Just a few seconds earlier…
They'd come to this island for a "deal," slipping into the inn room where the dealers were waiting.
Rather than force their way through the heavily secured front entrance, they entered through a window the dealers had deliberately left unlocked.
The suited men startled everyone inside for a heartbeat—but the dealers recovered quickly and produced what their visitors had come for.
"Here. This is what you want, right? Check it and hurry up."
"…Hm. Yes." The apparent leader's gaze flicked over the item. "Do you know what this is?"
"No. Nobody told us. We couldn't figure it out just by looking, either."
"I see."
His tone stayed mild—casual, even.
"You don't seem to be lying. But… just in case, we'll eliminate you as well."
"…Huh?"
The words came out as naturally as if he were talking about the weather.
For a fraction of a second, the dealers' minds failed to catch up.
That single instant was enough.
Rattatatat!
"Gah—?! What the—?!"
The leader's companions snapped their fingers forward—Finger Pistol, fired like bullets—driving invisible impacts straight through flesh.
The dealers didn't even understand what was happening.
Maybe they'd let their guard down because they saw no weapons. One moment they were standing there; the next, fingers had "pierced" them. Most collapsed instantly, dying with bafflement still on their faces.
These were Cipher Pol agents, here for a covert government transaction.
They'd received intelligence that a black-market dealer—one known for handling illegal goods—had also been moving forbidden research materials: information tied to the Void Century and the Poneglyphs. Cipher Pol approached under the pretense of interest, intending to recover the materials quietly and keep everything out of the public eye.
And, of course, they meant to silence anyone who might have learned even a fragment of those secrets.
From the beginning, no one was meant to live.
The dealers were underworld trash; if they disappeared, few would ask questions. And if someone did, the Government had plenty of ways to ensure the questioner went quiet.
Their only miscalculation was that some of the dealers were tougher than expected.
"You… you fucking bastard!"
"—?!"
Even with vital points struck, one dealer didn't die right away. He yanked a pistol from inside his coat and fired.
A sharp crack. A lead bullet tore through the air.
"Iron Body."
For men who could instantly harden their bodies like iron, bullets were meaningless.
The dealer's eyes widened—then a fist slammed into the back of his neck with a sickening snap.
His body went limp for good.
Elsewhere, another accomplice kicked a table over to break line of sight, then threw the door open and fled into the hall.
"W-what was that?! A gunshot?!"
"C-customers?! What happened?!"
"D-don't tell me… pirates—?!"
"Sigh. What a nuisance."
"My apologies. I should have been more thorough."
"No need." The leader's voice remained calm. "If we're framing this as a pirate attack, more casualties work in our favor. We can't allow witnesses to escape."
He spoke as if he were discussing housekeeping, then issued instructions that would turn any normal person's stomach.
"Kill everyone inside the inn. Judging by the faint presences, there aren't many. We'll say they confronted pirates and died in the clash. During the fighting, a stray cigarette—something like that—sparked a fire, and the inn burned down. That's the story. It removes evidence and makes cleanup easy."
"Understood. We'll finish within five minutes."
There were fewer than ten people in the building.
The agents showed no hesitation, no mercy. They slaughtered everyone—men, women, children—leaving no chance, not even the smallest, for a witness to slip away.
They even considered the possibility of hidden associates nearby, and decided to erase every thread that might tie back to them.
Unrelated guests. The innkeeper and his wife.
Even their little daughter.
But then came their second and third miscalculations.
"Ugh… it hurts… Mommy… Daddy…!"
First—perhaps because they dismissed her as too young to matter—the innkeeper's daughter was still alive.
And second… and third…
"…Wait—what's this?! What the hell is going on…?"
Someone had entered the locked inn—somehow.
And the agent sweeping the building to confirm there were no survivors came face-to-face with the girl…
With me.
---
I'd wondered if pirates had truly gotten in after all… but it didn't look like that.
I lifted the little girl—she was still breathing—and saw a clean, bullet-like hole in her body. It hadn't passed through. And there was no bullet lodged inside.
The wound was fresh. Too fresh.
Yet there was no gunpowder smell. And I hadn't heard gunfire.
It looked less like a shot and more like something had been forced through her body.
So this is…
The first-floor door opened.
A man in a crisp suit stepped out, and his gaze locked onto me—onto the little girl in my arms. His eyes widened a fraction.
"Another one? I didn't realize…" He exhaled, faintly annoyed. "And the child's still alive. Sigh."
And without a shred of hesitation, he drove a rigid index finger toward my throat like a blade.
I moved on instinct, dodging while keeping the girl cradled against me.
The man's expression tightened—surprised I'd evaded—but he flowed immediately into the next motion, reaching for me.
I sprang back, widening the distance.
"Tempest Kick."
A slicing shockwave tore through the air toward us.
I met it with my umbrella, hardened with Armament Haki, and deflected the blade of wind.
"…Who are you?" His voice remained flat. "You're no ordinary civilian."
"What's with asking questions now, after trying to kill me on sight?" I snapped. "With a kid right here, too!"
That Tempest Kick had been meant to kill both of us. No hesitation. No exception.
This man—this thing in a suit—had tried to murder an innocent child who knew nothing and had nothing to do with any of this.
Wait.
That just now… Rokushiki.
Government intelligence? Cipher Pol?
Which unit—CP9?
It didn't matter why they were here.
What mattered was getting her out.
"Because it's necessary," he said, as if that ended the conversation. "I have no obligation to explain. Shave."
His body blurred—vanished—angling for my blind spot.
But I'd already caught him with Observation Haki.
I knew the follow-up: Finger Pistol, aimed straight for my heart.
I twisted away and lunged for the exit.
I drove my leg forward—
Right before impact, I coated my kick in Armament Haki, shattered the door, and burst outside into the street.
There were no other survivors in the inn.
Only this child.
With Observation Haki, I could feel it—every presence inside the building was steeped in killing intent.
Which meant her parents… the innkeeper and his wife… had likely—
Worse, they might have been killed right in front of her.
"Don't let her escape!"
The Cipher Pol agent barked the order, directing his subordinates to pursue.
I could handle a fight. With my ability, I could probably even win against a small group head-on.
But not while holding a child.
They would target her without hesitation—hostage or not. They'd kill her either way.
I have to get her out. Hide her. Anything—there's no time—
And then, luck.
Pure coincidence—almost certainly—but straight ahead, right in my path, was the silhouette of the man I'd seen only minutes ago.
He'd been terrifying before.
Now, he looked like the only solid thing in the world.
---
"…Hm? That girl…?"
Zephyr had finished wiping out the pirates and left the cleanup—and the chance for his recruits to gain experience—to the others.
He was patrolling the town as a precaution when he sensed someone approaching at speed.
It was the girl from the port earlier—the one he'd nearly struck by mistake. Even without looking twice, it was obvious: she was running with desperate urgency.
And she was carrying someone—an even smaller child.
The state of both of them made it clear this wasn't normal.
As I shot past Zephyr, I tightened my coat around the child, shielding her from view, then kept running.
Three figures in suits surged after me, their murderous intent unmistakable.
Zephyr stepped forward without hesitation, blocking their path.
"Stop right there! Who are you? Why are you chasing that girl?"
"Well, well… Former Marine Admiral 'Black Arm' Zephyr." The leader's tone was smooth, respectful on the surface. "It's an honor."
"Answer the question," Zephyr said, voice sharpening. "Are you pirates' accomplices? What business do you have with those children?"
A pressure rolled off him—quiet, controlled, and heavy.
Just moments ago, that girl had fought harder than most Marines, protecting civilians and his recruits. Zephyr didn't know her, but he was grateful.
He had no intention of letting these shadowy men pass.
Even seasoned Cipher Pol agents flinched under the force of Zephyr's presence. But their leader straightened and spoke evenly.
"We apologize, but we cannot answer. This is a government-ordered mission. Further inquiry is unwarranted. We ask you to refrain from obstructing us."
"The Government… So you're Cipher Pol." Zephyr's eyes narrowed. "What motive do you have for targeting that girl? And the child she's carrying—she's just an ordinary little girl. What could she possibly have done?"
"As stated, we cannot answer." The leader's smile didn't reach his eyes. "This falls outside the Marines' jurisdiction. Let's go."
"Hey! We're not done talking—"
"Mr. Zephyr."
The leader's tone turned gently cautionary.
"Even a hero of the Marines must understand. We act under the Government's authority. Our role is to eliminate future threats before they materialize. We cannot allow you to interfere. Please… understand."
"You're telling me to stand here and watch you harm innocent civilians?"
"We won't cause trouble for the Marines." The leader's gaze was cold. "Besides… there is a crime. The crime of potentially harming the Government."
Zephyr's jaw tightened.
And with that, the three agents vanished—moving with astonishing speed.
Zephyr couldn't stop them. He could only watch them disappear.
Once they were gone, he moved to the side of the road and crouched, reaching for the wall as if feeling for something unseen.
His fingers caught an edge.
And he peeled away a large sheet of paper.
What had looked like solid stone was only a paper facade, painted perfectly to match. Hidden behind it was the little girl I'd been carrying.
As Zephyr pulled it free, the false wall pattern vanished, leaving a plain white sheet.
Some kind of ability… That girl's. And this child—she's far too young to be involved in anything criminal. If Cipher Pol is targeting her, it's because she saw something… or got dragged into something.
The girl was unconscious, but still breathing.
Zephyr lifted her into his arms and moved—fast—before Cipher Pol could circle back.
He hid her in a way only he could understand, then left himself, deliberately drawing attention elsewhere so my choice wouldn't be wasted.
To protect the child entrusted to him—no matter what.
In recent years, I've developed a new technique with my Paper-Paper Fruit.
I can extend paper from my body and project any scene I want onto it.
It can even reproduce texture and perspective—like an ultra-high-resolution photograph or a perfect color copy.
But it requires an extremely clear mental image. For now, all I can reliably project is the exact scenery I'm currently looking at. My ability is racing ahead of my control.
Still, it's absurdly useful.
Like just now—I used it to conceal someone and help them escape, like a ninja's hiding art.
Though… does this even count as a "paper" power?
Well, it's technically paper. Just a color copy.
Sigh. Devil Fruits are always vague about what they can and can't do.
Later in the story, Brook suddenly started using something called the Chill of the Underworld and turned into an ice-ghost act. Smoker, after becoming a Vice Admiral, could make smoke into extra fists—real, physical fists, not just shapes. At a certain point, anything goes.
Personally, the most baffling Devil Fruit is still the Op-Op Fruit.
It does things that go way beyond surgery. Swapping bodies and minds, creating shockwaves, producing lightning—at that point it's practically occult.
The user's imagination and growth seem to expand the fruit's reach, not just its strength. Maybe that's how it works.
Anyway.
I call this technique "Shallow Lie" (Texture Surprise).
The inspiration is obvious: that insane clown's trick from a certain hunter manga♠. It's practically identical. …Has that series resumed yet?
Either way, I used it to hide the girl and get her away from those three.
I really hope Zephyr has her now.
I concealed her in a way only he could see, making her invisible to the men chasing us.
After that, I escaped myself by pushing Shallow Lie to its limits.
Here's what I did: I slipped into a random abandoned house and placed a sheet of paper—inscribed with Shallow Lie—over a window.
On the paper, I projected an image of myself hiding motionless inside the house. I didn't mention this earlier, but even if I can't see the scene directly, I can still project my own image clearly if I hold it in my mind.
With that illusion in place, anyone peering through the grimy glass would think I was inside, holding my breath, trying not to be found.
In a dim room, behind dirty windowpanes, it becomes even harder to notice the "texture" of the trick.
Please fall for it, I thought—and immediately fled the house.
After a while, I felt the pursuers' presences vanish.
Either they took the bait… or I simply managed to shake them.
Either way, I escaped.
…But this isn't the time to relax.
There's no way they'll let this go.
In Enies Lobby, the Galley-La men—despite seeing the faces of the agents—were left alone.
Best-case scenario, Cipher Pol decides, What can a mere civilian do?
But if not… I have to assume the worst.
First: contact my people.
Then: return to base and grab anything we can carry.
If things have escalated this far, our initial response will decide everything. No time to waste mourning or panicking.
There's too much to do.
Move.
And that's how I ended up here.
"55 million berries… a respectable bounty, huh? Sigh… What should I do now?"
To be continued...