Chapter 19: The Clue to Ancient Weapon — Pluton
Three days passed quietly, but tension rippled through the world like an undercurrent before a storm.
Marine Headquarters — Fleet Admiral's Office.
The faint sound of waves from Marineford's coast mixed with the rustle of papers. Fleet Admiral Sengoku stood behind his desk, his expression grave, eyes dark and tired.
In front of him lay a classified report stamped "Top Secret — Cipher Pol 9."
He reread it twice, jaw tightening.
When Vice Admiral Tsuru entered, she immediately sensed something was wrong.
"Sengoku," she said softly, "what happened?"
Sengoku sighed heavily, setting the report down.
"After four years of undercover work, CP9 finally confirmed it—the blueprints for the Ancient Weapon Pluton are in Water Seven."
Tsuru's sharp eyes narrowed. "Pluton… They actually found it?"
She paused. "But CP9 doesn't fall under our jurisdiction. What are those fossils in Mary Geoise planning now?"
Sengoku's voice hardened. "What else? You know how they think. Once they lay their hands on those blueprints, they'll bury the secret and every person connected to it."
He frowned deeper. "But something went wrong in Water Seven. The World Government wants us to investigate."
His irritation was obvious.
The Cipher Pol and the Marines might both serve the Government—but they walked different paths. The Cipher Pol were shadows, silent executioners loyal to the Celestial Dragons. The Marines were soldiers of the sea, guardians of what little stability the world still had.
Tsuru's eyes glimmered with quiet anger. "So now they want us to clean up their mess."
Her gaze sharpened. "Water Seven is close to Enies Lobby, and the seas have been too quiet lately…"
She hesitated, voice lowering. "Could it be him?"
Sengoku nodded slowly. "Ever since Lin Yan broke out of Impel Down, he's disappeared completely. Garp searched the New World for a week and found nothing. I suspect he's still on the Grand Line."
Tsuru folded her arms, lost in thought. "He escaped without a ship. Sooner or later, he'll need one. And where else would he go but the greatest shipbuilding city in the world?"
"Water Seven…" Sengoku murmured.
He massaged his temples. "But who do we send? Kizaru's still recovering from his last 'encounter.' Akainu's deep in the New World. Aokiji just departed for an assignment."
He looked utterly weary.
Tsuru smiled faintly. "Then I'll go."
Sengoku's eyes widened. "You?"
She nodded. "It's been years. I could use a visit to old friends."
Sengoku studied her carefully, then nodded. "Fine. But I'll call Aokiji back to assist you. If Lin Yan truly is there…"
He reached for the Den Den Mushi, dialing the code for an Admiral.
Tsuru's face turned thoughtful, shadowed by worry. "Then I'll depart immediately."
…
Water Seven — Sea Train Station.
Steam hissed as the great iron serpent screeched to a stop, its whistle echoing across the city. The bustling port fell silent as the doors opened.
Two men stepped off the train, both tall and radiating an arrogance that chilled the air around them.
Behind them marched a dozen uniformed Marines.
The passengers quickly parted, murmuring uneasily.
It was rare to see CP agents move so publicly—especially these two.
"Gabra-senpai," the younger agent, Nero, whispered nervously, "don't you think this is a bit… too loud? What if it ruins Lucci's plan?"
Gabra's lip curled into a wolfish grin. "What plan? Four years and nothing to show for it. If it were me, I'd have butchered the entire island already."
Nero sighed. "And that's why you're not in charge…"
Water Seven stretched before them—a floating maze of canals, bridges, and shipyards bustling with life.
To the common folk, it was the heart of craftsmanship and trade. To Gabra, it was just another mission.
His grin widened. "I heard Kalifa's still working as Iceburg's secretary. Maybe we should… pay our former comrade a little visit.
Nero groaned. "Oh no. This won't end well."
Gabra laughed darkly. "Relax. Just a friendly reunion."
…
Water Seven — Dock One.
Inside the cavernous shipyard, the rhythmic clang of hammers filled the air.
Iceburg led Lucian Vale through the workshop, where dozens of shipwrights labored under torchlight. Sawdust and the scent of fresh-cut wood hung thick in the air.
And at the center of it all—towering over the workers—stood the skeletal frame of a massive ship, its hull taking shape piece by piece.
"Mr. Lucian," Iceburg said proudly, "I've reassigned every available craftsman to your vessel. If the pace continues, half a month more and it'll be finished."
Lucian nodded approvingly. "Half a month ahead of schedule. Excellent."
Iceburg hesitated, his voice softening. "About… what you promised me—"
Lucian waved a hand dismissively. "I don't break promises. You build the ship. Leave the rest to me."
Relief washed over Iceburg's face.
He turned toward the ship, his eyes glowing with determination. "Then I'll get back to work. If you're bored, Kalifa can show you around the city."
Lucian smiled slightly. "No need."
He turned to Kalifa, who stood beside him with her usual graceful obedience.
"Kalifa," he said calmly, "let's go greet our guests."
He slipped an arm around her waist—
—and vanished.
…
At the gates of Iceburg's mansion.
Two guards stood watch, confused by the sudden arrival of armed strangers.
"Hey! Gatekeeper!" Gabra shouted, his voice booming across the courtyard. "Tell Iceburg to come out and see me!"
The guards frowned. "The mayor is busy. Do you have an appointment?"
Gabra blinked. "…Appointment?"
"You think I—Gabra—need an appointment to see a mere mayor?!"
The guard blinked slowly. "So… no appointment."
Gabra's eyes went cold. "Rankyaku?" he muttered. Then smirked. "No. Shigan."
In a flash, he vanished.
A single wet thunk split the silence.
The guard's eyes widened as blood blossomed across his chest. He crumpled to the ground without a sound.
Gasps echoed from nearby civilians.
Water Seven—a city that thrived on peace and trade—hadn't seen violence like this in decades.
Gabra wiped his hand and licked a drop of blood from his finger, grinning like a wolf.
"I sentence you to death in the name of the World Government."
"Anyone else who blocks me—dies next.
Nero groaned and covered his face. "I knew this would turn into a disaster…"
And from somewhere high above, Lucian's voice drifted faintly through the air—calm, cold, amused.
"So the dogs finally came sniffing."
"The timing's perfect."
He stepped out of thin air, descending like a shadow over the mansion gates.
"Let's see if they've learned anything… about Pluton."
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