Tap, tap, tap, tap…
The sharp rhythm of boots hitting cobblestone echoed through the air. Rody turned his head toward the sound and saw a white-haired man with a cold, scarred face, two cigars clenched between his teeth, astride a growling amphibious motorbike. Behind him, a full squad of Marines charged forward in formation, rifles raised.
It was Smoker, the White Hunter of Loguetown.
He stopped a few paces away, dismounting his bike "Billower" with a heavy thud. His gray eyes swept across Rody's group—the red-haired man with the strange markings on his face, the woman with orange hair in his arms, the dignified old butler, and the pink-headed female cook. But his gaze lingered longest on the one thing that made no sense—a talking, walking motorcycle standing upright beside them.
Smoker frowned. What the hell is that?
Then his eyes narrowed on Rody. The resemblance to the wanted poster was unmistakable. "Rody the Slayer," he growled, smoke curling from his lips. "You're under arrest."
At his word, the Marines behind him lifted their rifles in unison, aiming squarely at the group.
Mike adjusted his tie and spoke calmly, "Captain Rody, that's Colonel Smoker, commander of Loguetown's Marine base. A Logia-type Devil Fruit user—the Smoke-Smoke Fruit. They call him the White Hunter."
"Oh?" Rody tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Perfect. I've been wanting to see what a Logia user's attack feels like."
He stepped forward and met Smoker's cold gaze. "Come, White Hunter. Let's see what you can do."
Smoker didn't waste words. He raised his right hand and snapped, "White Blow!"
His arm dissolved into swirling smoke, twisting into a thick spiral column that shot forward like a living storm, coiling around Rody and constricting him in an instant.
"Got him!" shouted one Marine.
"Captain Smoker caught the Slayer!" another yelled, faces lighting with disbelief and joy.
"Hahaha! The Captain's never lost to a pirate trying to reach the Grand Line! Even the most dangerous of them end up in chains!"
But Rody didn't struggle. The dense smoke tightened around him, solid as steel, yet he didn't look concerned—only curious.
Windfire Wheel's engines sputtered nervously. "That guy can turn his body into smoke. Captain's really okay with this?"
Carmen bit her lip. "I've heard of him too. Smoker's supposed to be one of the toughest Marines in the East Blue."
Mike only smiled faintly. "Don't worry. Lord Rody hasn't even taken this seriously yet."
Rody flexed his fingers and reached into the smoke around his body. His hand passed straight through it. "Huh. Interesting."
"Don't waste your strength," Smoker said coldly. "I'm a Logia user. Physical attacks won't work on me."
"Oh?" Rody chuckled. "Then… what about this?"
Dark energy flickered over his arm—Armament Haki, cold and dense like obsidian. He clenched his fist, grasping the smoke itself. For the first time, the air felt solid in his palm, like clutching a living cloud with bones beneath it.
He could feel Smoker's body through the haze—a shape of vapor held together by will.
Smoker's breath hitched. "Tch—!"
The pain came sharp and sudden. "Damn it… Haki!" he hissed, eyes widening in disbelief.
"The East Blue," he muttered through gritted teeth, "and there's a Haki user here?"
Rody's grin widened. He yanked the smoke-bound arm hard—and Smoker's entire body was pulled off his feet, dragged forward as though hooked by an invisible chain.
Instinctively, Smoker swung his jitte—its seastone tip gleaming—but before he could strike, Rody's fist slammed into his gut.
The blow hit like a cannon.
Smoker's cigars flew from his mouth as blood burst from his lips. His body crashed through his own men, bowling several over before smashing into a wall and sliding down it, coughing violently.
"C-Captain Smoker's been beaten!"
"No way! He's a Logia user—how could he even be touched?"
The Marines stared in shock.
Windfire Wheel whooped. "Hah! I knew it! Captain's unbeatable! How could that puff of smoke ever stand a chance?"
Carmen clapped her hands, twirling in delight. "Now I'm really sure Captain can lead us to the Blue Sea! Oh, ha-ha-ha!" She spun so fast that Mike simply sighed. They were used to her antics by now.
Meanwhile, Tashigi rushed to Smoker's side, panic written across her face. "Captain! Are you all right?!"
Smoker coughed blood again, shooting her a sideways glare. "Do I look all right to you?"
"Take the troops and run," he said through clenched teeth. "He's using Haki. No one here can fight him. Don't throw your lives away."
"We're not leaving you behind!" Tashigi cried.
"Yeah!" the Marines shouted. "Even if we die, we'll stand with you, Captain!"
Smoker gritted his teeth. "You damn fools…"
Rody sighed, rubbing his temple. "Can you people stop with the melodrama already? You're making this scene longer than it needs to be." He waved a hand. "Relax. I'm not going to kill you."
Smoker glared up at him. "You expect us to Believe that? You've killed countless men since you set sail. Why spare us?"
Rody looked down at him, smiling faintly. "Because if I wanted you dead, you'd already be in pieces."
"Then why…?"
"Because you're interesting," Rody said simply. He turned away, wrapping an arm around Nami's waist. "You've got potential, Smoker. You're not at your limit yet. You could become much stronger. And I want to see how far you'll climb."
He walked toward the harbor, laughter rising behind him. "So live, and grow. The next time we meet, if you're still this weak, I'll slaughter every Marine you command. Don't disappoint me, White Hunter!"
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
His laughter echoed down the street until the sound faded into the wind.
Smoker slammed a fist against the ground, smoke curling around his knuckles. "You bastard… next time we meet, I swear I'll take you down."
His voice was rough but steady, his eyes burning through the haze.
"Rody the Slayer…" he growled.