"You're rocking the boat, missy. Literally."
"Oops! Sorry."
With that, Koala sat still in her place at the prow of the gondola. She resisted the urge to fidget, although considering how cold it was down here a little movement might have helped warm her up. Still, better to exercise some self-control. That was something she had to work on. Along with the apologizing. Old habits died hard.
No further comment was made as their small craft continued to traverse the underground waterways. Only a faint green glow came from a shuttered glass lamp hanging off the boat's prow-head. This left most of the tunnel still lost in darkness, forcing them to rely on their ears for any indication of what lay ahead. The faint sound of water lapping against stone intermingled with a tiny plipping of condensed droplets falling from the arched ceiling.
Still feeling a little restless, the ginger-haired revolutionary noticed a steady rhythm of these drops coming from somewhere off their starboard side up ahead. Acting on training practically drilled into her now, she raised a hand palm out, concentrating on the proper movements. When she judged the time right Koala pushed out, murmuring "Uchimizu," as she did, to be rewarded with a break in the dripping accompanied by a faint cracking of stone.
Now wearing a sunny grin, the girl turned back to her cohort. "How was that?"
"Hmph." Fishman Karate master Hack delivered a menacing scowl her way but nodded his shaggy head in approval. That frightful face he always wore held no threat for her. She had long ago learned not to judge by appearances. "Your form has improved. I'm glad to see it. But you still had to think too much. Karate must come as an ingrained response."
"Sorry." Koala accepted her teacher's instruction with a nod. Behind them the gondolier Cocoa merely looked between them questioningly before giving a shrug, unfamiliar with the subtleties of underwater martial arts. He was bundled up in a heavy cloak to ward off the chill, complete with a scarf and floppy hat that kept falling over his eyes, forcing him to adjust the broad brim until the next time it inevitably flopped down again. Nonetheless their pilot kept a steady grip on the oar and maneuvered these channels with nary a pause.
As they continued on their way through the dank tunnels Koala inspected the subterranean stonework curiously. She had heard tales of the grand canal system that crisscrossed the city of Vanish, but up until now it had never occurred to her how extensive this network really was. The canals that served as arteries of travel up above branched off in some places to form these underwater tributaries. Apparently many homes actually had entrances below street level. This type of setup favored illicit activities, whether it be paying a call on a lady late at night or engaging in a bit of smuggling. As a result Vanish boasted a rather sordid reputation. You could get away with a lot here that would arouse suspicion on any other island. Hence its moniker: 'The Vanishing City'. Not a very creative name, but things and even people did go missing here.
For this reason also it was a major stop in the black market trade. The World Government and the Marines practically turned a blind eye to this city's dealings. Only if you didn't pay off the right people would you need to worry about any authorities. Otherwise goods and information could be bought or sold with little chance you might run afoul of the law. Which was precisely what had drawn the two of them here today.
At last their tiny light brought into view a small stone jetty mere moments before the hull bumped up against it. "Here we are," Cocoa chuckled as he tied up his craft to a wooden post. "Didn't I tell you? These waterways hold no secrets for me, by gum." Both passengers disembarked. As Hack turned to face him their hired help ducked his head and held out a hand. "My payment, then?"
They could hear the sly grin to his words. In response Hack removed a wad of Belli from his gi. Towering over the man, he promptly split the cash and held out half.
"What's this, then?"
"Half now, the rest when you return us safely to the rendezvous point." As Cocoa seemed ready to sputter a response Hack handed the remaining bills back to Koala, who took it and tucked the money safely under her big cap. "If she returns alone, you are to proceed without me. I can make my own escape through the canals now that you have shown me the way. My friend will see that you are paid once she is safe. Not before."
Koala popped from around his broad back with a wink and a smile. "I'm in your hands, Cocoa-san! Take good care of me!"
About to protest, the ferryman halted on seeing her big soulful eyes sparkling with youthful charm. Cocoa ducked his hat once more to hide beneath its brim, twisting the oar between his gloved hands abashedly. With a muffled oath he snatched his remaining recompense up and flopped down on the boat's bench. "Be quick about it, then. The Don isn't stupid, his men check this dock regularly. Do your business and let's get going, dag nabbit!"
Koala blew him a kiss before departing. Moments later the two members of the Revolutionary Army were climbing a long winding flight of stone stairs lit by torches. Their chosen profession was precisely what called for such subterfuge. Even amongst this city of thieves, known revolutionaries could not walk unmolested. The black market was not keen on sheltering those who might potentially disrupt their working arrangement with the World Government's representatives. At least not normally. Even the underworld had its hierarchy. And there were some so high up as to be nigh untouchable.
"Koala."
She paused in her ascent. A few steps above her Hack had halted and looked back. His face hadn't changed its usual scowl; only now a certain measure of trepidation was evident in his body language. It made her feel sorry for him even as he asked, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
"There's no one better suited, is there? I understand the mindset of people like the Don." Here the former slave grinned unreservedly. "And it's not like we can dress you up in a skirt for this mission, right, sensei?"
At seeing her fresh-faced resolve an actual smile exposed the fishman fighter's sharp teeth. "No. I do not have the legs for it."
She giggled and flashed a black stocking-clad thigh before moving briskly past. "But between you and me, even if things go south, I wouldn't mind the chance to knock some heads a bit."
"Should it come to that," the big fighter responded with ambivalence as he rejoined her. "But keep any aggression to a minimum. We don't want to cut off a head of the underworld right now."
His trainee followed along. Since their first meeting Koala had taken a liking to the Ninety Dan Karate black belt. No surprise. She was most comfortable around fishmen. Fisher Tiger and his crew were the first to ever make her understand how real people treated one another. It was a painful wakeup call, and she had the Sun Pirates' brand to prove it. But no less welcome for that brief pain. Up until then the freed slave viewed everyone around her as a lethal threat waiting to kill her if she showed even a hint of disobedience or failed to apologize sufficiently. That was perhaps the biggest surprise she got from sailing with the Sun Pirates, even greater than the recognition of her own worth; Tiger didn't kill anyone, no matter how deserving of punishment their enemies might have been. His example served as a reminder for the other fishmen. They were not like the humans; they were not like the Tenryūbito. Who would have imagined a gang of pirates might instruct anyone on the sanctity of life?
Following Tiger's death and her subsequent enlisting in the Revolutionary Army, Koala took his lesson to heart. No matter how strong or good at Fishman Karate she might become, one principle would always remain very clear. She was a fighter, not an executioner. She did not decide when anyone died like some kind of god. Or a Dragon.
It was good to remember that now. Considering the person they were going to meet, that conviction might be put to the test.
Light and noise blossomed up above along with a profusion of mouth-watering aromas. The stairwell ended at what turned out to be a kitchen, where cooks in white and waiters in black scuttled back and forth bearing gold-plated dishes. Fires raged on stoves, ingredients emerged from coolers to be diced and minced, and in this confusion, no one noticed another white-garbed individual, no matter how big he was. Koala simply trailed along in Hack's rather large shadow, and no one paid them any mind.
Within moments, they had reached the casino floor.
The noise and heat of the kitchen was now replaced with a frenzy of a different sort. Unrestrained avarice and luxury were close cousins, in addition to being two guests never found absent at Trumpet Casino. This gambling den was the crown jewel of Trumpet Tower, the tallest half-completed structure in the world. Diamond chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting their ecumenical radiance over the surroundings. A host of unusual potted plants lent the air savor while exotic animals swung from branch to branch or swam to the delight of watching patrons. Wealthy people from all over the globe chose to compete with one another here in both games of chance and displaying wealth, seeing who could outdo them all in terms of sheer extravagance. The spin of wheels and clatter of dice accompanied great shouts expressing either encouragement or bereavement. Colorful chips flowed freely in place of cash while beautiful hostesses wearing skimpy costumes and feathered headdresses moved amidst the crowd bearing whatever their guests might need. A thief would have considered this place to be paradise.
As if to gainsay such hopes, armed guards stood prominently on display around the floor. Powerfully built men in skintight black uniforms, they all boasted closed metal helms with pointed noses and slit visors that allowed nothing of their faces to be seen. Silver gauntlets grasped the handles of rapiers sheathed at their sides. If a disturbance occurred these guardians were quick to respond, efficiently and even ruthlessly subduing any patrons who had strayed beyond the bounds of propriety.
Into this cavalcade of colors and cravings the two agents of chaos made their entrance. Koala scanned the floor curiously. In accepting this assignment she had known there would be no small amount of personal peril. Any mission undertaken at Dragon's express bidding was bound to be important. At only fifteen years old, she was proud to be counted highly amongst their forces. However, not all dangers existed without. Old memories could be as sharp as any sword, and cut far deeper. There was something about so many entitled plutocrats flinging around their wealth and privilege that struck a nerve with her. It wouldn't take much to imagine all this laughter with a cruel edge to it, that plush red carpet being soaked in gore, and the guards ready at a moment's notice to engage in vicious bloodsport at their masters' behest. The lessons of the Tenryūbito were carved deep into their victims. Those who had endured even a week in their service could count on nightmares for the rest of their lives.
But lesser versions of such beasts existed amongst the strata of human society as well. Drunk on their own vanity, they allowed themselves to aspire to ever greater heights of self-indulgence, without regard for what it might cost others or, for that matter, themselves. Could they really fathom the extent of the damage they caused in their endless competition with everyone they met? Well, if not, people like her were more than willing to express their outrage. Koala had resolved to strike out against a world that either encouraged or ignored evil. Her talent for Fishman Karate was only one weapon in her arsenal. And tonight she would employ any means to achieve their objective.
The doe-eyed teen touched her partner's arm to get his attention. "He'll be expecting us soon."
Hack looked around this gambler's mecca without interest. "The intel said he's usually in the Fountain Room at this time of night."
"We should confirm where that is." Peering about, she spotted a maid standing off to one side of the casino floor and moved to approach her. "Excuse me?"
The woman turned her head. And before she knew it, Koala had dropped into a defensive stance.
Maybe it was all the other girls dressed according to odd fetishes. That was the excuse Koala formed as to why she hadn't noticed this maid's apparel. Specifically, in addition to her black skirt, white cap and apron, she was covered in weapons. A row of throwing stars were strapped to her bare thighs above which a samurai katana swung in its sheathe. Matching pistols flanked her hips, and what looked to be a sniper rifle was strapped to her shoulders along with a huge bazooka. Wavy black hair fell to the small of her back. She appeared no older than Koala, around fifteen, but a cigarette was clenched between her teeth. Dressed for the part of a maid without a doubt; yet those eyes held not an ounce of subservience. They focused on Koala with a level of hostility that was by no means feigned. Hence her reaction.
This walking arsenal removed her cigarette to blow out a stream of smoke. "What do you want?"
Her rudeness wasn't helping matters. Still, Koala got control of her fighting impulses before she could introduce a palm to this girl's chin. "Sorry, but… do you work here?"
A flicker of disdain passed over that beautiful face. "Do I look like I work here, kid?"
Koala smiled in a way that belied her swift-growing wrath. She was good at that. "I'm sorry if I upset you. My friend and I were just looking for someone."
The maid took another drag on her cigarette. "You say 'sorry' a lot, you know that?"
"And you ask a lot of questions, ma'am."
That last got the feather-duster's attention real quick. She spat out her cigarette and rounded on Koala. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"Why, don't you?"
It was hard to say which of them was more angry, but the other girl's teeth were bared in a savage snarl while the cheerful rebel went right on flashing her all-purpose smile. Inside, however, she was preparing to knock a few of those tobacco-sucking incisors out.
A hand came down on her shoulder. "That's enough." Hack now stood beside her with his own never-fail scowl at the ready. A slight squeeze let Koala know to cool it, which she complied with reluctantly. To Miss Manners he inclined his head in respectful fashion. "Please forgive my colleague. She meant no offense, miss."
Scrub-n-Shine just glared up at him while relighting another cigarette. She took a deep drag and blew out the smoke ring right in Hack's face. When he made no response a smirk twisted those mean lips. "Good timing. Your little friend was about to get spanked hard."
An instinctive lunge forward was met with further restraint to Koala's shoulder. The punchy partisan subsided as her better side won over. Remember the mission. If we do have to run for it later there might be time to sock this loudmouth out in passing. Until then, keep it in check.
"Again, my apologies," her trainer sketched a small bow. "We simply wanted to know if you could direct us to the Fountain Room."
At this the cigarette fell from the maid's lips.
Eyes widened…
Cheeks flushed…
And without further ado she shouted, "YES!"
Koala and Hack jerked away in surprise. All overt belligerence had vanished. Now standing before them was a blushing, giddy, wiggly schoolgirl twisting from one high-heeled toe to another and casting adoring looks up at the tall fishman at least thrice her age. In all her years as his pupil Koala could honestly say she had never seen that ardent revolutionary look so shaken as he did now. It was like he was facing down a firing squad. And that put her in a much better mood.
Before either of them could respond the glowing maid turned about and beckoned forward. "R-right this way! I'll take you wherever you w-w-want to go!"
Their newly helpful guide trotted away, casting surreptitious glances over her bazooka. After a second Koala recovered enough to elbow Hack in the ribs. He gave a shiver and looked down at her, his face never losing that pained look of being caught in a bear trap. This she ignored and indicated with her head that they should follow.
It took under two minutes for them to reach the Fountain Room, so named for its wading pools decorated with any manner of statues from fish to mermen to beasts of legend, all spewing water for guests to observe or play in. And in that short period, the maid must have cast about a hundred looks of heartfelt longing back at Hack. Which, for the record, made Koala want to burst out laughing. Only consideration for her master's dignity prevented the girl from enjoying a good chuckle at his expense.
She had tears in her eyes by the time they reached their destination. Despite this it quickly became apparent the besotted maid was not about to leave it at that. When Hack thanked her for services rendered, she went three different shades of crimson, flat out refusing to treat this as the dismissal it was clearly meant to be. As such they were forced to endure this perplexing shadow gliding along at their backs as the pair proceeded on.
It was no trouble locating their erstwhile host by now. They just had to follow all the noise and laughter. This led to one of the largest fountains, whose fifty-foot centerpiece was sculpted to resemble a muscular naked oceanic god wielding a trident and some frankly bizarre hair. The inspiration for this monument could be found at its base.
Soaking his feet in a Jacuzzi surrounded by bikini-clad beauties, underworld boss Don Trumpet laughed and enthusiastically quaffed martinis served to him by a bravely smiling mermaid. The unofficial head of Vanish bore little resemblance to the statuesque specimen soaring behind him with water pouring out of its… piping. He was perhaps five feet tall and clearly not accustomed to strenuous activities. Dressed in a neon green speedo with golden chains looped around his fleshy neck, the Don's hairy belly hung down in a clearly unintended act of modesty, this being the only thing preventing them from getting a sneak peek. On his plump pink face there wiggled a pointed little moustache that looked like two swords sticking out over his mouth. Clear blue eyes were nearly enveloped in cradles of doughy fat. And to top it off, the most striking characteristic of this absurd spectacle, there was the hair. If any barber had touched that stuff in the last twenty years, it hadn't been a very long job. Assuming it was real. Striking gold locks were piled up high on his head like a huge egg yolk that wobbled with every move he made. At the front it extended far out past his nose pompadour style to end in a mighty spit curl so twisted you could open wine bottles with it. A recreation of this selfsame hairstyle topped the statue overhead. The Don's image was not improved by the comparison. To say nothing of the fact it reminded her of those ghastly hairdos favored by the Celestial Dragons. Wannabe, she thought privately.
Two of the helmeted guards stood to either side of their master, who was addressing another petitioner on the lip of the pool before him. "Humph-humph-humph-humph-humph!" Don Trumpet burbled merrily. "Ah, my old friend. As if I would ever intentionally offend a representative of your illustrious family! But what need could you possibly have for this information? Your fortunes were already made two years past."
The person he spoke to was a shrunken old man with a wrinkled face that looked to be caving in on itself, a fact which clearly did not please its owner judging by the vicious frown he bore framed by white moustache and beard. His eyes were sunk so deep into their sockets as to be invisible, leaving only two harrowing black pits. To top it off this peculiar figure was dressed in a leotard with odd patterns running up and down it and a speedo on top of that. His pants were held up by a belt with the letter 'G' engraved on the buckle. Gloves encased his fingers, boots his feet, and a funny little cap with pointed ears crowned his head. Bandy-limbed arms and legs stood in counterpoint to a protruding belly reminiscent of the Don's. He resembled a professional wrestler well past his prime.
"I disaGree," this comical centenarian spoke. "The matter you refer to would be of Great interest to a Great many people, my own company included... G!"
As he spoke the old man raised both arms with elbows bent before him, almost like he was shaping the letter with his body. In doing so he seemingly took notice of the two revolutionaries that had just drawn up by the bubble bath. Hidden eyes did not linger long on them, instead fastening on the maid who continued to trail beside Hack. Veins pulsed in his face, and he let his arms drop. "Baby 5," the withered warrior growled. "I distinctly told you to remain outside!"
"But Lao!" their amorous escort moaned, looking anxiously between him and the still visibly distraught fishman. "He… needed me!"
"Oh-ho, what's this!" the Don declared, rising up to upend the playmate currently sitting on his lap. A greasy tongue snaked out over his lips as he eyed the scantily dressed maidservant. "Lao G, you old dog! Why would you not wish this delectable maiden to enjoy my company, eh?" To the girl he spoke. "As for you, luscious young thing, why not strip down and join us in the pool, hmmm?"
In a flash the bitch was back. Baby 5 (what kind of name was that, Koala thought?) spun to fix Don Trumpet with a look of venomous rage that put her previous efforts to shame. "You want to get wasted, fat man? The only thing that would get me into that pool is so I can drown you in it!"
The two guardsmen reacted immediately, drawing their blades to stand defensively bestride the Don. Their employer, however, merely laughed and waved a negligent hand. "No harm, no harm," he chided his dedicated soldiers. "We're all free to comport ourselves according to our desires here in Trumpet Casino. The young lady simply has a sharp tongue, nothing more." His smile dipped a fraction however, and the moustache twitched. "After all, she knows the penalty for taking direct action against me. And if not, you do, Lao G."
Lao nodded in response before turning a glare on his associate. Observing this, Koala recalculated her previous estimation of this night's peril. That name set off a warning bell in her head. She didn't know him by sight, but if memory served, this goofy-looking old timer was an executive in the Donquixote Pirate Family, whose captain happened to be a Shichibukai, a Warlord of the Sea. To say nothing of the fact that two years ago the Family had swooped in to conquer the kingdom of Dressrosa in a single night. Now their 'young master' ruled that nation with impunity. Rumors abounded, but none of their agents had returned from attempts at investigating the goings-on perpetrated throughout that once peaceful island.
Just as impressive was the fact that such a high-ranking pirate now immune to prosecution by the government would defer to the wishes of the Don. It was widely known amongst certain circles that Don Trumpet ranked high on the list of acquaintances for some very important people. He had more than a few judges, kings, and even an Admiral in his pocket if one could believe the rumors. The Revolutionary Army dealt with him on rare occasions, primarily because they did not want to provoke any repercussions that would come from ignoring him altogether. Even her old masters the Tenryūbito deigned to do business with him, which more than anything earned that fat pervert her contempt.
The revolution couldn't come fast enough in Koala's opinion. People like this did not deserve to lord it over anybody. Still, she had to remind herself again this was not a Celestial Dragon she was dealing with. If it were, they would have already been ordered to fight each other to the death just to gain an audience. Whatever his failings, the Don wasn't that noxious.
It also meant that Baby 5 was another member of the Family. Lucky for her nothing serious had taken place between them. Dragon hadn't sent them here to start an all-out war, but to see if the Don's influence really extended as far as he now claimed. It was time to get to work.
"Ah, but it seems we must curtail our discussion, old friend," Don Trumpet clucked his tongue sagaciously. "I have another interested party here looking to bend my ear. Please enjoy my hospitality until a later time." As he spoke the bulbous gangster's eyes drifted over to Baby 5 once more, and he smirked. "Before you go, my dear, I don't suppose you could fill this up for me?" He waved his empty martini glass at her with a snicker.
"OF COURSE!"
Oddly enough the Don looked more taken aback by this about-face reaction than Hack had been. He blinked in consternation as the swooning weapon girl regarded him seemingly out of nowhere with that same lovesick vapid expression from before. Even the guards didn't seem to know how to react. She dove forward and eagerly snatched up the glass, almost overbalancing to fall into the pool were it not for Lao G catching her by an elbow. The elder pirate stomped angrily off then, dragging his comrade with him. "But he needs me!" they all heard Baby 5 proclaim.
"NO HE DOESN'T!" Lao's response snapped back.
After they were gone, the Don recovered enough to turn his sights on the new supplicants. True to form, it was Koala who first caught his eye. With her frilly blouse and short skirt the bob-haired beauty now took up all the crime boss' attention. "What about you, little miss? Care to take a dip with all the other catches in my stocked pond?"
"Even if you caught me, you'd have to throw me back," she responded with a wink. "You might say I'm… below the legal limit."
"Well, well…" The way he stroked his chin then let her know he had taken the bait. "And are you enjoying yourselves so far, my reckless revolutionaries?"
"Don Trumpet, thank you for agreeing to meet with us," Hack acknowledged the leering lothario with a curt nod.
"Not at all. I always say as long as you have a single Belli to your name, everyone is welcome in my domain! I wouldn't deny two hard-working souls the benefit of bidding on a secret of such value simply because they might have skirted the law a few times."
During this speech the Don never took his eyes off Koala, who stood with hands behind her back and one leg crooked at the knee to give him a better view. The smile she wore was as innocent as butterflies fluttering across a field of flowers. And already it produced results. He had gotten right to the heart of the matter without preamble. Koala seized on this. "Don Trumpet, I've heard rumors about you…"
"Oh, indeed?" His blue button eyes widened, while the moustache twitched from side to side. "Which of them do you find most fantastical, I wonder?"
"Well, I don't know." Here she cocked her head and gave a whimsical moue. "They say you've been known to string people along. I might be a little hurt if I risked my life coming out here only to find you were just drawing customers into your casino with the old bait-and-switch."
"Humph-humph-humph! My dear, you are far too young to be so cynical!" Don Trumpet stood up. Immediately a female servant stood ready with a velvet bathrobe, which he allowed her to slide his arms into. Without bothering to knot it the lowlife came swaggering around the lip of the pool, his outrageous hairdo bobbing up and down in time. The bodyguards followed suit. "I assure you, my offer is entirely genuine. My own organization has made inquiries to confirm its validity. Why, it was in this very casino that a poor shipwright down on his luck at the gambling tables bartered the very information under discussion in exchange for a line of credit. Which of course I extended. Sadly, his fortunes did not change, and so more stringent steps were taken. Now I alone in all the world know where to find what you seek!"
He had come right up to her and now stood smirking smugly. The point of his toupee (she was almost positive now) wavered under the girl's chin. She couldn't resist. Koala reached up and twisted the corkscrew curl between her fingers, glad to be wearing gloves at the same time. She also took note of how the Don stiffened at this presumption, his pompous playfulness morphing into a look of distinct trepidation. Was he worried she might pull it off in front of everyone?
"If we had some time alone together before the other bidders made their pitch," she trilled mischievously, "I think I might tender an offer you couldn't refuse."
"Just the… two of us?" His eyes drifted over to where Hack still glowered, but in spite of his obvious discomfort he still didn't pull away. That told her a lot.
"My partner can wait outside, at a respectful distance. You can even keep your shiny toys." She indicated to the two men standing at attention behind him. "I won't mind." And with that Koala let go of his do.
Don Trumpet sagged in relief before swelling up again with self-importance. "Humph! Why not, then? There's still time before the official start of bidding. You've certainly piqued my interest, sweetie pie!"
So saying, he strutted off. One of the trailing knight guards intoned, "Follow," before taking up step behind his master.
Koala and Hack did as they were commanded, maintaining a few steps behind the Don's party. As they walked she leaned in to mouth, "Too easy. Did you notice he never even asked for my name?"
Her instructor seemed distinctly less assured. "Don't let your guard down. Get the information and do it quickly. We'll use force only if it turns out our intel was wrong."
"Can do." The duo continued to traverse the casino floor. As they did, however, Koala took note of a very unfriendly set of eyes watching her every step. Standing by themselves in the midst of all the frivolity, Baby 5 and Lao G were clearly in no mood to party. Their expressions bespoke of intense animosity. A nudge to Hack's arm and a nod in that direction got him clued in to their competition. Something told her they had not heard the last of those two.
A trip up a glittering flight of stairs ended at two giant ornately carved red doors. The entrance to the Don's private refuge. A dozen more helmeted knights flanked these portals, and it was here their pudgy target paused to look back at them. "Give me a moment to freshen up, my sweet," he purred. The guards pushed open the doors revealing a long hallway lined with expensive vases and paintings. Don Trumpet murmured something to one of the group standing at attention before entering with his pair of knights. With a final, "Humph-humph-humph!" he made his way down to another set of doors that slid shut behind him.
Koala waited patiently. Those guards were just for show, she knew that. The Don relied on his prestige in the underworld to keep anyone from messing with him. But he had overplayed his hand this time. There were people willing to slit their own children's throats in order to seize an opportunity like this. Some upjumped swindler wouldn't even register for their consideration no matter how many bribes he paid. She would make that clear to him before leaving. If Trumpet had a lick of sense, he would declare this whole night was a joke to his invited patrons and laugh it off. Even if someone did force the info out of him afterwards, by then the Revolutionary Army would be well ahead of them in securing the prize.
After about two minutes the knight previously spoken to stepped forward. "You may enter," he spoke to Koala. "Your friend will remain outside. Wait to be granted permission to enter the Don's chambers."
A nod to her sensei, and then Koala passed through the open portico. Moments later they had closed with a firm thump, leaving her standing alone in the dimly lit hallway. Taking a deep breath, the Karate student began to limber up her arms and shoulders as she walked towards her destination.
Koala paused at the entrance to the inner sanctum. She could handle the two guards easily enough. Start with a leg sweep, then aim for the sensitive spots. Just had to make sure not to go too far. Don Trumpet might be counted their enemy after tonight, or he might thank his lucky stars that someone had been willing to knock some sense into his head. Koala was just the girl for the job. She had a pretty good idea where the information was hidden now; probably the most secure place the crime boss could imagine, where nobody would dare to touch it. Time to teach him a lesson; nothing was off limits to her.
Another twenty seconds passed. Nothing. She frowned, clenching her fists in anxiety. Could he be aware of her intent? Was she about to walk into a trap? Might there be more at work here than they were led to believe? Even so, be ready for anything.
Warily Koala crept to the green door and put her ear against it. She listened. No sound, at least not…
Wait! What was that? It sounded like…
Sobs.
No more hesitation. Kicking open the door, Koala dove swiftly inside. Upon rolling upright the first thing she noticed was a body.
It belonged to one of the knights, his limbs twisted with no more resistance than a wet beanbag. The sword had never even left its sheathe. Several paces off another corpse sprawled, this being the first man's partner, whose back was bent in a way no human could survive. As if to assure this his weapon had been driven through his heart, impaling him to the wooden floor. This room seemed to be a study, with books lining one wall along with a crackling fire in the fireplace. Great bay windows offered a glimpse of the night sky and Vanish below them. In addition to this, there was one other person in the room she hadn't expected to see.
He was dressed in the same skintight uniform and silver closed helm as the two dead bodyguards, crouched atop a large mahogany desk behind which sat the Don still wearing his bathrobe. One metal glove was extended out at arm's length to end with two fingers driven deep into Trumpet's shoulder. Blood flowed from here along with several other places around his torso, and the plump pervert gave a pitiful moan of pain as those cruel fingers twisted in the wound.
"It's true… I swear! Please…" Don Trumpet's voice was high-pitched from pain, tears running down his red cheeks and sobs causing that pendulous toupee to heave. All at once he noticed Koala staring at him in horror from across the room. At that moment the adult turned his head and whined in the most childish voice she had ever heard, "Help me-e-e-e!"
Before she could respond the attacker extracted his digits. At the same time he spun on one heel, his other leg whipping out to deliver a sharp crack to the fat man's chin. The chair spun round and around until the false knight reached out a hand to stop it. At first Koala thought Don Trumpet's wig had been knocked backwards. Then she realized… it wasn't just the golden mop. His whole head was rotated 180 degrees from its natural position. The untouchable Don sagged in his leather armchair, neck broken and just as obviously dead.
Shock at this heartless murder left Koala momentarily stunned. As such she could only watch as the assassin reached out to snatch the wobbly toupee off his victim's scalp. Reaching in, he extracted a white piece of paper which was held up before that dark slit visor for examination.
Reality came back in a flash. That was it! Just where she thought it would be! And now Koala was fully aware. With a cry of, "HEY!" she dove forward even as a sound of splintering wood from behind came to her ears.
The knight-assassin vaulted off the table. With inhuman speed she saw him cross the room and fling the scrap of paper into the fire, yanking loose the sword from the second guard's chest as he did. Koala was in hot pursuit as the killer then zipped over and flung open a window, glancing behind him only for a moment to confirm her pursuit before leaping into the darkness.
As she reached the sill she heard a voice behind her shout, "KOALA!" Tears in her eyes, she turned to see Hack rushing into the room.
"HE KILLED THE DON!" the girl cried, voice breaking with rage. "I'M GOING AFTER HIM!" So saying she sprang after the murderer without another word of explanation.
About to follow, Hack spun about at the sound of trooping feet. More knight guards like the ones he had bested to get in here were pouring down the corridor. Assuming a martial artist's stance, he drew a deep breath and let it out, feeling the water all around the room that was his chosen weapon. A Ninety Dan Master had nothing to fear from the likes of these.
Abruptly the soldiers froze. Then slowly they parted to both sides, weapons still at the ready but not proceeding forward.
Hack tensed. Down this lane of lowlifes there came striding Lao G, mouth set in a grimace and rubber band legs swishing together. The pirate drew to a halt upon entering the room fully. His black sockets locked firmly on the fishman fighter without seeming to register anything else present.
"The time for Games is over, boy," the executive of the Donquixote Family growled. Then he stood on one leg and raised his arms in a familiar pattern. "G!"
Well away from this confrontation, Koala continued to trail her speeding quarry. Under the full moon she soared from rooftop to rooftop while never losing sight of the assassin. Trumpet Tower dominated the skyline of Vanish, but it was actually composed of many shorter buildings all clustered around the central spire at different heights. Across these rooftops they danced, racing from one level to another like a circular staircase. It was more than a mission now. This was personal!
He begged for his life. He begged for his life and the bastard still killed him! Like so many other people she had known. WHY?! What did it matter how gross and twisted a person might appear to you? They didn't deserve that!
The night air was cool against her skin. It had rained recently. Clouds skidded overhead, and the Vanishing City practically ran on water. Which meant she had all the ammunition she needed. In testament to this the determined guerrilla scooped a hand along a gutter, coming up with a few droplets. She promptly leapt into the air and shouted, "UCHIMIZU!"
Her arm shot out and water sped through the air with the force and velocity of a bullet. Perhaps informed by her cry, the killer knight left off sprinting down a rooftop and sprang to one side moments before the liquid projectiles impacted with where he had been headed, splitting a brick chimney to send red shards and dust cascading towards the pavement far below.
He landed atop the pitched roof of a building whose open windows emitted faint clouds of steam. A sauna, maybe, or another kitchen. When the assassin rose up it was to find Koala doing the same not twenty paces off. The two of them faced one another on the very peak of those gables, balancing like gymnasts on a beam event. Apparently her projectile capabilities convinced him to forego running in favor of assault. That suited Koala just fine.
Steam floated all around her. The apprentice fighter watched her opponent. Moonlight glinted off his helm and gloves. He had withdrawn his other sword and now held both in an unusual underhand style with the tips pointed down and edges turned out towards her. One of the first rules in martial arts was ridding yourself of the otherwise rational notion that weapons determined who would emerge victorious. As she had been taught, it was the person holding the sword who decided its effectiveness. An unskilled opponent was no match for a Fishman Karate practitioner. With talent and training behind that blade, however, its true peril became evident. Judging by what she had seen, this man knew precisely how to use those blades. In the worst possible way.
Her breathing was under control, but Koala's heart still pounded ferociously. She almost didn't recognize her own voice when she spat, "What did the Don tell you?"
Before she could even finish that sentence he had closed the distance between them. A saber licked out to cleave her at the waist. Had she not seen him move with that infernal level of speed before it might have caught her off guard. Instead Koala vaulted backwards, somersaulting along the roof's peak. The sound of his footwork as he followed was a staccato so fast it blurred into a single sharp noise punctuated by the swish of his slashing blades.
Nitenichi-Ryu, she thought while flipping. Two-sword style. She had been trained to fight against this if necessary. Any school of Karate derived from facing armed opponents. The trick was to move in close, below their center of gravity where their own reach worked against them. Swords lost any threat when you were right below the wielder, upon which a palm-thrust to the chin could knock them out.
But the fact that he used an underhand style made this impossible. It was fundamentally a close-combat method of swordsmanship. Even crouched toe-to-toe she would be in range of their edge. However this also meant he could not fully exploit the length of his arms; thrusts and overhead attacks were not feasible with that style. Which meant he was at a disadvantage to shots from mid-range and above.
The moment her heel touched roof at the end of a successful backflip Koala crouched and sprang backwards with all her might. In doing so she just barely missed losing a foot. But this left her temporarily out of his range, hanging twenty feet above the roof. Hot steam rose all around; exactly what was needed.
Still in midair, the young fighter formed a fist and thrust straight out, driving her other arm back for added support.
"Karakusa-gawara Seiken!"
From her knuckles a shockwave traveled, visible only through the wavering mist. True masters had great range with this technique, allowing them to repel multiple enemies. In her case a single one would do.
The force of the attack shot towards its target. Unable to see this, the swordsman had crouched down, probably in readiness to spring forward as soon as she came back within range of his blades. He would never know what hit him.
Two swordpoints dug into tiles. Now grasping their handles like ski poles the killer knight whipped his leg up blazingly fast to the cry of, "Rankyaku!" Accompanying this shout came a long arc of green light that sped skyward to intercept her attack. To Koala's horror the blade of energy cut straight through her water-punch. She was forced to actually twist mid-fall to avoid the lagging end of this beam, causing her to land awkwardly. Her boot skidded on the wood and she fell, sliding partway down the roof before managing a desperate grab that hooked the bathhouse's peak.
She came to a halt, her head snapped up, and Koala's great black eyes widened upon seeing the enemy take aim before drawing back his other leg.
"Rankya-!"
A whistle of sound caused the crested helm to spin. He then jerked backwards, performing a somersault that yanked his blades loose just as three throwing stars shattered the clay near where he had stood. Koala took this time to hoist herself up and find her feet. Once more they faced one another atop that perch.
"Which of you killed the Don?"
Both heads turned to find Baby 5 maneuvering through a small window on Trumpet Tower. When her bazooka had cleared the maid took another long drag on her cigarette. Smoke rose lazily between her lips as narrowed eyes shifted between the two. For a time no one moved.
Then the pirate's chin lifted a fraction. "There's blood on your hands," she said, addressing the knight, whose gauntlet still glistened red. Baby 5 glanced over at Koala in appraisal. "But not yours."
Her cigarette sailed through the air to send sparks spattering up from the tiles. She regarded the silent killer once more. "Whatever you've got is mine. Give it to me and I'll make this quick."
He made no move, only continued to stand there with swords gripped at his sides. A wind was beginning to blow atop the gables, its bite cold and fierce. Koala felt a shiver go up her spine.
Without warning Baby 5 took off. Her skirt fluttered, and where once there had been a stiletto-heeled limb there was now…
"Bayonette Leg!"
A shot broke the air. The next thing Koala knew the adversaries had engaged in combat, twin swords whipping out to collide with edged weapons of all sorts. Baby 5 pivoted on a bladed rifle that made up one leg and swung a mace that seemed to be growing out of her arm! The knight-assassin dodged this. Both his blades then scissored together with a bloodthirsty whisper, an effort that would have decapitated the Weapons Girl twice over had she not ducked down, instead only losing the top barrel of the cannon she wore on her back. At this Baby 5 screamed in anger. She whipped her head around, curly black locks now transformed into barbed flails that forced him to draw back or be maimed. Maid and Knight spun and twirled around one another there on the rooftop. Mere inches separated them, and neither would give ground.
By now Koala had regained her sense of clarity. No matter what had taken place between them in the casino, the two women shared a mutual foe. This wasn't some hired goon they were fighting. It was a trained killer. If they stood a chance of taking him alive, their best hope was to work together.
So resolved the ardent revolutionary prepared to dash forward. It might seem crazy jumping into a cyclone swordfight like the one before her. The problem was the way they were dancing around, any long-distance attacks she sent had as much likelihood of striking Baby 5 as him. Which meant the only chance was to get in close and look for an opening to hit him with something major. And she had just the technique, a little number Koala had been working on in secret. Let's just hope it pans out.
Baby 5 was shouting with increasing frustration at her inability to catch this man. At the same time, her Devil Fruit ability kept the leggy warrior from sustaining any injuries. When he tried to get some distance between them the living arsenal followed immediately, unwilling to give him enough room to perform that 'Storm Leg' technique again. A pair of scythes now replaced her forearms, which she crossed to catch both incoming blades. But even as they clashed…
"Chakra Claws!"
She gave a twist of her forearms, and just like that the knight-assassin's sabers were squeezed between the opposing hoops of her Devil Fruit metal, preventing him from withdrawing them. For a moment they faced one another squarely, strength straining against strength. The passionate pirate seized this opportunity.
"Tun-Un!" This last came out a little garbled as her tongue turned into a pistol which she fired point blank at the fighter's pointed faceplate. Amazingly he managed to avoid it by twisting his neck at the last second so that the bullet simply ricocheted off his scalp. At the same time a black-clad leg moved, and instinctively the sultry maid transformed her own lower half into a giant trident for protection.
Instead his foot hooked on the butt of the beheaded bazooka Baby 5 wore on her back. A simple shove caused its heavy weight to shift. The sniper rifle took this opportunity to swing in the same direction, and suddenly the Weapons Girl was off balance, tottering on her admittedly ungainly support. Then with a yell she fell, her limbs returning to normal as she rolled down the angle of the roof.
There was no chance for the assassin to take advantage of this, for even as Baby 5 was just starting to fold over, Koala streaked in from behind her. Here goes nothing!
"Hyakuretsukyaku!"
It was a can-can, magnified by about a hundred and all done by just a single person's leg. The Hundred Rending Legs formed a blur in the air so it was impossible to distinguish one high kick from the next. They all seemed to be happening at once while Koala remained balanced on her other foot sending this Gatling gun of attacks towards the enemy's face.
"Kamie," a voice whispered, almost lost in the wind.
At first she didn't notice the lack of resistance. But as her homemade technique bore on, it suddenly hit Koala that… she wasn't hitting anything. After a few seconds the reason became obvious. The knight-assassin's torso had become a blur to match her own furiously striving footwork. Every time she attacked her heel simply passed through empty space which until right then had been occupied by his body. He twisted and swerved with the easy grace of a paper kite floating on the breeze.
"Rankyaku!"
An impulse of danger saw Koala doing the splits right on the triangular tip of the roof, arching her back and bending her knees at the same time. This was the only thing that prevented her from being bisected as another lethal green boomerang passed right overhead while she stared gasping at the sky.
This allowed her a perfect view of the killer knight as he stepped forward and brought both swords down to impale her against the tiles.
Koala drew in a breath that seemed to go on forever. Everything slowed down, and all she could see was Fisher Tiger holding the sun brand, a Tenryūbito grinning cruelly as he kicked her in the face, her mother weeping and begging that she stay home, Gyaro and Macro crying when she left the Sun Pirates' ship while they hugged a sobbing Tansui, who had happily demonstrated his simple Fishman Karate whenever she wanted, to her great delight. Words formed on her lips, the ones that seemed to sum up her whole wasted life.
"I'm sorry."
"You're a hundred years too soon!" Tansui's voice huffed proudly when she apologized after attempting to emulate him. "Gotta train until it's a part of you!"
Her body reacted.
Koala didn't think. Not when her arms came up to cross before her, nor when she felt the razor-sharp steel press against her palms, not even when she spoke.
"Samehada Shotei."
Dual palm strikes then hit against the flats of the blades, just enough that their attacks pierced the roof to either side of Koala's shoulders. The two of them were so close now she could hear the assassin's grunt of surprise as his blows went wide.
At that moment Baby 5 sprang up over them both, teeth clenched in fury and one outraised leg converted into a naginata.
"YOU JERK!" she screamed as the blade came slicing down, to which the killer knight responded…
"Tekkai!"
There came a clang. The blade of the naginata had connected right at the murderer's elbow. And there it stopped. No blood. No screams. He remained crouched there solid and unmoving as a block of iron.
Had she been in any right state of mind, Koala would have been as shocked as the female pirate at this inhuman durability. But her conscious brain was still taking a backseat to something else. And so the entranced girl did not hesitate an instant to snap up and say, "Senmeiwagara Seiken!" while delivering a punch directly to the assassin's solar plexus.
Muscles sent a command to which water responded. A choked gurgle sounded, metal scraped across suddenly yielding flesh, and then the knight-assassin was skidding backwards, heels digging through the rooftop to come to rest on one knee atop the beam. He gave a shudder, but otherwise did not move.
Koala blinked, coming back to herself. When she looked around it was to find Baby 5 standing beside her while their enemy hunched over several dozen feet away.
Blood was now running down one arm of the knight's uniform from where the Weapons Girl had successfully slashed him. The silver helm rose. Unseen eyes studied the ladies standing across the way, seeming to reach a decision. His head turned ever so slightly to one side in consideration of their surroundings.
"Napalm Lung!"
The bottom of Baby 5's face had transformed into a barrel from which white-hot flames now spewed forth. They caught on the building adjacent, and incredibly, the fire-hardened tiles took light with a roar. One could hear clay cracking as the blazing inferno swept high overhead. A twist of her neck and the crown of the tower to their other side became engulfed in a furnace of smoke and heat which no one could hope to survive.
Now trapped between sheets of hellfire, the three stood. The only thing at their rear was the exterior of Trumpet Tower's main spire, while behind the assassin loomed empty space, backed by the lights of Vanish twinkling far, far below them.
"You're next," Baby 5 promised their foe darkly. "Give up now or cook."
The killer appeared to be mulling this over. Wincing, he came upright to balance atop the beam, heel to toe. His arms slowly rose out to either side. And then, to their surprise, he bowed to them both. As he did so, his hands opened, and the swords dropped to the roof with a clang.
Abruptly the knight-assassin spun around and took off running. His limbs pumped faster than a turbine, smashing the very slate beneath his feet, and before either girl could move to prevent it…
…he had leaped off the roof.
Baby 5 and Koala reached the edge at the same time. Far out they each saw a tiny figure with arms flung wide, legs bent and head thrown back. Baby 5 screamed and aimed a sniper rifle arm at his dwindling form to no avail. In moments he was lost to the pull of gravity straight towards those unforgiving stone streets far below.
Feeling suddenly exhausted, Koala slumped to her knees. The wind had stopped blowing. Looking out from so high up over the glittering city caused her to experience a wave of vertigo which she resolutely fought down. Nearby the Donquixote Pirate crewmate had withdrawn a baby Den Den Mushi and was speaking into it.
"Lao G? It's me."
The snail's face assumed certain familiar features. "Baby 5, what is your status?"
Her teeth ground, and she shot a venomous look at Koala kneeling by her side before turning away. "The deal's off. I almost had the guy, but he committed suicide. There's nothing left to go on."
"I see," the old man grumbled. "Well, I have already informed Joker of recent events. We are being recalled. Blame has been allocated in this affair. Meet me inside."
"Over and out."
When Baby 5 turned around, it was to find herself alone.
Cocoa jumped in his seat when Koala came tearing down the stairs to leap into the boat. Without any questions he untied them and poled out to the middle of the canal. The gondolier cast anxious looks over his shoulder as he rowed with the current. After a while when it seemed no one was giving chase, he finally relaxed.
"Well, fiddlesticks, missy," the boatman chuckled. "Looks like you had yourself a right to-do! Hope it was worth it, by gum."
She didn't respond, only stayed hunkered in the bottom of the boat. After a while Cocoa just shrugged and went about his business. He tried to whistle a jaunty tune, but when his cargo still didn't respond even this eventually died out. They kept going in silence, the lap of water the only accompaniment on their journey.
When they were well away, however, Koala stirred and her head turned slightly. "Cocoa-san?"
He gave a little start. "Err… yes?"
She hesitated before speaking again. "Have you ever met anyone prepared to die?"
For a bit the oar went still, allowing them to drift with the current. He stared at her in obvious bewilderment. "Ummm… missy… everybody dies, y'know? Nothing you can do about it."
Beneath that baggy cap her head dropped down. "I'm sorry… that wasn't what I wanted to ask. What I meant to say was… have you ever met someone you felt deserved to die?"
Again he inspected her, before turning his head to study the wall. "Can't say that I have." He then resumed rowing.
"Oh." After a bit Koala turned and smiled at him. "You're a pretty nice guy, Cocoa-san."
"Well, shucks," he twisted the oar in embarrassment and coughed. "You seem alright yourself, young'un."
She gave a laugh and turned back about. Nothing was said for the rest of the trip. Twenty minutes later they arrived at another landing with a tunnel leading from it. Cocoa hitched up the boat and Koala stepped ashore. Without waiting to be asked she turned and doffed her hat, removing the remainder of his fee and holding it out. "Here you go. As promised."
"Another day, another dollar." He accepted the bundle of cash, removing his floppy chapeau to drop it in with the other half.
"Hey!" Koala exclaimed in sudden delight. "What's with all this 'missy' stuff? You're no older than I am!"
The gondolier looked up and blinked round childish eyes before ducking his head to rub a hand over rusty hair. His cheeks flushed and an odd rectangular-shaped nose sniffed. "Heh… well… nothing much to it, whippersnapper… it's just the way I daggum talk."
In spite of everything she had gone through tonight the girl found herself grinning. She then extended out a hand. "Thanks for all your help, Cocoa-san."
He looked at her for a second before smiling heartily. "You're most welcome." They clasped gloves then. "Take care, missy."
Waving goodbye, Koala entered the tunnel. She walked for about a minute in the dark before coming upon a row of steps set into a wall. This the clandestine agent climbed to reach a grate which she lifted up. Peering over the lip, she determined for herself that no one was about before exiting the passage to find herself in a secluded dock. Their boat lay at anchor, and so Koala settled in on a piling to wait. Thinking back, things could have been worse. She'd come out alive at least. And something told her that fight had been a massive leap forward in terms of her development in Fishman Karate. Gotta look on the sunny side.
After about ten minutes a ripple passed from the direction of a grate half-submerged in the far wall. Then a hand rose over the lip of the dock, and Hack pulled himself ashore.
"Hah!" Koala exclaimed in relief as she rushed over to him. "You made it!"
"Somewhat worse for wear," her mentor groused as he rose dripping to his full height. This statement was borne out by a black eye and several bruises to his face and torso which hadn't been there before. In addition he seemed to be favoring his right leg.
"What took you so long?" she asked.
Hack made a face. "Once I escaped from my pursuers I lingered to try and determine what the situation might be and make sure you had escaped. From what I overheard, it seems we are being blamed for Don Trumpet's murder. Our identities as representatives of the Revolutionary Army are now common knowledge. I fear Dragon will not be pleased at this turn of events. Our reputation will surely suffer." He then took a closer look at Koala, noting a certain paleness to her face. "Were you able to apprehend the true malefactor?"
A rueful shake of her head told the story. "I fought him alongside that Baby 5 nut, but when it looked like we might be gaining the upper hand, he killed himself."
Hack crossed his arms to close his eyes in thought. "Perhaps this is for the best. We can only hope the secret died with the Don. Some things are better left forgotten."
The bubbly teen patted his shoulder. "Yeah. I hear you."
He gave a grunt of confirmation. Looking down, the fishman frowned. "You did not mention you had been injured."
"I wasn't."
Hack indicated his arm. "You are bleeding."
Surprised, Koala noticed a patch of red on his white gi where she had touched him. When did that…? Confused, she looked down at her glove to indeed find blood on it like he said. There certainly wasn't any injury on her arm. So how did that happen? The last thing she touched was when she shook Cocoa's…
Beneath her cap, Koala's eyes went wide.
The girl turned and raced back the way she came. Hack shouted her name, but she soldiered on regardless. Wrenching open the grate in the floor, Koala flew down the stairs. In the dark she ran, and the whole way she could hear Baby 5's words echoing in her ears. "There's blood on your hands. But not yours."
Blood on his hands. Blood from the Don's murder. Blood, flowing down his arm from where the pirate had cut him.
When Koala arrived back at the jetty, the gondola was still docked there. Its pilot was nowhere to be found. Examining the boat revealed nothing but bloody palm prints on the oar. That and one other thing. Stuffed inside the small oil lamp at the prow was a bundle of Belli, almost completely burned through. As Koala watched the last tips of the cash caught fire and crumbled into dark ash.
She slumped down heavily in the boat then, not wanting to believe. Could it be true? They had been together. She'd sat right here, with her back turned to him the whole ride. Why didn't he kill her?
"Take care, missy."
Staring out over the gleaming black waters, Koala shivered unpleasantly. I let him get away. Twice. Only one word could possibly sum up her feelings.
"Sorry."
Elsewhere in Vanish, the guide Cocoa sat in a deserted building with a white dual Den Den Mushi active before him while he made his report.
"We have independent confirmation. The Pluton plans are still located at Water 7 under the care of Tom's disciple. Don Trumpet is dead and both members of the Revolutionary Army were allowed to escape as ordered."
"The new Chief has already framed them for the assassination," a low quiet voice came back. There was a slight pause during which a faint 'Coo-coo' could be heard in the background. Then, "Your orders were to let at least one of them go. Why bother with two? Were they that strong?"
Cocoa lifted his head, thinking. "Pretty strong, I reckon. One of them surprised me. I decided to escape before anyone else could notice my presence."
"You did well. Come back home. We'll have a new assignment soon."
"CHA-PA-PAH!" a voice came on. "JYABURA WAS TURNED DOWN BY THE MARINE ASSISTANT FENCING INSTRUCTOR GIRL WITH GLASSES!"
"DAMN YOU, ZIPPER-MOUTH!" another one was heard. "WHY ARE YOU TELLING HIM SOMETHING THAT'S PRIVATE?!"
"I TOLD EVERYONE! CHA-PA-PAH!"
The line was switched off shortly afterwards. The assassin grinned. Sounds like things are pretty much the same all over.
He stood up, pocketing the snail-o-phone before departing. That last exchange had gotten him thinking about the girl again. She didn't seem much at first, but there had been a marked improvement in her style right at the end. Combined with the Devil Fruit user, it could have spelled trouble for him. Of course, taking a leap like that was just as dangerous. He should really practice jumping from higher places. Might come in handy.
The explanation for why he hadn't killed her in the boat was trickier. Logically he had told himself it was so as not to raise questions. Her dead body back at the casino was no big deal; the first guard who came across it could take the credit. But floating in the canal when her escape seemed already made? That might get people looking at the matter a bit more closely. Best keep things neat and simple. And, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he had liked the way she smiled. Someone in his line of work didn't get cute girls smiling and winking at him every day. It deserved a little consideration. Not like he had to kill everyone he met. Just enough to stay sharp.
With that he departed the building, leaving behind the floppy hat, cloak, and his identity as Cocoa the Gondolier.
A cold-blooded killer then disappeared into the Vanishing City.
FIN.