Chapter Summary: It's time to hash out the details.

"Needless to say, I accept as well," Mihawk announces after the moment is over. He shrugs. "It seems like a good way to kill time, and an arrangement like this is nothing new to me."

Batman frowns. "How so?"

"Seeing as you've probably monitoring and recording our conversations since we first arrived on this fortress," he says casually, ignoring the disbelieving look Roronoa shoots him and the members of the League, "I assume you are aware we are pirates. And I know Diana and J'onn informed you of the World Government."

The vigilante stares at him for a moment, before slowly nodding. "We are."

Roronoa groans, which Mihawk and everyone else promptly ignores. "Then you should know that for a time, the World Government had an institution called the 'Seven Warlords of the Sea' — a group of seven privateers that answered to the World Government directly in exchange for a number of privileges."

Next to him, his student snorts. "Too many privileges," mutters Roronoa, and Mihawk does not reprimand him for this, because the boy is right. The Warlords did have too many privileges, as much as he had benefited from many of them.

"You were one of these Warlords," Diana deduces.

"Yes. One of the longest-serving ones. I was a Warlord for close to a decade, up until the system's abolition. Being a criminal, but working for the law is something I am very familiar with."

"Excuse me, quick question?" Everyone turns to Flash, who had his hand up like this was school and he was in a classroom. "Why seven? And why even recruit them at all? I mean, judging by the fact that your government was called the 'World' Government, wasn't it already pretty powerful on its own?"

Mihawk raises an eyebrow. This one is smarter than he seems. "To answer both your questions, the number seven was chosen for both its symbolic meaning and because the Government did not want to risk giving too many pirates the privileges the Warlords had. And as for why we were recruited… well, our institution was for propoganda, not for actual service."

"Propaganda?" Flash mouths the words, before speaking louder. "What do you mean by that?"

"Around twenty-five, twenty-six years ago for me, and over thirty for Roronoa over there, was the beginning of the Great Pirate Era, after the execution of the first Pirate King, Gold Roger. Right before the World Government took his head, Roger made a speech revealing that he had left his treasure, the One Piece, somewhere out there for some other pirate to claim it and become the next Pirate King." The swordsman crosses his arms, as the memories wash over him. "With that, thousands took to the seas in search of that treasure, all seeking to succeed Roger as the next Pirate King. It was a golden age of piracy, and the World Government, for all its power, could do nothing to combat the tide."

"So, the Warlords were created. Seven of some of the most powerful pirates in the world, recruited in service to the World Government in order to strike fear into the common pirate. Other pirates hated us, calling us 'government dogs' — but still, they feared us. We were to serve as a deterrent to other pirates, a reason not to take up piracy at all."

Diana blinks before frowning thoughtfully. "But wouldn't the very existence of the Warlords also prompt pirates to seek out more infamy in hopes of being recruited into the Warlords?"

Roronoa snorts, and grins mirthlessly. "Exactly, which tells you all need to know about the World Government there. At the top of my head, I can only think of three Warlords that were even remotely tolerable people, and one of them is sitting right next to me, as much of a bastard as he can be at times. And even with that, only this guy ever held to the agreements he made with the Government. The rest were varying levels of pieces of shit, with some of them being among the worst humanity had to offer, who had no issue using the system for their own gain."

The heroes glance toward Mihawk, who shrugs, not offended. His student did not say anything untruthful, after all. "Roronoa is correct. Pirates abused the system all the time; two even went as far as to conquer kingdoms that were protected by the World Government, using the deliberate ignorance the authorities had to their crimes to stage their coups. One failed, thanks to Roronoa's crew. The other succeeded and kept his grip on his chosen kingdom for ten years, until he was brought down by, ironically, Roronoa's crew as well."

"Huh," Flash glances at Roronoa. "You sure you're not a hero?"

His student scowls and looks away. "We only got involved because they were hurting our friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, I only took down the top lieutenants. It was Luffy that took down Crocodile and Doflamingo."

"Either way," Mihawk continues, cutting that potential conversation off, "it was those two incidents — and the Government's inability to cover them up — that led to the abolition of the Warlord System. As much as it was annoying to be an enemy of the Marines again and being no longer able to collect bounties, I cannot say it was a great loss. Nor can I blame the people for wishing us gone."

Batman peers into Mihawk's eyes for a moment, trying to see if there was any deception to his words. After a moment, he nods. "So, if you are enter the Justice League, will you honor any agreements you made with us like you did with the World Government?"

"I may be a criminal, but I pride myself on my honor. More than that, I am a professional. Unless I heavily disagree with a course of action you take, I will follow whatever orders you give regardless of my own protests."

The vigilante nods, and then glances at Roronoa. "And you? I know you've already agreed, but you also expressed distaste for the Warlord System, and this will be no different in spirit, if not in practice. I can't help but find myself curious." And a little suspicious, is what doesn't say but what everyone hears.

Mihawk takes another glance at his student, who is glaring at Batman. The glare holds, before fading away into a tired sigh. "Look. I'm not saying I like any of this. I don't. But…" And here Roronoa sighs again. "I can tell you guys aren't anything like the World Government. They were corrupt and bloated and taking them down is something I'll never regret. But you guys… you want to do good. You want to help people, no matter what stands in your way. I can respect that." He closes his one eye, and then opens it again, his expression resolute. "So as long as you hold onto that, I'll hold to whatever we agree on today."

The room falls silent again, as another stare-off ensued between Roronoa and Batman. After a moment, the latter nods, seemingly satisfied. "Very well. Then it's time we hash out the details."

"First things first: no killing."

Zoro blinks, while next to him Hawk-Eyes mutters an annoyed 'of course'. He shakes off his surprise quickly. "Sure. That's fine with me."

At the surprised looks he gets with that answer, he rubs the back of his head. "Luffy had this thing about killing," Zoro admits, thinking back to his captain. "While he didn't believe killing in general was wrong under certain circumstances, he preferred to avoid it as much as possible. He didn't like it, and we all followed his lead. This won't be anything new to me."

Diana gives an appreciative hum. "That's good to hear. And you?" She glances at Mihawk, who is still scowling something fierce.

His old mentor shrugs. "Annoying, but doable. I do not like sparing weaklings because many of them never amount to much and tend to come back to irritate me, but it seems that is not an option in this world."

"No. Killing is only tolerated when either yourself or someone else is in immediate, life-threatening danger, and only when there is no other option. Otherwise it's considered murder." Batman narrows his eyes. "You both are skilled enough to refrain from killing except under the most dangerous, direst circumstances. We expect you to exercise that restraint in any and all missions you undertake with us and any other member of the League."

"Yeah," Flash clicks his teeth, "Try to refrain from excessive force, too? No crippling or anything like that."

Zoro winces but nods. A little more difficult, but still doable. Still… "I think we may need training from that front. Something tells me that excessive force for you is a little different from excessive force for us."

"We can arrange that," Diana assures him. "Now, for your essentials. As you'll be dependents on the League as a whole for the duration of your time here, we've decided that you both will each receive a stipend for your service every month, to use at your own leisure. Along with that, you'll be given documentation that will allow you to operate as civilians on Earth when off-duty, or in case you ever decide you would rather reside there for the time being instead of on the Watchtower. And of course, you'll have full use of the Watchtower's amenities as any other full-fledged member of the League, including your own rooms if you choose to reside here."

Both men nod, filing the information away for later use.

"And now for the fun stuff — your superhero identities!" Flash grins. "What do you want for codenames? How about Tri-Blade for you, Zoro?"

Yeah, no. "Pirate Hunter," Zoro deadpans, but with just enough steel to make it clear that he wasn't going to capitulate on this.

"Hawk-Eyes," Mihawk quickly follows, also looking rather severe.

Diana bites the corner of her lip. "Um…"

"Bounty epithets."

"Ah."

The Flash falters upon having that avenue shut down so quickly, but regains his cheer as another thought crosses his mind. "What about costum—?"

Dual glares, one-eyed and hawk-eyed, silence him before he can continue the question. The speedster gulps. "Your usual outfits then?"

The two nod.

"Right. Whatever you want."

After hashing out the details, the swordsmen began a crash course on everything their hosts felt they will need to know in order to succeed as superheroes, let alone as members of the Justice League. That includes world history (at least at a basic level, seeing as both looked vaguely bored at the prospect), geography (Mihawk had given Zoro what passed as the stink-eye when that particular subject was mentioned), Supervillains 101 (as the Flash had called it), and a deep dive into all the little gadgets and equipment they got access to as members of the League, including commlinks and Javelin flight training.

Predictably, the first training sessions were complete disasters.

John Stewart is a former marine. A man that had been in live combat, before he had been recruited by the Guardians of the Universe to become Earth's second Green Lantern. He had suffered through several alien invasions and fought all the major supervillains in the world, from the Joker to Lex Luthor and everything in between. He had endured heartbreak twice over, at the hands of the woman he loved. To be short, John Stewart is a man that had been to hell and back.

And yet nothing — nothing! — can compare to the trial he is undergoing right now.

I think I can see my life flashing right before my eyes, John thinks, pupils blown wide as he clutched the arm rests of his chair. The wind blows past him as the world retches and jerks away in so many directions that it leaves him spinning.

When the vehicle finally stops, the Green Lantern forgoes all propriety and heads to the floor after unlocking his seatbelt, clutching his stomach while murmuring numerous grateful prayers to a number of alien deities he hadn't believed in until now. Out the window of the other door, Zoro's head pops out in curiosity and wonder. "So I guess my driving needs some work?" he asks, a little awkwardly.

John doesn't answer. He just keeps retching.

Mihawk, who is sitting nearby watching the scene, lowers the book he had been reading and simply shakes his head in disappointment. "Amazing, Roronoa. Amazing."

"Okay, here is your scenario — a terrorist group is holding a class full of children hostage, and all of them have guns aimed at the group. At the same time, you're on a time limit because they're about to activate a bomb and blow up the building with everyone inside to send a 'message'. What do you do?"

"Use Yoru to cut down all the men, then cut a hole in the roof and send the bomb into the sky with a whirlwind," Mihawk answers with a bored tone, leaning back into his chair.

Flash nods. "Okay. And what do you do in the aftermath?"

"Leave."

There's a brief pause. "Leave?"

"Yes. The situation is over, the children are safe. There is no reason to stay."

"What about comforting the kids?" Flash suggests, trying not to sound desperate. "Or, you know, staying behind to give a statement to the police?"

Mihawk snorts. "Both actions are wastes of my time. I do not like children, and what is the point of giving a statement? The situation has been solved, the men are defeated and ready to be arrested. If the police want to know what happened, they can just ask the brats or the weaklings."

Deep breaths, Wally. Deep breaths. "Okay, Mihawk, you can't do that, alright? See, you do that and you both lose the trust of the public and the trust of law enforcement, both of which are the only reasons we're able to do what we do. You understand that, right?"

The older man scoffs. Wally sighs.

"So, how did I do?" Zoro asks with a small pant, smirking as he hefts Enma behind him to rest on his shoulder.

Batman remains completely emotionless, face unmoving.

"Well?"

The vigilante sighs, and points to one construct. "Broken spine." And then another. "Severed arm." And then another. "Ruptured spleen."

He continues with pointing to the various constructs Zoro defeated in the HSR, each representing a single gunman of a group of robbers for a mock-up of a real-life heist. With each construct, he announces a single injury, debilitating if not outright crippling. And with every injury, Zoro winces, his grin long gone. By the time Batman is done, the swordsman is sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "I guess I need to hold back a lot more, huh?" He had known that what would count as 'excessive force' in his world would be different in this one, but he didn't realize the difference was that big.

"Yes," Bruce dully replies. "You do. At least you didn't outright kill anyone, though some of the injuries here would be fatal without immediate medical attention."

Zoro blinks. "Huh." Then his eye narrows. "That's a little specific."

Batman sighs again. "Hawk-Eyes cut his all down. They died instantly. When I told him he was overdoing it, he told me that it wasn't his fault our world was full of weaklings."

The World's Greatest Swordsman feels a bead of sweat build up on the back of his head. Yup, that sounded like his old teacher alright. Some things really do never change, he internally sighs.

"Okay, so the doctors have finished all your tests, including the analysis of your blood and DNA," Diana reveals to the two men at the conference table. They are in one of the smaller conference rooms (an office, really) that was close to the infirmary where the two men had been tested when they first arrived to the Watchtower. "And while you do not have a metagene like most people with powers on this Earth do, you do have an enhanced physiology, including stronger muscles and bones. Your metabolism is also much more efficient, which accounts for your enhanced durability and your enhanced healing factors."

"Healing factors?" Zoro asks, not recognizing the term.

"The ability to heal," Diana explains on the other side of the table, sifting through some documents. "Some people have the ability to heal faster than others, such as Superman and myself. On top of that, they may be able to recover from blows that would be fatal to others. Unlike most powers, healing factors cannot be trained, meaning that your healing factors are likely a race-wide trait from your world."

"Huh."

Mihawk rolls his eyes. There is no way his student understood a single word of that. At least this explains why the physical detriments of alcohol and smoking that are so common in this world are so rare in ours. He had been wondering about that ever since Diana had panicked upon seeing him down entire bottle of red wine during their last outing to New York a week ago. Apparently such actions here led to things such as 'failing livers'.

"On top of that, it seems to have slowed your aging. Mihawk, you claimed to be chronologically and physically forty-four, yes?"

"I did," the swordsmaster confirms.

Diana purses her lips. "According to our doctors, your body is the physical equivalent of a man in his early thirties on our world."

This surprises both men. "How is that possible?" Zoro inquires, leaning forward slightly. "He looks no different from when I last saw him."

The Amazon shrugs. "It's not that his body changed, Zoro. It's just that, if someone uninformed of his origins were to take his blood or DNA and analyze it like we did, they would find it would belong to what this world considers a man in his early thirties. It's the same with you. You're barely in your thirties, but according to our charts you're the physical equivalent of a man in his twenties."

"Fascinating," Mihawk says, in a way that states that he isn't really fascinated so much as bored. "What does that mean for us?"

Diana sighs. "It means that we're going to have modify the ages on your documentation," she states bluntly. "From now on, you're going tell people that you," she jabs her finger at Zoro, "are twenty-three, and that you," she moves her finger towards Mihawk, "are thirty-four. Which will be inconvenient, because it also ruins our initial plans to pass you two off as son and father."

There was a beat of silence.

"What?" Both men hiss, suddenly very angry and very dangerous.

As the screaming started, Diana restrains herself from groanings, and instead pinches the bridge of her nose. I hate you so much, Bruce.

That's it. Don't expect any updates for a while for any stories that I'm not collaborating with Arlyss Tolero. I'm dealing with some personal issues right now.

…Plus Initiation isn't done yet.