—Broadcast - Flashback—
Rewinding to the night when Hoshigaki Kisame and Fleet Admiral Artoria Pendragon first met, the fish-man hadn't expected that the newly appointed acting Fleet Admiral would appear as an underage blonde girl. How could such a person possibly rebuild a nation from ruins and pull the shattered Marine up from the rubble of institutional collapse?
"The Fleet Admiral is genuinely unconventional," one voice murmured outside the office. "She actually wants to personally receive a fish-man. Most commanders would delegate such meetings to subordinates."
"The fish-men are equally deserving of diplomatic courtship," another voice replied. "The Fleet Admiral doesn't harbor any racial prejudices whatsoever. It's... refreshing."
Admiral Esdeath stood nearly two meters tall, but the person she conversed with qualified as a dwarf by comparison. From frontal height perspective, his stature barely reached the woman's knees—a comical visual disparity.
Being short wasn't disadvantageous in combat, however. Sometimes it proved tremendously beneficial. He was completely wrapped in a purple combat suit that crackled with residual electrical discharge, though observers could still discern mink characteristics despite the coverage. The exposed skin bore lush hair typical of his species, and across his back hung a Marine justice cloak specially tailored for his diminutive frame.
Admiral Kennen—nicknamed Thunder Rat—possessed the Goro Goro no Mi, a Logia-type Devil Fruit granting complete lightning transformation and manipulation. His small stature belied apocalyptic combat capabilities.
"We'll simply guard the entrance and remain available when summoned," Kennen stated in his high-pitched voice, static crackling around his words.
Admiral Kennen and Admiral Esdeath positioned themselves on the left and right sides of the Fleet Admiral's office door respectively, acting as protective deities ensuring Artoria Pendragon wouldn't suffer disturbance from external factors during the crucial conversation ahead.
After Kisame entered the Fleet Admiral's office, he carefully observed the knight-like girl occupying the primary seat. What kind of charisma did this newly appointed acting Fleet Admiral possess that she could command two top-tier combatants outside her door with casual authority?
"There's a chair beside you," Artoria noted without looking up from her paperwork. "If you prefer standing while we converse, I respect your choice."
The Fleet Admiral set down her brush and massaged sore fingers, grimacing slightly at the accumulated tension. The Marine maintained tremendous backlog of official documents requiring attention—many crucial decisions demanded the acting Fleet Admiral's personal approval. The knight girl worked from dawn until midnight with virtually no respite.
However, encountering such a powerful fish-man during this routine inspection mission genuinely delighted her despite the exhaustion.
After both sides exchanged names and basic pleasantries, the tense atmosphere eased marginally. Kisame didn't intend continuing pointless verbal dancing with the acting Fleet Admiral. He asked directly: "You dispatched two Admirals to invite me aboard. This shouldn't be as simple as wanting casual conversation. If you have specific purpose, state it directly and don't waste everyone's time."
Initially, the fish-man suspected the Marine wanted extracting secrets about the Wet Bone Forest. Kisame feared this matter's exposure above all else. That unknown deep-sea sanctuary must never appear before human awareness, never become subject to their exploitation.
Kisame understood human greed and ambition with crystalline clarity. If humans obtained power that didn't belong to them—knowledge they hadn't earned through proper means—they would definitely squander it without appreciation, ultimately triggering unpredictable catastrophe.
Artoria's emerald eyes seemed capable of perceiving thoughts directly. She noticed that Kisame maintained extreme vigilance, clearly unwilling to allow outsiders learning certain secrets about fish-men capabilities. The acting Fleet Admiral would be lying if she claimed no curiosity about how such a powerful fish-man had been cultivated—his strength rivaled or exceeded most Vice Admirals despite lacking Devil Fruit advantages.
The Knight King suppressed her intellectual curiosity and redirected the conversation toward a different subject entirely. "Hoshigaki Kisame, I'm not interested in your secrets. Every person who joins the Marine carries a past too painful for casual discussion. I would prefer understanding your perspective on fish-men's future prospects, and your assessment of your species' greatest hero—Fisher Tiger."
Fisher Tiger, a fish-man adventurer, had been dead for nearly two decades. Yet his glorious deeds and heroic image continued circulating widely across Fish-Man Island. Regardless of species prejudice, he genuinely deserved recognition as a liberator who freed countless slaves from bondage.
"Wasn't Boss Fisher Tiger killed by your Marine?" Kisame's voice hardened with old anger. "The fish-men will never forget that scar. Blood debts don't fade with time."
Although Hoshigaki Kisame had never served in the Sun Pirates personally, he'd heard extensive accounts of Fisher Tiger's legendary deeds. During periods of directionless confusion, that hero represented the only spiritual support sustaining fish-men's collective hope for better futures.
Fisher Tiger's influence faced constant erasure throughout the human-dominated world. The Celestial Dragons wanted everyone forgetting that fire had once consumed the Holy Land Mary Geoise, that a single fish-man had liberated thousands of slaves from their "divine" ownership.
This shame had embedded itself deeply in the World Nobles' collective psyche. Fish-Man Island suffered consequences—for extended periods, its status as a World Government allied nation teetered on the edge of complete revocation. Since the Marine proved fundamentally unreliable, King Neptune's desperate appeals to powerful pirate crews represented helpless choice equivalent to bargaining with predators.
Speaking of fish-men's future? Did fish-men even possess viable futures anymore? Even Fish-Man Island beneath the ocean depths no longer qualified as sanctuary.
Through deliberate indulgence from both Marine and World Government, various pirate crews completed coating procedures via the Sabaody Archipelago, dove to Fish-Man Island, then proceeded toward the Grand Line's second half. During this perilous journey, only approximately half the pirate groups survived the descent through crushing ocean pressure and territorial sea kings.
However, such brutal screening mechanisms caused Fish-Man Island's safety factors plummeting catastrophically. The reason the New World earned its designation as "Pirate Paradise" traced to simple fact: every pirate surviving the journey possessed either tremendous personal power or extraordinary luck. Often both.
Consequently, the Marine proved completely unable intervening in the New World's internal affairs. The best they could accomplish was maintaining presence at entry points, watching pirates inside engage in continuous revelry while that region transformed into genuinely lawless ocean.
"Fisher Tiger was authentically heroic," Artoria stated with conviction that surprised Kisame. "Not merely a pioneer in slave liberation, but a man who sacrificed his life for his entire species' welfare."
Artoria Pendragon had accidentally encountered Fisher Tiger's archival materials while reviewing historical records during her initial assumption of Fleet Admiral duties. From various information preserved about his life and death, the fish-man had genuinely been a tragic hero in classical mold.
Fisher Tiger never concealed the shame of having been enslaved by Celestial Dragons himself. He harbored profound resentment toward humans—understandable given his traumatic experiences. During his crusade liberating slaves, humans had betrayed him repeatedly despite his mercy. Finally, while attempting to break through Marine encirclement after a raid gone wrong, he sustained catastrophic injuries requiring immediate blood transfusion.
But Fisher Tiger refused accepting human blood. He would never surrender to humans even facing certain death.
Because he understood with absolute clarity: if he didn't die today, Fish-Man Island and the five million kinsmen living there would continue existing under constant terror. The Marine and World Government would never forgive his people for one individual's transgressions. They would extract collective punishment from the innocent.
On his deathbed, Fisher Tiger didn't release his hatred for humans—that poison had sunk too deep into his soul for deathbed redemption. However, he expressed desperate hope that after his passing, the hatred cycle between fish-men and humans could finally be severed.
Queen Otohime had been correct in her peaceful philosophy. If two species remained perpetually filled with mutual hatred, they could never achieve genuine coexistence across this ocean. Hatred bred only more hatred, violence answering violence in endless escalation.
But tragically, no kinsman emerged capable of properly inheriting Fisher Tiger's will after his death. The Sun Pirates fractured along ideological fault lines. Crew members adopted two radically different positions—one faction led by Jinbe, the other by Arlong.
After Jinbe accepted induction into the Seven Warlords of the Sea, he became the compromise faction's representative—someone willing to work within human systems for gradual change. Arlong returned to pure piracy and became the radical faction's representative, his mind saturated with racial superiority complexes and discrimination. Fisher Tiger's nuanced ideas were shelved completely, idolized and sanctified beyond recognition, losing their original practical application.
To protect Fisher Tiger's glorious reputation and conceal the shameful historical fact that he'd been enslaved by Celestial Dragons, his follower Arlong fabricated a poisonous lie. The saw-nosed radical claimed the hero died from blood loss specifically because humans refused providing blood transfusion—a deliberate racial attack rather than Fisher Tiger's own principled choice.
Therefore, the fish-man hero's death became weaponized as primary justification for fish-men's escalating hostility toward humans. The truth—that Fisher Tiger chose death over accepting human help, hoping his sacrifice would end the hatred cycle—became buried beneath convenient propaganda.
Arlong's lie proved more useful for recruitment than Fisher Tiger's actual final wishes. Hatred united people more effectively than hope for peaceful coexistence.
"You know the truth," Kisame observed quietly, studying Artoria's expression. "You've read the actual reports, not the propaganda versions."
"I have," Artoria confirmed. "And I believe Fisher Tiger deserves better legacy than becoming a tool for perpetuating the very hatred he died trying to end."
She leaned forward, emerald eyes intense with conviction.
"Hoshigaki Kisame, I'm rebuilding the Marine into something different from the corrupt institution that contributed to Fisher Tiger's death. A system where fish-men advance based on merit, not species. Where someone like you can become Admiral not despite being fish-man, but simply because you're qualified."
"Under my command, we honor Fisher Tiger's actual legacy—not Arlong's distorted version. We work toward the coexistence he died hoping to achieve, even if he couldn't believe in it himself anymore."