Author's Note: Hmm, so... I bet you guys are all surprised to see this. I know I still have "Raftel Rumble!" up, and "Luffy Overboard"... but truth be told, they're not my best works. "Luffy Overboard" is postponed indefinitely (but I'll keep it up for the readers' sake), and I'm thinking about re-writing/updating "Raftel Rumble!" once I've finished this story. Hopefully, this right here will be my first complete multi-chaptered One Piece fic. For now, please enjoy, and let me know what you guys think. I'm always looking to improve my story-telling skills, so that my readers can actually think I'm good writer. =P
- Captain Blue


Chapter 1
The Death They Won't Investigate! Enter Detective Sanji

The first thing I notice is the newspaper lying on my desk, front page facing the ceiling. Intrigued, I move over and sit down in my rusting swivel chair, placing my bag at my feet. With a small sigh, I pick up the paper and read the headline:

Whitebeard Gang Commander "Fire Fist" Ace Found Dead!
The body of Portgas D. Ace was discovered late last night, lying in an alleyway between Rain Diners and the Sakura Casino. Known as the "Fire Fist" for his unusual ability to set his hands on fire, Portgas was instated as the Commander of the Second Division of the infamous Whitebeard Gang, who have controlled most of the Grand Line Casino Strip for the past several decades. The police have issued no official statement regarding Portgas's death, but it can be expected that "Whitebeard" will be willing to issue retribution.

The article goes on to describe the details of the Whitebeard Gang. I toss the paper back on my desk, pulling out of a package of King Ground cigarettes from my breast pocket. I pull a fresh one out, stick it between my lips, and light it up. The first inhale is like a breath of fresh air, heating up my lungs. Can you believe my shitty doctor wants me to quit?

Oh, I should probably introduce myself. My name's Sanji. I'm a private detective, specializing in gang-related stuff. Y'see, this whole section of hotels, casinos, and various other establishments is called the "Grand Line". Why they call it that is beyond me, but anyways, this whole place used to be ruled by a powerful gangster by the name of Roger. When the cops got him, he had a public execution, but not before he challenged everyone to find this huge stack of cash he had hidden somewhere. Now a bunch of gangs have risen up, trying to find it. I wouldn't mind getting a chunk of it myself, but there are ladies out there I have to protect.

All of a sudden, the door to my office bursts open, and in comes running this lanky kid with a ratty straw hat and bright red vest. He's all panicky and sweating bullets as he charges up to my desk. I'm used to this, so I just recline in my chair, putting my feet up on my desk, hands behind my head. "What's up, Luffy?" I ask, keeping my precious cig clenched between my teeth.

Luffy notices the paper on my desk and grabs it, holding it up to my face. "Ace is dead!" He gasps. "They killed my brother!"

My spiral eyebrow rises up. "Eh? I didn't know you had a brother," This kid goes on and on about finding Roger's treasure and becoming the next Gangster King, but he never bothers telling me about his family.

"I do! Well… I did." He frowns as he looks at the paper. I exhale some smoke, tapping some ash into my ashtray, waiting for him to continue. "I can't believe it… who did this?" He shouts, shoving the paper back into my face.

I roll my eyes. Eye, actually. I keep my right eye covered with my blond bangs for reasons I'll never divulge or else I'll have to gut you whole. Anyways, I sit up straight, looking at the young gang leader. "Lemme guess. You wanna hire me to find out who did this?"

Luffy nods furiously, his eyes blazing with thoughts of righteous fury. "Yes! Sanji, you gotta find out who did this! The cops aren't gonna investi… invegi…"

"Investigate," I prompt. This guy's a great fighter but I swear he's got rubber for brains.

"Yeah, that. The cops aren't gonna do that because he was in a gang."

I scoff. Those shitty cops refuse to solve half of the homicide cases since they all involve gang members as the victims. I know for a fact that they'd probably give the killers medals… if they weren't gang members themselves. I fold my arms, looking up at Luffy, who only blinks in response.

"Oh," he says finally. "Don't worry; I'll get Nami to pay you." He tries to grin, but it putters about half-way. I guess it's hard to be a cheerful idiot when your brother's died. Not that I would know, I'm an only child.

While my mind dances happily at the thought of the spunky orange-haired woman who works in Luffy's gang, my face is all business. At least, I would hope so: some people have told me that my eye turns into a heart whenever I spot a pretty lady. "It's no problem, Luffy." I tell him. "You won't need to pay me until I solve this case." Never mind that I'm months behind on my rent and my smoking habit drains my wallet like nobody's business.

"Great," Luffy replies, staring back at the paper. He turns around to walk out, but I clear my throat and hold out my hand. He turns back around and hands the paper back. "Sorry. Look, I should find Old Man Whitebeard, and see what'll happen next." He gives a small, half-hearted wave and walks out, closing the door behind him.

I exhale some smoke, watching it twist and turn before dissipating. I scratch the small goatee growing on my chin, wondering what my first step is going to be. Some time (and several cigs) later, I figure some intelligence wouldn't hurt. I stand up and dust of my suit: appearance is everything after all, especially when you're trying to score a beautiful lady. As I grab my coat, I check my watch: it's a little after six in the evening. Good, Shakky's still open.

I lock my office door behind me and climb down a few flights of stairs, tip-toeing past the landlord's apartment. Can't let him see me when I don't have any cash yet. Again, I wouldn't mind having some of Roger's haul. I try to focus on my new assignment as I light up another cig, stepping out into the evening scenery.

There are lights everywhere: lights to attract attention, lights to advertise, lights to illuminate the sidewalks. And for some reason City Hall still decides to add lights for Christmas. That's just overkill, in my opinion. Anyways, I've learned to shut out most of the distractions: I'm still drawn in towards the burlesque shows and such. But for now, I make my way towards where I need to be: Shakky's "Rip Off" Bar. It's run by an ex-gangster, who quit about four decades ago but looks like she's only 30 or so. The world is a mysterious place.

I reach the right door, knock a few times, and wait. A small slot opens up and a pair of eyes glare at me through it.

"Password," the eyes demand, narrowing tightly.

"I don't need no shitty password." I say. "Do we really have to play this shitty game every shitty time?"

"Password." The eyes snap dangerously, narrowing even more at me.

"Fine, fine. 'Knowledge is power.'" I reply, and the slot closes up. I hear the clicks of numerous locks, and the door swings open inside. "Thanks," I say, walking by the doorman keeping to the shadows. "Shitty doorman," I add under my breath as I duck through the curtains into Shakky's bar.

I take a deep inhale: booze, tobacco smoke, greasy food, and perfume. I sigh contently, walking up to the bar. I really need to come to this place more often, I think as I slide onto a barstool closest to a broken jukebox and glance around. And there sure are a lot of beautiful mademoiselles here, too~

My thoughts are broken when I feel someone slam a bottle of bourbon onto my hand. I wince and turn to the bar, grinning sheepishly. "Heh heh… hey there, Miss Shakky. I guess you're still mad at me, huh?" Oh, yeah. Now I remember why I don't come here more…

To be continued…