Chapter Text
A galleon sailed beneath sunny skies in the first half of the Grand Line. One could be forgiven for not noticing the sun, as the galleon was decorated in such eye-searingly garish colors as to arrest the eyes. And then beat them senseless.
In the captain’s quarters, a middle-aged man wearing a dress suit covered in ruffles and lace, nearly as hideously-colored as the galleon, paced, pulling at his chin as he did. Combined with his exceptionally long and narrow skull, gave the impression his face was gradually stretching. “My plan is based on sound conjectures derived from extensive observation,” he began. “Firstly, pirates are attracted to wealth and financial assets that are not theirs.”
Across the room, a young man rocked the front legs of his chair off the floor. He tapped an erratic beat on the heavy, beige material covering his leg and the rest of his body. “Just say they like to steal, Captain.”
The older man paused mid-stride. “I did. Where was I?”
A woman, hair the same cornsilk color as the young man, arranged in a spiral around her head, rearranged the cloak draped around her shoulders and leaned forward on the couch. “Your brilliant observations of pirates, Captain Rod.”
“Ah, of course.” Captain Rod resumed pacing. “Pirates prefer to acquire wealth illegally, from those who are ill-equipped to offer resistance beyond verbal entreaties to empathy.”
“Can ya say that with fewer million Beri words, perfesser?” The fourth member of the group was a short, squat figure. Their skull was a perfect square as, indeed, was most of their body. They were a slate grey color except for their deep-green eyes, and so the gaudy, flowing dress and elaborate crimson beehive wig were a stark contrast.
“I don’t think Captain can use any smaller words, Cement-head,” the younger man snarked.
The target of the insult narrowed his eyes, lips creaking into a snarl. “Watch it, hotfoot, or I’ll snuff you like a candle.”
“Don’t mind them, Captain Rod,” the woman cooed. “You explain things so well.”
“Sure,” the grouchy one grumbled, “it’s gettin’ him ta stop that’s hard.”
Captain Rod missed the complaint. “Thank you, Lieutenant Sally. I too, derive great satisfaction from my explaining things, but as our scouts reported that time is short, I shall have to accelerate this presentation.”
He extended one finger like a pointer to tap against a rolling blackboard. “The pirates will soon pass by our present location. Seeing a vessel with no apparent weaponry and a middle deck densely populated with persons garbed in what appears to be expensive jewelry and gold, they will naturally board.”
He spun the board, revealing a diagram on the other side. “At which point, Ensign JoJo and Lieutenant Sally will lead the remainder of our forces from belowdecks on either side, trapping the pirates in a classic pincer movement.”
Captain Rod swung out another board beside the first, this showing individual figures surrounded by others wielding carefully sketched swords and rifles. “Pirates, having no loyalty save to their vices, will adopt the approach colloquially known as, “Every man for themselves,” making it easy to isolate and exterminate them.”
He squinted at the illustration. “Please keep in mind that this will also apply to the two women on the crew, so perhaps it would be better phrased, “Every sentient for themselves.” The exception will be the pet, as it certainly lacks such capacity. Although research is limited on whether pirates have sufficient intelligence or self-awareness to qualify.”
Captain Rod turned his back on the others, mumbling, “I should dissect their brains once they’re dead to seek answers on this. . .”
“Hey, Pancake,” the grouchy one interjected. “Why can’t I stay below with Hotfoot?”
Captain Rod blinked rapidly. “Because you’re in the role of my amorous interest for the party, old friend.”
“I got that, but why can’t Sally do it?”
Lieutenant Sally nodded eagerly, but the captain shook his head. “The dress would never fit her, Sergeant. Her shoulders lack the dimensions. And I specifically selected that dress to match with your eyes.”
The sergeant crossed his arms and huffed, “Yeah, fine. It does fit good, but I want a different wig! I don’t like big hair!”
A low whistle issued from on-deck and Captain Rod donned a hat adorned with chains and glass jewelry, and nearly as tall and narrow as his head. “Now, everyone to their places!”
* * *
Rockstar stepped out of the Rear-Admiral’s office, deployment orders in hand. He kept his face carefully neutral, but ginned up some anxiety in case anyone was checking his Voice. It wasn’t hard.
He was, after all, a lone pirate – with a decent bounty of his own and serving an Emperor – walking around Marineford in broad daylight. Rockstar always liked his spiky red hair, even before he joined a crew named perfectly for him, because it made him stand out.
But as the infiltration expert of the Red-Haired Pirates, his hair offered a different advantage now. Since it was his most memorable feature, dyeing it dark black and slicking it down had the effect of disguising him perfectly.
At least, he hoped so. Otherwise Captain Shanks would have two people to rescue from Impel Down.
Rockstar silently ran through the procedures for presenting his orders to the supply ship as he approached, then moved to similar issues for his arrival at Impel Down. Benn and the others only barely talked Shanks out of attacking Impel Down full force to rescue Captain Buggy. Rockstar wouldn’t have minded watching Captain tear the place apart, but that would make it pretty clear there was a connection between an Emperor and what was supposed to be a small-time East Blue pirate. Which was something Captain Buggy didn’t want.
Which meant it was on him to get Captain’s oldest friend out, quietly. Which meant he couldn’t mess this up. He’d have to be careful, settle in as part of the staff while he found Captain Buggy and learned the routine of the security.
Rockstar snapped a sharp salute, remaining stone-faced while the captain of the ship looked over his travel orders. He was waved aboard and settled into an available berth. It was going to take time.
Hopefully Captain Buggy could hold out.
* * *
“Everyone, there’s a ship ahead!”
The Straw Hats gathered at the railing at Chopper’s shout. Everything about the galleon looked overdone. Elaborate figurehead and railings, the fittings around the portholes shining golden. As the Going Merry sailed closer, the pirates could see and hear a few dozen people on deck.
“It’s so bright,” Luffy exclaimed, leaning forward from his spot on Merry’s figurehead. “Is it a circus? Chopper, do you see any elephants or jugglers?”
The doctor called down in the negative as Usopp lowered one of his adjustable binocular lenses. “They’re just standing around talking.”
Nami swept the spyglass across the unknown vessel’s deck with a critical eye. “They sure look loaded, though. . .”
An eyebrow that curled in on itself filled her view. Sanji declared, “At your command I will run on feet like wings to take every treasure they possess, sweet Nami-love!”
“Great idea,” muttered Zoro from his spot at the far end of the gathering. “You join them, and we’ll keep sailing.”
Sanji glared in the swordsman’s direction. “Did you say something, mosshead, or was that another inarticulate burp?”
Any potential argument was interrupted by Nami lowering the spyglass, head shaking. “Most of the jewelry is fake. The shine is false. Some of the gold settings are real, though.”
She did some silent calculations. “Still not worth the time.”
Luffy pouted. “It’s not a circus, and they aren’t singing or dancing. There’s not even any food. Ooh, Sanji, can we have lunch?”
“We had lunch an hour ago!”
Robin leaned against the railing, appearing disinterested as eyes and ears formed on the other ship. Beside her (not too close, he wanted to give her space), Zoro braced both arms against the wood and let his Haki reach across the waves.
‘Huh, some decently strong people over there. Don’t feel scared, either.’
Zoro and Robin made eye contact, each reaching the same conclusion in their own way. Zoro gestured it was her call how to handle it. Robin said, “Captain, I believe the people on that ship are Marines attempting to trap us.”
Nami and Usopp began shaking their heads desperately and making shushing motions. In Robin’s defense, she and Zoro had not been on the crew long, so it was almost an understandable mistake to expect Luffy to pause and reassess in light of this new information.
“Really?” Luffy’s head spun 180 degrees to stare at Robin before shouting across the waves, “HEY, ARE YOU GUYS MARINES?!!!!”
The voice that answered sounded offended. “Certainly not! We are simply defenseless wealthy citizens, who would be helpless against any pirates that chose to attempt to rob us! Especially if they boarded our vessel!”
Zoro snorted. “He’s full of shit.”
Luffy whooped. “Let’s go!”
* * *
While all pirates dream of a life of wealth and high adventure, it can be a threadbare existence. There is, after all, no steady paycheck to cover food. Pirates, like predators of the jungle, are reliant on the availability of prey.
The Patchwork Pirates hadn’t entirely recouped their losses after the attempted shanghaiing of Nico Robin and Roronoa Zoro, but they were making progress. In fact, they were celebrating a recent successful attack against a merchant vessel. It was only carrying fruit, true, but fruit could be repurposed for daquiris. Which were great for parties. And so, Captain Recycle Suave ordered a celebration on deck. Just the thing to brighten everyone’s day. He even put on a demonstration of his dancing skills.
It was as he stepped back to take a break and have another drink, an unusual flash of color caught his eye. An orange hat, with a broad flat brim. It was actually quite a nice hat, and Captain Suave assumed one of his crew picked it up during that last raid. How rude not to offer it to him, their Captain!
He made his way to where the man was eating an impressive amount of food. Even Heap’s appetite was put to shame, and Captain Suave had seen him eat an entire rack of moose ribs, while they were still attached to the moose.
The man’s head was down, dark curly hair just visible around the brim. Suave tapped the peak of the hat. “Ahem.”
The face that grinned up at him was entirely foreign. “Yo. This is a nice party.”
“Why thank you, but who are you, and why are you on my ship?”
The man stood and Suave took a careful step back, hand drifting to his trusty cutlass, an almost-perfect copy of a family heirloom he once saw in the home of a neighborhood acquaintance growing up. The intruder placed his hands in front of his chest, palms together, and bowed. “Portgas D. Ace, it’s nice to meet you.”
“And I am Captain Recycle Sua. . .ve. . .” he trailed off as he caught a glimpse of the purple and white tattoo on the man’s back. He took a moment to ponder this, then whether he could repurpose his beloved ship into his coffin. “You are Firefist Ace of the Whitebeards?!”
“Yeah, that’s me.” The Second Division Commander seemed oblivious to how the entire crew skittered back, leaving him and Suave in a circle of empty space. “I didn’t mean to barge in, but you guys looked like you were having fun, and the food smelled really good.”
Perhaps Suave could repurpose this into a profitable alliance. “We are only too pleased to serve as your host. Is there anything you need?”
Ace took a bite out of a papaya. “Nope. Well, actually, have you seen a pirate calling himself Blackbeard?”
He went on to describe the man, but none of the crew claimed knowledge. Ace frowned and shrugged. “Worth a shot. I guess I should get going.”
Seeing the possibility of lucrative alliances fading, Suave thought fast. “Who has the latest newspaper? This Blackbeard may be mentioned there!”
The crew looked high and low, finally finding it folded up on Dumpy’s head. “I repurposed it into a hat, ‘cause mine got repurposed into a colander after that buckshot went through it last week,” he explained.
“Never mind that!” Suave snatched it away, unfolding the paper to scan it quickly.
Before he could turn one page, Firefist stopped him and leaned in to peer at a different article. His eyebrows disappeared beneath his hat, though what he said meant nothing to any of the Patchwork Pirates.
“What are you up to, Lu?”
* * *
Luffy flung himself across the waves to land in the midst of the partygoers. Who immediately threw aside their elaborate party dress, revealing Marine whites-and-blues underneath.
The first Marines to raise their weapons were scattered like dandelion seeds as Zoro tore through them, blades flashing in the sun. The decks erupted in battle as the rest of the Straw Hats joined them, only to encounter dozens more Marines pouring from the interior of the ship.
“Ocho Fleur: Clutch.” Four soldiers fell to the ground with pained gurgles, but more rushed to take their place. Robin fell back, needing a moment. The discomfort along the stiches on her arms was diminishing every day, but it wasn’t gone yet.
She did her best to stay on the periphery of the fight and avoid being surrounded, but as the battle progressed, wondered if that was a mistake. The Marines were trying to separate them. They seemed especially focused on her, Nami, and Zoro, while Luffy was entangled, literally with a tall, skinny man, sporting the epaulets of a captain. “Gum-Gum Whip!”
The Marine’s body went paper-thin and he easily limboed under the rubber limb. Zoro was blocking a dozen swords, but before he could counterattack, Luffy’s attack sent them flying overboard. Zoro snarled, “Those were mine!”
“Sorry, Zoro! This guy’s hard to hit!”
“Naturally, it would counterproductive to allow you to strike me. And with my Flat-Flat powers, you’ll never succeed with such crude attacks.” To prove the point, Captain Rod turned sideways, nearly disappearing from sight as he dodged Luffy’s next punch.
While Luffy blinked rapidly and began craning his neck to find his opponent, Robin detected a flash of light in her peripheral vision. She just had time to register it was the sun glinting off a scope before Zoro shouted, “36 Pound Cannon!”
The attack blew the sniper off the mast and out to sea. Behind Zoro, a person covered head-to-toe in a suit not unlike a beekeeper stalked forward. He raised two guns connected to a series of tanks on his back.
“Exploding Star!” Usopp’s attack struck perfectly, but the target took no notice as flames erupted from both barrels.
“Dragon Twister!” The attack kept the flames from reaching Zoro, but also fed and lifted them into the sky. Burning embers fell over the deck like snow.
“Wind feeds fire, Zoro,” Nami snapped. “Cyclone Tempo!”
She spun her Climatact, trying to draw the air away from the flames, but a wave of Marines attacked her, swords drawn. A dark shape intercepted them, kicks flying into soft bodies, shattering the charge. Sanji paused to draw from his cigarette. “Shit Swordsman, you’re putting Miss Nami in danger with your fuck-ups.”
Zoro, still dodging the flame-wielding Marine’s attacks, replied, “She’s a big girl, Cook.”
“Are you implying something about Miss Nami’s weight, you – “ Sanji was interrupted by a massive grey fist, more like a cinderblock, that slammed into his face.
The one responsible watched the cook go flying through the wall before turning on Nami. After pausing to push the wig out of his eyes with an annoyed huff, Sergeant Dour asked, “Why dontcha try and blow me away with that little breeze, cupcake?”
Nami took one step back as the Climatact slowly stopped spinning. She pressed a button and a metal antenna emerged. “You should be more worried about severe storms. Lightning Tempo!”
The electricity leapt from the weapon and stuck the sergeant dead-on. Nami waited, breathing heavily.
The smoke cleared. Sergeant Dour was unharmed, aside from the dress being scorched. He tore it off, now clad only in a pair of blue trunks and grinned, cracking his knuckles.
* * *
The way of the Swift Pirates was one of minimal risk. It meant the rewards were often less, but Captain Telmuth firmly believed in the philosophy that you couldn’t take it with you. That being the case, you couldn’t spend treasure when you were dead. Better to have a little less, but be around to enjoy it.
Even after his crew were torn up by that grouchy swordsman, caution remained the word. His crew wouldn’t get any healthier if they challenged a well-protected treasure galleon while at reduced strength. Cannons had a way of making injured pirates, dead pirates.
But the ship his lookout described that afternoon sounded helpless enough. Barely more than an oversized life raft. Crewed by no more than six. On the one hand, a raft didn’t suggest there would be much to take. On the other, the raft wasn’t near land, so it must have some supplies for anyone to still be alive. And with only six, it wouldn’t be that difficult a battle.
The raft changed course to approach, which lent support to the idea its passengers were in trouble, but they’d have something to pay for rescue, even if it was just food.
Appearances can be deceiving. The raft sailed close enough Telmuth could see it sported some sort of Jolly Roger, and then a mass of muscle in a mask that covered his entire head landed on the deck of Telmuth’s ship with a thunderous crack of boards.
Two women sprang off his shoulders a second later. The first woman drew two lassoes from her hips, each hooking one of his men, then flinging them at the muscleman, who laughed heartily as he snatched them out of the air with one hand, then slammed them headfirst into the deck.
The other woman wore a dark suit, cartwheeling and flipping between Telmuth’s men, slashing at them with a sword that sparked and crackled like lightning. Telmuth called for reinforcements, and several of his crew swung from the sails’ rigging.
To a one, they were plucked from the sky by shots that came so close together they sounded simultaneous.
Within minutes, his crew was dead, and Telmuth was trapped beneath the boot of the rival captain. He tried not to be sick as the man leered at him with a mouth missing several teeth. “We thank you for the supplies. Chasing one’s chance at fortune is hard work without food!”
The woman with the sword emerged from Telmuth’s own quarters. His pride as a Captain protested someone rifling his possessions without permission, but he was in no place to argue, even if he could have drawn enough breath. She held out the most recent newspaper. “Nico Robin’s left Alabasta, Captain. And that’s not all.”
The man scanned the paper, grin growing wider.
* * *
Chopper scanned the deck, darting here and there to avoid swords or spiked clubs. There were so many Marines! He hadn’t had time for a Rumble Ball and none of his friends could reach him.
No, he thought as he rammed into a Marine, launching him into three others. Chopper was a pirate, too. He could fight his own battles. Couldn’t he?
“Feeling confused without your masters?” A woman approached, wearing a big purple cloak, the hood hiding part of her face. She was smiling, her voice was sweet, but the words were cruel. “Do you want a carrot, you dumb animal?”
Chopper started to get angry. Why was she saying those things? She didn’t even know him! He switched to Heavy Point and rushed her, fist cocked back. She wrapped the cloak tighter around her and blended into the background. Chopper’s punch hit nothing. A second later, something kicked the back of his knee, making him crash to the deck. Another kick rattled his skull.
Zoro saw Chopper go down. He could feel where the lady was, but he couldn’t get close to this fire idiot to deal with him first.
“Go,” a familiar voice whispered in his ear. “I’ll cover you.”
Zoro went and Ensign Jojo laughed, aiming his dual flamethrowers in Zoro’s path. “Too easy.”
He depressed the triggers and. . .nothing happened. “What the heck?”
He tried again, with the same result. He reached over his shoulder to adjust the flow and noticed the tanks read as empty. “That can’t be right.”
“I would recommend you retreat before you are burned alive.”
From across the deck, Nico Robin pointed to his feet, which were surrounded by fuel pouring from the detached hoses on his tanks. Fuel spreading towards the embers burning across the ship.
The fuel ignited and Jojo casually stepped through the flames, letting it consume him. “My suit’s flame and impact resistance.” He grew steadily closer. “Let’s see if the Devil’s Child can say the same.”
Robin backed away. She could use Geppo or Soru, but if the World Government didn’t know she could use those, she’d prefer to keep it that way. A Rankyaku might. . .
She saw Usopp roll away from a Marine hefting a double-bladed axe. The marine swung the axe, and two arms caught his wrists and flipped him overboard. “Mr. Longnose, could you assist?”
Ensign Jojo laughed. “What’s he gonna do? I’m safe from chemical attacks too!”
Usopp reached into his bag. “I once fought an awful turtle monster that couldn’t be harmed inside his shell. I, of course, could pierce his shell. Shuriken Star!”
The shuriken flew, shearing through the tough material in three places. Ensign Jojo’s cocky air vanished in a screech as he ran for the railing, throwing aside his now ineffective and hampering outfit to jump into the sea.
Elsewhere, Chopper tried to clear his head.
“You poor, stupid critter,” the voice taunted. “You don’t even understand what’s happening, do you? Here, I’ll just put a leash on you. Then you can be my little pet, instead of theirs.”
Chopper felt fabric brush against his fur. He grabbed it and rolled, flinging Lieutenant Sally over him and headfirst into the deck. He got to his feet, leg throbbing where she kicked him. “You shouldn’t move too fast, you might be concussed now.”
She laughed, “Sure. Heal yourself then, doc.”
Her cloak moved like an octopus, and Chopper was caught flat-footed, legs snared. He saw her arm move, a flash of metal. He flinched as a clash rang in his ears, and found himself staring at Zoro’s back, daggers at his feet. The swordsman snarled, “Bad idea, lady.”
His swords flashed, faster than Chopper could follow, and the fabric holding Chopper fell to pieces, along with a lot of the rest of the cloak. Knives spilled from it. “I, I can still get away!”
She vanished, but within two steps, Yubashiri’s pommel crashed on the top of her skull. She dropped like a sack of rocks.
* * *
Hina watched Alabasta fall below the horizon. Her squadron was minus three ships and 70 sailors, but they couldn’t afford to delay any longer. The pirates were escaping, and the best chance of capture was hounding them until they grew tired enough to make a mistake. First, they were scheduled to meet a prison ship to hand over Crocodile and his agents, but it was supposed to meet them on their present course.
“Captain Hina!” Sergeant Tashigi nearly lost her balance as she rushed up, but caught herself at the last moment.
“Yes, Master Sergeant?” The sergeant’s mood improved dramatically at learning of Smoker’s survival. Even better, her resolve to capture Nico Robin and the other pirates had not wavered. It spoke to Tashigi’s commitment to Justice, not vengeance. At the moment, Tashigi was struggling to maintain a neutral expression. Her brows and lips kept twisting in frustration. “Captain, have you seen this story in the paper about Alabasta?”
Hina hadn’t, but as she read through it, could understand Tashigi’s feelings. Hina wasn’t so naïve as to think the World Government would allow the press to learn pirates defeated a Warlord bent on conquering Alabasta.
Still, she had been quite clear on everything she gleaned from her and her crew’s observations, from Crocodile and the other Baroque Works agents of their battles with the pirates and Nico Robin, and from Straw Hat’s own enthusiastic recounting.
Hina wondered if someone in Command was playing games, or merely illiterate.
* * *
Luffy was getting angry. The flat guy kept twisting and dodging Luffy’s punches. The Marine didn’t even care that his guys were getting hit when he dodged, even though he heard them call him Captain!
Captain Rod leapt at Luffy, body growing wider and thinner. “Flat-Flat: Smother.”
He wrapped Luffy up. Luffy tried to punch him, he couldn’t move his arms enough. “Cease your struggles and accept your gradual asphyxiation.”
Why was he talking about fixing Luffy’s butt? Luffy couldn’t take as deep a breath as usual, but he still had enough air to, “Gum-Gum Balloon!”
He swelled up and Captain Rod stretched with him. Luffy exhaled quick and shrank down. Before the Marine could shrink, Luffy started throwing punches. “Gum-Gum Gatling!”
This time Rod couldn’t dodge, rubber fists pummeling him no matter which direction they flew. Quickly deducing that holding on would produce only negative results, he released his grip and let the winds carry his thinned body out of reach.
He landed on a yardarm and surveyed the battle. Roughly 43% of the ship was on fire, which was within projections. But Ensign Jojo was not in sight, and Lieutenant Sally was unconscious and largely unclothed. That hadn’t been called for, why did she deviate from the plan?
It was quite warm out. The humidity was higher than expected, though not to the point of danger to him.
“Monsoon Tempo!”
Three balloons burst near some small fires. While the fires were extinguished, Captain Rod felt the moisture saturate the air around him. His flat edges began to curl. Sergeant Dour was supposed to deal with the weather manipulator. Why was he busy fighting that basic cook? The fight should be –
“Gum-Gum Rifle!”
Strawhat’s fist came flying towards him, rotating like a bullet as it did. Captain Rod tried to flatten out and avoid it, but his curled edges were caught in the twisting wake. He found himself jerked roughly off the yardarm and slammed into the mast.
‘Moderate cranial damage. Not inhibiting if not compounded.’
Luffy’s arm retracted, dragging Rod with him. To where Luffy’s other fist was waiting.
* * *
“Mutton Shot!”
“Blockhouse!”
Sanji’s kick landed perfectly, but the shitty Marine turned himself into a box again and just took it. Sanji upped the tempo, flipping into the air and sending a series of rapid-fire stomps on Sergeant Dour’s head. None of which seemed to do anything.
As soon as Sanji’s feet touched the deck, Dour shifted back to human form. “Blockbuster!”
Sanji spun and met the punch with a piledriver kick. The shockwave blew out the remaining fires around them. Neither fighter gave an inch, until Sanji shifted his plant leg slightly. Then he was leaping and rotating the foot braced against Dour’s fist as he whipped his other leg in a sweeping sidekick at the stocky Marine’s skull with a crunch.
Sanji landed in a crouch as Dour spun halfway. Backs to each other, they both stood straight. Dour cracked his neck and spit out a perfectly square tooth. “Not bad, stringbean. You kick better than your rep.”
“Then you ought to tell everyone who the real danger on this crew is, blockhead, before I crack you like a walnut.”
“Heh.” Sergeant Dour grinned. “Don’t get cocky, kid. You ain’t seen my Sunday best, yet. Mega Block!”
A low rumble filled the air as the sergeant began to grow. Sanji shifted to keep his footing as the galleon tilted from the sudden extra weight. His opponent grew to 20 feet, then 30. The other Straw Hats paused in wrapping up their fights to watch with a mixture of excitement (Luffy) and terror (Nami, Chopper, Usopp).
The bass of Dour’s voice shook Sanji’s bones. “WHAT YOU GONNA DO NOW, DEVIL PIRATES?”
Zoro skidded to a halt at the sergeant’s feet, two swords held at his side, parallel to each other. “Rising Towers!”
Sunlight flared across the blades as Zoro jumped, swords following in perfect vertical lines. The bow of the ship rose into the air as the Marine fell backwards. Two deep, smooth cuts ran up his body from navel to brow line.
Momentarily frozen in shock, Sanji recovered by the time Zoro landed and sheathed his swords. “What the hell, mosshead? He was mine!”
Zoro barely spared Sanji a glance. “Shoulda attacked him first, then.”
Sergeant Dour shrank to his original size, falling to his knees as he did. Unsteadily, he pushed himself up, clenching the fist that wasn’t pressed over his wounds. “I, I ain’t licked yet. Come on, I’ll take the lot o’ ya.”
Zoro looked at him, then at Sanji. “You gonna finish it, or do I?”
“Like hell I’d let you just carve up some guy that can’t fight properly,” Sanji muttered, adding under his breath, “fucking sword-nut.”
One kick was enough to end the fight and the sea fell silent again. To Nami’s dismay, there were hardly any gold, jewels, or money on board. To Luffy’s dismay, there was hardly any good food. To Robin’s dismay, there was little useful intelligence.
She did find something which explained certain comments the Marines made, but it did nothing to improve her mood. She held the broadsheets out to the others. “It would appear the Marines have certain misconceptions.”
The Devil Pirates
“Devil’s Child” Nico Robin $140,000,000 (Captain)
“Straw Hat” Monkey D. Luffy $93,000,000
“Tri-Blade Demon” Roronoa Zoro $87,000,000
“Weather Witch” Nami $20,000,000
“Stinky Feet” Usopp $12,000,000
“Swift Kicker” Sanji $4,000,000
“The Blue-Nosed Reindeer” Chopper $50 (pet)