"If it wasn't you, then who was it?" Robin pressed her lips together. "I saw it with my own eyes."
"What you see isn't always the truth," Kaguya said coldly. She tossed Robin aside, who fell to the ground. Turning her head slightly, Kaguya glanced at her and added, "I'm not so bored that I'd do something like that. If I really wanted to kill you all, I could've done it back in Ohara."
Robin bit her lip. She knew Kaguya had a point. But the person she saw looked exactly like Kaguya. There was no way she could be mistaken.
"Wait—" Kaguya suddenly turned her head, her eyes narrowing. "You're saying you saw someone who looked exactly like me?"
Night had fallen. A bright moon hung in the sky.
Kaguya sat on the sofa, lost in thought.
Logically, only Bon Clay's Clone-Clone Fruit could copy someone's appearance. But that Devil Fruit had one limitation—it required physical contact with the person first.
"Master, what are you thinking about?" Monet walked over softly, speaking gently.
"Nothing much," Kaguya replied. "Just a few trivial things. How's Robin now?"
"She left just a moment ago," Monet said with a smile. "I didn't expect Master to be so charming, to have so many admirers."
"More like enemies seeking revenge," Kaguya waved a hand dismissively. "Forget about her. Get some rest—we've got a grand performance tomorrow."
"Yes, Master," Monet said, walking over and wrapping her arms around Kaguya's. She leaned in close, her breath warm by Kaguya's ear, and spoke shyly, "It's a dark and windy night. I can't sleep. May I stay and accompany Master?"
"Of course," Kaguya smirked, lifting Monet's chin with her finger. "Since when did you become so forward?"
Monet smiled softly. "Master has so many beautiful women. If I'm not proactive, I won't even get leftovers."
"How dare you compare me to leftovers," Kaguya said with a wicked grin, her hand roaming freely over Monet's curves. "Let me give you a proper lesson."
Monet's eyes glimmered seductively, her brows curved gracefully like flowing spring water. Her soft and supple chest pressed gently against Kaguya, the sensation vivid and elastic.
Night deepened. All was silent.
On the snowy white bed, Monet lay dazed, her lips parted as she gasped for air. Her chest heaved violently, her skin glistening with sweat that shimmered under the moonlight.
Kaguya felt the silky smoothness beneath her fingers and instinctively gripped tighter.
Monet trembled all over, pushing against Kaguya, murmuring with a mixture of pain and plea, "Go to her... go find her..."
Kaguya pulled back the curtain beside her. Behind it—was Hancock.
Her eyes were glazed, face flushed, breath disordered. She had clearly been listening for quite a while.
Kaguya smirked, reached out, and grabbed Hancock's soft arm, gently pulling her in. The powerless woman fell into Kaguya's embrace as the curtain fell once again, rippling in the moonlight—
Navy Headquarters, G1 Fortress.
"How could the World Government possibly do such a thing? It's clearly slander. Frightening, isn't it?" Borsalino (Kizaru) lounged in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, speaking leisurely.
"This isn't the time for debate," Aokiji said, turning to Fujitora. "Where is the pirate fleet now?"
Fujitora leaned on his blade, voice low. "The first wave has already breached the Navy's outer defenses. They're heading toward the New World. If all goes as expected, we'll likely clash within a day."
"That fast?" Aokiji frowned slightly. "Deploy nearby naval fleets immediately. Be ready to intercept. We can't let them advance further!"
"Yes, sir!" a nearby marine responded and hurried off.
"By the way," Aokiji said, as if remembering something, "any movement from the Red-Haired Pirates?"
"None," Chaton replied while exhaling smoke. "They haven't made any major moves recently. But the Whitebeard Pirates and the Straw Hat crew have been quite active. They recently crossed into the New World and are heading toward Laugh Tale…"
"We can't let them advance so easily," Aokiji turned to Kizaru. "I'll leave this to you and Chaton."
"Looks like vacation's over," Kizaru stood up from his chair. "Let's hope this time isn't too disappointing."
The next morning, the sky was clear, sunlight bright. The early light of dawn carried a gentle warmth. A soft breeze stirred the curtains, bringing a refreshing coolness.
Kaguya disentangled herself from the intertwined limbs on the bed, stepped down, and reached for her clothes. She dressed quietly, left a note on the table, glanced at the still-sleeping Monet and Hancock, and walked out.
She had work to do.
After she left, a figure holding a small parasol tiptoed out from the shadows and crept to the door. Peeking through the crack, her eyes widened instantly.
High in the sky, Kaguya soared through the air at incredible speed. The blue sky and clouds reflected on the rippling sea below, shimmering with brilliant light.
Suddenly, she stopped midair, staring down at the sea's surface. Twisting her body downward, she dove straight into the water!
Her destination—Fishman Island.
Her goal—none other than Shirahoshi, the possessor of Poseidon, and the ancient weapon Pluto.
Since Uranus had surfaced on the Grand Line, it was only logical that the other two weapons would soon draw attention.
But as Kaguya arrived at Fishman Island, her eyes narrowed!
The once-prosperous Fishman District was now in ruins—rubble everywhere, broken walls and scorched marks from fire visible, along with dark red bloodstains. Slash marks crisscrossed the surfaces, bullet holes riddled the walls—this place had clearly seen fierce combat.
Crack!
A brittle sound echoed beneath her foot. Kaguya looked down to see she had stepped on a dried-up skeleton. From its shape, it was clear—it belonged to a merperson.
Kaguya's brows furrowed. She looked up and into the distance—corpses, turned to nothing but bones, were scattered all over the ground.
This place looked like it had gone through a fierce battle—or perhaps "massacre" would be more fitting. Judging from the skeletons strewn all over the ground, it was clear some time had already passed.
Kaguya crouched down and examined one of the bones. Though the corpses were dried and deformed, they remained largely intact. Their clothes were relatively clean, and many still bore expressions of horror. Empty eye sockets stared up at the sky, exuding an eerie aura.
Kaguya's eyes narrowed slightly—she had noticed something.
It wasn't exactly what she had expected. This might not have happened as long ago as she initially thought.
"Stop right there! Who are you?!"
Suddenly, several people emerged from the broken ruins nearby, weapons drawn as they surrounded her.
"Don't move! Hands on your head, or we shoot!" one of them barked, aiming his rifle directly at Kaguya.
But when the silver-haired girl slowly stood up, the man froze. Before him stood an impossibly beautiful girl, her skin pale as snow and features like a painting—an ethereal presence, like an orchid blooming in a hidden valley.
The others around him also stared in awe. None of them had ever seen someone so stunning; they were momentarily dazed.
"Looks like a misunderstanding. Sorry for the scare," the man lowered his gun and said, "We thought you were a pirate. My apologies."
The others followed suit and put down their weapons. But all of them looked pale, emaciated even, clearly suffering from malnutrition. Their clothes were ragged and old, like they hadn't changed in ages.
Kaguya also noticed something else—some of them didn't have the webbed hands or distinct features of Fishmen. These people were human.
"If you don't mind, you're welcome to rest at our place. You must be hungry. We can offer some tea and a little food," the middle-aged man slung his rifle over his back and smiled.
A scar-faced youth beside him grew anxious. "Captain Rog, we barely have enough food for ourselves. How can we feed a stranger?"
"It's fine," Rog waved his hand. "A guest is a guest—we can't turn her away."
"But—"
Before the youth could finish, Rog cut him off. "That's enough. Go get things ready."
The youth paused, then reluctantly walked off.
"Sorry about that. We've been through a lot here, and food is scarce. I hope you can understand their frustration," Rog said apologetically. "If you don't mind, come with us to our camp."
Kaguya gave him a long look. "If that's the case, then thank you."
"Think nothing of it," Rog replied cheerfully. "Helping each other out—it's only right."
Rog and his group led Kaguya through what remained of the town. As they passed through the ruins, they approached a forest. In the distance, the faint glow of a campfire and makeshift huts could be seen.
"What happened here?" Kaguya asked from behind them.
"Oh, you mean Fishman Island," Rog replied. "It happened not long ago—about a month back."
"A month ago?" Kaguya asked.
"Yes. Just over a month ago, this place was thriving. People lived in peace and prosperity," Rog said, looking back at the ruined town with a sigh. "But ever since the Marineford War, everything has changed."
From Rog's explanation, Kaguya learned that after the Marineford War, the global balance of power had drastically changed. Though the Navy didn't claim a full victory, they managed to kill Whitebeard—the man once known as the strongest in the world—and dealt a heavy blow to both the Whitebeard Pirates and their subordinate crews, causing massive losses and weakening them severely.
Thus, two of the Four Emperors' crews had fallen—Big Mom's and Kaido's. The Whitebeard Pirates were crippled and never recovered, leaving only the Red-Haired Pirates.
This development seemed to bring hope. People believed peace was finally within reach. Songs were sung, celebrations held, and many rejoiced in what felt like a new era.
But that peace was short-lived. Or perhaps—there had never been true peace at all.
With Whitebeard gone, the pressure he exerted on others vanished. Pirate crews, long held in check, emerged like mushrooms after a rain. They burned, looted, and pillaged without restraint, plundering wealth wherever they went. Their brutality surpassed even the Whitebeard era.
Countless cities and towns were destroyed—reduced to ashes amid the flames of war.
When Whitebeard was alive, his mere presence had kept many in check. Ironically, those who had once feared and resented him were now the first to suffer after his death.
Fishman Island, being a critical passage into the New World, became an obvious target. Ruthless pirates descended upon it in droves.
The island's military fought desperately. After countless bloody battles, they barely held the line. The pirates were repelled, but not without cost.
Just as they began to breathe easier, an unknown pirate crew arrived. Catching the guards off guard, they launched a sudden assault. Thousands of defenders were wiped out. The royal family was massacred. The princes went missing in battle. The princess was kidnapped.
With that, Ryugu Kingdom was annihilated.
The desolation that remained bore witness to the fierce battle that had taken place.
"Here we are," Rog said.
They arrived at the camp. It was crude, cobbled together with scraps. A few people inside looked up at Kaguya as she entered, momentarily stunned by her beauty.
Rog walked over with a steaming bowl of porridge, smiling. "You must be hungry after the long walk. Here, have some food."
Kaguya glanced at the fragrant porridge in his hands, lips curling upward. She raised her head and said with amusement, "This porridge… it's not ordinary, is it?"
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