Location: Reverse Mountain Entrance Year: 1521
The laws of physics had been polite suggestions in the East Blue. Here, at the entrance to the Grand Line, they were completely ignored.
Hiroki's small skiff was no longer sailing; it was falling upwards.
The current of the Reverse Mountain was a roar of white foam and terrifying kinetic energy. The water rushed up the side of the massive Red Line, defying gravity, carrying his boat like a leaf in a hurricane.
Hiroki stood at the tiller, his feet locked into straps he had nailed to the deck back in Loguetown. His knuckles were white.
[Stamina Draining: Rapid][Environmental Hazard: Extreme]
"Right... adjust three degrees right," he muttered through gritted teeth.
[Tactical Insight Active]
Current Velocity: 80 knots.Trajectory: Collision course with Red Line stratum C.Correction Required: Hard starboard.
He slammed his weight against the rudder. The wood groaned. The Acceleration Boost flared in his muscles, not for speed, but for raw torque to fight the ocean itself.
The boat shuddered, banking hard. Spray hit his face, stinging like buckshot. He cleared the jagged rocks of the entrance gate by less than a meter.
"Made it," he gasped.
Now, he was in the canal. The clouds were below him. He was sailing into the sky.
It was majestic. It was terrifying. It was the throat of the world.
As the boat crested the peak, the mist cleared. Below lay the Grand Line. The descent was steeper than the ascent—a sheer drop into a foggy abyss.
"Here we go," Hiroki whispered.
The boat tipped over the edge.
Location: Twin Cape Year: 1521
The descent was a blur of speed. Hiroki didn't fight the rudder now; he just kept the nose straight.
But as he pierced the cloud layer near the bottom, a shadow emerged.
It wasn't an island. It was a wall. A wall of black, scarred flesh.
[Observation Haki: WARNING][Massive Biological Obstacle Detected]
Laboon.
The Island Whale was right at the exit of the canal, wailing at the mountain. His massive head was a tapestry of scars from decades of slamming against the Red Line.
Hiroki's skiff was hurtling straight toward the whale's eye.
"I'm not Luffy," Hiroki thought frantically. "I can't bounce off him!"
He couldn't turn. The current was too strong.
He had to brake.
Hiroki abandoned the tiller. He leaped to the bow of the skiff. He drew Umitsubame.
He didn't aim at the whale. He aimed at the water directly in front of the boat.
Breath of water. Displacement.
[Strength: 21.5][Technique: Breaking Wave - Reverse Flow]
He slashed downward with everything he had. The air pressure slam hit the water, creating a localized explosion of spray and force. It acted like a retro-rocket.
BOOM.
The boat bucked violently, the nose diving into the depression caused by the slash. Speed dropped from 80 knots to 20 in a second.
Hiroki was thrown backward, crashing into the mast.
The boat drifted forward, bumping gently into Laboon's skin with a soft thud.
Laboon blinked. The massive eye, the size of a house, looked down at the tiny boat.
"BWOOOAAAAAA!"
The whale roared. The sound wave nearly shattered Hiroki's eardrums.
Hiroki groaned, sliding down the mast. "Loud..."
"You are a noisy guest," a voice came from a small island—no, a customized interior within the whale? No, looking closer, it was an old man sitting on a folding chair on a small metal platform near the lighthouse.
Crocus.
Hiroki stood up, checking his ribs. Nothing broken. Endurance 13.0 holding up.
"Just passing through," Hiroki called out, sheathing his sword.
Crocus stared at him deadpan. "If you hadn't slowed down, you would have been a stain on his forehead. Or I would have killed you."
"A toss-up, then," Hiroki replied.
He looked at Laboon. The scars were heartbreakingly vivid up close. He knew the story. The Rumbar Pirates. Brook drifting alone in the Triangle.
Hiroki walked to the edge of his boat and placed a hand on Laboon's skin.
"They aren't dead," Hiroki said softly, not to Crocus, but to the whale.
Laboon went still.
"They're just... late," Hiroki whispered. "Wait a little longer. A skeleton with an afro will bring you a song."
It was a risk saying it. But the guilt of the timeline weighed on him. He couldn't fix everything, but he could offer a lie that was actually the truth.
Laboon let out a low, mournful rumble, then submerged, the displacement rocking the boat.
Crocus stood up, his flower-petal hair rustling in the wind. "You say strange things, boy."
"I read strange books," Hiroki lied. He threw a rope to the dock. "Do you have a Log Pose? I only have a compass, and it's spinning like a top."
Crocus reached into his pocket and tossed a glass wrist-compass. "Standard model. Takes a week to reset on the first island. Don't trust the wind. Don't trust the clouds. Trust the glass."
"Payment?"
"Don't die," Crocus grunted, sitting back down. "Too many graves in this sea already."
Hiroki strapped the Log Pose to his wrist. The needle locked onto a magnetic field to the northwest.
"Thanks, Old Man."
Hiroki pushed off.
As he sailed away, he looked back. Crocus was watching him.
"That kid..." Crocus muttered to himself. "His eyes... they look like Roger's when he knew he was running out of time."
Location: The Grand Line - "Paradise" Year: 1521
The weather changed three times in the first hour. First hail, then scorching sun, then a snowstorm that defied the tropical temperature.
Hiroki adjusted his sails constantly.
[Navigation Experience Gained][Observation Haki: 1.6%]
The Log Pose pointed steadily toward the first island.
Whiskey Peak.
The town of bounty hunters.
Hiroki checked his own bounty poster—or lack thereof. He was still unknown. A ghost.
"Perfect," he smiled.
He needed money. He needed food. And Whiskey Peak was essentially a donation center for anyone strong enough to take it from the billions.
He pulled out his Wazamono, Umitsubame. He began to polish it with the clove oil from Loguetown.
"Baroque Works," he mused. "Mr. 5. Miss Valentine. Maybe even Mr. 1."
The interface hummed.
[New Objective: Infiltrate Whiskey Peak][Side Goal: Survive the Grand Line Initiation]
Hiroki looked at the horizon. The East Blue was a pond. This was the ocean. And he was finally swimming with the sharks.
[Chapter 9 End]