Nami Pov
It had been weeks since she joined this crew, a crew that had gone out of its way to help her exorcise the demons from her past, just as they had for Usopp. These were more than just shipmates; they were family. They traveled for adventure, for treasure, and to understand the inner workings of the wide, mysterious seas. It was ambitious, perhaps even foolish, but Nami knew that without risk, there could be no reward.
Her thoughts were abruptly cut short when she slammed into what felt like a solid brick wall. She tumbled to the pavement, her shopping bags spilling clothes across the cobblestones beneath night lights.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, rubbing her forehead where the impact had dazed her.
She was ready to snap a curse at whoever had been in her way, but then she saw him. Dressed in sharp, dark clothing, he looked like a high-end businessman, though his face—devilishly handsome as it was—carried a terrifying appearance. Two blades rested on his left hip, and his black shoes were spotless. He looked impeccably put together.
"I apologize, my lady," he said softly. The voice was smooth, but it didn't match the subtle slightly intimidation of his facial features.
He moved to help her up, his grip firm and steady as he gathered her fallen bags. Nami felt her breath hitch as she looked into his dark eyes. She knew that look. Years of being a pickpocket and a burglar in the world's grittiest corners had taught her how to read people, and the man standing before her was a killer. There wasn't a single doubt in her mind.
She forced a smile, the brightest, fakest one she had in her arsenal. "It's perfectly fine! I'm just so clumsy!" she chirped, brushing off her skirt.
"No, it was my fault," the tall man admitted. "The streets are chaotic today and I wasn't looking." He offered a pleasant smile, but Nami saw right through the mask. A liar.
"We should get going, Toji," a voice called from slightly behind him.
Nami suppressed a shiver when she saw the speaker. He was thin, tall, and youthful, with eyes narrowed into slits that gave him the appearance of a fox—or perhaps a snake. He smiled at her, and a bolt of pure instinct shot up her spine. He also wore a black suit, hands tucked casually into his pockets, a katana resting at his hip.
Every instinct she possessed told her these men weren't just civilians, pirates, most definitely pirates! They felt like silent executioners. She realized with a jolt of irony that even in a major trade hub with a Marine base, men like this walked freely. She prayed Luffy was staying out of trouble and that the others were safe; she needed to move carefully.
"If you'll excuse us," the man named Toji gave her an apologetic nod. She reciprocated the gesture with a casual wave, watching them walk away. They were heading toward the Marine district.
The fools, she thought, huffing in annoyance once they were out of earshot. They deserve to get caught, walking around like they own the place. Still, she had to meet the boys in the lower square soon. She couldn't afford to linger.
Buggy's POV
"Captain Buggy, are you alright?!" Mohji asked, staring at the sudden, bloodless pallor on his captain's face.
"It's him," Buggy whispered, his voice trembling as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Him who?" Mohji tilted his head. He was nervous, his captain was a coward, yes, but it was rare to see him this genuinely petrified in the East Blue.
Buggy dropped to the floor of the rooftop, shoving the binoculars into Mohji's hands. Mohji scanned the crowd below but saw nothing noteworthy.
"Who is it, Captain? Who?!"
"There's a Rear Admiral here!" Buggy hissed, his usual theatrical exaggeration replaced by genuine dread.
"A Rear Admiral?" Mohji repeated, looking unconcerned.
Buggy facepalmed. He had forgotten that most of his crew were green; they didn't understand what that rank meant. In the "peaceful" East Blue, you only saw Captains and Base Commanders. Higher ranks stayed in the deeper dredges of the Grand Line where they were needed the most.
But it wasn't just the rank. It was the man. Toji of the Black Dawn, the "Black Wolf."
Buggy remembered the news paper reports. Galak Island, where Toji and his crew had decimated the Vane Pirates. Charles Vane, a man with a 370-million-berry bounty, had died at Toji's feet. Before him, Gaius "Red Axe" Merick—643 million, had been put down by the Black Wolf's blade.
If a man like that could slaughter heavy hitters from the New World, what chance did Buggy have? His plan to execute that brat Straw Hat just got a lot more complicated. He couldn't risk the center of town now. He'd have to stick to the outskirts near the execution platform and pray he stayed unnoticed.
"Mohji, let's go!"
"Yes, boss!"
They jumped down into the shadows of the crowd. Buggy gritted his teeth. He would kill Straw Hat Luffy no matter what, but he wasn't about to let the Black Wolf catch scent of him.
........................
A little Later
Bradley's POV: The Cordon
"When the sky falls and the earth shatters, tell me—where do you think we'll all be? Do you think God, or the gods, will descend? Do you think Judgment Day shall finally come? No one knows. People won't care; they never do, even when the world around them falls apart."
Bradley's monologue was dark, delivered with an intensity that bordered on the comical given the audience. He stood tall in his Marine cloak, an obvious enemy standing squarely in the middle of their territory.
"I'll give you a chance now," Bradley added, his tone shifting from philosophical to negotiable. "Surrender yourselves. Relinquish all weapons and arms. Kneel now, and we will spare a many of you, from death."
The fifty gathered pirates of the Alvida crew cackled, laughing in his face.
"You're either dumb or stupid, Marine," one shouted. "You came here alone to this territory, you should've known better cause no one enters Alvida-sama's territory, especially your kind, without facing the consequences."
"Alvida's territory?" Bradley asked, looking genuinely perplexed. "The last time I checked, this island was under the protection of the World Government and Marine jurisdiction, not some upstart pirate from the East Blue that even common crooks wouldn't recognize."
The burly man who had spoken prior scowled, drawing his cutlass to charge. "Who the hell do you think you are, you piece of shit?!"
Unbeknownst to them, the entire area had been cordoned off. Approximately two hundred highly trained Marines from the Custodian had boxed them in.
"I'll take that as a 'no,' then," Bradley said without emotion. He drew his own blade, a specialized spadroon-style saber with an ornate hilt. "I hope we can save a few of you for prison. Or perhaps not."
He signaled with a slight gesture of his hand. The pirates didn't understand the movement, but the hidden Marine forces did.
The area was suddenly drowned in gunfire. A hail of bullets poured into the criminal crowd. The flashes of muzzles drowned out the screams of men flinging themselves toward cover that didn't exist in such an open space. When the gunfire ceased, only a few survivors remained. They tried to return fire, but it was a futile gesture—especially when Bradley vanished and reappeared in their midst, separating torsos from limbs.
He slashed a man from shoulder to groin, the two halves falling away with a sickly "plop!". He dodged and deflected stray bullets with his saber, leaving the survivors gazing in disbelief. They would all die, one by one. No survivors. No one to tell the tale of how they fell. That story would be written and twisted by the Marines.
Now once it was all said and done.
Bradley stood amidst the rising steam of the courtyard, the metallic tang of blood mixing with the smell of the approaching storm. He pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his breast pocket and began to wipe the edge of his spadroon, his movements methodical and devoid of haste. Around him, the "custodians" moved like wraiths in their standard marine clothing and black suits, efficiently stacking the bodies and retrieving spent shell casings. They didn't speak; they didn't need to. They were an extension of a singular professional will, and experience gained over multiple fierce battles
"Check their pockets," Bradley commanded, his voice projecting through the rain without him needing to raise it. "Any documentation, any logbooks, any correspondence. Take it all"
One of the sergeants nodded, moving to the corpse of the burly man Bradley had bifurcated moments ago.
Bradley looked up at the sky, the dark clouds swirling into a violent vortex over the center of town. He knew that look. He knew it all too well. Toji was out there, playing games with the "future," while he and Ichimaru were left to do the necessary, ugly housework, his commander had planned out quickly at the restaurant.
Gain advanced chapters and support me on my p@treon: [email protected]/BlackHorizon612
Just remove the @ sign