Hearing the name Aokiji, Gloriosa's head snapped sharply toward Noir's back, just as he was about to leave.
"Boy, you cannot go," her voice was heavy, almost a general's command.
Noir halted mid-step, but did not turn. He already knew where this conversation was going.
His gaze, usually relaxed, grew faintly more serious—though his lips still carried that sly, unbothered smile.
"I know," he said flatly. "And I know exactly what you're planning to do to me, old woman."
He walked back slowly, closing the distance until he could look Gloriosa straight in the eye.
Her eyes narrowed, sharp as a hawk's beak. "I don't know what Aokiji's purpose is… but if he brings danger to the Kuja Pirates, then… we won't hesitate to use you as a bargaining chip."
Noir exhaled softly, then chuckled. "Kufufu… wrinkled skin, but still merciless. Not a drop of pity left. Truly, a heart of ice."
"Silence, boy," Gloriosa snapped, her eyes unblinking.
The Kuja warriors fell into step behind her as she headed toward where Aokiji waited. Noir, meanwhile, slipped into the shadows beneath the trees. The stillness of Amazon Lily's jungle swallowed his footsteps whole.
...
On the shore, an unnatural chill crept through the air. Frost gathered at the tips of leaves; tropical dew froze midair in a place that should have been sweltering. A bird flying too close dropped from the sky, its wings sealed in crystalline ice.
There stood Aokiji—his Marine coat hanging loosely, a sleep mask scarfed lazily around his neck, an expression half-asleep yet brimming with the weight only an Admiral could carry. Around him, the ground had been claimed by a sheet of frost; the sea behind was frozen for miles.
Hancock and Gloriosa approached to confront him.
"What business does an Admiral have here?" Hancock's voice was cold, her tone a whip-crack. "Do you not know the laws of Amazon Lily?"
Aokiji scratched his head lazily, his eyes half-lidded. "Ah~ sorry about that… but orders are orders. I'm just here… doing my job."
Hancock's eyes narrowed. "Your job? What could the Marines possibly want from the Kuja Pirates?"
Aokiji sighed, a thin mist curling from his lips despite the tropical sun. "I don't know all the details. But… the Gorosei are crafting a new system. They want certain pirates chosen to serve as soldiers… operating under the World Government's banner."
The words hit Gloriosa and Hancock like stones dropped into still water—shock and disgust rippled through them both.
"That's all," Aokiji continued, still flat in tone. "If you agree… attend the meeting. If not… the choice is yours. Good luck."
With unhurried steps that felt at odds with his status, Aokiji turned away. Each footprint he left glazed the sand in ice, his figure slowly fading into the cold mist he carried with him.
Hancock stood frozen in thought, but Gloriosa was already moving, turning back into the jungle. She found Noir among the trees, and spoke quickly.
"Boy, it seems he didn't come for you. Leave… before I change my mind. We don't want Amazon Lily linked to you."
Noir grinned and dipped his head in a mock bow. "Kufufu… in that case, I'll take my leave. Until we meet again—or better yet, never."
Without another word, he vanished into the opposite direction from Aokiji's path.
...
Noir chose the ocean—vast, silent, and impartial. He knew that the moment he set foot on any ship, the Navy's spies would sense him. The sea was his only cover.
But as he dove deeper, something cold coiled around his skin.
A chill—not of nature, but of will.
Then came the voice—flat, lazy, yet lethal.
"Ice Age."
The water around him shuddered as if startled, then froze solid in an instant. Waves that once surged now hung motionless, their surfaces gleaming like a thousand crystalline blades under the sun.
Noir narrowed his eyes. Instinct propelled him upward, breaking through the frozen surface in a burst, riding the last currents to leap high into the air. He landed lightly atop the cracking ice, his boots leaving shallow prints in the newborn snow.
Before him stood the tall figure in the long coat, scarf of sleep-mask still hanging loosely, his breath a faint mist.
Kuzan—the Marine Admiral known to the world as Aokiji.
Noir's smile was thin, his eyes sharp.
"Kufufu… I thought it'd be impossible to find me this fast… unless you knew I was here from the start."
Aokiji scratched his head, his tone unhurried but deliberate.
"Arara~ sorry… but your bounty poster is just too tempting. I couldn't resist… stepped off my ship, came straight here."
Noir raised both hands—relaxed, but calculated.
"In that case… can't you, just this once, let me walk away? See? No intent to fight."
Aokiji answered not with words, but action. A forest of ice spikes erupted around Noir, sharp as spears, lunging toward him.
Noir tilted his head by mere fractions, letting a spear's edge skim the air beside his ear. His movements were precise, without hesitation.
Aokiji's brow rose.
"You said unarmed… but those reflexes? Your Kenbunshoku Haki isn't ordinary."
"Kufufu… So that's an Admiral's assessment?" Noir dipped his head slightly. "Then I'll skip the pleasantries."
Aokiji reached to his hip, drawing a plain black pistol—not to fire, but to toss it toward Noir.
"Noir," he said, calm as ever. "Six bullets in there. Try them. I want to see… if you can hurt me."
Noir caught it in one hand, spinning it around his finger before stopping with the muzzle leveled straight ahead.
"Kufufu… So this is how you mock me? In that case…" his eyes narrowed, "I won't hesitate."
He pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The first bullet tore through the frigid air, whistling toward Aokiji's head—only to pass clean through, his body dissolving into cold mist.
Aokiji's face remained unchanged, his breath slow.
"One bullet… just a greeting, I suppose?"
From beneath his feet, ice spires began to bloom upward—towering spears of glass-blue, racing toward Noir.
Noir only shrugged and leapt, spinning midair like a shadow dancer on a stage of snow.
"Kufufu… as I thought, Logias are infuriating."
His smile deepened, his eyes glinting.
"But that only applies… to those who don't know how to fight a Logia."
Aokiji's brow lifted, his gaze now edged with caution.
"Seawater? We're standing on it… but you can't possibly use it while I control the field."
Noir landed in a crouch, dark energy seeping from his pores—like a living night fog.
"That's true… but Aokiji," his voice dropped to a razor whisper, "do you think I'm that weak?"
He launched forward—just one step, yet the ice beneath shattered under the force. The pistol was aimed squarely at Aokiji's chest now, but there was weight behind it, a gravity that pulled the air taut.
Aokiji shed his laziness in an instant, conjuring a thick wall of ice, its mirrored blue surface catching the sun like a colossal frozen shield.
Noir's laugh was low and sharp.
"Kufufu… Let's hope this gun doesn't break too soon."
His hands blackened—Busoshoku Haki coating not only his fingers, but the pistol's frame, barrel, and the bullet within. Then, faint red lightning danced across him—wild, irregular, yet carrying an undeniable pressure.
Haoshoku Haki.
Not mere aura, but will—the kind that bends the world.
With the gentlest pull of the trigger, the second bullet screamed forward, tearing the air apart, leaving a faint smoke trail in its wake.
Impact. Aokiji's shield—capable of withstanding warship cannon fire—splintered, then shattered. He immediately clad himself in his own Busoshoku Haki, layering ice as a second barrier.
It didn't matter. The bullet still tore through, gouging a crater in the ice behind him, sending shards flying like shattered diamonds.
Noir rested the pistol on his shoulder, a small smile on his lips. He knew Aokiji had evaded at the last moment.
From the storm of ice fragments, the Admiral stepped out—unscathed, each footfall frosting the air.
Noir tilted his head.
"Kufufu… Dodged at the last second. That's what I'd expect from an Admiral."
Aokiji's gaze sharpened, if only slightly.
"Arara… didn't expect to meet a Haoshoku user… outside the New World."
All around them, the ice cracked and spread, forming an endless white arena—two figures at its heart, the air heavy with tension.
A storm waited, patient, for the moment someone gave the signal to let it loose.