her sentence to reveal she's taken offense at my being here. A pair of Seastone cuffs go sliding across the ground to land at my feet, -a model that I idly note to be similar to the one's the World Government had used on Ace during Marineford and Robin back in Enies Lobby- and the woman's laser tipped fingers glow a little brighter. "Before you take one step further onto Baltigo, you'll be wearing those."
I take a casual glance at the manacles before turning my eyes back up and focusing on the dour cyborg in front of me. On the one hand…it might be kind of amusing to slap them on and show how utterly unbothered I am by the sensation. It could serve to unnerve them in a way to my advantage, what with the whole organization being under the impression I'm a Fruit user and all.
Though on the other…I'm not sure I like their attitude here nor the precedent it might set. That I'm willing to simply acquiesce to demands like this.
As a Warlord, there's a certain image I have to maintain now. Besides…a little brazen defiance is good for the soul or however it is that quote goes.
"Please, this is all a big misunderstanding." George, the ever upbeat Revolutionary in the giraffe hat speaks up, stepping towards the front in protest. "General Lindbergh gave his concurrence! There's no need for this to develop into an incident!"
Bunny Joe comes forward to add his own two cents into the mix, -anyone's guess if it's going to be in my favor or against- but a new authoritative voice cuts him off before he can get past the first word.
"Lindbergh's orders do not override Dragon's." Red boots clack over the dry soil. A cigarette hangs loosely off her lips and a pair of dark purple sunglasses create an air of dismissiveness as one of the R.A's heavy hitters makes her way to the forefront of the crowd.
She is also perhaps one of the most risque characters for Oda to ever put on the page. Ignoring the v-lines above her dangerously low hanging skirt, the only clothing present on her torso -besides gloves and a hat if you even count those- is a miniature jacket that stops well short of her naval and only just barely covers her nipples.
"You all should know that." The general chides in a disparaging tone at my escorts. "No government agent is ever to be brought here. Unusual circumstances or no."
'[Observe]'
Belo Betty, East Army Commander, Lv. 96
Would making a 'Lady Liberty' joke be too easy a target? Bellona 'Belo' Betty is one of the five Generals of the Revolutionary Army as well as the user of the powerful support-type Paramecia, the Pump-Pump Fruit. Although she can sometimes come off as cold or indifferent to the sufferings of others, it is only because she strongly believes that the ones most deserving of help are those who've already proven they have the will to help themselves. Belo Betty has been a fervent member of Monkey D. Dragon's revolution since the day it was founded and that loyalty can be seen represented in the World Government's prodigious bounty on her head of 457,000,000 Beri.
While not officially holding any higher position than that of her fellow generals, Belo Betty commands slightly more authority than her peers as she is the only one of the group who does not allow personal projects to distract her from the R.A's grand mission. She has been charged with maintaining the security of Baltigo while Dragon is off-island.
'Ehh? The boss man's not even here? That's somewhat disappointing. Safer for me probably, but I think that's one [Observe] I might have risked using. Advanced Haki detection or no.' Moving past her description and into her stats…I can honestly say I'm a little underwhelmed. To put it in Marine terms she's solidly Rear-Admiral tier which is less than I'd expect from one of the R.A.'s top people.
Of course, one also has to take into consideration that she's not supposed to be a front line fighter. She's the banner holder. The flag waver. Metaphorically leading the charge into battle but very seldomly doing so literally. Her Fruit power works on the classic anime trope of bringing out the 'inner potential' of others. To 'pump them' full of fighting spirit or what have you.
It sounds dumb, but it's actually scarily effective. Under Betty's AOE buff a civilian milkmaid was able to defeat a pirate captain valued at 52,000,000 Beri. An enemy who the anime displayed as being able to send Marine foot soldiers flying with a single swing of his sword.
Let it serve as a stoic reminder. When living in a shonen universe, you can't underestimate anyone's inner potential.
"Well then Warlord," the battle standard over her shoulder shifts as she seems to look down on me through her glasses. "What's it gonna be? Are you going to comply with my subordinate's command? Or are we going to just stare at each other all day?"
I comb my eyes once more over the parties assembled. The General. The Deputy. The tenuously-on-my-side revolutionaries behind me. All the guardsmen who could be empowered with a flick of Betty's wrist. Nico Robin who's been silently observing in the back of the crowd.
'I think we'll go with the brazen route.'
"...Ma'am," I begin respectfully, making a show of slowly reaching down to pick up the cuffs. "Go put on some fucking clothes." The words are punctuated by a blatant sealing of the seastone away into the [Inventory]. "If we're going to have a serious conversation, I'm not doing it with your exhibitionist streak in my face."
Jaws are agape. Postures shocked into stillness. The purple-haired woman lifts two fingers up to slide her glasses down and stare at me as if unsure she heard that right.
…
…
"...heh." A single chuckle rings out as the general smiles widely. "I like him." Betty twists on her heel and all the men around her relax their positions. "Alright, let's let him through." she nonchalantly announces. "Someone go and drag Lind out of his workshop. Tell him his guest is here."
Ahiru seems scandalized, shifting her gaze between me and her superior. "But ma'am! He's a- He just-"
"It's fine. It's fine." The woman in red waves her off. "I'll take responsibility. Lind's word isn't enough by itself, but with two of us saying it's okay, Dragon will just have to get over it."
Meanwhile, Baterilla, South Blue
'Damn. The brochure said this place was a bit of a tourist stop, but it's practically dead here. Why isn't anyone on the streets?'
Heavy footsteps have him glancing up the road where he catches first sight of one of the locals. "Umm, excuse me, do you mind-" Barker tries to wave the man down but the native just blows past him in a dead sprint, not even glancing the young man's way. 'Okay…that's a little odd.'
A second opportunity comes when he sees an elderly shopkeep hurriedly packing up her stall and carting its pieces inside. "Pardon me ma'am, could you tell me-"
"What are you doing walking about?!" the crone practically shrieks at him. "Haven't you heard that damn menace is back?! Get yourself home stupid boy!" the aged woman howls in his direction before hurrying inside herself and slamming the door shut.
And shuttering the blinds.
As well as locking it three times.
The shutters, not the door.
Frankly, Barker didn't even know they made locks for shutters. Like…how does that even work?
'We're going to go ahead and label that as 'Strike Two'. What is going on in this place?'
From the next street over, a crash of smashing wood followed quickly by a child's scream!
'And that makes three!' With a great push of his legs, Barker parkours himself up to the terraces, bouncing off a green & white awning to land atop the roof in a crouch. While most of the insane movement techniques Jack had showed off to him were still out of his reach, he'd be damned if he wasn't pushing himself closer to them every chance he got.
With an aerial viewpoint now available to him, the source of the disturbance is obvious.
Super Sparrows.
Only…these didn't seem anything like the friendly and docile 'Kiwi' that Jack always had with him.
There were eight of them. Six big and thug-like. Tearing apart the street marketplace like bears at a campgrounds. Food carts were smashed and overturned, their wares all either pulped or ravenously torn into. Windows were shattered. Storefronts ruined. And not a human soul in sight trying to stop them.
Leading the band of avian troublemakers were a male and female pair.
The girl, smallest of the group, Barker dismissed, even if it was a little weird that the animal had a pink bow in its feathers. The male however looked mean. Dark plumage, scarred up face and body, a solid black eyepatch over its...wait, what in the what? An eyepatch? Where would..? How did a wild animal even..?
Another child's scream pulls the teenager's eyes downward to a half-collapsed stall of wood and tarp. Only now that he's looking can he actually see them. An older sister shielding a younger one. The two huddled together and shaking as the nearest Sparrow continues to forage and rip apart the rubble atop them.
Barker's eyes narrow even as his knees begin to bend. Ever since branching off from Kivuruk he'd been trying to follow a simple guiding principle when faced with…whatever it was that the world had decided to throw at him that particular day.
Well…less of a 'principle' and more of a 'question'.
WWJD
'What Would Jack do?'
His heel kicks the ground 10 times in under a second -he disappears as a blur of lines- and then reappears in the middle of a spin-kick! Just as he'd seen his mentor execute half a hundred times in their spars!
For a brief moment there's a mountain of resistance on his leg. Even with hollow bones, the Super Sparrow still weighs more than an adult man, but sure enough a moment later his strength wins out! The offending animal goes snapping back, cartwheeling over the rubble it helped create with a pained 'Keee!', giving the two little girls a chance to make a run for it.
Seven pairs of eyes turn to him.
Well…six-and-a-half considering the eyepatch and all.
The lead Sparrow snarls at him, getting its band of miscreants to all form ranks and puff up like 'tough guys' all around it.
"Ha!" Barker laughs at the threat display. "You think you can use numbers to kick my ass?" The teenager cracks his knuckles as wooden puppet-like duplicates begin stepping out of his frame two at a time. "You're going to need better tactics than that if you wanna beat me, you glorified parrot!"
A Certain Marine Base, The Grand Line
The crack of the whip bites at his heels, getting him to push his screaming legs just a little bit harder!
Just what the hell kind of introduction course was this!?
His fellow conscript into this hell -a 24 year old officer from North Blue named Jero- begins to flag. Buckets of sweat are pouring off the younger man's face and his uniform is already falling apart to pieces. "C-Commodore! Please!" the blond begins to huff. "T-two minutes! Just give me two minutes!"
"HUH?!" A sadistic yet distinctly feminine voice sneers at the request. "What was that Lieutenant? Did you say something?" Kujaku, user of the Whip-Whip Fruit and granddaughter of 'Great Staff Officer' Tsuru questions with an ugly scorn lacing her voice. "I know I didn't just hear a complaint after only eight hours!" The whip cracks around them, getting the local geography to rearrange itself at her Fruit's command. "Is that what I heard Lieutenant!"
"N-no ma'am! I just-" One of the clay Golems from earlier crashes down in front of them! A titanic gray fist comes flying forward- 'Soru!'
And it is through sheer instinct that Mori tackles his colleague out of the way of being pancaked again. The two go sprawling along the ground, even as the terrain shifts around them for the umpteenth time. Spiked walls spring from the earth. Stones shift into complex traps. From above it all a Rear Admiral with green hair and an oversized Marine cap sits atop a perch staring down at them.
"Hot damn! Was that an honest to god use of one of the rokushiki I just spotted?" Prince Grus almost smiles. "You've been holding out on us Lieutenant Mori. Guess we'll have to kick this intro up a notch won't we?"
Mori doesn't whimper.
Mori is a father and an adult man. And grown men do not whimper.
But…just what in god's name kind of post had he been signed up for?
He was only supposed to be support staff damnit!
"Damn it damn it! Stay still, why don't you!" Jean Ango lobbed weapon after weapon at the Level Three escapee, trying to pin the squirrelly bastard down. "Damn it! Why can't I hit you?!"
Swords and spears littered the dusty outcropping, each one heavily embedded into the earth with a small explosion of rock surrounding them.
This was ridiculous! No bounty target barely worth 50 mil could move like this! He was Jean Ango! The greatest 'sniper' this side of the Grand Line! The criminals he hunted usually fell -skewered straight through!- from just a few seconds under his assault!
And now this damned pretty boy was just dancing around it all! It was humiliating!
His target goes airborne! Leaping high into the sky along with one of the very weapons Jean had thrown at him.
'Well that's fine!' Jean flicks a switch under his sombrero and the arms of his cactus-hat rotate outwards to reveal two gun barrels. With a flick of a switch, two massive gouts of flame go roaring out, converging into a tremendous fireball to roast this-!
His footing destabilizes! The rocky ground splitting underneath him as the axe he had 'fired' not moments ago is returned to sender and buried into the earth right beside him!
With a startled cry Jean goes falling onto his back and bangs his head painfully on the way down. He tries to spring back up as quick as he can…but the ex-pirate now-escapee is already standing over him. One fist pulled back and ready to end things.
"T-This isn't where I end, you hear me?!" He spits defiance at the unusually taciturn bounty mark. "I'm Jean Ango! I've already made millions catching you Impel Downers! Tens of millions! And once I catch enough of you and team up with Jack Sparrow, we'll be the greatest bounty duo that ever lived! You hear me?!"
His executioner shifts, readying for the finishing blow and despite himself…Jean averts his eyes before it happens.
…
…
Seconds pass. And then a few more after that. When he dares to turn his eyes back up, a little fearful that his killer was just waiting for him to look before committing the deed, he is startled to find…
An open hand.
Paired with a tiny smile.
"...I'm looking for Sparrow too." Nash finally spoke.
Somewhere in Paradise, The Grand Line
Ensign Mashingo scoped past the rocks again, doing his absolute damnedest not to cause a rustle. "Confirmed. Physical description matches." He takes a moment to swallow the knot in his throat before whispering again into the Den-Den-Mushi. "It's him. Level Four escapee, Daz Bonez. Known alias: 'Mr. One'. I'd stake my career on it."
"Is he alone?" His commander stresses from the other side of the line. "Our last word from Cipher Pol reported he was still following his previous employer, Sir Crocodile. Do you see any sign of the Ex-Warlord? Any sign of other escapees, even minor?"
Mashingo peers through the binoculars for the seventh time. "Negative!" he whisper-yells into the receiver. "Or-ah! That is! Negative on any other suspicious persons sir! As best I can tell he is alone!"
"...but that doesn't necessarily mean that he is." His boss sounds heavily contemplative from the other side of the line. "For the moment Ensign, hang back and do not engage. I repeat, you are to observe only. Do your best to keep eyes on him and report back every thirty minutes. I'm going to start making some calls. Both Vice-Admirals Lonz and Hototogisu should be in area, we'll get their input on this. Do you understand?"
…
…
"Ensign, are you still there? Report! Ensign Mashin- KA-CHK!" The snail phone is hung up with a soft click, preventing any hopes of the Marine's muffled screams from making it past the iron-like grip over his mouth. Moisture slowly drains through the man's skin, drying him out to mummify in real time.
"Would you like to know one of the very few things I enjoyed about being in Impel Down?" The Sand Logia asks with a cigar-filled smile.
The husk of Ensign Mashingo drops to the ground, skin leathery and every organ thoroughly shriveled. "Even though it was a prison, there never were any rats scurrying around."
Onigashima, The New World
"Nya~ The boss sure is pissy these days isn't he?" Ringo asked his fellows in the CATS squadron, a yellow paw scratching at his oversized belly.
"Meyahahaha! That's true!" Neko Kamen chimed in with a loud boisterous laugh. "What do you suppose has him in such a twist? Has to be something more than just sleeping on the wrong side of the bed wouldn't you say?"
Makina rolled her eyes at what apparently passed for chit chat among her fellow Beast Pirates. Fellow 'Who's-Who Pirates' in truth, not that they've actually held that title since Lord Kaido subsumed their whole crew into his own. "Do you morons really need help putting two and two together? It started when that new Warlord got named to the post. The Cipher Pol agent."
"Nya~" Ringo purred in response. An action that may have been cute from someone else, but on the SMILE-user's odd scrunched up face was simply off-putting. "Why would something like that matter? Does the boss know him?"
Taishiro hummed quietly from the corner. The smug little idiot only ever speaking when it was to prove he was better than someone else. "Don't you remember? The boss used to be CP9 himself. Allegedly a rising star on-par with the infamous Rob Lucci. Of course…" Taishiro spread his arms out, palms facing upward. "All it took was one little mistake and they dropped him, didn't they? One screw up and they kicked him off to prison. All those years of faithful service naught for a thing."
"And it still pisses me off!" Their leader announces his presence, kicking the door to the Neko-kafé open and getting more than one member of his ex-crew to jump. "What makes this new guy so special huh?" Who's-Who grit his teeth to the room. "I fail one mission and get thrown out with yesterday's garbage but he turns actual traitor and then gets a goddamn Warlord's chair?!"
The Ancient Zoan-user plopped down angrily in his seat and pulled Makina into his lap to help settle his mood. "That uppity punk steps one pinky toe into the New World and his ass is gonna have to answer to me! You all hear that!" Sabertooth fangs extended from his mouth as he began to shift into his hybrid state. "He'll come to realize that in this place, cats don't just play with sparrows…" Muscles ballooned, adding whole meters to his already impressive height.
"..they devour them."
Back on Baltigo
'Kind of a big table just for the four of us…' "Is this all we're expecting?" I cast a lazy eye over the empty chairs that exist between myself and the two generals. Giberson is also present, but he's… seemingly a bit out of it. A bottle of expensive liquor practically glued to his lips. If I didn't know he was the head of an entire black market empire, it would be an easy thing to casually dismiss the man as an old drunk. As it is, I genuinely can't tell how much of the alcoholism is real and how much is just a character that the man is putting on.
Lindbergh I'm surprised to see is quite a bit shorter in person than I had imagined. I of course never thought of him as a tall individual, the manga series and our chats through a television screen dissuaded any notions such as that, but I wasn't quite picturing someone who's four foot nuthin'.
It is also worth noting that of the four of us present in the room, his is the highest level. Granted, he's only beating me out by three -and with a brutal Min/Max stat distribution in favor of his mental ones-, but it's still an impressive achievement regardless. Especially since he's the only one of Dragon's generals besides Betty whom I would have mentally classified as a 'support unit'.
'I wonder if he's got any tech hidden up his sleeve that makes use of Electro or the Sulong form.' What little we've seen of him in the anime would suggest no…he's far more of a machinist than a dabbler in biochemistry like Chopper…but if it were true it would certainly lend a lot of credence to how he became the only R.A. general without a Devil Fruit. I don't think a jetpack and a few futuristic firearms can get you that position on their own.
'Glad to see his profile has no signs of that 'secret traitor' idea that was an oh so popular fan theory back in my days as a reader. I honestly don't know how I'd proceed if I had to work around a complication like that.'
Betty hums not-so-innocently at my comment. "Is there someone in particular you were hoping for?" she asks curiously, leaning forward to rest her chin atop her interlocked fingers.
The general's covered up her assets…a little, some mockery of a woman's cardigan, but really I think it's just a gambit to distract me. Or maybe it's bait to have me call her on it again. Either way, it's not a game I'm interested in engaging with. Especially not with that obvious amusement dancing in her eye.
"Hack the fishman, if possible." I return blandly. "I'm still a little annoyed that I haven't gotten to thank him for what he did. But if he's out on assignment right now, then that's fine. I imagine that you people are rather 'all hands on deck' these days."
"Quite so." Lindbergh speaks up, plopping a high stack of folders onto the table as he takes his seat. "This new 'World Military Draft' that's just been announced is sure to shake up the map in a number of places." He picks up one of the packets, seemingly at random. "The news is barely 72 hours old and already we're having to reassess a number of Kingdoms where our efforts have been stalled. If so many nations' best soldiers are really about to be stripped and rerouted for peacekeeping in the New World…" The cat mink trails off, letting the possibilities speak for themselves. "But that's not a discussion for right now." The general centers up, giving me his undivided focus. "Jack. What did you want to talk about?"
"Me?" I breathed a little incredulously. "I didn't ask for this meeting. Don't you remember our conversation on the ship? I came here for him." I jab a thumb in Giberson's direction, ignoring the ambient noise of the man chugging down another bottle. "You two are the ones who didn't just have him meet me on the shore. Why don't you tell me what it is you want?"
Lindbergh and Betty share a silent look, communicating something to each other just through their eyes. "We had an agent in Sabaody investigate Grove 44 based on your words from our last talk." The cat begins, gloved hands folded in front of him. "Sure enough, you were right. Kuma is there, guarding a certain pirate crew's ship." He levels an eyebrow at me. "You didn't feel like mentioning to us that it belongs to the 'Straw Hats'? If we go through with an operation to rescue him, that ship will probably be left vulnerable to the first interested party that comes along, you realize that right?"
I suppress a smile. 'That'll be Pandaman's problem.' Let him figure it out. I've no negative feelings towards 'The Thousand Sunny', in fact I quite rather like the ship, but…it's really no skin off my bones if it gets scuttled. Stripped. Repurposed. Commandeered, what have you. "Is that a deal breaker for you people?" I question. "I'm sure your organization benefited quite a lot from what they did at Enies Lobby, but surely you don't owe them that much, do you?"
The two generals share a brief glance again. "There are…reasons we won't get into about why we want Monkey D. Luffy to remain being active. Beyond the obvious disruptive element his crew seems to bring about everywhere they go." Betty answers. "Still, you are correct. Bartholomew is more important. As soon as we can put an adequate group together, we have every intention of going to get him."
The woman leans forward on the table, her eyes peeking over her sunglasses. "We'd like to offer you an invitation to join that, but first I have a question." Her purple eyes narrow slightly. "You mentioned to Lind that you were telling us where he was because of a 'promise' to someone important to him? Before anything else I'd like to hear who this mystery person was."
"Sure." I answer easily enough, seeing no harm in sharing the info. "It was his mother. I met her briefly after a little...squabble…I had with some rival hunters in Sorbet. Was also the same day I first met the big man himself. The rumors warn you of course of how large he is in person, but nothing quite prepares you for a seven meter man suddenly just being there mid-combat. Gave me a spook, I'll tell you that."
I expect to land a light chuckle with my audience at the brief re-telling. Maybe a commiserating joke about how 'yes', Kuma can give quite a scare with his ability to warp around in complete silence. Instead though…I get confusion from one general and a deep heavy-set frown from the other.
"Jack," Lindbergh begins. "Kuma's mother passed away before Bartholomew was even ten. His father just a few years later. Both while as slaves to the Celestial Dragons. Who in Zunesha's name did you talk to?"
Now it's my turn to blink dumbly across the table. "...his mother?" I try the words again, even if they come out hitched and with a furrowed brow. "Connie. The Dowager Queen? She even told me stories about when Kuma was a child. Granted her mind was a bit…addled…but it didn't seem so bad that she'd mistake…"
And I realize that no one is listening to me anymore.
"Has she really degraded that badly?" Lindbergh whisper-speaks to his fellow R.A. member. "I thought we had a caretaker watching her. Valentine? Vasili? Something with a 'V'?"
"We do." Betty answered back in a quiet hush. "He described the disease as 'manageable'. Good days and bad ones." her voice has a distinct annoyance to it, like she wanted to call up the individual in question and scream at him. "Childhood stories of Kuma though? What is that about? Even in the worst stages, she shouldn't be making up false memories."
"They may not be false so much as 'muddied'." The mink offers as a counter. "When the mind begins to fall apart…she could be confusing things that happened with her son Bulldog. Or maybe events that happened while Bonney was in her care?"
The familiar name perks my ears.
It's entirely possible to be a coincidence…but considering how in 'One Piece' everything just loves to be connected…
"That's not 'Jewelry Bonney' you're talking about is it?" I interrupt the duo, getting both sets of eyes back on me. "Because if it is, I think I really do need to hear Kuma's story. Clearly I've been operating under a lot of misapprehensions and to speak quite frankly I'm starting to get tired of it."
One final silent message passes between the generals before Lindbergh slowly sighs and then pulls off his goggles, revealing his overworked eyes for the first time. "To understand Bartholomew's story we need to go back nearly four decades in the past. Fourteen years before Gold Roger announced 'The Great Age of Piracy', there was a small independent Kingdom in West Blue…" Lindbergh's voice turns harrowed.
"...by the name of 'God Valley'."
Some Time Later
Jesus Christ. I need a cigarette.
I've never exactly been a smoker. Tried it once in my previous life and didn't much care for it.
But in this moment right now, I really feel like I could use one of those little cancer sticks. They're supposed to de-stress you right?
For the time being I'm going to ignore all the revelations I just received in regards to the true age/lineage of Jewelry Bonney. No doubt that little nuclear bomb will cause an uncomfortable stir in the fanart community back home when Oda decides to drop it. Assuming he hasn't already. 'Who fuckin' knows how time works cross-dimensionally.'
I'm also going to put aside any 'self congratulatory' pats on the back for finally having a proper plan in place for my nigh-impossible 'Save Bartholomew Kuma' [Quest].
Because god damn.
'God Valley'. What a shitshow.
This wasn't the first time I'd ever encountered the name of course. A teaser of it got dropped mid-Wano right around the time when Kaido and Big Mom were announcing their little team up on Onigashima to the world at large. According to Sengoku, it was where Vice-Admiral Garp earned his famed moniker 'Hero of the Marines'. The site of a cataclysmic battle that somehow involved just about every major party imaginable. The Marines, the Roger Pirates, an unknown number of Celestial Dragons and, most interestingly of all, -at least for the purposes of foreshadowing in Oda's grand story-, the crew of some great big boogeyman of the past known as Rocks D. Xebec.
Though it's worth pointing out that all of those facts beyond the very first were kept away from the world's newspapers.
'And now I have a different story of what happened there.'
A ghoulish hunting competition. One that supposedly takes place in a different location every three years. A hundred-thousand souls hunted to extinction for...for what exactly?
There's obviously a few parallels to Ohara. The ocean it took place in is the same. The island being deleted off of all future maps is the same. But the major critical difference -at least in the way the Revolutionaries told the story- is that…the inhabitants of God Valley didn't do anything wrong.
Now whether or not the scholars of Ohara were 'wrong' for breaking the taboo of studying Poneglyphs and the Void Century…that's a level of semantics I don't want to get into at this time. We could argue in circles about it for days. The point is they knew the risks of that business when they got into it. When destruction came for them it wasn't random. Professor Clover and his colleagues met their fate with a certain resigned acceptance. They recognized the potential consequences and pushed forward with their research anyway.
The country of God Valley on the other hand was exterminated for...for entertainment?
I know they say you shouldn't believe any story someone tells you at face value. You never know what sort of biases or small changes the narrator may have slipped in. And I could tell Lindbergh was holding a few details back.
But god fuck this shit is pretty damning.
What I don't understand, what I'm struggling to wrap my head around...is why the Five Elders would sign off on such a thing?
I know I haven't really delved into my feelings on Celestial Dragons in the past. It's a subject I've been deliberately avoiding because, well…unlike most of the One Piece fanbase that I spoke with back on Earth, I don't…really see them as evil.
I see them as children.
Spoiled rotten. Psychologically stunted. Pampered little princelings who's innate sense of right and wrong was wrecked and warped by their surroundings before they'd even outgrown being toddlers. Hell, you can see it in the way they have tantrums when just about anything goes wrong for them.
They're not inherently wicked. They're just…children. Products of their fucked up environment.
The Five Elders are the only ones I saw differently. They're adults. They're statesmen. They're a higher breed of antagonist. A completely different species almost. Where other shonen series have 'Big Bads' who are powerhouses of physical or magical might, these men are instead powerhouses of political savvy.
Brutal, cunning, and ruthless men who wouldn't even blink at the idea of sacrificing ten thousand in order to preserve a million.
Yes, they're not good people. I've no aspirations of thinking something as silly as that. But in all my time as a reader of One Piece, I never thought they did anything without a reason.
The extermination of Ohara? That had a reason. The Oharans were digging into subjects the Five Elders wanted left alone.
The striking of St. Charlos resulting in an Admiral going to Sabaody? That had a reason. They need to maintain the belief of 'untouchability' that they've purposely built around the World Nobles.
If those spoiled children aren't acting as a societal buffer to soak up all the pent-up hate and fear and resentment of the common citizen…then those or any other negative feelings might just end up being directed at the Elders themselves. And that certainly isn't something the old men could ever allow for.
They need to wield absolute power without people ever directing anything their way bar complete and total reverence.
It really is a brilliant system they've managed to set up.
Which is why I'm so confused by these secret mass slaughters they supposedly allow the lesser Celestial Dragons to indulge in.
If it's completely covered up, if there's no one to strike fear and obedience into…then what's the political benefit of it?
When Ohara was destroyed, when Luffy struck St. Charlos at Sabaody, the world knew. The Five Elders ensured it. They wanted -and still want- every person in every house of every town of every country to know the consequences of breaking the taboos they've publicly set. That's the world they've built. That's the one they want to rule.
But God Valley…indulging those fat children's cruelty for nothing except for what appears to be cruelty's sake? It…it doesn't follow the pattern I know. It doesn't match up with how I thought of those men.
It seems almost…cartoonishly evil.
What's the point? Where's the benefit?
I just…I don't understand what they gain out of allowing that?
"Something on your mind youngblood?" Giberson stumbles into view, a new bottle in his grip and getting me to shelf my ponderings over The Five Elders for a moment.
"Nothing worth delving into out loud." I say with a sigh before turning to face him fully. I give another glance over of his [Observe] profile, looking for anything I need be concerned with before just closing the window and moving on.
It's curious that despite a moniker like 'Warehouse Kingpin' or being one of the 'Emperors of the Underworld', the man doesn't actually have a bounty to his name. I suppose much like with his peer 'Big News Morgans', the man must have some sort of arrangement worked out with the higher ups. A 'he's more useful alive' type of deal. "So, is it finally time for our chat then? What is it you want for a White Snail?"
Not missing a beat, the warehouseman pulls a single photograph from his breast pocket and flicks it to my waiting fingers.
Turning it over, it's a picture of...a Marine? Taken from a significant distance as well I'd say, seeing as how the subject doesn't seem to be aware of the camera. Uniform is non-distinct. No rank insignias of any kind. That puts him as a simple Petty Officer if not just a plain Seaman or lower. On the back of the polaroid is…a few numbers scrawled in pen. Assuming that's when it was taken, that dates this to be as recent as just a few months ago.
"My grandson." Giberson answers the unasked question. "Never actually met the young man, but reports say he's fairly bright. Got a long future ahead of him." The old timer pauses to tilt his head back and take a few swigs. "Of course that destiny took a rather sharp turn recently. Lad somehow got his hands on a newly reincarnated Devil Fruit." Giberson pauses to drunkenly hiccup. "While normally that'd be a boon to a young fella at the start of his career, in this case it's a curse. Damn thing was a Paramecia. One that lets him create gelatin." The man's voice dips. "In other words, a food-based Devil Fruit."
'Ohhh fuck. I can already see where this is going.' I think back to Hornigold's lieutenant -not the one who impressed me, but the other one-, Cornelia I believe her name was. The woman who came down with a sudden case of drowning two minutes after I met her.
If memory serves, I do recall thinking a bit of surprise that a food-based Fruit had managed to escape Big Mom's notice. The woman basically has a damn monopoly on them.
'I suppose it would have been too much to ask to have it happen twice in a row.'
"Mah," Giberson hums, pulling several more items from the innards of his coat. "I can see from your face that you've already surmised what I was going to say next. I'll skip ahead then. This is his Vivre card. I had it made in secret a few years ago. Based on its directionality I can say whoever kidnapped him already has him in the Grand Line, though based on time passed, they likely haven't made it to the New World yet. Certainly not Linlin's territory."
I hum along, pocketing the little paper. "Do you know who took him?"
"No." Giberson announces before taking another light slip. "But I know who he's going to be passed off to."
A second photograph joins the first in my hand. A wedding picture with a bright red circle sketched over the head of one of the guests. A big outrageously fat man with bandages obscuring his right eye and long curly green hair that travels all the way down to his back.
"Charlotte Kanten, Linlin's 27th son. He governs Jelly island and holds the title 'Minister of Agar'. He and one of his direct siblings, Charlotte Kato, will be the ones doing the exchange. As for the when or where parts of that equation I'm afraid I have little info to offer. We might have a week, we might have three. So I'd appreciate some expediency on this if possible. Get my grandson out of whatever trouble has found him and the White Den-Den-Mushi is yours."
"And the ones who kidnapped him?" I ask.
"Dealer's choice." Giberson replies. "Either you kill 'em or I arrange for it myself after you tell me who they were." A final item is passed my way. "This is a small cutting of my Vivre card. Please don't get the two of them confused. I'll be expecting it back later. Use it to find me once the job is done and I'll have payment ready."
I look again at the picture of the Marine. 'Hmph. Seems simple enough.' "A final question before I agree to this," I begin to ask. "You're on good terms with Big Mom and the Charlotte family as a whole right? Not to complain about me getting what I want, but isn't there a more diplomatic way to go about this than contracting someone like me?"
Giberson's large red nose sniffs, letting his mustache ruffle along his lip. "No one knows about my relation to the boy." he informs. "You think he could be a Marine if anyone in the upper chain knew who his grandfather was? More than that, cordial relationship or not, Linlin would never allow a Fruit like his to leave her territory willingly. He'll be bound in chains and forcibly wed to one of her daughters within a fortnight. Assuming of course Kanten doesn't have something even more unspeakable planned."
"Something worse than standing at the altar while gagged and covered in irons?" I try to jest with a tiny smile. 'Not to mention, that quite a lot of Linlin's children just look…ugh…no thank you. Talk about a full body shudder.'
Giberson regards me quite dully at the attempt.
'Damn, I just can not land a joke today, can I?'
"Do you know who the longest serving member of the Big Mom Pirates is?" he asks, voice suddenly less flighty and losing some of its drunken quality.
My eyebrow raises at the sudden non-sequitur. "I don't suppose I'm allowed to answer Linlin herself?"
"It's her Executive Chef. Streusen." The man plainly replies. "He's over 90 years old and has been alongside Linlin the last six decades." Two hands rise up to grip my shoulders. "What I'm about to tell you, you must keep a secret." His voice lowers into a whisper. "I don't know if there are any higher ups in the Marines who know it, but I'm pretty sure they don't. Five years ago I think Streusen may have been the only one in the world who knew…until he tried drinking me under the table during Linlin's 39th wedding reception and then bibulously blurted it to me."
What followed after was information that every One Piece reader knows but notably doesn't talk about. Not to themselves and not to other people in the community.
It tends to make people a bit squeamish.
The uncomfortable subject…of the Mother Carmel incident and exactly how it was Charlotte Linlin gained her Soul-Soul powers.
Or in other words, that one can steal Devil Fruits by simply cannibalizing the other person whole.
My eyes minutely widen as I realize why Giberson is telling me this when in all other scenarios he'd be taking it to his grave. Let alone telling it to a Warlord he barely knows.
If Streusen once imbibed enough cooking sherry to spill the secret to him…then there's a non-zero chance that Kanten somehow learned it as well. And since he's the 'Minister of Agar' who governs 'Jelly Island'...
Giberson sees I've connected the dots. "It's the Fruit he's been waiting for his entire life."
It's not the possibility he thinks is going to occur. In his mind it might be less than a 1% chance. But the fact that there's a chance at all…
I silently extend my hand and with a firm shake the deal is made. Giberson cements it with a stiff nod and then slides seamlessly back into character. Glugging down wine like a-
Alert!
Your [Den-Den-Mushi] is ringing!
The notification gets a quick side-eye from me. Really just a glance, and yet my new associate tracks onto it immediately. "Something tha' matter?" he asks, pulling the bottle away from his lips.
A small grunt sounds in my throat as a response. "Someone's trying to call me. I can feel it when a snail I have in storage is ringing. One moment," My hand sinks into the [Inventory] to withdraw the rose colored animal from its housing. "Revolutionaries aren't going to swarm me if I accept calls on this island right?"
"Mah" Giberson smacks his lips alongside another sniff of his nose. "I'd make no expectations of privacy. Black Den-Den-Mushi's will be eavesdropping on every call that comes in for miles around. But it's not going to trigger some alert if that's what you're concerned about."
'Hmm. Well I suppose that's the best I can ask for.' Letting the iconic 'Puru-puru-puru-puru' sound once into the air, I then bring the receiver to my lips. "Whoever this is, I hope it's important." I speak in place of a more traditional 'Hello'. "I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."
"Jack Sparrow," An elderly woman's voice comes out in greeting, one whose aged timbre I don't immediately recognize. At least I don't think I know anyone who's voice is that scratchy. "Sengoku told me you'd be cheeky. How soon would you be able to reach Jesteria? It's a small one-town country in the second half of Paradise."
My brow furrows at the question that has traces of 'demand' in its tone, even as my mind begins to calculate the answer.
Charts and compasses are next to useless when navigating island-to-island in the Grand Line, we all know this, but let it not be said they aren't useful for a more 'zoomed out' sort of view. Maps still exist to tell you where everything is roughly in relation to everything else. And based on a loose estimation of where I am right now from the boat ride that brought me here…
"Maybe a day. A little quicker if I rush it." I answer, thinking back to the maps I've seen. "Why? Whom am I speaking to right now?"
An annoyed chuff comes through the line. Somewhat similar to the noise I often heard my grandmother use back in my first life. "This is Vice-Admiral Tsuru."
If any reaction at the name makes it to my face, Giberson thankfully remains silent on it. Even with my new position, it's not every day you interface with one of the 'Legendary Marine Trio'. Now all I need is to talk to Garp at some point and I'll complete the set.
"Approximately two hours ago, following a lead from CP7, Marine reconnaissance confirmed the presence of Level Four escapee, Daz Bonez, formerly known as 'Mr. One' of Baroque Works, to be on the island." The woman continues. "It is strongly believed that your predecessor, Sir Crocodile, is hiding in the same location."
There's sounds of a paper being lifted. "Vice-Admiral Lonz is already in the process of blockading the island and one of my adjutants, Vice-Admiral Hototogisu, is en-route as well. Per the rules of your agreement with the World Government, you are instructed to coordinate with them both and work in tandem to capture any criminal elements on the island. If capture is not possible, neutralization is also acceptable."
I take a moment to glance at Giberson -thinking of the rather important bargain we just finished striking- and let out an annoyed sigh, even as the 'Ding!' of a new [Quest] sounds in the corner. "I don't suppose I'm allowed to take a rain-check on this am I?"
"No."
I chuckled. "Yeah, I didn't really think so."
You know, cards on the table, I can't say I really had any plans of facing off against a Post-Marineford Crocodile. And certainly not so soon into my new career.
But I suppose this is the deal I made, isn't it?
Well, you know what they say.
Maximum effort.
A/N 1: As a reminder, since Jack's knowledge stops at the final page of Wano, he doesn't know the Five Elders are literally demons or whatever it is Oda is doing with them and those Awakened Fruits/teleportation circles. Jack's opinions/views are all derived from Pre-Egghead knowledge.
A/N 2: On the subject of 'God Valley', Lindbergh did leave out the fact that the country was excessively rich in natural resources and this factored into its selection. It's in his interest to paint the WG and Five Elders as badly as possible. (Even when they're already pretty damn far in the morally wrong.)
A/N 3: The character Jean Ango is a canon bounty hunter from the Dressrosa Arc. If you can't remember him, then Google is your friend.
A/N 4: I've always thought of the 'World Military Draft' that occurs in the canon timeskip as Akainu's brainchild (perhaps his first major decree as Fleet Admiral), but I couldn't find anything that actually said it was. Therefore I've decided to have it be one of the last acts of Sengoku. I also chose this because the exact time when Aokiji and Akainu have their 10 day battle on Punk Hazard is a bit fuzzy.
A/N 5: Lindbergh's introduction in the anime has him fight with a "Cold Shooter". A sci-fi weapon that shoots ice and snow. Do weapons like this still count as 'firearms'? A question for the ages, I'm sure.