They left Maren the next morning at dawn.
The sea was gray and slightly rough, with a northern wind pushing short, choppy waves against the hull of their small boat. Elian rowed in silence for the first hour, letting his thoughts drift calmly around the problem of Crane. Shikamaru sat at the stern, eyes half-closed, seemingly indifferent to the rocking of the boat.
They sailed east, into the area the merchants of Maren had indicated with a vague gesture and a worried look. No precise coordinates—just a direction and an approximate distance. Crane never stayed in one place for long—he moved along the trade routes, predictable in his habits without ever being exactly locatable.
It was Shikamaru who spotted him first, late in the morning.
A dark silhouette on the horizon, larger than their own vessel, with black sails barely distinguishable from the overcast sky. The ship moved slowly, cutting across the trade routes with the nonchalance of a predator that knows its prey will come to it.
"That's him," Shikamaru murmured.
Elian looked at the silhouette without answering. He could feel the heat in his chest, steady and present. He mentally counted his resources: twenty shuriken, three explosive tags. Enough to create chaos. Not enough to hold out indefinitely against a dozen men.
"We're closing in," he said.
"We're closing in," Shikamaru echoed.
***
They didn't have to search for long. Crane's ship changed course as soon as it spotted them, just as Renzo had before him—with that same quiet confidence of people who aren't used to fearing what they see coming.
When the two vessels were close enough, a voice carried over the wind.
"Small boat. Passage tax. Ten thousand Berries."
Elian didn't answer. He was watching the deck of the opposing ship. Twelve men visible—maybe more below. Armed, relaxed, used to situations always turning in their favor.
And at the center of the deck, arms crossed—Crane.
He was younger than Elian had imagined. Barely in his thirties, with an ordinary face and simple clothes that didn't particularly set him apart from his men—except for the way he carried himself. Straight, still, with that calm smile of someone who had never had a reason to be worried.
Shikamaru stepped closer to Elian and murmured, so low only he could hear:
"As soon as we're on board. You go right, I go left. You deal with his men, I'll deal with him. Don't look at him, don't get close to him. Let me handle it."
Elian gave a barely perceptible nod.
He stood and called out to Crane's ship:
"We're coming aboard."
A surprised silence. Then laughter spread among Crane's men like a wave. It wasn't often that a small fishing boat asked to board of its own accord.
Crane's smile widened slightly, and he gestured for them to come closer.
***
They boarded with calm, measured movements.
Elian stepped onto Crane's deck and immediately felt the difference from their small boat—the stability of the larger vessel beneath his feet, the space between the men, the angles and distances. He registered it all in a fraction of a second without letting his gaze linger anywhere.
Crane watched them approach with the expression of a man appreciating a curiosity.
"Brave," he said. "Or stupid. I haven't decided yet."
Shikamaru didn't respond. Neither did Elian.
Crane was the first to move—or rather, he didn't get the chance to.
Shikamaru's shadow stretched across the deck with a speed that surprised even the closest men. It reached Crane's feet before he could react, and the pirate froze instantly, arms still crossed, the smile still on his face—but his eyes suddenly different.
That was the signal.
Elian moved immediately to the right, throwing his first two shuriken not at the men but between them, forcing the two closest to step back instinctively. Then he pulled out the first explosive tag and hurled it toward the densest group, to starboard.
The explosion was short and precise. Three men were thrown backward, stunned. Two others stepped back, reaching for their weapons. Within seconds, the deck turned into a space of confusion and shouts.
Elian had no time to breathe.
There were too many of them.
Crane's men regrouped faster than he had expected, instinctively forming a line between him and their immobilized captain. Four of them charged at once from different angles. Elian dodged the first, blocked the second with his forearm, absorbing the impact, then took a shoulder hit from the third that made him stumble back two steps. The fourth raised his saber.
Elian threw a shuriken point-blank, striking the man's wrist and forcing him to drop the weapon. But behind him, two more were already closing in.
He found himself backed up against the railing, six men forming a semicircle in front of him, the others regrouping. His second tag was in his hand, but he didn't have the angle to use it without risking being caught in the blast.
He thought of what Joris had said. Crane redirected attacks in whatever direction he chose.
Then he thought of something else.
Crane was immobilized. Was his power still active when his body could no longer respond?
He didn't have time to look for a theoretical answer.
He shouted over the heads of the men surrounding him:
"Shikamaru. Make him fall into the water."
A fraction of a second of silence. Then Shikamaru's drawling voice, perfectly calm:
"I was thinking the same."
The shadow shifted slowly, forcing Crane to take one step toward the railing, then another. The men surrounding Elian hesitated, their eyes turning toward their captain. That single second of hesitation was enough.
Elian threw the second tag onto the deck, between himself and the six men, without targeting anyone directly. The explosion shook the deck, scattering the men in different directions. Elian dove to the side, rolled across the deck, and came back to his feet three meters away, outside the semicircle.
Crane was now at the edge of the railing, his feet inches from empty space, still immobilized by Shikamaru's shadow. His smile had vanished. In his eyes, for the first time, something that looked like concern.
"Devil Fruits and water," Shikamaru said in a lazy, almost instructive tone. "A troublesome combination."
He made Crane take one final step.
The pirate tipped over the railing in an almost absurd silence. The sound of the water swallowing him was followed by a brief gurgle—then nothing.
Crane's men froze.
The deck fell silent in a different way than before. No one shouted anymore. No one charged. They looked at the spot where their captain had disappeared, then at Elian and Shikamaru—and in their eyes was that particular expression of men who have just realized they chose the wrong side.
Elian held his last tag between his fingers, unmoving.
Shikamaru had his hands in his pockets.
The first man to drop his weapon did so without a word. The others followed, one by one, with the slow resignation of men who knew the fight was over.
***
They moored Crane's ship at the nearest port, a small Marine outpost less than an hour away. The local Marine representative looked at the bound crew on the deck, then at the two figures who had brought them in, with an expression that held no trace of gratitude.
His name was Voss. In his fifties, uniform impeccable despite the isolation of the post, with eyes that assessed every detail without giving anything away.
"Crane," said Shikamaru. "12 million bounty. He went overboard. We didn't recover the body."
Voss didn't respond right away. He looked at the bound crew, counted the men, inspected the deck of the ship with a methodical gaze. Then he turned back to Elian and Shikamaru with deliberate slowness.
"There are two of you," he said at last. "A kid with purple hair and a man who looks bored." He paused. "And you claim to have neutralized Crane's crew and killed a man with a Devil Fruit."
"We're not claiming," said Shikamaru. "The men are here. So is the ship."
"The body isn't."
"He sank."
Voss crossed his arms. His gaze moved from one face to the other, searching for something that didn't come.
"Do you already have bounties to your name?"
Shikamaru took the receipts from Brek and Renzo out of his pocket and placed them on the counter without a word. Voss examined them slowly, turned them over, checked the stamps. His expression didn't change, but something in his posture shifted slightly.
"Brek. Renzo." He set the documents down. "And now Crane." He looked at them for another moment. "You've come a long way for two unknowns."
"The bounty," Elian said simply.
Voss remained silent for a long moment. Behind him, two Marines watched the scene from the doorway, hands resting on their weapons without drawing them.
"I'll verify," Voss said at last. "The men on that ship will be questioned. If their statements match what you've told me, you'll get your money." He paused. "Come back tomorrow morning."
Elian nodded without answering. Shikamaru picked up the receipts and slipped them back into his pocket.
They left without rushing. Outside, the wind had picked up slightly, making the rigging of the moored ships snap and creak.
"He's going to check," Elian said.
"Of course he is," Shikamaru murmured. "A Devil Fruit in the East Blue, two unknowns, no body. He'd be a fool not to." He paused. "But the men on that ship will confirm it. They have no reason to lie for us—and even less for Crane."
Elian nodded slowly.
They found an inn for the night and waited.
The next morning, Voss handed them the bounty with the same wary expression, without a word more than necessary. He watched them leave from the doorway of his office, arms crossed, like someone carefully filing away a piece of information in the back of his mind.