Heretic's Roost, despite the awfully dreary name, was actually a rather peaceful place. It was a small island, even by North Blue standards, a quiet place of craggy cliffs, innumerable sheep, and wind rippling through long grasses.

That, as much as the irony of the name, was why Grigori Rasputi had chosen to meet one of his apprentices there.

It was a quiet place. Just a pair of lawn chairs and a cooler full of beer on the grass beneath one of the Roost's cliffs. The sun shone, birds sang, and the gentle sound of the surf was never distant.

His old apprentice appeared without any fuss, what was one moment empty space suddenly being occupied by a man in flowing robes and equally flowing facial hair. A long hat crowned his head, and he carried a paper fan in one hand.

"Come on," Grigori Rasputi, ex-Commodore, ex-Naval Intelligence Officer (Black-level Cleared), and current fugitive from the World Government, said to Vice Admiral Komei the White Feather. He saluted the man with the unopened beer in his sole hand. "Have a seat, young pup. It's a beautiful day."

Komei, smirking, sat, and Rasputi handed him a beer. Komei popped the cap off the bottle with his thumb, and drank deep. "A pity about the poison," the Vice Admiral said as he set the drink down. "It's quite subtle, but the antidote itself rather ruins the beer."

Ah. Now the game was on.

Rasputi smiled. "I had to try, of course," he said, while discreetly pressing a button set into the arm of his chair. Nothing happened, and he sighed. "I suppose the shaped charge under your seat was a dud?"

"And those in the cliff face overhead," the Vice Admiral confirmed.

"Sniper in the grassy knoll?"

"Working for me."

"Busboys at the diner you ate at last night?"

"Replaced with my own agents."

"My pistol?"

"Replaced the cartridges with blanks last night. You're still using the same old trap system, teacher."

Rasputi chuckled. "Fair enough, young pup. I suppose you caught me. Mind filling an old man in on what's happened in the world? Trying to evade the combined police and intelligence forces of the entire planet doesn't leave much time for reading the rag Morgans calls news."

Komei raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. "You aren't curious about why I'm here?"

"Well, after what I did to poor Mengde it makes sense they'd send someone more capable to apprehend me."

"He'll recover, you know. And he doesn't bear you any ill will."

"Ah, so this is where you make the pitch for me to come in, yes?"

Komei at least had the decency to look offended. "No, teacher, I'm afraid this conversation only ends one way. But, as a courtesy…" He extended a newspaper, and Rasputi took it, setting down his beer to do so.

Dated yesterday. Hm.

The usual chaos and madness, of course, pirates on the Line, Revolutionaries pushing forward, another sacking of the Sevenfold Kingdom by one of Kaido's fleets (honestly, that poor place was just badly positioned, right between two Emperors like that)...

He flipped to the bounty section out of sheer habit, and laughed softly. "Oh, Vinci," he said quietly. "The damn brat's still raising Sengoku's blood pressure, isn't he? First Cipher Pol gets its bell rung by his right hand, then he goes and convinces the Dawnbringer to get out of his cups and wins both the Surgeon and the Priest of Anarchy to his cause...I'm surprised it's not higher."

"Two hundred and fifteen million is no small sum," Komei noted.

"True, but I would have expected more from the Buddha. And the only other increase is in the Butcher Bird's bounty, which is one hundred and eighty million and...Alive Only. Well. That's a first." He smiled at Komei. "I wonder who ordered that?"

"It is not my duty to gainsay the decisions of the highest echelons of the World Government," Komei said neutrally.

Rasputi chuckled. "Well, the boy's a practical sort. And well-taught."

"Too well," Komei said. "Teacher, why did you give him access to your family's collection? He would have been harmless without it."

"Harmless, and by now dead, young pup," Rasputi said sadly, putting the newspaper down. "He would have run from me regardless, and making him a Marine was doomed from the start. As for a quiet life as a doctor...come off it. As if any Grigori could set themselves to such a task. You know what my family is, young pup, and we do not live easy lives."

"And if you had not armed him…"

"He would be just another casualty. You think I would have wanted that, for Alexandra's son? She would have torn strips off me for letting him even leave the house without it. So I gave him his inheritance. I'm proud of it, pup, even knowing what the consequences would be."

"Caring about your family does not treason make, teacher, but you burned your way across islands to come here. The chaos you've left will take years to put right." Komei sighed, face a perfect mask of sorrow. "I'm sorry it had to be like this."

"No, you are not," Rasputi chided. He suppressed a cough.

"Not quite. It appears that young Vinci's pedigree won out, in a way," Komei said, handing Rasputi a second newspaper, dated a day after the first. Rasputi scanned it quickly, and laughed.

"If you believe things are that simple, I failed in every way possible at teaching you, pup," he said.

"Of course not. But even the appearance…"

"Oh, and now we see why you humor me so well. Pumping me for information?"

"As if I would be so crude. That can wait until you're in a cell."

"Oh, I do not mind. You wish to see what my grandson will do? It's quite simple. He's the best of us." Another cough pushed back, and Rasputi barely kept the pain from showing on his face.

"The best of you? Grigori Vinci is the son and grandson of a hated branch of your family."

"If you intend to raise a fighting dog, you don't treat it kindly," Rasputi said. "You raise them hungry, do you not? Scraps that they can use, barely enough, but it'll train them to hunt their own prey and savage anything in pursuit of a better meal."

"So you planted a hunger for knowledge in him. That hardly makes him any different from his cousins."

"Those children will stay in the little boxes you've given them. Vinci...Vinci will set fire to it, and use the ashes for something grander. I know it. Generations of history are behind him...and now someone with all the power and none of the restraint the others have so carefully instilled will be coming into his own. It will be...glorious."

"It will be madness."

"Of course, pup. If I wanted his rise to be sane, I would not have set one of the greatest mistakes of the world after him."

There was the slightest intake of breath from Komei, and Rasputi grinned, before another spike of pain ripped through his chest and he doubled over, coughing. Blood spattered the earth, but it didn't matter, because Komei was doing the same.

"What...what is this…" the Vice Admiral gasped.

"Last...thing I can do for the boy…" Rasputi growled.
"This will...kill us both…" Komei wheezed, before another fit of coughing took him.

"I know, pup. Had to be done." Komei would have and had found every measure aimed solely at him, but the man had never considered what a desperate opponent could do. Rasputi had failed to impart that lesson, it seemed. "You...you were the only one, who knew about him. Who could put the pieces together…" He paused, another wave of coughs ripping through him. The damn aerosol was effective enough, he wouldn't deny, but it hurt. "A century of sin, he's inherited...and nobody will see it coming."

Komei sat back in his chair, blood dripping from his lips, and laughed for a moment - a sound of utter and complete despair - before slumping back. He was still breathing, but that would end soon.

Rasputi leaned back in his own chair, and looked at the setting sun with blurring vision.

He wished he could've seen what his grandson brought into the world with his own eyes.

He wished he could've lived to find out if the boy would be the one to undo the first of their sins.

He wished for so many things, but he was old, and his time was up.

Grigori Rasputi died facing the setting sun, baring blood-soaked teeth and a blackened soul to the heavens, daring them to judge him.

They did not.

"Ichiji."

Something in Father's tone made the firstborn son of the Vinsmokes turn. It was something he had never truly heard in Father's voice, and he could not quite place it.

Father was looking over the bounty section of the latest newspaper, and his face was pale.

"Father?" Ichiji asked.

"Come here," Vinsmoke Judge grated, and Ichiji walked to Father's desk, calculating if he had done something that could possibly have been in error, and finding nothing.

Father handed him a wanted poster, and Ichiji scrutinized it. The image was of good quality, a man in t-shirt and shorts with odd wings of crystal protruding from his back, a green, scaled mask covering the lower part of his face. Shaggy brown hair, eyes were red with black sclerae. The only thing truly of note was the necklace - magatama were not a common sight on people dressed so casually. Priests, perhaps, but not most civilians.

"What is significant about this man?" Ichiji asked. His bounty did not even crack two hundred million, despite the truly significant list of crimes attached to it - cannibalism, mass murder, and various forms of assault on government property being among them. That spoke of someone the World Government did not see as a large-scale threat.

"It is...of significant interest. To many parties, the World Government first among them. Note the addition, Ichiji."

"Only Alive. Unusual. Does he possess some sort of information the Marines require?"

"In all likelihood, yes. But it's information does not concern us."

Ichiji cocked his head. "It is...not human."

"Not in the slightest, Ichiji." Vinsmoke Judge straightened. "I am assigning six vessels and their infantry detachments to you, as well as a special weapons team. Bring Reiju with you as well."

"Our orders?"

"Capture it. Alive. Bring it to me. Physical damage, unless augmented with Haki, can be healed fairly easily by it, so use whatever means are at your disposal."

"I understand."

"Ichiji." There was another edge to Father's tone, another thing he did not understand. "Be extremely careful with this...creature. It is far more dangerous than its bounty would suggest. It is clever, ancient, and most importantly, it has the backing of powerful forces. If the choice comes between keeping it alive or risking losing it once captured, it being deceased will suffice."

"That would set us at odds with the World Government. Perhaps fatally, if our presence is obvious enough."

Vinsmoke Judge smiled. "If I have the creature's corpse, the World Government's displeasure will not matter. You have your orders, Ichiji."

"I understand, Father."

It wasn't often the Fleet Admiral called a meeting like this.

The Great Staff Officer, Vice Admiral Tsuru. The Bounty Assignment Officer, Commodore Brannew. The Chief Logistician of the Navy, Rear Admiral Marius, and the Head of Military Research and Development, Rear Admiral Oppenheimer. The Head Treasurer, Commodore Gates, and the Chief Public Relations Officer, Commodore Gobbles, as well as the Head Intelligence Officer, Vice Admiral Edgar.

People he met every day, but it was a rare and dire situation that saw all of these people gathered in one room. Not necessarily a military situation - those usually saw Admirals and Warlords and people who were more brawn than brains gathering - but one that concerned the Marines as an organization.

"We," Sengoku began, "have lost the arms race."

There was no hubbub, or argument, or anything else. These men and women were too experienced for that. There was only silence, as they waited for him to elaborate.

"The Browning Arms Company has unveiled a new line of weaponry. Fully-automatic rifles, single-barrel machine guns, pistols that contain twice the ammunition of a revolver for half the weight. They call it...the Vodun line. And yes, they openly acknowledge that they purchased the designs from Bertram Lauren of the Nightmare Pirates."

"Pirates have scraped together advanced designs before," Marius said cautiously. "But this…"

"Mass-producible. It's confirmed," Oppenheimer stated. "I have not the slightest idea where the girl got such ideas, but she's advanced the field of personal armament by a century at least. And our entire arsenal…"

"Has just become completely obsolete," Sengoku confirmed. "The only reason we haven't begun to take massive casualties from engagements with Blues pirate crews is due to the simple fact that Browning's initial production run was bought out. By Kaido."

Everyone present paled. The King of the Beasts was dangerous enough as it was, but with weapons like those…

"He has the industrial base to replicate the designs, and he will certainly do so. Perhaps even improve still further on them," Sengoku continued. "And he will almost certainly apply the lessons of them to his own vessels. I expect Big Mom to follow suit, perhaps the Whitebeards as well. And other arms companies will soon enough start producing their own copies, which pirates and criminals everywhere will get their hands on despite our best efforts. If we do not respond, I expect the Marines to lose at least three quarters of our presence in the Blues, and almost all of it along the Grand Line, within eighteen months."

"If," Tsuru said carefully.

Sengoku nodded. "Gobbles, Edgar, you are to use any and all means at your disposal to secure examples of these guns, the plans for their manufacture, and the same for any requisite ammunition. Commodore Gates, Rear Admiral Marius, you and Rear Admiral Oppenheimer will discern their engineering. If a superior counterpart can be made more effectively, draw up plans to do so. I want our soldiers armed with these new weapons before two years have passed. The expense does not matter - if the Elder Stars complain, I will inform them personally." Finally stealing some budget back from the Heavenly Tribute to make sure kingdoms existed to send that tribute would be worth the sleepless nights this nightmare had already given him, at the very least. "This is to take the highest priority of all research projects. Shut down the Pacifista project if you must - a platoon of soldiers armed with these weapons will have similar effect for less expense, in any case."

"This will strain our budget to the breaking point regardless, Fleet Admiral," Gates warned.

"I understand. But it's either that, or we finally lose the war. We can take up the slack with purchases from private companies, if need be, but we must re-equip our soldiers."

"Should I update Vodun's bounty poster?" Brannew asked.

"No. It would signal that she's seen as a threat, and despite this catastrophe being her fault, she herself is not. The bounty stands, but...inform the men she's to be brought in alive if possible." He sighed, for once feeling every one of his years. "We have a lot of catching up to do, and little time to do it with. Get to work."

Captain - no, Commodore now, thanks to those idiots at HQ - Smoker was pissed off.

This was not an unusual state of affairs. Especially now, given how Straw Hat had escaped at Jaya, and the whole 'we're going to promote you because we're too cowardly to admit a pirate saved the day' clusterfuck.

However, this was a whole new level of pissed off. He could actually feel the veins standing out on his temples as he chewed on his latest cigars.

"C-Commodore?"

He reined in his temper, though. It wasn't exactly kind to scare the crap out of his newest Ensign.

"Read," he growled, handing the copy of the idiotic orders they'd been given.

Tashigi took the document - thankfully, she had her glasses this time - and blinked in surprise. "We're...being reassigned? To Arlen? What…the City of Gardens has been under quarantine for years! What could possibly…"

"Decades, Ensign, not just years. For another, the City of Gardens isn't the only place there, there's plenty going on in Port Roybal that a Marine garrison keeps an eye on. And last…" He let out a cloud of smoke. "The medical convoys to the city of Emory are always, always, protected by a mixed contingent of Marines and security officers from the Center for Disease Research and Prevention. The brass likes to use it to...shore up the loyalties of officers they don't think are sufficiently...just."

Tashigi grimaced. "They didn't like you trying to reject your promotion, sir."

"No, Ensign, no they didn't. And so we're getting assigned to cool our heels and deliver medicine to a population that, without it, will turn into a pack of frothing berserkers and burn the island to the ground. When we could instead be hunting down pirates. Hina's on the rotation for the month after us, too."

"Sir, does this mean that…"

"Yes. We're going to have to call off the hunt for Straw Hat and his crew." He sighed. There went his perfect record. "There's a silver lining to this, though."

"Oh?"

"Last I heard, a pretty big task force left Arlen to go to Tartarus...and Grigori Vinci was last seen on that island. So if we make good time, we might get the sight of that murdering bastard in chains, him and the rest of that crew of demons."

"Commodore Smoker, sir! We just got today's newspaper, and-"

Smoker snatched the thing out of the panicking Marine's hands, and saw the headline.

His blood pressure spiked again, instantly.

"WHAT THE FU-"