Hello! Hope everyone is having a fantastic weekend! Sorry this chapter is short, I simply couldn't think of a way to make it longer without it bleeding into another chapter.

Enjoy!

Smoker got an idea where he should start. Katie's records were wiped clean after she joined the youth program. He didn't believe in coincidences. There had to have been a reason for two of the highest ranking officers to cast away their caution against a World Government official, that just happen to been an instructor in a youth program.

The snowy haired man knew there would be no way any of their tongues would loosen if he had simply asked. Smoker needed proof for his reasoning. Katelyn was considered a civilian. She wasn't a wanted criminal of any sort. He couldn't just rip into her past without explicit permission and the White Hunter wasn't so petty to hound her for it while she recovered.

The captain breathed an audible sigh. He had an undeniable premonition that the two were connected. The marine was just unsure where to begin. Everything seemed to lead back to Katelyn. Deep inside his own thoughts, an idea sparked. If she were fourteen, that meant nine years from when her records were wiped. He could try and peek into Kane's history from nine years ago. It would be tough since he was a financial liaison. One wrong move and financial difficulties could fall on the officer which, severe enough, could result in ending Smoker's career.

Ignoring the chaos in the sign in entry, the man made a bee-line for the records department. The massive grey stone and brick building more resembled an old cathedral rather than what he had expected. It did house the majority of the military records, including his own. Only officers from the rank of captain and above were allowed entry.

The structure wasn't as grand as the department in Mary Geoise but it was still amazing to look at. His entry through the wooden doors was not unnoticed as two guards saluted him. Smoker ignored the protocol and simply came to a massive cherry stained oak desk which sat at the end of a red carpeted walkway with tables and chairs on each side. Behind the majestic desk carved of wood, sat a single elderly woman with a blue beehive hair style.

It was eerily quiet and the smell of aged dust waft under his nose. Shadows danced from the dim lights hung over head. Like an archive from the days before power. His eyes took in and appreciated the view. The time and man power it must have taken to place each article, dating back several years, was humbling.

Smoker returned his gaze down at the receptionist. The woman was much older than he with a thin long face and a lengthy hooked nose, like a bird's beak. Wired spectacles perched just below her dark black eyes which have yet to gaze up at her new visitor. Grey orbs slipped down towards the elderly woman as he stood before her. He arched a brow at her style of clothes. The old bag sported a yellow lapel career tunic dress. Fashioned neatly to fit her frail form.

"How can I help you", an aged voice cracked through the silence. There was a shake in her wrinkled hands, revealing just how old she really was while she put the pen in her hand down.

"I need records pulled up on a marine from nine years ago. Sakai Kane." The captain's gruff voice resonated through the echoing building. Smoker could compare the acoustics to some of the darkest caves he had been in. This place made him feel rather uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry… The World Government officials had just pulled those records yesterday. He's on a blackout list, you know? Unless you're the…" Her straight forward tone didn't sit well with him. He hated people with that sort of authoritative character. Instead the officer raised a gloved hand to stop the hag. He turned on his heels and walked away. There was no point in arguing or losing his temper here. It would get him nowhere.

The marine took long strides with haste in his step. The sound of his boots screaming under the pounding of his weight as if they were doing the protesting for him. Outside, the captain took in a deep breath before lighting up two of his cigars. His eyes blinked to adjust to the brighter sunlight.

"Ah! Finally caught up", a shorter woman panted behind him. She was huffing as if the poor thing had been running. When the long dusky haired female looked up, Smoker startled. The deep scar on the side of her face was patterned after a waffle. It looked painful with the crisscross lines engraved into her flesh, leaving pits of small squares patterned between them. Undoubtedly, she would have been a beautiful woman as seen on the untouched half while the other side was left severely disfigured.

"Grandma says you forgot your research card. She doesn't like those who litter her place of work. Be more mindful next time", the brunette huffed with a smile before bowing and presenting the note card that had been folded neatly in half.

The captain wanted to protest the shorter, petite woman at first but remained quiet. A thick leather covered hand took the paper. "Can I ask what happened", his tone dryly questioned. He flinched, unsure what to think or how she'd react.

With a smile that hid the pain that was obvious to him, the woman in the white button up and black skirt nodded. "An accident when I was in a marine youth program", the records employee answered before turning away on her high heels. Smoker was sidelined with a throbbing of anger in his chest. He was smart enough to figure out, that was no accident. The captain was left with many more unanswered questions. Namely, how was one of the most celebrated heroes involved?

To not raise suspicion in front of the guards at the door, the captain traveled down the stairs before his gaze dropped at the card in his hand. The White Hunter opened the paper to see the words 'medical records', written neatly in cursive black ink. His thoughts clicked. The one document no one could close or erase was a medical history. If there was a trail as so strongly hinted, there would be some evidence somewhere.

From there Smoker knew where to go now. He had a plan until a gunshot zinged into his shoulder which prompted the marine to activate his devil fruit ability. The Hunter felt the tissue and muscle tear as the hot bullet tore through the deltoid. The heat of the wound was nothing against his anger.

The angle and direction of the projectile revealed which way to look. The second shot zoomed through his smoke. The captain grabbed his jitte that had been strapped to his back with pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. Swiftly he lurched forward as bystanders began to scream and panic. People ran as another shot cut through his smoke. Ignoring the first hit, the man practically propelled his upper half of his body up the clock tower as his sharp eyes spotted the assassin in black clad.

Before Smoker could even reach the top, the man shrouded in a inky dyed cloak threw himself off the ledge and landed on the iron bars of the widow's walk below. The metal rods impaled the would-be assassin through the torso; ripping through flesh and bone. Blood drained from the lifeless body as limbs dangled at the sides.

From the top, Smoker could see the home owner below cover her children's eyes as she ran them back into the house. Furious, the man bellowed and shouted. He ignored the wet crimson rivers pouring down his arm and soaking into his specialist jacket. The heat of the wound was nothing compared to his anger of what just happened. Someone didn't want him finding out what transpired in Kane's history to the point in silencing the man if he had discovered anything. That's what he took from the situation at least.

Making things more complicated, the only living connection to whom was behind all this just committed suicide. He was so close! A heavy fist flew into the brick wall before cracking some of the individual stones in his wake. Heavy breaths of air still left him with the sensation of suffocating. The captain was beyond infuriated.

Marines came pouring in. Many began taking statements as the devil fruit user walked down the stairs of the clock tower. He needed the time to think before he was bothered by idiots with their senseless questions. His mind reeled in the reality of what just happened. The weight of it all settled. The marine was able to control his breathing by the time he reached the bottom and think a bit with some clarity. He needed to report to Aokiji as soon as possible. If anyone could get their hands on the medical records, it would be him. The captain worried their next step would to try and make those disappear. They needed to act now.