The sedative cloud wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, and I felt my knees buckle slightly. My vision swam, the edges of the world turning soft and fuzzy like someone had smeared Vaseline across my eyes.
'Of course, she had a backup plan. Of course, the princess came prepared with a whole chemical warfare arsenal.'
My Hamon energy surged through my bloodstream immediately, the golden ripples acting like supernatural scrubbers attacking the sedative.
I could feel it working—the warm, crackling sensation spreading through my veins as the Ripple Energy expelled the chemicals trying to shut down my nervous system.
But the dosage was insane. Whoever created this sedative had clearly intended it for something much larger than a human.
'Probably meant for sea kings or something equally ridiculous. This is what I get for underestimating a hot princess who survived in a criminal organization.'
WHOOSH!
"Karoo!" Vivi shouted, genuine hurriedness in her voice. "Possess the chain again! Now!"
Through my blurred vision, I saw Vivi sprint toward her champion. Her movements were small due to the chain still bending her, but she was still calm, and I had to give her credit.
'That's the thing about people who've been playing spy games in organizations like Baroque Works. They don't give up easily. They can't afford to.'
"QUACK! QUACK!"
SHIMMER! PHASE!
The chain rattled and untangled itself from around the woman, the metal links coiling like a serpent preparing to strike.
I could see the faint shimmer in the air around it—that telltale distortion that marked Karoo's presence.
'Intangibility and possession. What a pain in the ass combination.'
My legs felt like they were made of lead as I moved out of the gas cloud, each movement requiring conscious effort as I fought against the sedative, trying to shut down my motor control.
But I'd been in worse situations.
'Small mercies.'
I forced my body to move, stumbling out of the lingering sedative cloud with all the grace of a drunk trying to pass a sobriety test.
The moment I cleared the worst of it, I channeled every ounce of Hamon I could muster through my body. Golden energy crackled across my skin, racing down my arms and into both swords—the Sword of Gryffindor in my right hand and the Barbossa Sword in my left.
CRACKLE! HISS!
The energy was so intense that small arcs of golden lightning jumped between the blades, illuminating the darkened street with an otherworldly glow. The sedative in my system burned away faster under the increased energy flow, though my head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
'Come on, spy princess. I know you're planning something.'
WHOOSH! WHIP! CRACK!
The chain whipped forward with incredible speed, the metal links whistling through the air like a bullwhip.
CRACK!
But I was already moving, my body operating on combat instincts honed through two years of surviving in this insane world. I brought the Barbossa sword up in a sharp arc, Hamon energy blazing along its edge like golden fire.
CLANG!
The sword met the chain with a shower of sparks, and I felt the impact reverberate up my arm. But more importantly, with my Mantra, I felt something else—a presence materializing right where I'd predicted.
While my Mantra couldn't directly detect Karoo when the duck was intangible, it could read its intentions when it was going to attack me.
But that was enough.
'Tactical awareness. It's not just about what you can see—it's about understanding patterns, reading people, predicting behaviors amidst the battle.'
Karoo phased out of the chain at the perfect moment, materializing with its leg already cocked back for a devastating kick. The duck's eyes held a glint of adorable fierceness, something that I don't appreciate at all.
'But, nice try. However, I've been dealing with deceptive tactics since middle school.'
The problem with being clever is that you start to expect others to be stupid. Vivi had probably assumed I'd be too focused on the chain at the moment to notice the real ambush. A reasonable assumption, especially given how dizzy the sedative had made me look.
But I'd been playing the part up a bit, exaggerating my impairment. Because if there's one thing I learned from observing human behavior, it's that people always tend to get overconfident when they think they have the advantage.
SHIMMER!
'The duck properly could see it, but I don't think she could too.'
My Stand materialized at the exact microsecond Karoo was out of the chain, its translucent form barely visible in the darkness.
'If the duck can transform and act like a ghost, see spectral-like things, then that can only mean that they are the same kind of existence.'
WHAM! BANG!
The Stand's wooden frame crashed into the side of Karoo's head like a sledgehammer hitting a watermelon, catching the duck in that split-second moment of it materializing in the air.
'If material things can't touch you when you are in your ghost state, what about a fellow ghost-like thing?'
"QUAAAAAACK?!"
Karoo's cry of pain was almost musical in its pitch, the sound echoing off the buildings as the duck's ambush was completely countered. The impact disrupted the Devil Fruit power, forcing Karoo to turn tangible as it reeled from the surprise attack.
CRACKLE! FLASH! BZZT!
I didn't give Karoo a chance to recover. My body surged forward despite the lingering dizziness, Hamon energy burning through the last remnants of sedative in my bloodstream. The golden ripples raced through my muscles, supercharging them beyond normal human capacity.
SLASH!
The Sword of Gryffindor came up in a precise, elegant arc—the kind of movement that resulted from years of practice with the blade.
The gleaming silver blade carved through the air with a sound like tearing silk, and then through flesh and feathers.
'Sorry about that, but you were quite rather pain to deal with.'
Blood sprayed in an arc as the sword cut across Karoo's wing and chest, the crimson droplets catching the moonlight like rubies.
"QUAAAACK!!!"
"Eh? KARRO!!!"
The duck's scream of pain was genuine, raw, filled with an anguish that actually made me feel slightly guilty about cutting what was essentially someone's pet.
'Slightly. Very slightly. It did try to kill me with machine guns, after all.'
But then I felt it—
VOOOM!!
—Something strange pulsing through the Gryffindor sword.
VOOOM!! VOOOM!!
The blade itself seemed to... resonate, for lack of a better word. It was like a tuning fork being struck, a vibration that traveled up the blade and into my hand.
The sensation was rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat, and completely different from anything I'd experienced with the sword before.
'What the hell?'
VOOOM! VOOOM!! VOOOM!!!
The pulsing intensified for a moment, making the blade almost hum in my grip, then faded to a subtle background sensation. But it was definitely there, definitely real, and definitely new.
'It started when I cut Karoo?'
I filed that information away for later analysis. Whatever was happening with the sword, it could wait. Right now, I have a wounded but still dangerous opponent in front of me.
Karoo proved my assessment correct by immediately bringing up its other wing—the one with the machine gun still attached.
The duck's eyes held a determination, blood dripping from its wounds, but its fighting spirit clearly unbroken.
CLICK!!
'Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Even injured, it's still trying to shoot me?'
At this range, even with Hamon-enhanced durability, I'd probably take some serious hits.
So I didn't give Karoo the chance to pull the trigger.
WHOOSH!
I brought the Barbossa sword around, channeling Hamon through the mystical weapon as I activated Water Affinity and gripped "The Blue"—that strange, omnipresent connection to all water that Fishman Karate described.
The sensation was immediate and disorienting, like being underwater while still breathing air.
Moisture from every direction, ambient humidity, the water vapor in the atmosphere—all of it connected.
'Time to end this.'
'Hamon—Whale Hammer Wave!'
CRACKLE! WHOOOOSH!
The technique I'd been developing, combining Fishman Karate principles with Hamon's repelling ability. The name was stupid, but the effect was anything but.
VRRROOOOOOO!!!!
Golden energy exploded from the Barbossa Sword, racing through the ambient humidity in the air like lightning through a conductor.
The moisture molecules became vehicles for the Ripple, carrying a repelling force that manifested as a visible wave of distorted air and water droplets.
WHOOOOSH! CRASH!
The wave hit Karoo like a freight train, the combined force of Hamon energy and compressed air, and water lifting the duck completely off its feet.
The wave hit Karoo like an invisible freight train.
The duck's machine gun fire cut off mid-burst as the bullets and its entire body were blasted backward with tremendous force. Its wings flailed uselessly, its eyes went wide with shock and pain, and then—
CRASH! CRUNCH! BOOM!
—It went through a building wall like a feathered cannonball.
Stone and wood exploded inward, debris showering across the street as Karoo disappeared into the structure with a final, diminishing "Quaaaaaack..." that faded into silence, leaving a duck-shaped hole in the facade.
'And that's what we call 'overwhelming force.' Sometimes the best tactic is just hitting your opponent really, really hard.'
I turned my attention to Vivi, who stood frozen in the middle of the street, her face a mask of shock.
Her eyes were fixed on the hole in the building wall, her mouth slightly open as if her brain couldn't quite process what she'd just witnessed.
'Can't really blame her. Watching your Devil Fruit partner get launched through solid architecture probably wasn't in the plan.'
"I—" she started to say something, but the words died in her throat.
Trauma or not, this fight needed to end before she recovered enough to try something else clever.
WHOOSH!
I appeared beside her in a blur of movement, my body finally responding properly as the last of the sedative burned away under Hamon's relentless purge.
The Gryffindor sword came up in a precise arc, the blade gleaming in the moonlight as it swung toward her neck.
"Wait—"
I saw Vivi's eyes widen in genuine fear as the blade descended toward her.
But I wasn't trying to kill her.
SLASH!
The blade passed through her—but there was no blood, no wound, no physical damage whatsoever.
Instead, golden Hamon energy flowed from the sword into her body, Ripple power flooding through her nervous system like electricity through copper wiring.
CRACKLE!
Her entire body went rigid, back arching as the Ripple energy disrupted the electrical signals in her nerves.
'Non-lethal takedown. Because, as annoying as this whole situation is, killing a princess would create more complications I really don't need.'
"Ngh—!" Vivi's attempted cry was cut short as her eyes rolled back in her head, consciousness fleeing under the onslaught of Hamon-induced neural disruption.
Her body went limp, and I caught her before she could hit the ground, lowering her unconscious form more gently than she probably deserved.
'And that's what we call "measured response." You tried to kill me with chemical warfare and a possessed Devil Fruit duck. I gave you a nap. I'm practically a saint, Komachi would be very proud.'
The sounds of combat from other parts of the town began to die down, the crashes and shouts fading into silence. I could sense the others through my Mantra—Luffy's boundless energy, Zoro's focused intensity, Sanji's controlled aggression, and Usopp's cowardly struggle. They were all finishing up their own fights.
'Good. Let's see how everyone else handled our "welcoming committee."'
———
Luffy's Third Person POV
———
Meanwhile, in a different part of Whiskey Peak, Luffy was discovering that his opponent's sound-based attacks were becoming increasingly annoying.
BWWWAAAAMMM! SHRIIIEEK!
Another sonic shockwave from the Orxonesta slammed into Luffy's rubber body, the concentrated sound cutting into his skin despite his Devil Fruit immunity to most physical attacks.
Blood splattered from new cuts joining the dozen others already covering his torso and arms.
"GAAAH!" Luffy skidded backward, his sandals leaving grooves in the dirt street. His ears were ringing like someone had stuck his head inside a church bell during Sunday service.
Mr. 8—or Igarappoi, though Luffy didn't remember that name—stood twenty feet away with his ridiculous curled hair somehow still perfectly styled despite the violence of the fight.
The mayor/bounty hunter had the Orxonesta pressed to his lips, his fingers dancing over the instrument's valves, keys, and strings like a demented orchestra conductor.
"You're quite resilient, Straw Hat Luffy!" Mr. 8 called out, his voice carrying that particular smugness that comes from thinking you've got your opponent figured out.
"But even rubber has its limits! My Orxonesta can produce sound at frequencies that can bypass Devil Fruit immunities!"
'Ugh, this is so annoying!' Luffy thought, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears. 'I can't even get close without him making those stupid sounds!'
WHEEEE-OOOOM!
Another sonic blast, this one at a different frequency that made Luffy's teeth ache and his vision blur. He tried to charge forward, but the sound hit him like a physical wall, forcing him back.
"WAAAAHH!!! This Is So Annoying!!" Luffy shouted, his usual grin replaced by a grimace of frustration. Fighting enemies he couldn't punch was the worst kind of battle.
Mr. 8's expression showed growing confidence. His strategy was working. Keep the rubber man at a distance, wear him down with sonic attacks he couldn't defend against, and eventually the infamous pirate captain would fall.
'If I can just maintain this distance and frequency variation, his rubber body won't matter!'
SHREEEEEEE!
The mayor adjusted his grip on the Orxonesta and blew into it with precise control, his fingers manipulating the valves to produce an ultrasonic frequency.
This attack was specifically designed to rupture eardrums and shatter the delicate bones of the inner ear—a killing blow disguised as music.
The ultrasonic wave screamed through the air, invisible but devastating.
At this frequency, even Luffy's rubber body wouldn't provide much protection. The sound would vibrate through his skull directly into his brain, causing hemorrhaging and—
Luffy stuck his fingers in his ears.
Or rather, Luffy stuck his stretched fingers through his stretched ear canals, plugging them from the inside with his own rubber-enhanced digits.
"Shishishi! Can't hear you anymore!" Luffy's trademark grin was back in full force, wider than ever.
Mr. 8's jaw dropped. His confident expression cracked like glass hit by a hammer. "What—that's impossible! How can you—!"
'He blocked an ultrasonic attack by... by plugging his own ears from the inside?! That's not how Devil Fruits work! That's not how any of this works!'
But it was working. Luffy's rubber physiology had once again demonstrated why the Gomu Gomu no Mi was more versatile than most people realized.
Sound needed a clear medium to travel through, and if you could block that medium from reaching your eardrums, even ultrasonic frequencies became useless.
And Luffy...didn't know any of that…he just did it on instinct….
"Your music is too loud!" Luffy called out cheerfully, somehow able to hear his own voice despite the finger-plugged ears. "I like music, but not when it's trying to kill me!"
'This is bad,' Mr. 8 thought, his mind racing for a new strategy. 'My secret technique is completely countered. My only choice now is to hit him with a concentrated blast at point-blank range or wear him down until...'
Luffy, meanwhile, had reached the end of his patience with this whole sound-weapon situation. He'd been cut, battered, and had his ears assaulted by frequencies that would make dogs howl. Enough was enough.
He charged forward, his legs pumping with increased speed. His fingers remained stuck in his ears, giving him a bizarrely comical appearance as he ran—like a child trying to ignore their parents' nagging.
Mr. 8 panicked and blew into the Orxonesta with all his might, producing a sonic blast at almost point-blank range.
BRRRRROOMMM!!!!!!!
The concentrated sound wave hit Luffy's chest directly, with a visible distortion in the air as the attack landed with physical force.
Luffy tumbled backward, rolling head over heels three times before popping back to his feet. His shirt was torn further, new cuts adding to his collection.
But he was still grinning, still moving, still utterly unfazed in the way that made him so terrifying to his enemies.
"That tickles!" Luffy's grin took on an almost feral quality, the kind of expression that meant someone was about to have a very bad time.
Mr. 8's confidence didn't just crack—it shattered completely. His hands shook slightly as he held the Orxonesta, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool night air.
"How are you still—"
He never got to finish the question.
"Gomu Gomu no—" Luffy twisted his body, building rotational momentum as his leg stretched back impossibly far. "WHIP!"
WHOOOOSH! CRACK!
Luffy's extended leg came around like a bullwhip made of flesh and rubber, the impact generating a sonic boom of its own as it caught Mr. 8 square in the chest.
"GAAAAHHHH!!!!"
CLATTER! SPIN!
The mayor's ridiculous curled hair streamed behind him like a cape as he was launched backward, his body ragdolling through the air.
Mr. 8 crashed into the town square fountain with devastating force.
SPLASH! CRASH!
Water exploded upward in a geyser, the stone fountain cracking under the impact.
The Orxonesta flew from his hands, tumbling through the air to land nearby with a discordant CLANG!
The mayor lay in the ruins of the fountain next to a human-sized duck, water pouring over him, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his ridiculous hair finally, finally drooping from its styled perfection.
Luffy unstretched his fingers from his ears with a comical POP! POP! sound and walked over to where the Orxonesta had fallen. He picked up the strange instrument, turning it over in his hands with fascination.
"Hey, this thing is pretty cool even if it was annoying!" he said to no one in particular. "I wonder how it works?"
BWWWAAAAMMM!
He blew into it experimentally. A small, discordant note emerged, nowhere near the devastating sonic attacks Mr. 8 had produced, but still enough to make Luffy wince.
"Hmm, but how do you use this thing!... Oh, maybe Hachiman can figure it out!" He tucked the instrument under his arm.
"Shishishi! I wonder if he is going to be annoyed!"
———
Zoro's Third Person POV
———
In another section of Whiskey Peak, Zoro was engaged in what could only be described as a mutual beatdown with Miss Monday.
CRASH! CLANG! BOOM!
The female agent swung her massive metal pillar in a devastating overhead strike that would have pulverized a normal opponent.
Zoro blocked with all three swords crossed above his head, the impact sending shockwaves through his arms and into his shoulders.
'Heavy!' Even Zoro had to acknowledge the woman's monstrous strength. 'She's not human-level strong. She's sea king-level strong.'
He shoved back, redirecting the pillar's force to the side, and immediately launched a three-sword counterattack. His blades traced glowing arcs through the air as they converged on Miss Monday from multiple angles.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
But the woman was faster than her bulk suggested. She spun her pillar with surprising grace, intercepting each sword strike with precise timing. Sparks flew from the impacts, illuminating both fighters' determined expressions.
"You're strong, even more than you looks," Zoro admitted, a small grin crossing his face.
Miss Monday's face showed grim satisfaction at the acknowledgment from one of the East Blue's most notorious swordsmen.
"You're not bad yourself. But that is not enough to defeat a veteran bounty hunter!"
She proved her point by following up with a horizontal sweep of her pillar that would have taken Zoro's head off if he hadn't ducked. The metal column whistled over his head, pulverizing the wall behind him.
CRASH!
'She's committed to every strike. Puts her whole body behind each attack,' Zoro analyzed even as he moved. 'But that means...'
"Strength alone isn't enough against a swordsman," Zoro said, his stance shifting. His three swords adjusted to new angles, his body settling into a more focused posture that Miss Monday recognized immediately.
'He's getting serious,' she thought, tensing despite herself. 'This is where the real fight begins.'
Miss Monday swung her pillar in another devastating overhead strike, putting all her considerable strength into an attack designed to simply overwhelm any defense through pure force. The air itself seemed to scream as the massive metal column descended.
But Zoro didn't block. He didn't even try.
Instead, he moved like water, his body flowing around the attack with the kind of economy of motion that comes from thousands of hours of training. The pillar slammed into the ground where he'd been standing with a BOOM that cracked the street, but Zoro was already inside her guard.
'Too close! Can't bring the pillar around in time!'
Zoro's swords traced precise arcs that Miss Monday's eyes couldn't even follow—the kind of cuts that resulted from perfect technical execution rather than raw power.
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
Three simultaneous strikes across her arms and torso, each one shallow but perfectly placed to disrupt muscle groups and nerve clusters.
"AGH!" Miss Monday stumbled backward, her fingers going nerveless as the cuts did their work. The massive pillar dropped from her suddenly unresponsive hands, hitting the ground with a THUD that shook the street.
'Can't... can't feel my hands!'
She tried to recover, tried to grab her weapon or throw a punch or do anything, but her body wasn't responding properly. Blood ran from the three cuts—not deep enough to be fatal or even particularly dangerous, but precisely placed to be completely debilitating.
"Tora Gari!" (Tiger Hunt)
Zoro's voice was calm, almost conversational, as he executed one of his signature techniques.
His swords crossed in an X-formation as he slashed, the double strike catching Miss Monday mid-guard when she tried to raise her arms defensively.
SLASH!
The force of the attack lifted Miss Monday completely off her feet, sending her spinning through the air like a top. She crashed near the town square with a heavy THUD, her pillar clattering down beside her a moment later with a resonant BOOM.
She was unconscious before she finished rolling to a stop, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow but steady.
Zoro stood over his defeated opponent for a moment, then sheathed his swords with three sharp CLICK sounds.
"Should've known better than to rely just on strength," he muttered, already turning toward the square where he could sense the others converging.
"In this world, there are plenty of strong people. Depending on some whatever-work techniques won't get you far."
'Thinking about it now, sparing with Hachiman was way more fun than this.'
———
Sanji's Third Person POV
———
Sanji's fight with Mr. 9 had started as a frustrating chase and devolved into an exercise in patience.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
The acrobatic agent flipped and twisted through the air with the kind of flexibility that shouldn't be possible for a human spine. His metal baseball bats swung in devastating arcs, the heavy weapons moving with deceptive speed despite their weight.
Sanji dodged backward, his cigarette never leaving his lips despite the violence of the movements. His eyes tracked Mr. 9's impossible contortions with the analytical gaze of someone used to breaking down opponents' fighting styles.
'Contortionist. Uses flexibility to avoid attacks and attacks from weird angles,' Sanji thought, tilting his head to avoid a bat that would have broken his jaw. 'Those bats are heavy, but he swings them like they're weightless.'
"You can't hit what you can't catch!" Mr. 9 taunted, his body bending at the waist in a way that would have hospitalized a normal person. He attacked from the bent position, both bats swinging upward in pincer formation.
Sanji stepped back out of range, cigarette smoke trailing behind him. 'He's fast, but not as fast as he thinks he is. He's relying on the flexibility to make up for the fact that his actual speed is only above-average. Now that I can predict his movements clearly, all I can see is a dancing clown.'
"You're pretty flexible," Sanji commented, his tone conversational. "But in a fight, circus tricks aren't enough."
Mr. 9's face twisted in anger. "Circus tricks?! I'll show you—!"
He flipped forward, both bats raised above his head for a crushing double overhead strike. The attack came down with tremendous force, enough to crater the ground where Sanji was standing.
Except Sanji wasn't standing there anymore.
He had simply... disappeared.
"What?!" Mr. 9's bats slammed into empty ground, the impact jarring his arms.
A kick from behind caught Mr. 9 square in the ribs with a precise CRACK!
Before the acrobat could even process that attack, another kick came from the side, hitting his kidney with surgical precision.
And before he could turn to face that threat, a third kick from above struck his shoulder, driving him down.
'Too fast! Can't track him!'
Sanji's leg became a blur of motion, his attacks coming from impossible angles with speed that Mr. 9's flexibility couldn't counter.
Each kick was precisely targeted, hitting specific body parts with the kind of accuracy that came from both extensive anatomical knowledge and years of combat experience.
"Collier!" CRACK! A kick to the neck that snapped Mr. 9's head sideways.
"Épaule!" THUD! A devastating blow to the shoulder that dislocated the joint.
"Côtelette!" CRACK! Ribs creaking under the impact as air exploded from Mr. 9's lungs.
"Selle!" SLAM! A kick to the back that arched the acrobat's spine painfully.
"Poitrine!" BOOM! A final chest strike that sent Mr. 9 stumbling backward, his bats falling from nerveless fingers.
The acrobat stood on shaking legs, his flexibility meaning nothing when his entire body was a landscape of pain and damaged nerves. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing ragged.
'Can't... can't move... too much damage...'
"Anti-Manner Kick Course!" Sanji announced, his leg already in motion for the finishing combination.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!!!
Five devastating kicks in rapid succession, each one hitting with pinpoint accuracy and overwhelming force. The combination sent Mr. 9 spinning through the air like a helicopter with broken blades, his body tumbling end over end.
He crashed into the town square, landing directly next to Miss Monday with a heavy THUD.
His metal bats clattered down beside him a moment later, rolling to a stop near the unconscious woman's stone pillar.
Sanji landed gracefully, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he surveyed his defeated opponent.
"That's what you get for making me waste time on circus tricks," he muttered, exhaling smoke.
"I could have been flirting with Miss Wednesday instead."
———
Hachiman's First Person POV
———
I made my way toward the town square, carrying the unconscious Vivi over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
It wasn't the most dignified transport method, but given that she'd tried to kill me with chemical warfare and a possessed Devil Fruit duck, I wasn't particularly concerned with her comfort.
VOOOM! VOOOM!! VOOOM!!!
The Gryffindor sword hung at my side, and I couldn't stop noticing the strange pulsing sensation emanating from the blade. It was subtle now, a faint rhythmic vibration that I could feel through the scabbard, but it was definitely there.
'This never happened before,' I thought, frowning as I walked. 'The sword has always been responsive, but this pulsing is new.'
The sensation intensified momentarily, making the sword almost hum against my hip, then faded back to that subtle background rhythm.
Like a heartbeat. Or a tuning fork slowly losing its resonance.
'It started…After I cut Karoo…is it because the duck is a Devil Fruit user?'
That was the key variable. I'd used the Gryffindor sword in hundreds of fights since obtaining it, had cut through countless enemies, both human and animal, and even Devil Fruit users before. But this was the first time it acted like this.
'Does it react to certain Devil Fruit powers? To what can it be categorized as supernatural entities? The sword itself is supernatural—pulled from a different universe through my Stand's power. Maybe it recognizes some specific supernatural forces?'
I filed the information away for later experimentation. Right now, I have more immediate concerns—like the sound of something crashing through a building ahead of me.
A moment later, the question was answered when I heard Luffy's laughter echoing from another street, followed by the distinctive SPLASH and CRASH of something—or someone—hitting the town square fountain with extreme force.
Mr. 8 emerged from his impromptu bath a second later, tumbling over the fountain's edge to land face-first in the square next to the injured form of the oversized duck. His ridiculous hair was finally drooping, waterlogged, and deflated like a sad balloon.
THUD!
Miss Monday crashed down near Mr. 8, her massive form hitting the ground hard enough to crack the paving stones. Her pillar clattered down beside her with a resonant BOOM.
THUD!
Mr. 9 followed a second later, landing directly next to Miss Monday in a tangle of limbs and metal bats. The acrobat's body was bent at angles that suggested Sanji had introduced him to every French cooking technique in the most violent way possible.
I stood at the edge of the square, taking in the scene of comprehensive defeat.
Four Baroque Works agents lay unconscious or groaning in the center of the square, their weapons scattered around them like the aftermath of a particularly violent yard sale.
'Well, that's everyone accounted for. Efficient.'
Luffy emerged from a side street, grinning widely and holding the Mr. 8's strange musical instrument like a trophy.
Zoro walked in from another direction, his hands casually resting on his sword hilts.
Sanji appeared from a third street, lighting a fresh cigarette with the air of someone who'd just finished a mildly annoying chore.
And then Usopp came running from yet another direction, his slingshot still drawn.
"I got them all!" Usopp announced breathlessly. "Did you see how I took down those fifty—no, a hundred bounty hunters?! My brilliant tactics and sharpshooting turned the tide of battle!"
'He beat maybe five of them. Maybe. But I'll let him have this one.'
"Great job, sniper," I said blandly, setting Vivi down near her defeated colleagues.
The five of us gathered in the center of the square, standing over the defeated Baroque Works agents like particularly judgmental teachers surveying students who'd failed a test spectacularly.
"That was more annoying than I expected," Zoro commented, rolling his shoulders to work out the tension from blocking Miss Monday's strength-enhanced strikes.
Sanji took a drag from his cigarette, smoke curling upward into the night air. "Annoying is the right word. Not strong, just... irritating."
I nodded, looking down at Vivi's unconscious form and remembering the sedative cloud, the possessed duck, the hidden weapons. "Coordinated tactics and unusual abilities. That duck was particularly troublesome."
'Intangibility and possession in one Devil Fruit. If I wasn't specifically equipped to handle troublesome opponents, that fight could have gone very differently.'
"But that was a good workout!" Luffy's grin was infectious, his enthusiasm undimmed despite the cuts and bruises covering his body. He held up the musical instrument, examining it with the fascination of a child discovering a new toy.
"Hey, Hachiman! What is this thing?"
He demonstrated by blowing into it experimentally, producing a weak but still annoying sound wave that made everyone within ten feet wince and cover their ears.
"GAH! Stop that!" Usopp yelped, his hands clamped over his ears.
"It makes these weird sound attacks!" Luffy continued, completely unrepentant. "And it can do different ones depending on what you press! Look!"
He pressed one of the valves and blew again. A different frequency emerged, this one making our teeth ache.
"Luffy, seriously, stop—" Sanji started.
I walked over and plucked the instrument from Luffy's hands before he could cause any more auditory damage.
Holding the thing up to the moonlight, I examined its construction carefully.
The craftsmanship was impressive—precious metals inlaid into the body, gemstones marking certain valves, and mechanisms that looked far too complex for a simple musical instrument.
'Orxonesta,' I thought, my memory refreshing with information I'd read in various treasure hunters' journals.
'A rare musical instrument that can produce sound at variable frequencies. In the right hands—a skilled musician—it is basically a one-man orchestra, and the hands of some musicians can be weaponized to devastating effect. Sound waves at specific frequencies for offense, other frequencies for defense, and everything in between.'
"It's called an Orxonesta," I explained, turning the instrument over to examine the maker's mark on its base. 'Ratchet Tonus'
"A Magnum opus musical instrument designed for musicians who are beyond the norm in skills. With the right user, it can produce sounds at variable frequencies, enough to power up a musical festival by itself."
"But a very, very few musicians can even use it. And in theory, a master user could shatter buildings, burst eardrums, or even stop someone's heart with the right frequency."
"Whoa!" Luffy's eyes lit up with excitement. "That's so cool! We should keep it!"
"Obviously, we're keeping it," I said, already moving to store the Orxonesta in my Dimensional Bag. "This thing is worth a fortune, and it's—"
"We need to find a musician!" Luffy interrupted, bouncing on his feet with sudden enthusiasm. "A musician who can use that cool sound weapon! Every pirate crew needs a musician!"
The rest of us turned to stare at Luffy with varying expressions of confusion and disbelief.
"A musician?" Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell do we need a musician?"
"For singing!" Luffy said, as if this explained everything. "Pirates should sing! It's important!"
"Important for what, exactly?" Sanji asked, though his tone suggested he was already resigned to whatever answer Luffy would give.
"Because we are pirates!" Luffy's grin was impossibly wide. "You can't have a proper pirate adventure without someone to make music! For parties and celebrations and when we're sailing and—"
"Before a spy, a capable doctor, a real helmsman, and a good shipwright," I interrupted, my tone completely flat. "You think what we're missing all of this time is background music?"
'Though honestly, in a crew this ridiculous, a musician would fit right in. At least it would keep our captain entertained.'
"Exactly!" Luffy either missed my sarcasm entirely or chose to ignore it. "See, Hachiman gets it!"
"That's not what I—" I sighed, recognizing the futility of arguing with Luffy when he'd decided something was important. "You know what? Fine. We'll keep an eye out for a musician. Until then, I'm keeping this with me before you deafen us all."
I tucked the instrument under my cloak and carefully placed the Orxonesta inside my Dimensional Bag.
'A weaponized musical instrument. Great. Now I have to study acoustics and frequency manipulation on top of everything else. As if learning Hamon, swordsmanship, marksmanship, and Devil Fruit classifications wasn't enough.'
"All the bounty hunters are defeated!" Usopp announced, finally catching up to the conversation. He gestured dramatically at the town around us. "I, Captain Usopp, led the charge and—"
"Yeah, yeah, you're very brave," Zoro cut him off. "What do we do with these four?"
He gestured at the defeated Baroque Works agents with his thumb. Mr. 8 was starting to stir, groaning as consciousness returned. Miss Monday and Mr. 9 were still out cold, their bodies too damaged to wake up anytime soon. And Vivi...
Vivi's eyes fluttered open, her consciousness returning much faster than the others, thanks to the Hamon's relatively gentle neural disruption.
She stared up at the night sky for a moment, confused, then her eyes focused and widened as she remembered where she was and what had happened.
Vivi tried to sit up and immediately regretted it, her body protesting the lingering effects of the Hamon shock. She settled for propping herself up on her elbows, looking around at her defeated colleagues with growing dismay.
"I am…alive?" Her voice was small, disbelieving.
Mr. 8 had managed to pull himself into a sitting position, his waterlogged hair hanging limp around his face.
He looked at Vivi, then at Karoo, Miss Monday, and Mr. 9, then at the five of us standing over them like particularly intimidating judges.
"We were defeated…" Miss Monday's voice was weak as she regained consciousness, her hand pressing against her wounded torso. "Against only four of them?"
'Five actually, but Usopp's contribution wasn't flashy enough that I understand the confusion.'
"Their bounties were inaccurate..." Mr. 8's voice held resignation and something that might have been respect. "We underestimated them. Severely."
"You tried to kill us in our sleep," Zoro's voice was cold, his hand resting on his sword hilts in a clear threat. "What did you expect would happen?"
Vivi's face cycled through several emotions—shame, anger, fear, determination.
She opened her mouth to respond, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoing across the square.
CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.
The sound of expensive shoes on cobblestones. Measured. Mocking. The kind of footsteps that announced their owner's complete confidence in their superiority.
"Well, well, well..."
Two figures emerged from the shadows at the far end of the square, backlit by moonlight in a way that would have been dramatic if it wasn't so obviously calculated.
A man in a dark coat and sunglasses, despite the nighttime, and a woman with a parasol, twirling lazily over her shoulder.
My Mantra pinged immediately, and the sensation was completely different from the defeated agents around us. These two were dangerous—their presence carried weight, their movements held confidence backed by genuine power rather than bluster.
'Alright, these are the real deal.'
The man adjusted his sunglasses with one hand, the gesture somehow conveying immense smugness despite his eyes being invisible.
"Look at this, Miss Valentine. The Whiskey Peak team got demolished."
The woman—Miss Valentine—giggled in a way that set my teeth on edge.
It was the kind of laugh that reminded me so much of a certain girl I knew in middle school, high-pitched, completely devoid of genuine humor, and just for the looks.
"How pathetic! And these are supposed to be our colleagues?"
She twirled her parasol mockingly, the frilly accessory looking absurd in this time and weather.
"We should have known better than to trust frontier agents with such an important place."
'Frontier agents. So, there's a hierarchy in Baroque Works. These two consider themselves above the ones we just fought.'
The four defeated agents' reactions confirmed my assessment. Mr. 8's eyes widened in recognition, hope, and—surprisingly—caution.
"Mr. 5! Miss Valentine! Thank goodness you're here! These pirates—"
"Save it," Mr. 5 cut him off with a dismissive wave. "We're not here to bail you out of your failures."
Mr. 5 adjusted his sunglasses with deliberate slowness, his expression unreadable behind the tinted lenses.
"We're here on orders from the Boss."
He looked directly at Vivi, who'd gone pale at his words.
"Royal Guard Chief of Arabasta, Igaram,"
"Crown Princess, Nefertari Vivi."
The names hung in the air like a bomb waiting to detonate.
"By the orders of the Boss, we will eliminate you two."
…
A/N: I see that people were a bit puzzled as to why I had to go this far with Karoo.
Well, it had to do with a plot down the line, and for it, my first thought was to give a DF to Vivi, but there were so many red lights that made me think it was better not to, so I went with the safest choice, and I was actually happy with the idea.
Because honestly, I really like the duck...
It looks adorable, trying so hard despite being clumsy... And, as the champion and guardian of the crown princess, moreover, for the sake of the future events that are going to happen later, I thought I should give it more power while also trying to balance the story.
So sorry for being selfish here, I hope you understand. And believe me, it is important to the story later on.
Anyway, Thank you all for reading! Hope you enjoyed this one!
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