Chapter 67: Full-Steam

"If Chopper were here, he'd be having a field day with how we're using these bubbles," Nami remarked through slightly gritted teeth.

"We'we having enough of a field day without that," Carue returned in a similar tone. "Awso, youw thwee o'quawck."

A quick bolt of lightning lashed out, frying another sap attempting to blow the whistle on the Straw Hats' coup, with perhaps a bit more force than was usual for Nami. Understandable, though, when she recognized the mark on the sap's arm. Some choice comments from Soundbite about the sap's establishment were just gas on the fire.

"Thanks. You've definitely got that right," Nami huffed, swirling her clouds around as she built up a fresh charge. "Honestly, why couldn't these bastards have set up somewhere sane and typical and flat, like a desert, or a plain, instead of this damn labyrinth—Billy, barrel-roll!" The navigator clenched tightly onto her mount as he spun in midair, slashing out the bubble from under another runner, and discharged a blast of voltage into the runner on his way down. "That comes complete with three-dimensional vehicles?! Also, one's going high."

"On it," Carue said, zipping across a half-dozen bubbles to the trunk of the nearest mangrove. In an impressive display of his training, he charged up the trunk and pushed off to body-slam the bubble biker off his ride. "And shtay down! And tah be faiyah—"

"Fair!?" Nami and Billy squawked in indignant unison, the prior throwing in a concussive blast of wind that cheerfully introduced her target's skull to the nearest building.

"It's not wike 'dese guysh awe vewy conshidewate to begin with, sheesh, wet me finish my sentence," Carue scoffed as he hopped back onto the bubbles.

A few seconds of travel later, another target came into sight. Before anyone could attack, though, a flying fish zoomed in and bodychecked him, sending him tumbling out of view. The Straw Hats halted, staring, giving the rider time to direct his mount into a controlled, slow glide towards them.

"Status update, sirs and ma'am," the rider said, saluting. "Boss Duval and Motobaro have joined your guard force at Grove 77; the rest of us are spread out and awaiting your orders."

"Glad to have you guys on our side this time!" Nami replied with a quick salute of her own. "Tell most of your guys to keep finding and bushwhacking these schmucks as long as you can and keep them inside Soundbite's dead-zone so they can't raise the alarm. We want the element of surprise to last us as long as possible!"

"Aye-aye, ma'am!" the fish rider nodded, before his gaze snapped down to the roots of the mangroves. "Er, for the record, does that include those three guys trying to sneak by down—ah, no, they're running."

"MINE!" Carue quacked, shooting down at the hapless slavers.

"While Carue bounces those stooges off the pavement," Nami said, the ongoing carnage a flicker in her peripheral vision. "You have any updates on how the rest of the teams are doing? The explosions are pretty self-explanatory, and I'd normally ask Soundbite for details, but I'd rather not distract him any more than absolutely necessary."

"Of course. Let me see…" The Fish Rider withdrew a map from his jacket and gave it a quick scan. "So far, things aren't going bad. Your captain, as well as the Mad Monk and Roar of the Seas are going strong, they'll be done with the 20s Groves pretty soon. But, eh…" The Rider paused, scratching the back of his neck. "The 10s are proving to be a… bit more of a challenge."

-o-

"LOOK OUT!"

It was this panicked cry that allowed a knot of slaver-employed mercenaries to narrowly avoid getting slammed into the wall by the ballistic body of one of their comrades.

Never mind that that would have been a far kinder fate than what the two pirates they were fighting were planning. A fate that one of them experienced almost immediately by way of Bonney ramming her heel into his chin. "Alright, anyone else want some, or are you going to do the smart thing and give yourselves up for a slightly less severe beatdown?!" she demanded, the unconscious sap she'd kicked bouncing off the ceiling and landing behind her in a crumpled heap.

The mercenaries nervously shifted around before one of them, fumbling behind his back, opened the door that he'd been backed up against. Immediately, he vanished into the dark room beyond, his comrades scrambling in after him. None of the pirates moved to stop them, not even when the last mook slammed the door behind him and the sound of haphazard fortification filtered through.

Bonney sighed in mock-disappointment. "The hard way it is, then. Now… Bepo, right? If you wouldn't mind…?"

"Aye-aye, ma'am!" the polar bear barked, marching up to the door. One firm kick from a mink that had run with Trafalgar Law for eleven years, and neither the door nor the hasty fortifications behind it stood a chance. Bepo took a few steps into the darkness past the door, only to leap back a few seconds later, ducking and covering on the ground to avoid the salvo of bullets that smacked into the far wall. Bepo pulled the broken door shut again and looked at the Supernovas with him, expression apologetic.

"I'd like to report that I think we just chased them into their armory, ma'am," he said.

"…right. Roronoa, you go in first," Bonney ordered.

Zoro heaved a put-upon sigh and drew one of his blades. Slicing the door open, he strolled in, casually deflecting the bullets fired at him. "And here I thought I could have some fun. Make yourselves useful and free the slaves, would you?"

The mink and captain scowled at the swordsman's back, and Bonney glanced at Bepo. "Next place we hit, do me a favor and accidentally break his leg."

"Aye-aye! Though, uh… I don't really think that'll slow him down."

"No, but it'll make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to see him bleeding."

"You know I can still hear you idiots, right?"

"You were supposed to!"

On the other side of the room, Ever rolled her eyes as she brought her heel down on a cage's lock. "I really hope that the other groups are being a lot more efficient than us right now…"

-o-

Two stoic Supernovas, one with a bored smirk and the other with an impassive scowl, stood before a particularly stubborn slaver.

"Let's make this nice and simple, mister scumbag slaver," Trafalgar Law stated patiently, drumming his fingers on the barrel he was using as a makeshift table.

"Listen here, you worthless shit, my name is—!"

"Irrelevant, because of just how dead you're about to be," X. Drake cut him off.

"See, here's the thing," Law explained. "As you'll recall, we have a third bigshot with us today. And even though he doesn't look like it, he's Black Leg Sanji, of the Straw Hats. This is important because right now, he's outside comforting the mother who we just freed from your gainful employ. And he's comforting her because she just begged us to retrieve her child, her seven-year-old son, who you sold earlier today. Which means that you have all of ten minutes to cooperate with us and give us what we want before Sanji comes in here and kicks you to death. So, for the sake of keeping this brief and moving things along… tell us who your buyer was, would you kindly?"

Law's expression stayed stoically smug for a moment before shifting to annoyance, an expression he directed skyward. "No, I will not get a mustache and a golf club, why would I even want to?… no, I don't care how appropriate or hilarious it would be to hit him with the golf club… what do you mean I would be the one getting hit?!" Scowling, he stood up from the barrel with an annoyed grunt. "Finish up here, would you, Drake? I need to see a snail about an impending saltshaker enema… yes, you heard me, a saltshaker!"

Drake rolled his eyes as Law wandered off before taking his place. "Look, here's the deal: Your books state that you sold the child for 2.5 million. Borderline extortion even if you consider longevity, meaning that whoever you sold to must have been wealthy. Now, normally we'd have already beaten your head in for this, except you don't record your customers' names. But someone like you, I don't doubt you have it somewhere in your head. Now." Drake leaned his head forward just so, so that his now-slit pupils were appropriately shadowed. "Talk."

"C-C-C-Come on, it was just a slave!" the trader whined desperately, somehow managing to combine that and incredulous annoyance in the same breath.

In response, Drake's expression and demeanor returned to calmly impassive. His hand grabbed the slaver's head—

THUNK! "GAAAH!"

—bounced the slaver's face off the top of the barrel between them, cracking its lid clean through.

"That was wood," Drake drawled impatiently, ignoring the slaver's howls as he cradled his shattered nose. "The next one will be metal. Let's try again, before I have to get insistent."

-o-

A simple question: what do you do if your business is being attacked by pirates, and the entirety of the island you're operating on is their target? A simple answer: get off the island. An answer every criminal not under attack grasped and executed. Or, at least, attempted to execute.

See, in their panic, they failed to consider that the simplicity of the solution meant that any competent attackers would have long since thought of it first, and thus set up countermeasures.

"The same story on a different day… but why am I doing this?" Bege wondered aloud. Beneath his feet, the Nostra Castello's cannons aligned with the ships trying to flee from Sabaody's main port. Thus immobilized, his men and a grab-bag assortment of pirates from other crews could and were boarding the ships to question the crews and search for any 'illicit' cargo.

"I mean, really now," Bege continued to monologue. "I have plenty of treasure, a big enough reputation, and a solid crew behind me already. So why am I playing the big damn hero here!?"

"Because you were the one who turned to piracy because 'enough' was never enough, perhaps?" Hawkins mused from the prow of his ship, the Grudgedorf, which was moored next to Bege's fortress-ship. His eyes never left the cards spread on the velvet-covered table before him. "For my part, it appears that Cross's little 'surprise' approaches pricelessness in its value," he added.

Bege huffed out a mouthful of smoke and shook his head.

"Or is it simply because of the debt you acknowledged when they attacked Enies Lobby?"

Again, Bege did not answer the other Supernova, under the pretense of searching for one particular ship name. And then a snail rang inside his headquarters—that is, his quarters inside his head—and suddenly the pretense was no longer a pretense.

He tapped his finger to his ear, Hawkins curiously glancing up. "What?"

"Got a ship for you to look out for," came Drake's dry voice, his expression tense. "Keep an eye out for a royal cruise liner called the Weynsnipe. They spent a lot for just one kid, so they're likely to have plenty more cash onboard."

"Along with the kid, yes yes, I got the implications. I'm not Black Bart, you know…" Bege groused, side-eyeing his companion. "Priority target, the Weynsnipe, a luxury ship. One kid in particular."

Hawkins exhaled in disgust, then got to his feet. "Shall we, then? I believe that one is just ahead, the luxury craft 90 degrees off the port side. It would certainly explain why they've been so dead set on trying to leave before everyone else."

Bege snapped his attention around, noting the garish ship, and promptly scowled as it suddenly dropped full sail and tried to make a break for open waters.

"As I was saying…" the diviner sighed.

"Yeah, that's our target alright. HEY!" A round of blanks aided his shout in getting the attention of his subordinates. And also the attention of the contingent of dugongs that was helping support said subordinates and maintain the aquatic advantage.

As for the Weynsnipe, the people onboard were sent into a panicked frenzy, alright. A frenzy that only accelerated the ship's progress away from the island. Hawkins sighed and snapped the cards in his hands back into their deck.

"If they're this inclined to resist, better to cripple their vessel. Do you have any harpoon weapons in your arsenal?" the Magician inquired.

"Shouldn't you already be able to tell that for yourself?" Bege demanded.

"I realize that I am a measure of what you plebeians would call 'bullshit,' but I am not that level of bullshit," Hawkins huffed, rolling his eyes. He set down his cards and rose to his feet. "Rather, I'm the kind of 'bullshit' who has to tell you to duck so that I don't run the risk of accidentally incinerating you."

"What're you—GAH!"

Bege was given ample warning, as Hawkins had only begun to draw the blade. His panic and haste in hitting the deck were because he, like anyone else on Skelter Bite last week who was not a swordsman, had no desire to be in the crosshairs of a cursed sword that was as dangerous as any Supernova and ten times more bloodthirsty than Kid.

A prudent move, as it turned out. Hawkins' almost dismissive slash with the cursed blade let loose an arc of green fire that not only ripped the Weynsnipe's sail in two but also set what remained of the sail and a good chunk of the ship's mast on fire.

Hawkins resecured the sword in its sheath, which appeared to be one gigantic metal seal tag, then retook his seat as their ships approached the Weynsnipe. "The Dugongs will likely be displeased with this amount of damage," he remarked without a hint of remorse. Then he paused and slowly turned his head to focus toward the ship. "Do you hear those cries?"

Bege looked at the wrecked ship, tilting his head and outright cupping his ear… then he heard it, and his eyes narrowed as he identified what Hawkins meant. They fell into silence until they boarded the ship.

"Alright, who owns this rotten tub?" Bege 'asked' the cowering crew and passengers who'd been cornered on deck—though for all that his tone was calm and even, 'demanded' seemed more accurate for the sheer sense of foreboding his short stature exuded.

Only one person seemed unaffected, and it was that person who stepped forward, everything about him screaming 'pompous.'

"Y-You uncouth, ill-bred ruffians are being an inconvenience! Do you have any idea who I am?! Bah, doesn't matter: relinquish the funds to repair my ship and maybe I will ask the Marines to be lenient with—AAAGH!"

The demonic scarecrow that had just torn at his arm stepped back, leaving behind superficial but bleeding cuts. As Hawkins resumed his normal form, he gathered the blood from his fingertips and let Bege take over scowling at the noble. A scowl only amplified by the cries he could still hear below deck.

"You're going to tell us where the kids are," Bege rumbled—literally rumbled with a voice too big for his small body—as he marched forwards. "And if you do it fast enough, then maybe you'll be able to walk before the end of the century."

"And if you hesitate to comply, you will wish you hadn't," Hawkins picked up, shaking the newly woven straw doll he was holding. "We have our reasons to sack this archipelago without killing anyone, but you would be surprised what you can live through."

So saying, Hawkins stuck a pin stuck through the doll's right arm, and the noble screamed as his corresponding limb tore open and started dripping blood. He grabbed his arm in terror, staring at the pirates with wide eyes.

"I think this is the part where you beg and concede," one of the passengers said helpfully, with no small amount of guiltless glee. A glee he backed up by directing a suddenly far more amiable expression to the pirates. "For the record, those of us who work for him only work for him, nothing else. So, any chance we could just abandon ship and leave him to your 'mercies'…?"

Bege took a few seconds to gauge their faces before answering.

"Go, then. Take half of what you can carry," he said. He gave Hawkins a look that the other pirate returned; it was apparent to both of them that whichever ones went for their weapons were insincere. With that, the Castle-man took the cigar from his mouth, brandishing the burning tip it at the noble.

"Want some more incentive?"

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!" he screamed, ripping off a jeweled necklace that, upon further examination, was a keyring. The pirate replaced his cigar and took up the ring.

"And?"

"They're below deck, center door then center door again!"

The former don strode off without another word, casually breaking the door off its hinges as he descended into the depths of the ship. Passing through the second door, his face turned to disgust; the door was fortified, as were the walls, while the room itself was a spacious sitting room. There were two clear holes in the fortifications: one crack from the damage above that had crippled the soundproofing, and the other sealed by steel bars. Beyond which was a group of kids.

Every last one had tearstains on their eyes, and it took only a moment to identify the one who had just been added: he was the most terrified of them all, and was chained to the outside of the cage.

Suppressing a sigh, Bege approached the boy and, gently but firmly, raised his head so that his eyes locked with Bege's own.

"Come with me. I'll take you back to your mother," he said softly. The boy trembled, but after a few seconds, his hand hesitantly reached out to take Bege's own. He looked at the other kids, their expressions wary but hopeful. Shock overtook the other emotions when Bege unlocked the chains of the boy beside him and then dropped the keys to the cage and chains within easy reach.

"As for you, you're all free to go. Go to Grove 77 if you don't know your way home from here." Bege jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the suit-wearing pirates that had entered the room behind him. "And if you need help getting there, just ask some of my guys and they'll do you a solid."

Two of the kids didn't hesitate, bolting out of the room as fast as their legs could carry them, and the rest didn't take long to follow. A few remained until the others had gone, and Bege watched them until the cell was empty. He looked over it carefully, seeing nothing of note, before sending a mental order that had a cannonball flying behind him as he walked out, obliterating the cell.

Re-emerging, he found the noble sobbing miserably as he watched the children escape, to the disgust of every pirate present. Bege also noticed Hawkins raising a brow at him, almost certainly because of the boy who was still holding the ex-don's hand.

"I guess I've just got a soft spot for kids," Bege shrugged with casual—and not exaggerated—indifference. "Somewhere in getting called 'father' all these years, I've thought about being a real one."

Hawkins watched him lead the boy away, his expression unchanging.

Indeed, totally unchanging. Anyone who implied that the Magician had a look of respect and/or approval at that was nothing more than a soon-to-be-suffering liar.

SLAM!

"AGH, SONNUVA—! HEY, WE GOT A RUNNER!"

Speaking of those destined to suffer…

Hawkins huffed a tired sigh as he flicked a nail at a blind corner, waiting patiently for it to strike the ground—"AAAAGH!"—and secure the runner's foot to the floorboard while he calmly sauntered around the corner.

A second later, one of the Law Pirates—'Penguin', his hat proclaimed—ran up and grabbed ahold of the would-be escapee, using one hand to shove them against the all while the other wiped at his bloody nose. "Ugh, piece of—thanks for that, magic man! Caught this charmer!" He emphasized the words by stomping on the nail, drawing a whimper of pain from his captive. "Trying to sneak out through a porthole with a freakin' slave! Ballsy, gotta give him that."

"Mmm," Hawkins noted. "I imagine our compatriots will find ripping said balls off quite… enjoyable."

"Y-You stupid pirates!" the still-struggling captive howled in both outrage and panic. "Don't you get it!? We've gotten away with this for this long because the law is on our side! Once they get to their ships, the port authority'll shut you down, and if you try fighting back, Marineford is right next door!"

Both pirates fell silent while they processed that statement before Penguin donned a bloodthirsty grin. "Oh, can we tell him? Please tell me we can tell him! I really love how the hope dies in their eyes when we tell them this bit!"

That drew a slight smirk from Hawkins. "Quite." He turned a gimlet eye on the prisoner, causing him to stiffen up. "I believe that you will find," the Supernova drawled emotionlessly. "That the local government is slightly preoccupied."

-o-

"We've finished securing all the corrupt elements and have them detained and awaiting arraignment, ma'am. All that's left is the man up top. Would you like us to finish this?"

"That won't be necessary, captain," Mrs. Libia answered, not breaking her stride through the halls of the Sabaody Regional Government's headquarters. "I'll be dealing with that man myself. For now, have your men maintain the perimeter and keep this quiet for as long as possible. I don't want word one of this to get out until it's too late for anyone to do anything."

"As you say, ma'am. And on a personal note… give him hell."

Libia's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Seven years' worth, captain. And you can believe I'm going to make him pay for each and every day of it."

It was with those words that Libia reached and shoved open the doors to the building's executive wing, striding into the heart of the local government with a squad of local officers—police officers, mind, not Marines—hot on her heels. The group's march through the offices went wholly unimpeded, thanks to the wing having been swept a few hours earlier, and as such were almost dead silent due to the sheer number of vacancies that had suddenly opened up that day.

'Almost' being the key words here. There was one last source of noise in the office complex: a muffled storm of bellowing, originating from the highest office of all. And it was in the direction of this very bellowing that the party was marching to.

The bellowing was almost loud enough to bother Libia and the officers when they reached the foyer before the head office. Only the governor's secretary remained outside, a professional, calm air around her contrasted mightily by the cold sweat on her neck and trembling frame. Hard to say if it was her boss's anger or Libia's entourage that was more to blame.

"Does he have a weapon?" Libia asked immediately.

The secretary swallowed and shook her head. "He's…" She looked up at the officers. "…never needed one before."

Libia nodded and looked over her shoulder. "Give me a minute, please," she said, receiving a nod from the head officer before stopping her ears, calmly opening the door—

"—HELL DO YOU MEAN 'INDISPOSED!?' WHAT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS!? GET ME THE CAPTAIN NOW, THESE PIRATE SCUM NEED TO BE HANDLED!"

"Maybe so, sir, but that doesn't change the fact that Captain Higuchi isn't available —"

"THE HELL HE ISN'T!" Prefectus roared, slamming his fist right next to the snail's head. "I PAY THAT MAN'S SALARY, HE'S AVAILABLE WHEN I SAY HE'S AVAILABLE!" The governor then snapped his gaze to the side with a sharp tsk. "But if he wants to spit on my years of generosity, then on his head be it, literally. Get me Lieutenant Kalsa at once, and tell him—!"

"Ahem," Libia coughed pointedly. "Mister Prefectus. A word."

"Now is not the time, Miss Libio!" Prefectus snapped at her, waving her off without even a glance her way. "And you will address me as Governor! We will have words about your lack of respect at a later date, but for now, get out of my office! And as for you, get me Lieutenant Kalsa and—"

"I believe I can save you some time by informing you that ex-Lieutenant Kalsa is also unavailable," Libia dryly informed the governor.

"…what was that?" the Governor grit out, slowly looking up at her.

"Along with Lieutenants, Sergeants and Corporals Kobayakawa, Daimon, Ooi, Zaveri, Stavish, Tuckerman…" Libia shrugged with feigned indifference. "Basically, everyone in the police force who was in your pocket."

Prefectus sputtered as Libia turned her attention down to the snail. "Officer, I will handle this, I apologize for the disturbance to your work. Please see that everything proceeds as discussed, if you will."

"Aye-aye, ma'am. We'll inform you of any developments as they arise."

"Good man," she nodded, and with that, she hung up.

By now, Prefectus was full-on glaring at Libia, looking fit to erupt. "Miss Libio," he grit out, his words undercut by the grinding of his teeth. "For your gross insubordination, you can consider yourself fired, effective immediately!" Prefectus slapped the side of his snail's shell with a fierce snort. "Dial Oyamada so I can tell him to draw up the paperwork, you—!"

"He won't pick up either, Mr. Prefectus."

The rising rant choked on its own bile when the bureaucrat found his glare being matched venom for venom, with Libia providing some extra toxicity of her own to spare. The fruitlessly ringing snail between them only gave her words more weight.

"You see, the reason you cannot contact Higuchi or Oyamada, is that they have both been arrested on charges of corruption," she coldly explained. "Funnily enough, the same can be said about the majority of the upper echelons of the Government. We had to go very far down the department hierarchies to find acting heads for them. You should really have kept a more open door, Mister Prefectus; if you had, you'd have noticed that there's hardly another soul in the building apart from you."

"You…" Prefectus echoed, his veins visibly pulsing. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, you two-beri number cruncher, but you should have kept your head where it belongs, down in your books counting MY MONEY!" He slammed his fist down on his desk. "I'll deal with this mess, and then I'll see you ruined, but for the moment, GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!"

"No, mister Prefectus," Libia said, glaring hellfire at her erstwhile superior.

"What did you just—?!" Prefectus began. Then he shook himself and, with a visible effort, pulled together a cold, professional demeanor. "Miss Libio, I am warning you for the last time. Get out of my office, or I can't guarantee you'll see tomorrow."

Libia's jaw set firmly, her temper fraying almost to the point of snapping, she nonetheless controlled herself enough to only glare harder. "First," she bit out. "For what I hope will be the final time I ever have to do this, my name. Is. Libia!"

The snarled correction was punctuated by a fist slammed onto the man's desk, and followed up by a thoroughly vicious grin. "And second, I very much do not regret to inform you that you no longer have the authority to do that, mister Prefectus."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" the rotund bureaucrat bellowed indignantly. "That's Governor to you, and I have the authority to do what I damn well—!"

"Actually," Libia cut him off, her grin turning venomous. "As of two hours ago, you aren't, and you most definitely don't."

Prefectus reeled back with a sputter. "W-What are you—?!"

Libia practically tore a document out of her pocket and slapped it—slammed it, really—down on the desk, shoving it forward for Prefectus to boggle at. "Remember when I said we'd confirmed new acting heads for all departments? At noon today, the Sabaody Regional Government conducted an emergency vote of no confidence, and by the final tally every single one of them have no confidence in you." Libia stepped back and raised her chin as Prefectus scrambled to pick up the paper and raked his eyes over it, analyzing it in nothing short of total panic. "Mister Prefectus, you are hereby relieved of your duties as Governor of the Sabaody Archipelago, effective immediately."

"T-This…" Prefectus wheezed, his face rapidly paling and panic setting in at the sheer gravity of his situation. "This can't be happening! T-This isn't happening! This is treachery! R-Rebellion! Revolution!"

"No, Mister Prefectus," Libia sniffed primly. "The word you're looking for is 'coup,' and you're on the receiving end of it. OFFICERS!"

To Prefectus's horror, the law enforcement officers that had shadowed Libia marched into the room and flanked the ex-number cruncher.

"Your orders, Acting-Governor Libia?" the lead officer intoned, pointedly ignoring Prefectus's panicked stammering.

The thus-named Acting-Governor jabbed her finger at her inglorious predecessor. "Arrest this man for bribery, corruption, gross incompetence, every one of the myriad crimes he's committed that you can think of, and get him out of my office."

At that, Prefectus seemed to get some composure back and grabbed the rifle hanging on the wall. The officers promptly tackled him to the ground, bound him up with cuffs, and then dragged him out, kicking and screaming. Libia took her seat behind the Governor's desk, triumph written over her features as he was dragged out and the door pulled shut.

…and the moment that it closed, cold fury gave way to cold sweat and hyperventilation.

"WhathaveIdonewhathaveIdonewhathaveIdoneWHATTHEHELLDIDIJUSTDO!?" was the gist of her panicked rambling, and it was all that she could manage to avoid outright screaming the words at the top of her lungs. Two women materializing from the shadows—specifically, one figuratively melting out of the shadows and the other literally coalescing and materializing from thin air—before her was only slightly calming.

"You're doing perfectly fine, Mrs. Libia, there's nothing to panic about," Vivi reassured the bureaucrat.

"Nothing to panic about!?" Libia wheezed. "I just confessed to a coup, I'm practically the only one still in this building, that fat bastard threatened to have me killed, and I just usurped a position that I'm not even remotely cut out for! I cannot keep this job!"

"And you don't need to," Robin pointed out, her 'sunny' disposition intact. "Or at least, not for very long. You only need to stay the course until the World Government is no longer able to interfere; in all likelihood, you'll be back to your previous position in a week, tops."

"And what if the World Government sends CP9 after me in the meantime!? Your crew was the ones who proved they're real and that the Government will send them out without a second thought!" the panicking bureaucrat bemoaned.

"They were also the ones who destroyed them, and they and I can and will do it again if we must," Robin calmly replied, filing her nails on the blade of her butterfly knife. "Any assassins that make it this far will meet their match against us. You'll never notice the knife ten inches from your neck, or the bullet narrowly grazing your—"

"Robin, stop speaking," Vivi groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as she waited for Libia's latest bout of hyperventilation to die down. Once her breathing evened out—and she was certain Robin's tongue was properly glued to the roof of her mouth—Vivi waved her arms as placatingly as she could manage. "And Libia, I promise you, without any incongruous morbid rambling—"

Vivi pointedly ignored the disembodied dope-slap she received at that comment.

"—that we will keep you as safe as we can until we're gone. By that point, all the blame for this will lie on our shoulders, and you'll be nice and forgotten." Vivi's gaze then sharpened intently. "But before all that, we need to do the thing that was the entire reason we put you in that chair in the first place, so if you don't mind…?"

Libia took a few seconds to gulp down calm some more, then nodded, this time with only a slight shake. "I… alright, alright, fine. Let's do this, then. What do you need from me?"

The Corsair Princess unfurled a document from her pocket and laid it out on the desk, proffering a pen to the Acting-Governor as she indicated a line at the bottom.

"All you need to do is sign at the X."

Libia nodded shakily, accepted the pen, and laid it to the paper. And then she froze, slowly looking up at the pirates with an expression laden with doubt.

"Can… I just note the irony, and perhaps more importantly the hypocrisy, of booting out my predecessor based on how frequently he accepted backroom deals and bribery, only to turn around and get in bed with pirates the literal second I take his seat?" she asked.

Robin cleared her throat and gave Vivi a look. Muttering darkly, the princess dismissed the command. "You do yourself a disservice by forgetting the context, Mrs. Libia," Robin stated. "Your predecessor accepted those deals for personal gain and actively ruined the lives of those he was obliged to protect. In comparison, what are potential outcomes for this as they pertain to you?"

Libia swallowed heavily and tugged at her collar, eyeing the paper like it was a venomous snake. "At worst? Execution or assassination. And not fast, either."

"And what potential personal gain do you stand to achieve from this transaction?"

"Well…" Libia glanced about uncertainly. "…chances are I'll get some new and less corrupt management now, and my job won't leave me wanting to bash my head in after I clock out…"

"You knew the stakes when we explained the plan," Vivi picked up, laying a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "You knew that there would be a high personal risk and negligible accolades in return for those risks. And yet you still went through with it. Why?"

Libia clenched her eyes shut, visibly trembling. But when she opened them, they blazed with the same fire that had gotten her recruited for this endeavor in the first place. "…because this will make the lives of others better. Because I personally believe in the righteousness of this cause. Because it's the right thing to do."

Vivi pushed the paper forward. "Sign here, here, and here."

This time, when Libia put her pen to the paper, she didn't put it down until the document was filled out in full. Vivi didn't waste a second waiting for the ink to dry, instead swiftly blasting the document with some warm air to lock the signatures in place before ripping the paper away and literally storming off through the building to get the document in front of a notary.

With the deed now done and her adrenaline spent, Libia slumped bonelessly in her seat, her mind awhirl as she processed once more what the hell she had just done. And in her state of semi-panic, she grasped onto one niggling doubt in particular and glanced Robin's way. "So you're sure the Marines won't try and kill me?" she whimpered.

Robin's response was to chuckle in a way that was both encouraging and yet entirely not. "Oh, you can rest assured, Acting-Governor; the Marines will find themselves even more preoccupied than they already were very soon."

-o-

"Those damned Straw Hats and their damned charisma have ruined my damned business!" a broken and bruised slaver raved, nearly wrenching his arm out of the sling it was in in the process. "They wrecked my store! Stole my merchandise! Stole all my hard-earned money! You need to get it back, damn it! What the hell do I pay you bastards for?!"

It should have been a surprise that the one acting as a sympathetic ear and shoulder to this man was blatantly clad in a Marine uniform, and especially since they were standing in a storefront with bloodstained chains and busted cages strewn about.

Tragically, to the inhabitants of Sabaody, it was anything but.

Just as it wasn't a surprise that while the commander of the Marine squad took notes on the destitute slaver's testimony, the rest of his squad stood guard around the store, ignoring all the blatant evidence strewn about with professional skill.

The commander nodded wordlessly through the testimony, right up until he heard the slaver's comment regarding his financing. At that point, the pencil snapped in the Marine's fingers and he fixed the slaver with a scathing glare. "The better question is, how do you intend to pay us now if you don't have any money left, HM?" the commander pointedly asked.

The slaver's ire swiftly melted into panic, the man stammering for a moment before affixing a fearful smile on his face. "W-Well, when I say they stole all my money, I-I only mean they stole what I had on hand! I-I still have plenty of funds s-stashed away offshore, I swear!" The slaver's cold sweat redoubled as the Marine's glare did the same. "A-A-And the funds they stole from me are all yours too, once you recover it, on top of my monthly payments!" A scowl spread over his face. "Just make sure you get my merchandise back to me so I can make up for the loss! Money I lose is money you lose too, you know!"

Grunting dismissively, the commander stored his notebook and turned to leave. "Yeah yeah, we'll see what we can do. It's not like you're the only one who got hit, you know." And with that he walked away, deliberately avoiding any eye contact with the evidence lying under his feet.

Once more, this total and purposeful ignorance was nothing that the inhabitants had not seen before.

"Hey, what are you all doing? That man is a slaver, we need to arrest—ow!"

"Shut up and take your cut, rookie."

A recently transferred Marine who had not yet been exposed to the corruption of his base having their illicit practices forced upon him. This was also nothing that the inhabitants had not seen before.

"…you two… you're actually going to—!? What the hell is wrong with you guys? Put your hands behind your back, you're—"

Ka-click-click-click-click.

Without a word or even a second glance, the commander walked on, ignoring his entourage as they drew and cocked their weapons, aiming straight at the man who had spoken up. All nothing even remotely new to the inhabitants, who had seen every step of this play out before.

But what happened next?

"KAMA-ITACHI!" SHINNG!

Yeah, that was new. One of the Marines sheathed her sword as she stepped over the firing squad she'd just cut down, and stood alongside the Marine who had been about to be shot, adjusting the surgical mask she was wearing. A small group of other Marines approached from outside the store, their apparent lack of attention discarded in favor of deadly focus.

"Nobody threatens my men but me," the masked Marine intoned venomously. "And speaking of; men, arrest these stains."

The Marines saluted, then got to work, grabbing and shackling their corrupt brethren before they had a chance to recover. Two of the men split off to grab and subdue the commander of the Marines, forcing him to his knees in spite of his protests, while two more shoved the slaver down alongside him.

"Rrgh, what are you even doing!? This is how things work around here!" the commander spat, struggling against the men holding him. "You think you'll be rewarded for this?! Newsflash, the Government doesn't care what these scum do as long as they pay through the nose for it, not one man in the entire garrison doesn't know that! You'll have your cut just like the rest of us if you stand down!" He then deepened his scowl with a vicious snort. "And if you don't, you can take it up with the Public Employment Security Office. Marines quit without warning every day, and they're always taking new applicants."

The masked Marine slowly turned to face him, the glare of the sun reflecting off her glasses. "Oh, is that so, commander?"

Before the corrupt Marine could respond, she reached up and removed her mask, revealing a face that every last one of the Sabaody garrison had memorized as a possible threat to their well-being and pocketbooks. This was someone who couldn't be swayed by any amount of money; as baffling as it was to the Sabaody Marines, she put her life on the line for altruism. And worst of all, she was good at it, too.

"No, no, don't stop there, you were on a roll," the recently dubbed 'Inquisitor' Tashigi said. "These backstreet deals, these applicants you mentioned… Tell me more."

The commander's jaw worked fruitlessly for a long moment before he clicked it shut. "Well, we're right fucked, aren't we?" he squeaked.

"As they like to say in Alabasta," one of the soldiers holding him chuckled grimly. "'Right in the down under.'"

"An understatement, if I have anything to say about it," Tashigi added, tapping Shigure's sheath in her palm. "But before all that, there's actually one other thing I want from you." She jabbed the tip of her sheath at the slaver. "The information to access your offshore bank accounts. You're going to tell me all of it."

While the commander's expression contorted in confusion at the distinctly off-character demand from the poster child for Marine integrity, the slaver had no such context, and as such just struggled harder.

"Y-You bitch! I'm not telling you a damn thing! That money is all I have left in the world! You call yourselves defenders of justice?! I-I won't give into this coercion! This-This brutality!"

Tashigi's gaze narrowed into a vicious glare. "Shocking how those accusations can come to mean not a damn thing depending on the subject." She then cocked her lips into a fiendish smirk. "And for the record, did I say 'tell?' I meant show. Take him out, Popora."

"KYUN!"

THWACK!

And neither of the criminals knew anything more.

-o-

Tashigi nodded proudly while her men dragged off the dazed and woozy Marines and slaver, all of whom would be having a rather difficult time remembering the exact details of what had just happened to them. But for all that Tashigi was pleased, there was still one thing she was fuzzy on, prompting her to direct a doubtful look at her even fuzzier subordinate.

"That was very well done, as usual, but…" She tilted her head at Popora. "Why did you hit the Marines too?"

"Kyuuuun," the rabbit-wolf sighed in a patient yet put-upon manner as he took out a notepad and scribbled something down. He then folded his ear-wings upon themselves as he showed Tashigi what he'd written—

"THEY HAD HOW MUCH MONEY!?"

—the better to weather Tashigi's shocked shriek.

One of Tashigi's men glanced over her shoulder at the sum and whistled. "Little fella must have dug out their own cuts of the take, too. Gotta admit, no matter what we say about it, crime really does pay, huh, ma'am?"

It took Tashigi a few seconds to recover, but once she did, she gained a savage grin of her own. "Well! In that case, I say we double down on what we were already planning, and pay all that out alongside the slavers' funds into the Divine's warchest." She slammed her fist into her palm with a determined nod. "Come on, men! Time for us to implement a new income tax."

The marines and wolf-dog all exchanged doubtful looks for a moment before waving their hands/paws in so-so gestures. "Meeeh…"/"Kyuuuun…"

Tashigi's head snapped around with a snarl, an inch of Shigure's steel clicking out of its sheath. "What was that?"

"N-NOTHING, LIEUTENANT TASHIGI, MA'AM!"/"Hrmmph…"

"That's what I thought! Now, move out!"

-o-

It made things a little more convenient with Gif and Soundbite jointly handling the SBS this time around, as it meant that Soundbite could focus on censoring the more secretive aspects of our conversation. Something that was especially vital when taking a breather. A Straw Hat-themed dive bar was good for security purposes, but when we had passionate enough fans to try reading lips and memorizing every whisper that came from them, the location lost a few points for being so blatantly fan-oriented.

"So, Pisces has started her end of things," I said, smirking but moving my lips as little as possible, feeling for all the world like a villainous mastermind. Which, let's be honest here, I kind of was by this point. Pity that I didn't have Lassoo with me; would have loved to complete the image by menacingly stroking my pet, but what can you do.

Well, I'd also need a better locale, because Straw Hat-themed or not, a dive bar was certainly not the best of locations in which to plot and enact master schemes of world-changing proportions. But hey, I was a pirate on a budget I didn't have much choice. Plus, again, it was a Straw Hat-themed dive and the owner was kind enough to let me use a table to plan while Kid moved on to hit other slave houses. I didn't exactly have room to be ungrateful. He was oddly familiar too, for a reason I couldn't quite place, but eh, it would come to me.

"And now let's see where we are…" I mused, counting down on my fingers. "Marines are about to get reamed, Vivi and Robin have stuck a stick of dynamite up this place's tailpipe and secured us the last hyper-critical piece we needed, we've hit a pretty high critical mass on the number of slaves we've freed, at least half of the pirates that have made it to the archipelago are getting in on the act… yeah, we're making good time here. Anyone need anything while I'm here?"

"Well, so long as you're asking…" Soundbite piped Urouge's inquiring voice in to me. "Is there any reason that we're not going after the Human Auction House, Cross? You said yourself that it's the biggest one, so—?"

"Yes, I did, and that's a major reason why we're not touching that place with a mile-long pole, because it's even bigger than you think," I snapped, spinning my finger to signal Soundbite to send my voice to all our allies. "We might have all thirteen Supernovas working together on this crusade of ours, but the Auction House is backed by one Warlord, and we Straw Hats have already taken out the only two Warlords on the roster who weren't New World-level strong. But hey!" I made sure my shrug was audible in my voice. "If you think you have a chance of fighting off Donquixote Doflamingo, take your shot. Sure, it's a toss-up on whether or not he'll give a damn, but I'm not planning on poking a dragon, even if he is occupied with other things."

I let the sheer gravity of that statement sink in… aaaand then I smirked.

"Oooor at least, I'm leaving it until we're running out of here like our rudders are on fire, once everything else is on fire behind us."

A collection of groans, both good-natured and goodly exasperated, rang out.

"One of these days, Cross, maybe I'll stop assuming that you have any good sense about who you provoke," Conis mused thoughtfully.

"You'll neeeever find out," Soundbite sneered.

"But for now, I'm about to give you all a big hint about which way my attitudes lean in that regard," I chuckled, pushing myself up from my table. "I'm going to polish off one last ploy I've got in store before we move on to the main event and blow literally everything up until now clean out of the water!"

"Ohoho, is that so? Do tell more, deary!"

I jumped and spun around in shock. The remark had come from one of the many characters hanging around the bar. A word that, in most cases, simply referred to the colorful individuals that were a dime a dozen in this world, and especially in this ocean.

The white-clad chemist woman—who either had tall, black, spiky hair or a hat that resembled the same and was wearing a pair of thick, tinted goggles—peering over from a nearby table where she was mixing several vials of pink liquid was not one of those cases.

"Ohohoh, do pardon my little interruption, Mister Cross," she crooned in a dulcet voice that brought to mind a thousand violins… being played by Luffy. "But I would love to know how you plan to outdo yourself with this!"

She swept herself up from her seat and spun about in a grandiose manner.

"First, gathering all of the most innn-famous pirates in this generation together and pointing them at the slavers—the nasty little slavers. Then you start robbing them of their resources and funds, which inspires other pirates to rob them of their resources and funds as well, box them in so that they can't leave the island, and manipulate the Marines and government to box them up in prison on top of that. And when it goes to court—"

She suddenly spun around and struck a pose. "AHAHAHA! They'll be smashed with the hammer of their own justice! It's brilliant, brilliant, BRILLIANT, I tell you! Genius, I say!"

A particularly exuberant gesture knocked over some of her vials, sending them crashing onto the floor. Nothing happened beyond a mess, which was strange because I could have sworn something was supposed to explode in this situation, and I could definitely hear the sounds of a detonation somewhere… oh, no, wait, that was just a spare vestige of sanity left in my head, my mistake.

"…THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER IN THE HISTORY OF EVER," Soundbite mumbled, adding onto my suffering.

"…silly me, got carried away there," the chemist simpered in an entirely too fake tone. "But anyway! Tell me what you're doing next! I need to hear your words!"

I fended off the creepy vibes she was radiating and returned to smirking menacingly. "Now, now, you'll have your answer along with everyone else before the day is out. Within the next couple of hours, even. No offense, but I'm not trusting anyone else with a preview of the midshow-showstopper for multiple reasons." I blinked as I ran what I'd just said through my head. "'Midshow-showstopper,' no, that's no good, I can do better than that…"

"HALFTIME H-BOMB?" Soundbite piped in.

"Ah, that works, thanks!"

The woman frowned but cast her arm over her forehead with an exaggeratedly put-upon sigh. "Oh, very well… all the best plans go awry if anything gets leaked, after all." She settled slowly back down in her seat, then looked at me again. "Incidentally, though, I'm a frequent patron of this bar. Any chance I could get a snapshot with you so I can prove that I met one of the Straw Hats in person?"

"Innocent question, you ever wonder WHAT TINNITUS SOUNDS LIKE!?"

"Sorry, sorry, two of the Straw Hats in person," she hastily revised before clapping her hands expectantly. "Now then, BARTENDER!"

"Uh, yeah, folks?" answered the suspiciously familiar bodybuilder-esque bartender, setting down a tray before us. "Anything I can help you with? Food? Drink? I offer a mean back rub if you've got the time!"

"Later, bartender, later," the chemist waved her hand dismissively, and before either of us could properly react, she'd tossed him a camera and draped her arm around my shoulders as she struck an extremely ostentatious pose. "For now, immortalize this moment, if you would please!"

I gave her a doubtful look before shrugging and donning my own grin as I flashed the camera a peace sign.

One flash and photograph signing later and I was turning around, all ready to book it—!

"Now then, darling…"

"HYERK!"

When out of the blue, the lady swung her arms around my neck and all but draped herself off of me with a way too toothy smile.

"Would you care to hear how else I can think of immortalizing this beautiful moment?"

Yeah, you can imagine that that froze me up but good.

In all fairness, the woman before me wasn't ancient like the counterpart she was giving me flashbacks of; I'd say she wasn't any older than 30 on the outside, and even quite attractive under the lab gear she was wearing. Unfortunately, I wasn't in much of a position to be slowed down by crazy stalkers (emphasis on crazy) today of all days and now of all times, and the flashes of what she could look like in my mind's eye weren't doing me any favors either.

So, acting on a whim that I hoped was well-founded, I plastered a shaky smile on my face as I reached behind me to a skull that was on display as part of a 3D jolly roger and grabbed one of its incisors.

"Actually," I chuckled semi-hysterically. "I'd rather immortalize this moment by pulling this lever!"

That got her blinking behind her goggles. "What lever—?"

THUNK!

"AAAHHH! WRONG LEveeeeer…!"

I was immensely grateful that upon yanking the tooth, the floor directly in front of me fell out from under the stalker scientist and sent her plummeting out of sight. I slumped forward and wiped my forehead with a sigh of relief. "Noooope, I'm pretty sure that was definitely the right lever."

I paused as a thought occurred to me, and I looked up curiously. "…why do you even have that lever?" I posed to the barkeep, immediately regretting my wording when my partner started busting another nonexistent rib.

The bartender scoffed and looked at me like I'd lost… even more of my mind. "Uh, hello? Episode 76, Usopp's lecture on—"

"The theory, implementation, and advantages of trapdoors, right right right, now I remember!" I chuckled, slapping my forehead in realization. "Well, as long as it works! Anyway, it's been fun and thanks for letting me hang out, but I've got to bounce! Halftime H-Bombs don't set themselves up, you know?"

"Oh, before you go!" He knelt down and brought up a steaming tray of oh damn it now it hits me. "Care to try some of the house special, my spinach puffs?

I deliberately allowed all emotion to drain from my face as Soundbite's howling crescendoed to the point where he actually keeled clean off my shoulder.

The man tilted his head in confusion. "IIIIs that a no?"

-o-

"Razza-frazzin' Cross, razza-frazzin' Sabaody, razza-frazzin'—!"

"Somethin' eatin' at you, daaarlin'?" a feline-looking individual sneered over his tuna casserole. "Is yer humble pie a wee little bit raw?"

"No no, it's the perfect temperat—RAGH!" the shirtless but jacket-wearing woman sitting across from the Mink snarled. Winding up like a fastball pitcher, she bounced her glass off his goggles, which did absolutely nothing to stop his cackling. "Kindly choke on a furball, hubby dear."

The cat-mink—A.K.A. Lindbergh, Commander of the Revolutionary Army's Southern Armies—chuckled and waved her off. "Ahhh, come on, Betty Boop—!"

The woman—A.K.A. Belo Betty, Commander of the East Army—twitched and shot a scathing glower at the screen the SBS was playing on. "One more thing to stuff that slimy pest down his owner's throat for…"

"Oh pish posh, come on, now!" Lindbergh scoffed, waving his hand but smiling ear to ear. "Tell ol' 'dear and darlin' Lindy—the cat one, not the badass lizardy one—your problems! Psh, come on, it's almost like you're, I 'unno, jealous of Cross or something! Zizizi!"

"…" Betty remained pointedly silent at that comment, glancing away from her cohort, her teeth digging into her lower lip.

Even behind his goggles, the widening of Lindbergh's eyes was plainly obvious. "…oh dear lordy, you are. The fact that it's entirely to our benefit is immaterial because he's a normie who's managing to blow your ability out of the water, isn't it?"

Betty still didn't say a word, but the way she guiltily glanced down at the table spoke volumes.

The feline mink's grin took on a more sincere air as he leaned across the table to place a comforting hand on Betty's arm. "Well, then, as your beloved friend, companion, and fake fiancée for the sake of this dinner…"

The Pump-Woman glanced up at her friend …

Who suddenly slammed back into his seat, howling with mirth with a fuzzy finger pointed at her. "ALLOW ME TO LAUGH EVEN HARDER! ZIZIZIZIZIIIII!"

"I WILL DROWN YOU IN THE SOUP, YOU MANGY—!"

With it being the Baratie and an arguing 'couple,' nobody was all that disturbed when Betty shot halfway across the table and did her level best to try and throttle her chortling 'friend.' Of course, it may have also had something to do with them having a VIP room to themselves.

The only witness to their fight was Zeff, who had taken it upon himself to deliver the dining cart with their orders personally. And even then he didn't actually see anything so much as he beheld his two incognito patrons sitting comfortably in their seats, slightly disheveled and a few (thankfully empty) plates rattling to a halt between them. He took one look at the completely comfortable and innocent 'couple' and barely kept from rolling his eyes.

"Everything alright in here?" he asked politely. As polite as Zeff ever was, anyway.

Lindbergh coughed and polished his knuckles on his jacket, grinning all the while. "Oh yes, everything's fine, the food is resplendent, my good man!" he crooned, pitching his voice into the most exaggerated, hoity-toity, and fake tone he could manage.

"Yeah. It's swell," Betty grit out in agreement, her twitching face clearly the result of a nervous tic, and not her heartfelt desire to stab something. Or one, as it were.

The head chef allowed himself a slight smirk as he pushed his cart forward. "Well, in that case, allow me to recommend our famous chili." Zeff's smirk deepened with a hint of an edge. "Local critics have rated it with five red flags."

The Revolutionaries' distracted animosity instantly vanished as they both snapped their full attention to Zeff. Lindbergh cocked his head to the side. "Maybe side it with some red lobster legs, hm?" he inquired piercingly, actually sounding serious for the first time that day.

Betty ground her cigarette in her jaws as she nodded in agreement with the cat-mink. "Yeah, and could you cook them here for us? We're particularly fond of dropping them in the pot and listening to them squeal."

The tension in the room ratcheted up for a good minute until Zeff smirked and gave them a nod.

"I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, enjoy your meal," he said before exiting the room.

Settling back into place, the two Revolutionaries fell into companionable silence for a minute, Lindbergh taking a bite of one of the best hamburgers he'd ever had while Betty sipped spoonful after delectable spoonful of ajoblanco.

But, as was par for the course for the more… influential people on the high seas, such peace simply could not be left to stand for long. Case in point…

"Not going straight for the marzipan?" the literal cat-person snickered, shooting his ally yet another cocky smirk.

"This is much harder to come across," Betty retorted, pointedly ignoring the jab in favor of the flavor of her soup, though not without eyeing the dessert platter nearby. "But you know, I figured it was only a matter of time before that happened."

"Oh, agreed on that front," Lindbergh nodded sagely. "Grand Line veterans are never pushovers, and the word on the street is really foggy about where and why Red Leg decided to pull out, sooo yeah, let's step lightly." He took a final bite to finish his first burger and then leaned back in his seat. "But anyway, where were we…"

Lindbergh snickered at Betty's prior emotional stormcloud snapping back into place. "Ah, right, your complete and utter upstaging! But, ah, seriously…" he coughed, his voice going down to the closest thing to sympathy he could manage. "Look, he's a rabble-rouser and kind of pushing on your schtick, I get that, but it's not that bad! I mean, c'mon… It's not like he's…" Lindbergh blew out a scoff as he rolled his hand dismissively. "I dunno, actually getting in front of a crowd and trying to start a riot."

"Attention, people of Sabaody Archipelago!"

The pair froze, and slowly turned their attention to the display, which now showed Jeremiah Cross… standing on a pile of crates… in front of a crowd.

Lindbergh slowly blinked and tilted his head. "… huh, would you look at that."

Both individuals present were now acutely aware of the steady spike in blood pressure one of them was now experiencing. The other, for his part, simply chose to ignore any semblance of good sense.

Which is to say, Lindbergh looked back at Betty with a perfectly innocent smile. "…ya know, maybe if you ask really nice, he could give you some tips or—?"

"THAT DOES IT!"

A blind man could have seen this result coming, yet Lindbergh made no attempt to dodge as Betty threw herself clean across the table—expertly avoiding the remaining food upon it in the process—and tackled him to the ground.

"Oh, honey, here upon the carpet! You're a beast, a savage—OW, WATCH THE WHISKERS, YOU TWO-BIT SOAPBOX PREACHER!"

-o-

The upper brass of the Government and Navy had anticipated that the Straw Hats would cause some damage to the Sabaody slave trade, but the sheer scale of the operation was far beyond even their worst-case scenarios.

Even so, the broadcast image of Cross literally standing on a soapbox (or, well, a soapbox on top of a sizeable mountain of crates, barrels, and other random debris) with a large, ever-growing, and eagerly attentive crowd around him should not have come as a surprise.

The thrice-damned snail munching on a spinach puff, on the other hand…

Cross took a second to clear his throat and redouble his nerves before starting again.

"People of Sabaody Archipelago!" he announced, speaking in a calm and measured voice that was highly amplified by the distinctly unamused snail on his shoulder. "Allow me to do away with the preamble by getting straight to the point: You all know who I am! You all know why I'm here, you know what my allies and I are doing… and you all probably know why I'm speaking to you now, and what I want to ask of you."

The crowd shifted in distinct discomfort, Cross' words heading into an area that was at once familiar and uncomfortable

Sensing how the mood was turning, Cross held up a placating hand. "I know why many of you are going to say no to what I ask. Why many of you have said no to endeavors like this in the past, and why none of you have ever tried this for yourselves. You'll say no, and you'll turn away… because it's not your problem."

Much of the crowd looked like they wanted to just walk away. But whether by reputation, inertia, or even a pricked conscience, none acted on that desire.

And Cross's next words ensured they would stay that way.

"And I get it!" the Anarchist reassured the crowd, earnest and honest compassion in his voice. "I understand! You all agree with us, agree with our cause, agree with what we're fighting for, but you have your own lives. Your own worries, your own hopes and dreams, your own lives. And if you help with this, if you stick your necks out and involve yourselves with this problem, then it will be your lives on the line, and you will be next. And I understand this, and I sympathize, truly I do…"

The crowd tensed, everyone knowing that there was a 'but' in there. And indeed, as Cross bowed his head and tipped the brim of his cap down, he didn't disappoint.

"But… the truth of the matter is that this is your problem, and it has been for a long time. And I'm not just talking about the soul-crushing guilt of seeing this evil eat away at your homes every damn day and not being able to do a thing about it, oh no! What I'm talking about is the fear you all live in, day after day, that this problem will eventually, inevitably come and involve you!"

-o-

"You can lock your doors, you can bar your windows, you can be as vigilant and as well-armed as you like, but each and every one of you lives in fear of the day where for one second, one instant you'll let down your guard… and lose everything. And it doesn't just have to be you. A friend, a family member, even an acquaintance. Any time, anywhere, so long as this threat exists, everything you know is in mortal danger. Just one glance away, just one moment… and it will be gone."

Cross's shrug was transmitted worldwide by way of his broadcast, as was his sorrowful grimace. "And you know that it will be the moment you look away because no one else is looking for you. Everyone else is too concerned with their own lives, and those who are supposed to be watching for you refuse to do so, either because they've been given explicit orders not to, because they're benefitting from it, or they couldn't be made to give a damn either way."

In a bar in Loguetown, a brace of uniformed Navy officers off-duty had their mugs snatched from their hands. They looked up, two seconds from tearing whoever had interfered with their drinking a new orifice, only to choke up when they saw that it was the bartender himself giving them a level glare.

"The tap. Is closed," he all but snarled, and with his hand under the countertop, it was very clear that this wasn't up for debate.

The Marines reeled back at the amount of venom in the once kindly man's voice, and in the process noticed just how much unwelcome attention they were receiving the other patrons. Glares, snarls, they ran the gamut of unkindly expressions.

"H-Hey!" the least senior of the group of soldiers tried to protest, desperately looking around for any form of support. "C-C'mon guys, are you seriously—? Look, even if Cross isn't ly—er, I-I mean… what I'm getting at is that you know us, we're not like those guys! We're not with them!"

"Oh, really?" another patron sneered, not even bothering to look their way. "In case you've all forgotten, you're wearing their colors. So, you tell us… how, exactly, are you not with them?"

The rookie made to protest but was silenced by one of his seniors dropping a hand on his shoulder. The new recruit took one look at the head shake the older Marine shook gave, and didn't protest when the squad shuffled out of the bar and down the street.

By now, the officers of the Loguetown garrison could only ignore the increasingly hostile attitude among the civilian population. They had done nothing to earn it and were well aware of that fact; Smoker and Tashigi had been particular about ensuring trustworthy officers were left in charge of Loguetown, even if they weren't Masons… yet.

Yet, it was increasingly clear that Cross was breaking the world's faith in the entire Navy. And there wasn't much they could do to address it besides hunkering down and doing their jobs right.

A line was being drawn in the sand. And sooner rather than later, it would come time to pick a side.

-o-

"So yes. No matter how much you try and turn away from it, this evil is your problem. But now, a different issue presents itself." Cross spread his hands out, gesturing to the crowd. "'How can I possibly help? How can I make a difference? After all, we're just civilians; no skills, no strength, while they have weapons and they can fight. No chance at all…'"

The pirate's eyes sharpened, and his expression grew more severe.

"Well, let me tell you, you are dead. WRONG!" The last word roared, even by his elevated volume's standards, and the heat behind it struck a chord in all those watching. "These people might be stronger, might be better armed, but I'll tell you what, they're not better motivated. These people, they fight for greed. They fight for wealth, personal gain, and nothing else. But you…"

Cross's eyes flashed over the audience as he stepped forward, alighting with particular attention on every hand that bore a wedding band and every child that lingered with their parents. And he could see the fire beginning to form in the eyes that looked back at him.

"You all fight for something far more important than that!" Cross pumped his fist heavenward, charging his voice—and their spirits—even more. "You fight for your lives! You fight for friends and family, for those who were lost and those you could still lose. And most important of all, you fight for your HOME! For two hundred years, Sabaody Archipelago has been forced to suffer under the cancer of slavery! For two hundred years has the home you built, with blood, sweat, and tears been stolen from you, twisted into a living nightmare for all who pass through it!"

-o-

"For two hundred years, any traces of your past relations with your aquatic neighbors have been ground into the dirt and abused, and you've had to watch in silence, for fear of being ridiculed, or worse, attacked for defending them! Well I'm asking you, here and now, are you willing to live like that for even one second more? I SAY, NO!"

The denizens of the deep, of all ages, heard to the ongoing speech. It did not escape them that a large force of royal guards had gathered around the area, probably to prevent any outbreak of violence.

With a certain whale-shark fishman present to organize things, it was a stout impediment to any trouble from Cross's speech.

"This is your home, these are your lives, and they. ARE NOT. WELCOME! Here and now, it is time to make a stand! Time to cast off the chains of fear, of doubt, and put these bastards in their place! Time to stand strong, stand firm, and say, once and for all, NO!"

And the Warlord's presence served to deter other forms of obstructions as well, something that came in handy when he suddenly stiffened and glowered at a perfectly innocuous patch of ground.

Innocuous, anyway, until he planted a sandal on said patch of ground's throat and pressed hard enough to damn near crush its windpipe, prompting the patch to drop its camouflage and scramble frantically for an escape.

"I-I-I let you discover—hork!" Zeo's protest was cut off by more pressure and Jinbei's bone-rattling snarl. "I-I mean… I just wanted to sneak some free concessions?"

Jinbei scoffed and took his sandal off the wobbegong fishman so that he could grab him by his throat instead, hauling him back into a stance that had Zeo scrambling all the more desperately.

"If you're that desperate to watch your pathetic perversions of my crew's hopes and dreams burn to the ground," Jinbei bit out. "Then you can go back to Hody and do so…"

Jinbei flung his arm out, sending Zeo flying way up and far out of sight.

"BACK IN THE PIT YOU CRAWLED OUT OF!"

"Aaaand… aww, no twinkle, la-ti-do~!" groaned Ryuboshi, though he smiled the whole time.

"I've really gotta stop you from listening to Soundbite's 'Happy Fun Time Copyright Infringement Hour.' It's giving you unrealistic expectations, akkamanbo~!" chortled Manboshi, grinning just as much.

-o-

"Will it be dangerous? Yes. Will people be hurt? Undoubtedly. Will some of you give your lives for this?…I won't lie; there is every chance of it. After all…"

Most of the world winced as Cross slid one of his gauntlets off and unwound his bandages enough to flash his bare arm, reviving some very disturbing memories for the people who'd heard him acquiring it live.

"I've felt it firsthand," Cross nodded solemnly as he rewound his bandages. "I've stared death in the face more than once, and I've rarely come away from it unscathed. It hurt when I got these scars, and they can still hurt sometimes. I've been lucky, and some of you may not be."

The rabble rouser's eyes then shone, not with the grave, solemn light of defiance from before, but rather the blaze of absolutely righteous fury that had made him famous. "But in the same breath, I guarantee, I GUARANTEE!" Cross roared once more. "That if you shy away now… if you back down now… then now and forever, you will regret it. Every time you see someone in chains, someone suffering under the yoke of slavery, you will come back to this moment and find yourself asking-" Cross pointed straight at both his audiences. "'Could I have done something? Could I have stopped that? Could I have made a difference?' And it. Will. Haunt you."

"You might die if you fight… BUT I TELL YOU THIS!" Cross bellowed, the moment emphasized as if by divine intervention via a ray of sunlight bouncing off the bubbles and giving him a celestial spotlight. "HERE AND NOW, I TELL YOU, IT IS BETTER TO DIE! If you must choose, then rather than live forevermore on your knees as a slave, then it is better to die on your feet! Die kicking and screaming, fighting to the last, for that which you believe in!"

-o-

Across the world, the vid-snails flashed new images from across the Archipelago.

"And so here I stand. Begging. Pleading. For one thing. For just. One. Thing."

The Corsair Princess stalked through the archipelago, a concentration scowl on her face. A forceful thrust of her palm and a firing line of mercenaries flew into the drink. A crushed mini-twister in her palm and a large ship trying to draw a bead on her crumbled beneath a cyclone. And a blade clean through her back and out her chest didn't even warrant a glance, merely a snap of her fingers that bounced the would-be stabber off the nearest wall with a nasty crunch of bone.

"Fight. Here and now, please help us. Please…fight."

The White Menace was in the process of guaranteeing herself a future lecture on ammo conservation, cackling and taunting all the while. The only break in her blasting was when a would-be rogue tried to sneak up on her, which prompted her to stop just long enough to swing around and utterly brain the sneak with her gun's still-rotating barrel.

"Fight for liberty: your own and those who've lost it!"

The Cyborg stood with a ferocious grimace, his wide stance intercepting every bullet aimed at the newly freed people behind him, then blowing flames from his lips once the shooting ceased. He flexed, letting the few bullets that had sunk in fall to the ground before rearing back his right hand and slamming the shooters to the ground with a Strong Right.

"Fight for equality, so that you may never be crushed again!"

The Devil Child held a man bound by a dozen arms, two of his fingers already clearly broken and slave after slave being freed behind her thanks to other arms unlocking their restraints, one way or another.

"Fight for brotherhood—for fraternity—because when one of us suffers in chains, we all suffer as one!"

The Sniper King crouched on a bubble bike at the highest point he could manage, a frown of concentration plastered on his face as he fired off Star after Star, supporting his allies on all sides from the best position he could be.

-o-

"FIGHT!" I screamed, I demanded, I begged the crowd, hoping against all hope—inches away from outright kneeling and praying—that they would listen, that they would please, please, please listen. "FIGHT! SO THAT THESE RIGHTS MAY NEVER BE STRIPPED FROM YOU, OR ANYONE ELSE, EVER AGAIN!"

I expected the silence that followed; righteous mobs needed buildup, more than just the one speech. I waited, not letting my expression give an inch, as the seconds ticked on… and on. All I needed was one person to start yelling from within the crowd to get things going, someone to take the first step. And I really didn't want to use Soundbite to fake it, because with my reputation there was a good chance I could get called on it… but damn it, if there was no other choice…

As it approached a full minute of silence, my resolve started to waver, and I was about to twitch my finger for Soundbite to spark things off…

When I heard it.

"LIBERTY! EQUALITY! FRATERNITY!"

I had no other response than to sag in relief. I had him. Just one person, yelling at the top of his lungs. Hell, the guy literally rose above the crowd, presumably standing on a crate or something as he echoed my (honestly off the seat of my pants, got a bit caught up in the moment there) chant.

Then, just as I knew… or at least had hoped would happen…

"L…Liberty… LIBERTY! LIBERTY! EQUALITY! FRATERNITY!"

"LIBERTY! EQUALITY! FRATERNITY!"

"LIBERTY! EQUALITY! FRATERNITY!"

The whole crowd started to join in: thousands, literally thousands of people cheering and chanting, pumping their fists as the flames of revolution ignited in their souls. It was that sight, that blessed, awe-inspiring sight, that finally allowed me to let a smile of bloody euphoria plaster itself on my face. Now, after months of running a pirate-protest (protest-pirate? Whichever) radio show and leading the world in raging against the global-scale machine, I thought I knew what a rush was. But this?

This was a feeling that I had never even come close to knowing until now.

And hell, I wouldn't have even gotten this far if it wasn't for… huh, who did I owe this all to, anyhow? Because for all that I had faith in the human spirit, I doubt it was any normal person who'd be able to stand up like that.

So, using the cover of the crowd's ignited fervor, I worked my way through the throngs toward the spot Soundbite had identified as the start of it all. The individual responsible, as it turned out, was a familiar face. Well… not for me, but the grizzled mug giving me a toothy grin and his bush hat rung some damn familiar bells.

"Jeremiah Cross, you are without a doubt the craziest son of a Sea King this half o' the Red Line," the old-timer chuckled, thumbing the brim of his hat. "But heeeell if you're the only one! Y'know, if it weren't for those two friends of yours talkin' to my crew and me earlier, I may not have bothered to give you a split second a' my time!"

"Two friends…" I repeated, trailing off as I ran the possibilities through my head. Then I blinked in surprise. "So you are Bomoss then?"

"Damn straight," he answered, his grin showing more teeth than humor now as he clapped a hand on my snail-free shoulder. "We might be scumbag criminals, but it hurts to admit that it took you and yours to help remind us that this is our home too. Even we've got standards, and damn it, when the day comes that a tourist is making sense like that… well, I figure that if overthrowin' this order needs to come from where nobody expects?" He cackled and thumped his fist against his chest. "Then that's where it'll come from!"

I chuckled at that before nodding in agreement, smacking my right hand on his shoulder. "And you can be sure we're all grateful for it, Bomoss. Welcome to the fight!"

Bomoss nodded gratefully at the gesture, then… looked at my arm in surprise? No, wait, not my arm, my shoulder, my patch. "A fight it looks like you've already labeled, huh?" he said more than asked, pointing out the tricolor I was wearing. "That doesn't look none too random, but it ain't no flag I've ever seen before. Wassit mean?"

I briefly hesitated to answer—both because I wasn't expecting the question and because I needed a tic to put an answer together—but once I had my response straight, I pointed at the colors. "Blue, the Liberty of the ocean, vast and unrestrained; white, the Equality of living under the same sky, free and clear; and red, the Fraternity of sharing the same blood, no matter who or what you are or where you're from."

Bomoss gave the patch an intent once-over before nodding proudly. "Oh yeah, that's a roight beaut of a symbol right theyah! And if you don't mind," he chuckled and waved his hand, the gesture bringing a few ruffians closer to him through the crowd. A few whispers to them had their expressions snapping to slasher grins, and he laughed as they all darted off. "I think we'll be taking it for ourselves! Get ready to see a lot more of those colors around, mate!"

"Hooooo, BOY! LOOKS LIKE I'VE gotta start putting some TDs together!" Soundbite crowed.

"Take whatever lyrics he throws at you with a few grains of salt ready to pelt him in the face," I deadpanned.

"NYEEEEEH!" Soundbite whined obnoxiously. "Aaaanyway, I'm gonna go ahead and start barking out the marching orders to GET THIS PARTY TRAIN A-ROLL—gyeep!" The snail suddenly cut himself off with a choked gurgle, eyes suddenly wide in a very unhelpful combo of shock and terror. "Uhhh, sorry, passengers, a slight change of plans: the 10:30 express to revolution WILL BE EXPERIENCING A DELAY DUE TO THE TRACKS BEING obstructed."

I gave Soundbite a side-long deadpan look. "What in the hell are you babbling ab—?"

"ATTENTION, CITIZENS OF SABAODY!"

My head bounced, both from the sheer volume of the voice that blasted over the crowd, and the sizeable sweatdrop I was suddenly sporting. "Yeah, no, nevermind, I see what you're saying. Give me a second to get an eye on things…" I looked around real quick, searching for some sort of vantage point I could find to look over the suddenly tentative crowd. And then my eyes fell on Bomoss.

"Hey, old-timer, how strong are you?"

"Eh? I'm pretty tough, but what's it matter to—GAH! HEY, WATCH IT!"

Well, good-news-bad-news time: Good news, I could now mark 'clambering up and over someone so that I could stand on their shoulders' off my bucket list, sooo that was a plus, though Bomoss swearing and cursing under me kind of ruined the moment a bit. Probably didn't help that I'd planted my foot on his hat to keep my balance, I'll admit…

Bad news? The crowd had been stopped in its tracks by a fucking firing line. And I don't mean a firing line of mercs, that would have been easy to steamroll. No… I mean a line of white and blue. Marines, stretched across the root we were on and blocking the paths to other groves. They didn't have their guns leveled at anyone, no, but the sight of a full squadron of Marines in shoulder arms position was intimidating enough to do the job.

And the jagoff of a commander in the front with a bullhorn wasn't helping things either.

"CITIZENS OF SABAODY!" Jagoff bellowed, regarding the crowd with an almost bored intensity. "You are currently violating Section 2101 of Title 18 of the W.G Public Ordinance Code! This is an unlawful and unruly gathering! Mass rioting is punishable by incarceration and 15 years in prison, and we have authorization to use lethal force if you refuse to comply! By order of Fleet Admiral Sengoku, disperse immediately! I repeat, disperse immediately!"

"Ssssonnuva—!" I cursed under my breath. "How the hell did they get here so fast!? That battleship Komei left behind to guard this place is nowhere nearby!"

"Ssssstarting to think that those INSIGNIFICANT FISHING BOATS I HEARD DOCKING a grove away WEREN'T as insignificant as I originally thought…" Soundbite coughed uncomfortably. "ON A MARGINALLY RELATED NOTE, WE'RE FUCKED AREN'T WE?"

"As they say in Alabasta—!" Bomoss grumbled from beneath me.

"There is no way they'd actually fire into a crowd…" I muttered to myself.

"Do you have any bloomin' idea how many other crowds have said those exact words before shite went tits up?!" the smuggler I was using as a makeshift ladder demanded. "Look, you daft gob, in case you haven't noticed, this is about to get real bloody real fast, so let's get out of here fast before—!"

"No, you don't get it!" I interrupted, my brow furrowed in intense thought and disbelief. "I mean there is literally no chance on this planet that Sengoku would have given those orders, or that he would let anyone stupid enough to claim he did within a mile radius of this archipelago. The Marines' reputation is running on a shoestring budget as it is, and this entire shitshow is nothing short of sociopolitical suicide! They can't even afford to touch Paradise's Public Enemies numbers one through fourteen when we're right on their front porch, so they shouldn't even be able to sneeze in the direction of civvies! Why the hell are they—?"

My brain froze as everything I knew hit me at once and the pieces clicked together, which prompted me to sloooowly don a vicious grin.

"…oh. Ooooohohohoh, so that's how it is…" I chuckled, nodding with grim respect. "Well, I'll be damned, that is either the cleverest or stupidest thing they could have done, and for the life of me I can't tell which…"

"Care to share, mate?"

"DITTO, I CAN HEAR A LOT OF THINGS but not if you don't actually say it!"

I looked at my companions and told them what I had realized. They matched my expression as it sunk in.

"Ya know, I think that lot's closer to stupid because you're the one who's closer to clever," Bomoss chuckled. "Aight, I'll spread the word around, keep morale up and all. Oh, and while you're handling those gobs, maybe GET OFF ME HEAD!"

"GAH!" I yelped in shock on account of that particular exclamation being punctuated by Bomoss shrugging me off his shoulders and onto the cold, unforgiving—well, actually the ground was soft and moist because of the moss, but still!

Bomoss was perhaps a tad too smug about that, but since he was spreading the word and the march wasn't losing any intensity or people despite being ground to a halt, I could let it go.

"Citizens!" the lead jagoff repeated. "I repeat, disperse at once and return to your homes! We are authorized to use lethal force if you continue with your noncompli—GUH!" Jagoff's tirade collapsed into a gurgle of shock, probably due to the niiiice and shocking sight of me walking out of the crowd and straight up to him.

I kept my face neutral as I walked right up to him, completely unfazed by the many, many soldiers who all wanted me dead, as well as the many, many weapons they were ready to kill me with. They couldn't miss if they tried, and I couldn't escape if I wanted to.

Yet still, they were more scared of me then I was of them.

"…well?" I asked patiently, Soundbite doing me the favor of bouncing my voice to the rest of the surrounding onlookers. "I'm showing noncompliance, I'm a wanted criminal, and you have the permission to use lethal force. So… force me."

The Marines collective composure started to crack, and most visibly at that; here a little trembling, there a little sweating, and everywhere a decided lack of gunshots.

The commander was a particularly nervous example, taking a shaky step forwards and pressing the barrel of his flintlock pistol between my eyes. "You are outnumbered," he grit out, doing a rather impressive job of keeping the shudder in his voice hidden. "Outgunned, and way out of your league. Surrender, now."

I narrowed my eyes at him and pressed my head against the barrel of his gun as I made a single request.

"Make me."

That took the wind out of the commander's sails, and both his eyes and gun started to shake furiously.

I immediately plastered a pleasant grin on my face. "Here, let me help you with that." And before the Marine could react, I snatched his pistol out of his grip, pressed it to the side of my temple, and pulled the trigger—

CLICK.

—with absolutely no result, as the suddenly deathly silent crowd all heard.

My expression once more utterly unimpressed, I shoved the weapon back in his hands, forcing him to stumble back and scramble to avoid fumbling it. "A word of advice," I commented dryly, my every word—and likely the crowd behind me—sending the line of Marines into terrified retreat. "The next time you point a weapon at someone and try to tell them what to do? Find the balls to load your guns."

And with that, I ignored the panicked babbling of the worthless boob so that I could turn back to the crowd and pump my fist in the air. "PEOPLE OF SABAODY!" I bellowed, Soundbite ramping my voice up once more.

I then leaned forwards and donned the absolute best slasher grin I could manage.

"Let's go wreck some shit."

Aaaaaaand that just about did it. The crowd bellowed their furious agreement back at me, and as one, stampeded through the now-defunct firing line. As they went, not one person touched any of the Marines. After all, why would they? It wasn't like they were a threat to anyone anymore.

I chuckled and thumbed the brim of my cap as the mob raged past us, and I shot a smug look at Soundbite. "Well! I don't know about you, but I think that went well."

Soundbite's only response was to just laaaaaugh and laugh.

-o-

"Where in the hell did they get a cannon?" muttered a sharp-dressed redhead in blue and red as bullets pinged off the overturned cart he was using for cover.

While the Supernovas were doing most of the damage to the slave economy of Sabaody, there had been a great many other pirate crews present on the archipelago, either awaiting a coating job or equally blocked from leaving the place by the blockade to keep pirates out. The Phoenix Pirates, led by this man, were of the latter persuasion. With the conclusion of the previous SBS, they had been gung-ho about returning to Fishman Island and, from there, the New World. But the minute that the SBS revealed what the Supernovas were up to, they jumped at the chance to repay the Straw Hats for helping them and strike a good payday in the process.

Like many others, however, they were finding that slavers could defend themselves surprisingly well given a little warning.

The slave house had only a single entrance, and they'd heavily barricaded that entrance as well as the front wall. Every slaver inside had a gun, and while their fire was more enthusiastic than accurate, in confined quarters, enthusiasm counted more.

And they had a cannon. A cannon that roared and shredded another wagon nearby, sending his crew scurrying for new cover.

"Pretty sure it's a wooden cannon, Cap'n," muttered his crewmate Jiro, also huddled behind the wagon. "Certainly got no shortage of powder and bullets."

Puzzle bit out a curse. He was good with a chain, good enough to catch bullets on the links. But dozens? In a narrow cone? No way in hell.

"Right. Well, I'm open to ideas about how to take it out," he said.

Then he heard the chanting.

"What in the sweet…" he muttered, lifting his head up and looking down the street. His eyes widened, and he paled slightly. That was a mob. No pitchforks, but plenty of torches, and frankly the diverse array of sharp and blunt objects they were carrying weren't much better. "Oh, boy."

"Maybe they're here for the slavers?" Jiro offered.

"Maybe. Still, tell the rest of the crew to get ready to bug out if that crowd goes for us."

Jiro nodded and scampered away, crouched low, as Puzzle continued to watch the crowd.

The wait as the crowd came closer was agonizing. Minutes felt like hours. But only a couple of buildings away, the front began to jog right towards them. Puzzle tensed… and then the crowd veered hard left and went straight at the slaving house.

"Oh, no…" Puzzle breathed, eyes wide at what was about to happen.

The cannon roared, and so did every gun in the store. The entire front rank of the mob melted.

…And then the rest were pressing up against the wall and the open door, hammers and crowbars and a few hand axes going to work. Another volley rang out, and more people fell, but the ones behind simply grabbed up the tools and went back at it.

There was also an almighty bang and screams of pain from inside.

"The cannon!" Puzzle realized, shooting to his feet. "Men! Attack!"

Not waiting for a reply, Puzzle dove towards the shop, the crowd parting in his wake, and he let out a roar of exertion as he lashed his chain into the barricade with the force of a sea train at full speed.

It was all over in a matter of minutes. Vicious, hectic, and exceedingly brutal minutes, but minutes. After all, without their artillery emplacement to keep their attackers off their backs, the mercs were still nothing but slaver scum, and thus no match for real pirates.

Once matters had mostly settled down and he had a chance to catch his breath, Puzzle stepped aside and stared in bewilderment. The crowd of civilians, of all things, was in the process of ransacking the store, stealing everything that wasn't nailed down, applying crowbars to the stuff that was, and freeing any slaves they could find.

"Someone want to tell me what I'm looking at here?" he asked nobody in particular, not really expecting an answer.

Hence why he jumped almost a foot in the air when the thin air gave him one. "THAT, MY FRIEND, WAS THE START OF THE SLAVE INDUSTRY'S BAD DAY GETTING EVEN WORSE. Oh, and don't worry, those injuries look worse than they are. TURNS OUT THAT FACING DOWN A CHARGING MOB throws your aim off something fierce! Who knew, right?"

Puzzle took a second to process that before shaking his head dismissively. "So the explanation is 'act of Straw Hats, just roll with it,' got it. Well, if that's everything—"

"YEAH YEAH, RETURN TO YOUR USUAL LOOT—EH? … crap. Alright, return to your usual looting if you want to, but if you can, maybe see about swinging back towards our staging grounds at Grove 77. THINGS ARE STARTING TO GET… TENSE THERE."

-o-

'Fiendish' Foxy had not been this fatigued since his mano a mano with Luffy, and his crew was starting to feel the strain as well.

The combat itself wasn't the problem, not really. Under normal circumstances, his crew could handle it just fine. But fighting and supervising a timid, unkempt, and not in the least fit to fight sea of individuals? That put a hamper on their abilities.

As such, they had opened the book on war tactics and acted accordingly.

On one side of the Foxy Pirates' captain were the escaped slaves. It was, simultaneously, both a very inspirational and very depressing sight. The grove's landscape had been transformed into a sea of both hastily erected tents and huddled, frightened bodies. There were a few dozen appropriately trained pirates and miscellaneous volunteers milling through the crowd, providing what comfort they could to the recently emancipated souls. On its own, the situation would have been difficult enough to deal with, given just how many people needed help, as well as the sheer variety and intensity of their injuries and traumas…

KRA-KOOM!

Foxy winced, scowling as he shifted his head the other way. But then, the situation was even worse than that, wasn't it…

Erected on Foxy's other side was a massive wall of debris. Anything they could get their hands on. Stone, dirt, wood, metal, they'd even dismantled a few buildings. Small ports had been cut in the barricade to allow the pirates to fire out without getting winged by a bullet, and a few small mortars that Foxy had… appropriated back when he'd been in the Blues were helping keep the Marines' heads down. The fact that Cross's weapon-hound was scampering back and forth across the top of the barricade and blasting out a few choice lobs of his own helped, too.

Further out beyond that, on the other side of the root to the nearest grove, the Marines had pulled out their shovels and dug in, creating a full trench line with a two-foot berm in front. Rifle-armed soldiers manned the line, and they'd hauled up a few cannons to take potshots at the barricade. Not many—Sandersonia, Koala, Duval, and Funkfreed's collective efforts had them moving after every shot—but enough to keep the pirates' heads down.

The closest thing to a break that the captain had was providing a sitrep with the newly arrived commander of the whole operation… who, regrettably, hadn't brought much with him in the way of reinforcements.

"Foxy, how are things looking?" Cross started immediately, while his slimier half's attention was… basically anywhere within his mile-radius that wasn't there at the moment, but given the situation, that could be excused. More importantly…

"Not good, Cross," Foxy huffed, gesturing for Cross to walk with him as they continued his patrol along the perimeter. "As you can see, we're holding things together, tending to the ex-slaves' injuries, trying to keep them calm—"

BOOM!

The Slow-Man flinched as another cannon shot landed, demolishing part of the barricade. However, Foxy noticed that while Cross did react to the explosion, it was by glaring at the blast with what could only be described as contempt. At this point, he wasn't sure if it was from confidence, foolishness, or both.

"…probably both," Foxy muttered.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

"Nothing, just thinking out loud," Foxy waved him off. "But as I was saying, that isn't helping with the whole 'keeping the peace' thing. There are a lot of Marines and mercenaries lined up out there. So far, they haven't made any serious pushes that we haven't been able to push back; your allies and weapons have been useful on that front."

"Hi Cross, bye Cross!" Lassoo barked as he leaped past above them, the aforementioned tactician giving him a casual salute in passing.

"Anyway, all they've been doing is lobbing fire and such, a lot of saber-rattling and warning shots, but they haven't actually broken out their heavy artillery yet. The threat to either the civilians or the merchandise—depending on who you ask—is keeping them in place. But—!"

Foxy winced at a sudden bout of shouting from the camp. It was hastily shushed down, but the fact that it had happened at all…

The split-headed captain groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cross, it took me a bit to figure out why they're focusing their efforts on only one bridge to this grove, but breaking the barricade is only their second priority. They're trying to get the civilians scared, and it's working. The idea of fighting the Marines themselves is getting spread about. And we both know how badly that would end, this close to Marineford."

Foxy began grinding his teeth, half out of terror and half out of sheer frustration.

"You may have dismissed the unarmed jackasses as no threat—and you're right, the slavers' mercenaries are only really a threat now that they're coordinating with the Marines—but if people start to riot, if the Marines can muster up even a half-baked excuse—!"

"I know, Foxy, I know," Cross cut in, silencing him with a raised hand. "Just… just keep it peaceful."

Foxy was about to snap back with a snide remark (what the hell did he think Foxy was here for?) before he noticed the look on Cross's face.

Now he, like many others across the world, had seen many different expressions from the rabble-rouser's visage, from incensed rage to mad grins to genuine sorrow…

But that look—the look of raw, determined resolve—was none of those.

Faced with that look, Foxy's retort died in his throat.

"…I hope that this 'out' of yours is as good as you think it is, Cross."

That solemn expression didn't shift an inch. "As good, if not better, Foxy. Now go."

Foxy nodded slowly, reassured by Cross's composure, and returned to the fray, a beam sword of slowmo photons materializing in his hand. As soon as his line of sight was beyond Cross's, the latter allowed his desperation to show, raking his steel-clad fingers through his hair.

"Vivi, please tell me that things are on track, because we're running out of time."

"Everything on our end is finished, and we've regrouped at the Government Building to escort Libia. We've caught a ride with a few Flying Fish Riders to reach you faster, so we'll be there in minutes," Vivi responded, sounding like she was gnawing on her thumb. "And I just heard from them; communications are cut off now, of course, but as soon as they're ready, you'll be the first to know. But in terms of getting here, their route is proving… troublesome."

Cross slapped his palm to his forehead with a groaning growl. "Because getting from there to here is no cakewalk, even for them, right, damn it…"

"In all fairness to them, you did kind of pull the trigger on this out of the blue—"

"Are you really starting this with me?!"

"Just commenting. Anyway, all I can suggest is that you stall for a little longer. I'm sorry, Cross."

"Ggrgrghh…" Cross continued rubbing his scalp even as he signaled for Soundbite to drop the feed. "OK… alright, maybe if I flank them and draw attention to myself, I can divert their attention for a few minutes. If I take Lassoo and Funkfreed, might even be able to keep them occupied long enough for—"

"Oh, hey, we're going somewhere?" Funkfreed's high-pitched question was a welcome surprise as the elephant clambered/slithered over the barricade, soon joined by a panting and eager Lassoo.

"Want us to help? Chaos knows you've got a bad habit of biting off more than you can chew." The droll offer made by a returning Koala, however, was less welcome, especially when backed up by Sandersonia's presence.

"What the—I thought you two were supposed to be on the front lines keeping those bastards back!" Cross hissed incredulously.

The anaconda-woman blinked in surprise. "I… thought you called us back?" Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. "At… the same time that all their raiding parties got called back… and the cannons on both sides are stopping…"

As silence fell on the whole of Grove 77 in the lull of the battle, Cross and those near him all turned their focus on the shamelessly grinning culprit.

"WHAAAAAT, FORGOT ABOUT ME ALREADY?" Soundbite sing-sang, shamelessly swaying back and forth. "I'm more than a pretty face, you know! YOU NEEDED a plan, I've got a plan! AND YOU NEED A DISTRACTION AND TO KEEP PEOPLE CALM, well, I'm giving you both at once. AND TRUST ME, IT WILL BE EPI~C!"

"Somehow I don't think a show of force is going to help us much right n—!" Cross started.

"WE'RE NOT THE DISTRACTION, dingus, I JUST NEEDED TO SHUT THIS PLACE UP LONG ENOUGH…" Soundbite's grin widened enough to mirror his partner's typical countenance. "To let everyone hear THIS."

The moment the snail's voice died, everyone—literally everyone in the Grove—heard… a drumroll. A relatively short, common drumroll that ended in a firm strike. Then it repeated itself, and again, and again.

Following the noise showed that the drumming was coming from Brook of all skeletons, his lack of flesh still masked by his welding mask but his afro plenty distinctive.

"Gotta give him credit, one rendition AND BONEJANGLES IS ALREADY PLAYING IT PERFECT!" Soundbite grinned.

Cross, though…

The Voice of Anarchy, while he had originally looked skyward in panic, now wore an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. A wide grin adorned his face, though for once it held no malice; only unbridled jubilance at the blaring of the anthem.

Then, in a voice that was barely louder than a breath…

Cross sang the lyrics of a song unknown to any realm in the world, yet one that with a ubiquitous message.

"Do you hear the people sing?"

Koala looked at Cross in confusion…

"Singing a song of angry men?"

…before he carried on the next segment of the chorus.

Her eyes lit up like a lighthouse in a raging storm, and without a second thought, she took up the next line.

"It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!"

At this point, Sandersonia had caught on. With memories of relief, hope, and joy stirring in her heart from the day she was set free, she raised her own voice to join in the song.

"When the beating of your heart, echoes the beating of the drums…"

The three of them crescendoed, with or without Gastro-Amplification, and echoed throughout the grove:

"THERE IS A LIFE ABOUT TO START WHEN TOMORROW COMES!"

And then, out of the blue, a fourth voice chimed in. A child's voice.

"W-Will you join…" One of the nearby refugees, a girl who couldn't be older than ten stammered out the words, likely barely even understanding what she was saying. "In our crusade?"

"Who will be strong and stand with me?" This, however, was stated with far more force and confidence by a man with heavily bandaged wrists, who was standing up and sporting the grin of a man possessed.

And on and on it went, the song bouncing from person to person and gaining more force as it went.

"Beyond the barricade," came from a shaken but recovering couple leaning against one another, while "Is there a world you long to see?" was sung by a woman cradling her child.

And it was at that point, when the mood swelled to an absolute peak, that Cross snapped out a series of gestures. With one hand, he snapped at Koala and pointed to the top of the barricade, prompting her to clamber on up to where everyone could see her. With the other, he pointed at a makeshift flag that had just been painted with the Tricolor and gestured for it to be tossed to him.

The instant it was in his hands, he threw it up to Koala who caught it and started waving it to the cheers of all who could see her. "THEN JOIN IN THE FIGHT!" she roared, leading the eruption of sound that echoed across the grove. "THAT WILL GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BE FREE!"

It was at that point that the refugees truly took heart, as nearly a dozen across the camp picked up instruments and joined in, raising their tunes and voices to the chorus.

From there… everyone drew breath as one, and the Archipelago sang.

-o-

"He's at it again," Zoro muttered, failing to hide a smirk.

"Yeeep. Damn cheeky sonnuva…" Jewelry Bonney trailed off into a frown, a frown born of memories that flashed through her mind. After a moment of thought, she glanced around her. Her company was her own crew, whom she trusted; the Straw Hats, who would not judge; the Heart Pirates, who were allied with the Straw Hats and previously allied with her crew; and the crowd that they were leading on to Grove 77, who were already singing.

The Glutton breathed in deeply… and joined in the chorus:

"DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?

SINGING A SONG OF ANGRY MEN?

IT IS THE MUSIC OF A PEOPLE

WHO WILL NOT BE SLAVES AGAIN!"

-o-

"Really, given everything I know about the bastard, I should've seen something like this coming," Apoo sighed, giving a defeated shrug.

"Yeeeaaah, Cross does a lot of things like this. It is the first time he's done something this big, though!" Luffy replied with a slight, proud smile on his face.

"I'll say!" Urouge guffawed, clapping his massive hands together in a raucous show of appreciation. "The man may disdain the divine, but he can certainly deliver a good sermon all his own when freedom enters the picture!"

'In more ways than one,' Apoo dryly thought, slyly pushing his glasses up his nose. But that bit of snark was quickly dismissed in favor of joining the following chorus:

"WHEN THE BEATING OF YOUR HEART,

ECHOES THE BEATING OF THE DRUMS,

THERE IS A LIFE ABOUT TO START

WHEN TOMORROW COMES!"

As the singing continued, Luffy's expression slowly fell and turned solemn as he refocused on his current surroundings. Namely, he eyed the chains the freed slaves were carrying; he'd have broken them if he could, but with bombs strapped around their necks and time something of a luxury, he'd just had an easier time knocking out the walls around their shackles wholesale. Sure, they'd all be able to get their collars off with the lockpicks waiting at their destination, but then…

As the gears in the rubbery mind started to turn (for once), he slowly beamed as an idea came to him.

"Hm?" Apoo grunted at a tap on his arm. He turned to see Luffy facing him with his trademark grin, but the Long-Arm swore he saw a bit of joyous glee in there.

"Hey, long-arm guy? Big monk guy?" The other two Supernovas felt chills go down their spines as Straw Hat's grin became an almost eerie parody of his tactician's trademark expression. "IIII've got an ideeeeaaaa~~~"

In that moment, neither Apoo nor Urouge were sure they'd ever grinned wider in their lives.

-o-

As the anthem continued on, the air still singing strong with the voices of thousands crying out for freedom, Cross dropped his voice from the chorus and took a bit to catch his breath.

During that pause, I smiled proudly at my brilliant partner. "You know, I don't say this often enough, but good job, Soundbite."

"Yeah yeah, I'm brilliant, yadda yadda," the snail grunted, his perturbed grimace a stark contrast to his earlier eagerness. "Just one problem. Inspirational this may be—!"

KRA-KOOM!

Cross and his fellow revolutionaries, all flinched as another chunk of the barricade was suddenly blown to matchsticks. And while the singing never stopped, the hiccup in harmony was palpable, as was the waver that infected the lyrics to follow.

Soundbite snorted furiously as he watched the roused Foxies scramble to patch the hole and evacuate any injured. "BUT DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN this isn't, and Markus we ain't. Panic's stopped, MARINES NOT. WE BOUGHT TIME, NOT VICTORY. GOT ANYTHING ELSE UP YOUR SLEEVE?"

Cross ground his teeth, searching his companions for an idea. Nothing came. A little desperate, he turned to Koala. "You're the one who's got experience with warzones, any ideas?"

Koala bit out a sharp tsk as she cast her gaze towards the No Man's Land. "How much longer do you need?"

"UNTIL WE GETPuru puru puru puru!" Ringing cut Soundbite off, and Cross nearly ripped the receiver off he grabbed it so fast.

"Hello?" he demanded.

There was a short pause as the answer echoed in Cross's headphones. To the immense comfort of everyone watching, he heaved out a sigh of contentment, his entire body sagging with pure relief.

"No, no, don't worry about it, everything's fine. Hell…"

Hearts all around were positively buoyed when Cross's countenance returned to its familiar demonic status.

"You're exactly on time. Soundbite!" Cross snapped his attention around, staring straight at—straight through—the barricade. "Call the Marines. I've got only one thing to say to them."

-o-

"'Parley!?' Jeremiah fucking Cross tells you that he wants to parley, and you actually listen to the shit!? Fuck's sake, if you can be this dumb and still get a damn coat, then maybe I should try my hand at this whole 'Marine' shit. Bet I'd be a Vice Admiral by the end of the week!"

Marine Commander Aihara glared at the mercenary commander, Tora. "We are in a stalemate with one of the worst pirate crews in history and half of this island is already burning. And there are hostages in that grove that need rescuing. I will take whatever victory I can get at this point."

"'Hostages?' You actually buy that shit?"

"Frankly, I'm not paid enough to care either way."

The battleground had fallen silent as the commander emerged from the barricade, a seasoned mercenary beside him. The pair paced forward, and Jeremiah Cross came to meet them, his arms and legs bare of armor as he entered no man's land, and a snail—the snail—on his shoulder. The pirate was flanked by two figures, both rendered unidentifiable by the Anonymous Cloaks™ they were wearing. Granted, one of them was literally three times taller than the other two, and the other's frame was distinctly feminine, but otherwise, they were totally obscured.

The two groups walked until they were about ten paces apart, coming to a mutual stop. Tora took an ostentatious step forward but immediately retracted it when Cross shot a glance at him.

"So," Cross said, his trademark grin never wavering. "I'm curious what you're going to concede to get us to give up. Better be something good, because we can keep this up all day and you've still got an archipelago to subdue."

The Marine commander glared at Cross, clearly unimpressed. "There will be no concessions. There will be no terms accepted other than immediate and unconditional surrender. Decline, and we will move upon your…" He glanced at the improvised—and by now rather battered—barricade. "Woodworks, and slaughter you all to a man. If you bend the knee, however, then you will possibly prolong your worthless lives for a few more days."

"Or, to put it another, more accurate way," the mercenary chuckled as he unslung an axe from his back and tapped its haft in his palm. "You lot can repent, give us our merchandise back and bow your necks to the white-hat here…" Said white-hat grunted in irritation at the moniker. "And maybe you'll suffer less. Least," the merc let out a grim chuckle as he danced his fingers across his axe's blade. "It'll hurt less than what my boys and I are planning to do to you."

Cross's 'impressed' whistling was expected, but still annoying. "Well, I'll give you lot a little credit for sticking to your guns. Sadly, I'm afraid you've misjudged things… quite a bit," the criminal responded, pointing at the pair. "See, you're not here to tell us to leave, we're here to tell you to leave. After all…"

The Voice of Anarchy then plastered a vicious grin onto his face.

"…you can't touch us anymore."

A silence fell over the war—er, battle-torn grounds. Aihara and Tora, struck dumb by the pirate's audacious statement, could only stand frozen.

Then Aihara did what any sane man would have done and scoffed.

"What are you talking about, you insolent thug? Though we very much wish you were, you don't seem to be a ghost."

"Har har, dickweed," Cross flippantly replied, with a flip of his hand no less. "No, I mean that the land that we now stand on is no longer under the World Government's jurisdiction. So unless you want the ones who do have authority here to take exception to your continued existence, I'd very much advise you all to, step. Off."

"…excuse me? I thought you were intelligent, not blind and deaf. Our name is the World Government. If I don't have the jurisdiction to arrest you, who does?"

Cross simply grinned the grin that razed islands. "Oh, that's simple."

SPLOOOSH! SKRANG!

The Marine started as two pillars of water shot out on either side of the root, a pair of projectiles accompanying them. They slammed into the ground before Cross in an X, at which point the 'law-keepers' recognized them.

Tridents.

"Them."

SPLASH!

A moment later, the waters next to the roots burst open again, only this time instead of disgorging weapons, they disgorged the weapons' bearers, who landed right next to their tridents and brandished them without a drop of wasted time or energy. Still drenched and no less intimidating for it, two muscular fishmen—bedecked in very heavy shell-clad helmets and pauldrons—stood before Jeremiah Cross, leveling their polearms at the 'unwelcome' parties.

"You are trespassing on the property of the Ryugu Kingdom," one of the fishmen growled, his expression remarkably calm for the sheer rage in his voice. "Vacate the premises immediately or we will remove you by force."

Aihara gritted his teeth and opened his mouth to politely ask what in the name of the Elder Stars' sweet almighty beards the fishman thought he was talking about.

The merc didn't give him the chance by posing the same question. "Oh yeah, fish-fuck? You and what army?" Albeit in a cruder fashion.

Neither did the suddenly grinning fishman who'd delivered the ultimatum. "Oh, I was really hoping you'd ask." And then he snapped his webbed fingers.

Cross, who was by now running out of cheek to stretch, spun a bundle out of his belt and unfurled an umbrella of all things, leaning it on his shoulder as he flashed them a shaka sign. "Surf's up, brah!"

"What are you—?!"

KRA-SPLASH!

"WAGH!"

A moment later, the waters next to the mangrove root erupted—literally erupted, in a practically volcanic manner—and then crashed down, blinding and drenching everyone who hadn't prepared for the event.

It was also only these individuals who were prepared for the sight that everyone beheld when the salty sheets of rain finally stopped falling.

Where once there had been still water, now there sat two massive galleons, encrusted all over with sea life ranging from barnacles to sixty-foot kelp fronds to the biggest starfish any of them had seen. In stark contrast to the limp, tattered sails that clearly weren't designed to catch the wind, the unmistakable flag of the Ryugu Kingdom—a cyan flag bearing a vertical conch shell superimposed over a crossed harpoon and trident—flapped proudly in the wind.

Oh, and the rails were lined with uniformly armored fishmen, and in place of broadside cannons, the ships were bristling with harpoon guns. Very, very large harpoon guns. Very, very large harpoon guns aimed right at them.

And it wasn't just the ships that were teeming with fishmen soldiers. The original pair on the root had been joined by at least two dozen other equally armored knights, the lot of them forming a wrought-iron wall of interlocked shields interspersed by protruding lances. The only real break was the one right in front of Cross, allowing the Marine and merc to maintain an unbroken line of sight with the pirate's rapturous smile.

"So, boys, tell me," Cross inquired ever so politely, closing his umbrella with a deft spin of his wrist. "Is this enough of an army for you?"

"One last time," the first of the fishman soldiers repeated, a smirk both visible on his face and audible in his voice. "You are trespassing on the property of the Ryugu Kingdom. Vacate the premises immediately or we will remove you, by force."

The suddenly self-conscious merc let out a nervous chuckle as he slowly slid one of his feet back, glancing towards the Marine. "…ehhh… I still get paid for this, right?"

The Marine shot the merc an irritated glance before exhaling explosively and glaring even harder at the fishmen, with a decidedly unamused expression. "Soldiers of Ryugu Kingdom, allow me to make it clear to you that you are in the process of making a very grave mistake. I don't know what you think that that—" He pointed at Cross, who returned the gesture with a jaunty wave. "—terrorist told or promised you, but the actions you are taking are illegal. If this is a declaration of secession, it's the most foolish thing that I've ever seen. And I can assure you, no matter what his broadcast might have you think of the World Government's current state…" Aihara's expression darkened as his hand fell hard on his sword's hilt. "We most certainly still have the strength required to put down one nation that's committing a capital crime."

"Save that in this instance, the only so-called capital crime I see being committed here, sirrah, would be the international incident you and that lout with you would perpetrate, were you to take one step more!"

"And believe you me, punishing you all for committing said incident would be one of my fondest memories for years to come if you actually went through with it. So I implore you: test your luck and give me half a reason."

And now the attention turned to two specific fishmen—no, mermen moving towards them. One of them was an elderly catfish merman, clad in a top hat and purple robe with his tail slithering behind him, a horned cane helping him along. The other was easily twice their size, held aloft with a bubble ring around his waist but also using an ornate trident as a makeshift walking staff to push himself forward. He had long and untamed blue hair and wore little, only a purple skirt-like garment and a cyan sash that seemed to defy gravity to wrap around his back and above his shoulders. The lack of clothing only served to emphasize every inch of his muscular frame.

Aihara and Tora did not recognize these two individuals, nor did they care to fit the pieces together. But there was a justifiable sense of intimidation emanating from them.

Cross, on the other hand, actually bowed his head in respect, even doffing his hat at the pair. "Ah, Honorable Minister of the Left, and Your Highness, Prince Fukaboshi. A pleasure to make your acquaintance; your reputations precede you. Welcome to the Sabaody Archipelago."

While the Marine and merc boggled at the newly identified nobles in abject shock, Prince Fukaboshi returned Cross's greeting with a smirk and a nod, while the Minister let out a good-natured laugh and tipped his top hat. "And a fond hello to you as well, Jeremiah Cross! A pleasure to be here, both on the Archipelago and the SBS! But, if you'll pardon me for but a moment, I just need to put some affairs in order, and then we can discuss matters in earnest. Speaking of which…" The Minister turned to the sopping-wet pair, and his kindly mood evaporated in an instant. "You two. As the good soldier already informed you, you are trespassing on sovereign soil of the Ryugu Kingdom territory. Leave now or face the consequences."

Aihara grit his teeth as the dual irritations of a fish-person speaking back to him and being spoken back to at all piqued his ire. "Are you truly trying to say before the world that Fishman Island—no, that the Ryugu Kingdom is invading Sabaody Archipelago? Because that would mean the invasion of an allied territory, and thus tantamount to a declaration of war. If that is the case, you can be assured that the World Government will involve itself. And you don't want that."

"Pft," the Minister scoffed, waving his staff dismissively. "Hardly, hardly, my good man. Really now, invading an island? Why ever would we do that? We've already plans to seek the rights to claim an uninhabited one at the next Reverie. As it stands, you've misunderstood me quite badly. We are not claiming that the Archipelago itself as the territory of our nation. Rather…" The Minister tapped his cane on the root, nodding his head back towards the mangrove tree behind him. "Merely this single district, Grove 77. This grove, specifically, bears the sovereign soil of the Ryugu Kingdom, and thus no longer falls under your jurisdiction."

Tora's face twisted up in confusion even as Aihara's expression darkened still further. "Wait a tic, sovereign soil, where have I—?" The appropriate neurons flared in his brain, and his face lit up in honest panic. "W-Wait a second, doesn't that usually mean a—!"

"Yes. Yes, it does."

It was with that declaration that Prince Fukaboshi planted the butt of his trident in the ground, drawing himself upright so that he could stare down at the humans. "As of one o'clock today, Grove 77 has been designated as the grounds for an embassy of the Ryugu Kingdom. The first embassy that our kingdom has ever opened on the surface, as a matter of fact. You should feel very honored, Commander. You're witnessing a momentous occasion."

Aihara's cheek twitched with the effort needed to suppress a curse. "Save that you can't open an embassy on another country's grounds without their explicit approval, and I know for a fact that there's as much a chance of Governor Prefectus actually approving this as—!"

"You will find, Commander," a positively frigid voice cut in, causing Aihara to instinctively snap to attention. "That Ex-Governor Prefectus is unable to decide so much as the color of his own clothes at the moment, much less matters of international policy."

With a mounting sense of dread, Aihara and Tora slowly turned to look behind them. Both froze up; they didn't recognize the woman in the center, but distressingly, she was wearing the governor's ceremonial badge, and perhaps more distressingly, she was flanked by Nefertari Vivi and Nico Robin of the Straw Hat Pirates, along with a host of Sabaody law enforcement officers.

"And since he's currently under arrest for embezzlement, corruption, and a shocking amount of bribery, from a source we are very intently investigating…" the woman wearing the badge hummed, making a show of examining her fingernails. "You'll find that he won't be making any such decisions for the rest of his life. As such, the government of the Sabaody Archipelago—which has recently undergone a re-evaluation of its own—has elected me, Governess Amati Libia, to act in his stead. And it was I, with all the rights and privileges that my office affords me, who approved the Ryugu Kingdom's acquisition of this grove." She tilted her head in such a way that her glasses flashed. "Will that be a problem, Commander?"

Aihara's jaw-twitch intensified. "Are you… completely certain that that is a course of action you would like to take, Governess?"

"Oh, absolutely," Libia stated, her voice as blunt as a hammer as she breezed past the Marine. "I and much of my current cabinet are of the opinion that it was long past time that we renewed our relations with our fishmen neighbors, relations that we have neglected for far, far too long a time."

It was with that proclamation that she halted in front of the Fishmen Royalty and dropped into a polite bow. "I can only hope that this will be the first step on the long road to peace, Your Highness."

"That is a sentiment that the whole of the Ryugu Kingdom, my father and myself in particular reflect, Governor. And congratulations on your… election," Fukaboshi chuckled as he inclined his head in turn.

"No thanks required, I just hope I do a better job than my predecessor. Not that that's a high bar, but still. Speaking of which…" Straightening up, Libia turned her attention to the Minister of the Left and held out a laminated, notarized, and long-since dried document that at least looked very official. "Keep this well-protected. Normally, we'd have more fanfare for this, but given the circumstances, this will have to suffice."

And with that, without changing either of their deadly serious expressions, 'Devil Child' Nico Robin drew out and popped a champagne popper, while 'Corsair Princess' Nefertari Vivi blew a party blower. A curly one. With streamers.

"SNRK!" And since Cross was suddenly biting into his knuckles to keep from cackling while his snail was silently howling, yes, that had actually just happened.

…Aihara was beginning to really hope that he woke up soon.

"I am not getting paid enough for this shit…" the merc muttered, unknowingly echoing his misery.

But still, just in case that wasn't in the cards… "You should be aware, Governess," Aihara ground out, in spite of how it felt like he was chewing glass to get it out. "That the World Government had several… agreements in place with your predecessor. Agreements that I would very much advise you take into consideration before you make any further… uneducated decisions."

"Oh, is that so?" the freshly minted Governess mused, glancing at the commander with intense disinterest. "Well, then, that sounds like something you'll want to take up with my successors."

Aihara felt the shudder that wracked his body in his soul.

"Successors… plural?!" he yelped.

"Indeed," Libia hummed, casually taking off her glasses to polish one of the lenses. "You see, we citizens of Sabaody have taken the chance to review our government's history, and quite frankly, we've found our prior governors to be somewhat…" She let out a slight hiss as she pushed her glasses back onto her nose. "Lacking. In a number of areas. As such, we decided that a change was in order. Come the end of the week, we'll be dissolving the current government and calling a… what was the term? Oh, yes, constitutional convention so we can set up a proper constitutional democracy. Anything the World Government wishes to discuss, they can take it up with the council of civilians that will be elected in my stead. Is that clear, soldier?"

"Yes… ma'am…" Aihara snarled out, his nerves ratcheting even higher as another option to get out of this with even half a chance of keeping his job evaporated. But, not being one to admit defeat without a hell of a good reason, he kept trying, this time with the Minister of the Left. "Even so. This. Changes. Nothing. You still have no right to refuse us passage or to harbor these criminals and their hostages."

Aihara felt the nascent temperature drop twenty degrees, but he pushed through with his statement. "This grove may belong to your kingdom, but your kingdom bel—"

He snapped his teeth shut as the temperature hit freezing around him and hastily reworded his sentence. "—is a part of the World Government, meaning that they are still within our jurisdiction. If you still refuse to stand aside, we will be forced to file a report stating your secession, and as I stated before you know as well as I that the consequences to such a course of action would be dire, to say the least."

"And I believe," the Minister of the Left intoned, frigid as the polar seas. "That you could use a refresher course on the very laws you and yours supposedly enforce."

"What are you—?!"

"Ahem, if I may?" Nefertari Vivi coughed into her fist. "If you don't mind, kindly refer to the World Government Foreign Policy, 25th Amendment, Article 7, Section 5, Subsection 62… 12th revision. A piece of legislature more commonly known as the Drake Doctrine."

Aihara twitched in confusion. For some reason, that name struck a chord in him, but for the life of him, he couldn't—

"To paraphrase for the sake of those not well-versed in legalese," the Corsair Princess sniffed primly. "'In the event that a member nation of the World Government proves to be too remote, too inhospitable, or lacks the proper infrastructure to support a proper Marine presence, that nation will be granted the right to maintain its own standing forces and handle matters of a judicial nature as the ruling body deems fit.' End paraphrase. This law is followed by a list of nations that fall under the aegis of the Doctrine…"

"At the very top of which," the Minister of the Left sniffed imperiously. "Is the Ryugu Kingdom."

"B-But what does that—?!" A choked gurgle occupied Aihara's throat as the implications struck him like a Sea King. "No… no you can't be saying—! That's not what that law means—!"

"Oh, but isn't it?" the Minister all but sneered at the Marine. "After all, the quick and dirty summary of that legislation is 'you're on your own, handle matters as best you can,' so here we are, handling them." The catfish merman punctuated his ire with a sharp rap of his staff on the ground. "For the past two hundred years has the World Government made their stance on your jurisdiction in our Kingdom explicitly clear for all to know. All instances of crime, from disturbing the peace to kidnapping to murder, fall to the Ryugu Kingdom's monarchy to solve and punish. All authority has been ceded to our administration and oversight, and at last, we are exercising that right to its fullest, even if that should be verging on the definition of abuse."

"And as such!" the Minister all but roared, as much as his elderly voice allowed. "By the authority vested in me by his Majesty King Neptune, I declare that so long as they remain under our aegis that you and yours will not touch one hair on the heads of these pirates—nay, these heroes!—or those poor unfortunate souls they have rescued from their wretched fates! And that! Is! Final!"

All Aihara could manage was a wheezing gurgle as his last hopes all burned to cinders before his eyes.

"Now now, Minister, there's no need to be quite so harsh on the poor fellow."

Aihara's gaze snapped up to Prince Fukaboshi. He knew he shouldn't put too much stock in the seemingly placating tone of his voice, he knew that there was another shoe waiting to fall, but damn it, if he had even an inkling of hope left then—!

"After all, he's merely acting according to the law," the Prince said in the same calm tone. "If he wishes to reclaim his organization's authority in our nation's borders, then it's quite simple: all the Marines have to do is establish a base of authority on Fishman Island and fully man it while maintaining peace and order in our home. Simple, no?"

And lo did the good Marine learn what hope sounded like when it died. "B-B-But that-that would take years to establish!" he babbled weakly. "And the p-p-price of upkeep alone—!"

"IIIII'm sorry? Am I hearing this right?!" And of course, that was when Jeremiah-fucking-Cross piped in, his ear ostentatiously cupped. "Sir, sir, are you implying that the World Government puts a price on the safety and wellbeing of its citizens? Did I hear that correctly? And if so, can I quote you on that?…oh, wait."

And in that moment… the Marine swore that it was not a man smiling at him, but the incarnation of Chaos itself.

"We're live."

After that, Aihara suffered a brief moment of confusion where he couldn't tell if the pounding in his ears was his jack-hammering heart or the gavel of his court-martial…

And then everything went black.

-o-

The Minister of the Left fumbled his monocle in surprise when the Marine Commander suddenly collapsed like a puppet with his strings cut.

"Mister Cross," he said, turning to me. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but… you scare me."

"None taken, I think I just scared myself a bit," I replied, just as surprised. "I mean, this is only the third time that I've done that."

I realized—too late if the looks almost everyone was giving me were anything to go by—that saying it had happened before, and more than once, probably wasn't reassuring.

"So…" The merc broke the awkward silence with an even more awkward cough. "I'm just gonna…" He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder with a shaky smile. "Go and get my boys and, uh, tell everyone else that we should all, ah… find somewhere else to work? Far, far away from here and all your very pointy spears, yeah?"

I schooled my expression into a look of patient disdain as I pointed at the Marine. "Take him with you and tell his men what's going on, and maybe we won't hunt your asses down for the years of blood on your hands. Deal?"

"Right, right, I will definitely do that!" the merc nodded, tossing the Marine over his shoulder. "Well! Happy trails to ya!" And with that, he booked it but good.

I nodded in satisfaction, then gave a glance up at Gif, hiding in the folds of Sonia's hood. In full awareness that the entire world was watching, I swept my arm to my waist and gave the merman towering above me a proper bow.

"Your Highness, your presence honors us all," I declared in as formal and proper a tone I could manage. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you for coming here."

To say that… pretty much everyone around me was left surprised would be an understatement, and I couldn't blame any of them.

-o-

"Hahaha! So, this is your answer, then? My oh my, you really are something special, you brats! The both of you! No… more like the whole lot of you, even the ones you roped into this! So youthful and determined… determined to make the rest of us oldtimers look like absolute fools!" Rayleigh thunked the back of his head against his cell's wall, chuckling. "Haaa, and all I wanted was to make those kiddos sweat a bit! So this is karma? I don't think I care for it! Hahaha!"

'Dark King' Rayleigh continued laughing, even as he sat chained and shackled in the depths of the Human Auction House. Normally there'd be no reason for laughter in a place as hellish as that, but today was an exception. Once more, the retired pirate congratulated himself on having the foresight to smuggle in a baby snail with him when he decided to try and make the Straw Hats' arrival more 'interesting.'

He also resolved to thank Shanks for helping him circumvent Cross's localized transmission embargo when he'd figured out why his snail was being suspiciously quiet. After all, he'd have hated to miss even an instant of what he was seeing. Especially this!

"Ahhh… and to think, you actually do have a concept of respect in that hellish brain of yours!" Rayleigh whistled. "I wonder, if you'd had a chance to meet the old King, would you have bowed to him too?" He fell silent as he contemplated such a meeting… before throwing his head back and laughing even louder. "HAHAHA! Oh, who am I kidding?! You'd have something positively nefarious in mind, and he'd both know it and be looking forward to it! HAHAH—!"

"SHUT IT!" KLANG!

Rayleigh's jaw snapped shut and his mouth twisted into a scowl, glaring at the one who'd slammed his cage's bars, even as he subtly shoved his snail further into his coat. "Hey, what gives? You told everyone to stop screaming and crying, and I'm doing neither."

Disco's already ugly grimace deepened into an even uglier scowl. "Yeah, well I'm telling you to stop laughing now, too! Either you stay silent…"

Rayleigh couldn't help but crack a smirk and lean forwards towards his 'captor.' "Or what, I'll get the lash?"

There was a brief pause, and then the star-spectacled man's face twisted into a smile all his own. "No," he sneered venomously. "Someone else will. And you'll watch."

That killed Rayleigh's smirk dead, and he scowled at the slave trader, barely keeping himself from tugging his collar free of the wall. "Try that and I will do things to you that haven't been done to another human being in almost twenty years," he intoned, his voice dripping with a darkness that had left many a hardened pirate (as well as a certain red-nosed cabin boy) with nightmares 'til the end of their days.

So he was quite shocked when Disco merely threw his head back and laughed, chuckling and spinning his cane with nary a care in the world as he turned and walked away. "Promises, promises, Rexy, old dog. Promises… and nothing more."

The old man watched him go, all good humor drained from his face. Over the course of his stay, Rayleigh had become well acquainted with Disco's personality: a typical dirty coward, who only had power and confidence as long as whoever he was fighting couldn't fight back.

For the auction house's owner to be that aggressive and confident with all that the Straw Hats were pulling off, with all he had to know by now the Straw Hats had pulled off… something was wrong.

No, more than just wrong… in the deepest part of his gut, the Dark King could tell that something was very, very wrong.

-o-

"C-Cross…" Vivi stammered out, Robin staring at me in wide-eyed shock.

"Holy… is he really—?" Koala breathed, Sandersonia nodding in numb agreement.

But perhaps the most stunned was Fukaboshi, who was staring at me in naked surprise. "This…Jeremiah Cross, this is hardly necessary," he finally managed to get out.

"I-I must agree, Mister Jeremiah!" the Minister of the Left blustered, wringing his cane in shock. "One as distinguished as yourself need hardly humble yourself in such a manner, least of all for a matter as trivial as this!"

"And yet, I insist that it is," I, well, insisted, keeping my head lowered. "Your Highness, what you are doing here today… there just aren't words for it. What is happening here today, what will happen here today, none of it would be possible if it weren't for your bravery and integrity. Our actions here today—your actions—will reshape the history of both our species. Today is a day that will live on in the memories of all sapient species on this planet for generations to come, and for that, I can't even begin to thank you enough."

And with that, I straightened up and gave Fukaboshi a watery smile as I placed my hand on his arm. "I… can't even begin to describe how proud Otohime would be of you, Fukaboshi."

That got twin jerks of shock from the Fishmen nobles, and even the soldiers within earshot recoiled at my comment, but just as quickly, Fukaboshi recovered and gave a tearful smile of his own. "I don't know how you can claim such familiarity, but I thank you nevertheless."

"Indeed, indeed!" the Minister's whiskers flapped a bit with how fast he nodded his head. "And dare I say, our dearly departed Queen would have been overjoyed to make your acquaintance as well!"

"PFHAHAHAHA!" Alright, I kinda regret making everyone reel in shock when I burst out laughing at that comment, but come on—! "Oh, heeeeell no!" I wheezed, still giggling madly. "Oh, nono, nooo, Otohime would have utterly despised me with every fiber of her being!"

"What?! But that's utterly—!"

"Dude," I scoffed, wiping a tear from my eye. "In case you missed it, I'm a reckless firebrand who starts wars around the world with my words and who advocates harsh, violent resistance, and whose hands are soaked in blood, whether through skulls I've personally cracked or by proxy. If we'd ever met, Otohime would have slapped me so hard her wrist would have shattered, and I'd be in more pain than her because of it! Seriously, I respect her to hell and back and we might have had the same goals, but our means are totally opposite and you know she would never let me hear the end of it."

Everyone stared as that sunk in.

Then something happened that I had never seen in the story: Prince Fukaboshi threw his head back and busted a stitch laughing.

"FUHOHOHOHOHO!"

"Y-Your Highness!" the Minister blustered helplessly.

"Oh, come off it, Minister, he has us there!" Fukaboshi chuckled, slapping a hand down on the old timer's back and nearly laying him out flat in the process. "We both know that Mother wouldn't have abided by his methods, and she'd have given us all hell for giving him the time of day too, even as she hung onto his every word! If she were still alive, we'd all be stuck listening to the SBS in the basement for fear that she might find us!"

The Minister weighed his Prince's words before glancing aside with an uneasy cough. "I, ah, believe we have other matters to attend to, my prince…?"

"Quite right, quite right," I nodded in agreement, turning around and gesturing for everyone to follow me back towards the barricade. "I'd tell your soldiers to hold their positions, in case anybody gets it in their head to pull something… unwise. As for the rest of us, well…"

Soundbite answered for me by shooting a smirk at Fukaboshi. "Let's get this guy in front of a crowd!" he hooted.

"As the snail says, let's move!" And with that, I marched back to Grove 77, the rest of the party following along.

As we went, Vivi walked up and side-eyed me. "This is the second time in two weeks that you've shown another royal of my standing more respect than you've ever shown me," she muttered in annoyance.

"I haven't had to see them preening in front of a mirror in their underwear," I blithely answered.

"EXCUSE ME!?" Vivi hiss-snarled, staring at me in equal parts rage and embarrassed horror.

"You should really remember to lock the room door more often, Princess, it can get horribly drafty in there, you know," Robin hummed ever so casually as we both strode past our suddenly frozen crewmate. "Also, I don't recommend something that sheer and lacy for everyday wear."

…man, after so much seriousness, the sound of Vivi's tortured moan of embarrassment was like sweet, sweet music to my ears.

-o-

Kuroobi, Hachi, and Chew saw every moment of Cross's interaction with the authorities of their kingdom—Prince Fukaboshi himself, in the flesh, forging an alliance that was built to last for a very long time. All three of them were gaping openly, but while for Hachi it was from joy and awe, the other two had the same question on repeat in their minds:

"What is my life right now?"

-o-

You know, it never ceases to amaze me how potent the power of sound can be when applied appropriately. The latest example soon to come as Fukaboshi pushed off of the ground to float atop a pile of crates remarkably similar to the one I'd used earlier.

All it took was Soundbite amplifying the sound of the Prince's trident knocking against the crates for the crowd's hushed but deafening muttering to cease.

Fukaboshi paused and took a moment to properly clear his throat before addressing the crowd properly. "Greetings, everyone," he declared, keeping his voice at a nice and even tone and pace. "I'd like to start by apologizing for bothering you all. I'm aware that you all have been through a horrendous amount of trauma and that your only desire at the moment is to rest. As such, I'll do my best to keep this brief: My name is Prince Fukaboshi, eldest son of King Neptune of the Ryugu Kingdom on Fishman Island. I stand before you now to declare that from this point forward, the seventy-seventh grove of Sabaody Archipelago is now an embassy for our kingdom…" He thumped his fist to his heart. "And as such, will stand as a sanctuary for those who have been afflicted by the slave trade. Slavery has long been a scourge on both our peoples, so you can rest assured that we of the Ryugu Kingdom will spare no expense to see it combatted, in whatever means we may. And in pursuit of that goal…"

Fukaboshi turned to the side and gestured behind him at the galleons that he'd arrived on and with. "These ships you see before you are crewed by the finest soldiers my kingdom has to offer, and are capable of making not only the trip to Fishman Island, but also to all four of the Blue Seas with ease! Soon, we will begin taking names and destinations, and from there we will guarantee you safe passage to the oceans you call your homes!" The prince paused and bowed his head sorrowfully. "Regrettably, it is simply not feasible for us to return you all home at once, so many of you will have to wait for subsequent ships to make the voyage… but no matter how long it takes, I give you my word that I, mine, and ours will make certain that every last one of you is returned home!

"Many of my kind are personally familiar with the devastation that slavery can bring upon a person and the ones that are left behind. Rest assured, we will provide all of the resources that are needed for you to return to your lives as the best that you can be, physically and mentally. I promise this with the hope that it will be the beginning of many positive relations between humans, fishfolk, and merfolk, as was the desire of my late mother, Queen Otohime. In her memory, and on my honor as a prince, I swear to you that we will not rest, and we will not falter! We will see to it that none who set foot on our soil need ever feel the sting of the whip or the chill of chains ever again! THIS!" He thrust his trident skyward. "I SWEAR!"

That was when the skies over Grove 77 erupted, a shower of leaves falling upon our heads as the cheers and applause of the free and the proud quite literally shook the heavens. Honestly, if it weren't for Soundbite's intervention, I and a few others might very well have ended up deaf. But maaan… to see so many people literally jumping with joy, clutching one another with and crying tears of relief… to see such a pure and honest expression of adulation and jubilation…

Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd gladly go deaf for that.

But Fukaboshi wasn't done quite yet, and he announced that by repeatedly thumping his trident against the crates. No real silence, but the roar went from deafening to 'present,' so that was enough. "Finally, I would like to address the ones responsible for bringing so many people to freedom. Those who were brave enough to take the first steps today! Even if your motives were not humanitarian, your actions were still without compare, and thus we would see you rewarded for them. Minister?"

The Minister of the Left carefully slithered his way up onto the crates next to his Prince, and withdrew a decorated briefcase from the folds of his robes. He then withdrew a small blue booklet made of metal from within, holding it up for all to see.

"As our show of thanks, all pirates present here today will be the first to receive these royal passports, known as the Broken Chain Passports, notarized by King Neptune himself," the Minister announced. "As you all know, the only way that ones such as yourselves may continue your voyage into the New World is to first pass through our island. And for the longest time, such voyages have been unregulated. The result is a perilous voyage through the depths of the Grand Line, which many do not survive, and as a result of the lack of oversight on those who would come to our island, all too often are our waters frequented by criminals who would do us harm. It is the intention of these passports to alleviate matters on both ends of the situation.

"This passport will allow us to keep track of those who would seek entry to our Kingdom, for the document will be a sign that you possess the favor of the Ryugu Royal Family! Holding it both guarantees and facilitates your passage to our kingdom on Fishman Island; presenting this passport at our embassy will authorize you access to an expert ship coater, as well as the services of a personal guide to escort you to our kingdom by the securest routes available, free of charge. This will also facilitate your stay on our island. Room and board and food of the highest quality will be available for you at a discount of 70%. So long as they keep within the country's laws, this passport guarantees the holder and their crew the VIP treatment for the entirety of their stay.

"And how might one come to possess such a wondrous boon, you might wonder? Well, regrettably, that will involve a rather lengthy and exorbitantly expensive screening process, to make sure that your backgrounds are clear enough for us to allow you entry… But…" He grinned almost maliciously as started to idly twirl one of his moustache's long whiskers. "Were a crew to present… evidence of their good will towards our Kingdom… a token such as, say… a set of broken chains… then I do believe something could be done to expedite the bureaucratic process, shall we say.

"And so, to all those present here today, who might still wish to earn themselves a few extra copies of the Passport, as well as those watching and listening beyond the horizon…" The Minister chuffed and tipped the brim of his hat down ever so slightly. "Well, now, legally it would be ill-advised for me to issue a truly pro-pirate statement on behalf of the Ryugu Kingdom… but as a merman, and a man with pride besides, I will say this…" The old man suddenly swept his cane out and pumped his fist in the air. "GO OUT THERE AND GIVE THEM THE WHAT-FOR, LADS!"

That proclamation initiated a whole new round of cheers, and while it was less deafening than when the whole Grove did it, our fellow buccaneers made up for it by sheer raucousness and liberal use of their firearms.

Man, it would have been awesome to just keep standing there before the crowds, next to the semi-aquatic heroes who'd helped turn my madcap plan into the madcap reality we were living in and just soaking up the praise!

"Hey, you guys, you gotta come check this out!" YOINK!

"GWAH!"/ "Woahwoahwoah, watch what you're pulling on!"

…but some things never truly change, and I'd never have it any other way. Of course, a certain merman prince might have a different opinion of being yanked off our high horses (high pile? Whatever) by an all-too-familiar rubbery arm, despite the Minister of the Left's protests as he attempted to slither after us.

"I don't suppose you could try and stop him!?" Fukaboshi shouted, completely failing to gain any purchase in the ground with his trident.

"Lemme check," I groused as I was dragged across the mossy ground by my boot. "Hey, Luffy, think you could let us go?"

"No way, no way, shishishi! Explaining or letting you guys walk would be too slow, this is faster!"

The best I could offer Fukaboshi was a shrug to tell him that I'd at least tried.

"Could you at least explain where you're taking us while you're dragging us, please?!" the prince demanded, really showing off his negotiation skills there.

"Something really really cool!" Luffy unhelpfully answered. "See, I had this idea…"

That little proclamation had me and Fukaboshi exchanging looks.

"I feel like I should be screaming in terror," Fukaboshi bit out in a deceptively calm voice. "It's the oddest thing."

I tugged the brim of my cap down over my eyes. "It's Luffy thinking, I'm pretty sure that's your primal instincts warning you that this is all against the laws of the universe."

Sadly, nothing more was forthcoming from my captain. Not until he skidded to a halt right in front of one of the massive roots. Fukaboshi and I had no time to catch their breath. The gathered Supernovas demanded our attention, as did the lit torches they carried. Torches they were carrying around a pit they were pouring what looked to be pitch into.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Luffy eagerly cried, hopping up to his spot around the pit and grabbing up a torch of his own oh god why. "They're almost done! You gotta take a look before they light it!"

"Alright, now I'm terrified," I muttered, working my way to my feet and trudging after my captain, Fukaboshi a step—er, tail-length behind.

Reaching the edge, we looked in, and gasped, eyes wide. There, in the pit and soaked in pitch, was a small mountain of chains and slave collars. My eyes darted from the chains to the torches, and suddenly everything made sense.

"You're burning them!" Fukaboshi breathed in awe, eyes wide. "You're burning the chains!"

"Do-Do you guys realize the symbolism of this?!" I wheezed, running my fingers through my hair. "Burning the literal instruments of oppression!?"

"Do you take us for fools, Jeremiah Cross?" Hawkins drawled. "Because any fool could see the symbolism."

"Point of order, a fool did," Drake huffed, casting a sidelong glance at a snickering Luffy. "After all, he's the one who suggested this to begin with."

"Which is the strong point of this," Nami added, staring wistfully into the flames of her torch. "If even Luffy can see the meaning of this, then everyone will. It'll be a physical symbol of everything we've done here, something that nobody will be able to ignore."

"Well, until it burns out, at least, but eh, it'll be pretty till then," Bonney shrugged in a 'what can you do' manner.

That snapped Fukaboshi out of his trance, and he chopped his arm down in denial. "That will not happen. I'll make arrangements to keep it burning eternally, see to it myself if I have to. But this… rest assured, I'll see to it that this site becomes a historical monument. I will not let it die."

That got looks of honest surprise from the Supernovas, and I do believe that, in that instant, a lot of respect was earned all at once. Once the moment passed, Bege reached inside himself and plucked out two more torches, holding them out to us. "Prince, if you'll do the honors," he grunted.

For a moment, the two of us reached for the flames, ready to accept them, but in the next, we exchanged a look. An understanding passed between us… and we lowered our arms.

"Naaaah," I drawled, crossing my arms behind my head. "Personally, I think we'll sit this one out if you don't mind."

"Indeed, indeed," Fukaboshi nodded in agreement. He raised his hand, the impending protest dying in the Supernovas' throats. "Cross had his moment of glory earlier when he orchestrated this masterpiece, and I had mine not five minutes ago. This… This gesture, this moment?" He swept his hand out over the pit, and the evil they were all prepared to burn. "This, I offer to you. To the Thirteen Supernovas, who brought about this earthshaking paradigm shift; for your part, and for all that you have done… this is yours, and yours alone."

There was a moment of stunned silence… and of course, it was broken by Luffy snickering and rubbing a finger under his nose. "Shishishi! Told you guys he was cool!"

"You never even met him before today, Monkey brains," Killer grumbled, even as he tossed a bundle of bills towards a too-smug Nami.

"Eh, I had a good feeling about it! Anyway!" Luffy started eagerly waving his torch around. "Let's do it!

Another round of nods, and the pirates raised their arms to—

"Woah, wait, hold up!"

All eyes turned to me catching Luffy's wrist, various levels of annoyance on their faces. "What?" Kid snapped.

"This just occurred to me, but we're burning the collars," I hissed. Sweet lightning, how had they overlooked this? How had I overlooked this!?... right, adrenaline rush at the sheer beauty of it. "You do remember they've all got explosive charges in them, right?! And we're lighting them on fire."

That got everyone yanking their flames back nice and fast, except for Barto, who just scoffed and waved me off. "You seriously think that didn't occur to me, Cross?" the mohawk'd captain demanded. "They're bomb collars, those things use small charges to sever the spine, not TNT! So it'll be small rolling explosions rather than one big one, no big—eh?" He blinked at the blank, accusing stares he realized he was getting. "Whaaaat? I like explosions! But whatever, if you you want to really overly safe…"

A wave of his hand, and a shimmering barrier spread out over the pit, with a far smaller hole in the middle.

"There, ya pansy. Perfectly safe."

"Pansy?! That shrapnel could have shredded us into chunky salsa you—!"

"You're overreacting," Zoro replied, rolling his eyes. "That would've just torn us up a bit, Chopper could have patched us back together no problem."

"SAY THAT AGAIN YOU BLITHERING TROGLO—!"

"If I may," Fukaboshi interjected with a raised hand before Chopper could fight his way out of our gunner's grasp and really made things interesting. "I believe that now that all protests have been addressed…?" A moment of silence, and he nodded. "Then I shall do a christening. To the Flames of Liberation: may they burn eternally as a symbol of our defiance!"

"AYE!" And with that cry, the Supernovas raised their arms and cast the torches into the pit…

KRA-KOOM! FWOOSH!

And the rest, as they say, was history.

-o-

Unseen to all, standing just a few paces behind the captains—behind one obliviously smiling captain in particular—was a woman casually taking a drag from her cigarette.

The moment the Supernovas—this new, mad, absolutely incredible generation of pirates—threw in their torches, she flicked in her smoldering stub right alongside them.

"That one's for you," Shakky chuckled wistfully, watching the smoke rise to the heavens. "You damn Gold fool…"

And with that, she turned around and walked away. She lit up another cigarette, calmly blowing out smoke to join the pillar, and her voice softly joined in the new chorus that had risen from the masses around her.

"Will you give all you can give,

So that our banner may advance?

Some will fall and some will live,

Will you stand up and take your chance?"

Beyond the horizon

Your freedom awaits you at last!"

-o-

"DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?

SINGING A SONG OF ANGRY MEN?

IT IS THE MUSIC OF A PEOPLE

WHO WILL NOT BE SLAVES AGAIN!"

WHEN THE BEATING OF YOUR HEART,

ECHOES THE BEATING OF THE DRUMS,

THERE IS A LIFE ABOUT TO START

WHEN TOMORROW COMES!"

Much as I wanted to join the swelling chorus that would surely echo in this place's memory for generations to come, I had to turn away for a bit. Stepping a short distance away from the main glut of the crowd, I leered down at my partner.

"What is so important that you have to drag me away from the celebration?" I 'hissed,' making my consternation sound genuine, but really, it was taking all my discipline to muffle my smile. If everything up until had been the climax of my plan, then this was without a doubt the coup de grâce, and I intended to play it perfectly.

"This is IMPORTANT, CROSS!" Soundbite whined piteously, before re-donning his cocky smirk. "YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHO FOLLOWED US ALL THE WAY HERE HOPING FOR AN up close and deadly visit!"

I heaved a weary sigh, slapping a hand to my face. "Oh great, a vendetta-seeker? Soundbite, that's a long list, if you want me to guess, I need a clue."

"HEEHEEHEEhoohoohoo, FAIR 'NUFF!" the gastropod cackled. "HERE'S A CLUE: WE LAST SAW THEM in the land of sand!"

My facepalm slowly transitioned to pinching my nose. "…swear to God, if Croc or Daz Bonez got out—!"

"Eesh, that would be nasty, BUT NOPE! Also, wrong side of the law."

"Then who—?!" I recoiled as I affected an expression of terror. Not that hard, with all the memories I could draw from. "Oh, crap, tell me it's not Smoker, because that could be a real—!"

"YEEEAAAH, TRUST ME, I'M AWARE, I've been keeping a non-existent ear out for ANY REPORTS OF KILLER SMOG…" Soundbite grimaced and glanced aside before eagerly perking up. "But we're in luck, 'cause not a peep on that front! For now, we're only being shadowed by his four-eyed flunky!"

"Tashigi?" I blinked in surprise before cradling my chin thoughtfully. "Alright, not as much of a threat… but still pretty skilled and definitely still bearing a grudge against us…" I paused and looked at my partner in 'confusion.' "Wait, how come we haven't heard reports of her hauling pirates in by the crew-ful? Even if you were redirecting people around her, or her around us, she'd still be on the hunt, wouldn't she?"

"OH SHE IS, SHE IS!" Soundbite nodded eagerly, looking like he was seconds away from busting into joyful hysterics. "IT'S JUST THAT SHE'S… distracted by other prey. We leave behind a looooot of scraps, dontcha know!"

"Scraps? What are you—OH!" I slammed my fist in my palm. "Ooooh, so that's… what you…" And then I trailed off once more, as my face slowly underwent a metamorphosis of realization. "Oh. Oooooh, ohohoh!"

"CROOOOOSS?" Soundbite drew out.

"Pfffhohohohoooooh…" I chuckled menacingly, not exaggerating that in the least. "Oh. Yes! Oh, that! Is! Good! Brilliance, even, sheer brilliance, right at its finest!"

"Oh lordy lordy, you've got a plan," the snail moaned.

"Don't sound so scared!"

"THE LAST TIME YOU HAD AN IDEA, THIS HAPPENED!" he sniped, waving his eyes out to indicate… well, the entire archipelago. "I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE SCARED!"

I briefly considered that before shrugging. "…point. Anyway, you willing to help me with this idea or do I need a snail with balls? Or at least, balls bigger than yours."

"NO SUCH SNAIL EXISTS!" he snapped. Then he blinked and rolled his eyestalks. "Hmph. Guess I have no choice but to handle it myself."

"Thank you for your sacrifice. Now!" I snapped my fingers and proudly pointed out into the groves. "Connect me to Tashigi, on the double!"

"ROGER ROGER! One call coming up, featuring Jeremiah Cross aaaaas?"

I sneered as I thumbed out the collar of my jacket. "Himself, naturally."

"Say wha—?!…I seriously hope you know WHAT YOU'RE DOING…"

"That makes two of us, now ring."

And as Soundbite rang, I reveled in the anticipation of the display I was about to put on. After all, as far as the world knew, Tashigi and were still enemies. I was the cocky manipulator, she the hapless but idealistic Marine…

And it was with that very dynamic that I intended to hammer the final nail into the World Government's coffin.

But of course, for an effective dance…

"KA-LICK!"

One needs an equally able partner.

"This is Lieutenant Tashigi, busy in the middle of somethin—HEY, WATCH IT!" A clang of steel obscured her voice, presumably to put down some idiot stupid enough to think this conversation was even half an opening. "Sorry about that, I'm clear now. Anyways, who is this?"

"Why, this would be Third Mate Jeremiah Cross, currently in the middle of celebrating an overwhelming victory on the part of piracy," I all but purred, sweeping my arm across my chest in a nice and mocking show of a bow. "Good evening, Lieutenant, long-time no infuriate! How's the blood pressure?"

"SPIKING NOW THAT I'M SPEAKING TO YOU, YOU POMPOUS BLOWHARD!" Tashigi roared, Soundbite's veins nearly pulsing. "WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME, YOU BASTARD SON OF A BITCH!?"

"Noooow now, let's all calm down, Lieutenant, no need to bring Akainu or his mother into this…" I said placatingly, making a show of examining my gauntlet's nails, which must have broadcasted quite well if Tashigi's feral snarling was anything to go by. "But as for the why, well…" I shrugged ever so innocently. "I missed you is all!"

"HA!"

"But I diiiiid," I whined in my most petulant of tones. "I mean, I put on this most wonderful of song and dances, spun the world on its ear, and at my hour of glory… you don't even RSVP? I feel so betrayed my dear, why… I don't even have the words. Standing a man up like this at his peak, it's just…" I choked back a niiice and fake sob as I made doe eyes at Soundbite, who looked fit to choke on his own tongue. "Be honest with me: is there another pirate? Is he… Is he more infuriating than me?"

The act was dropped in favor of biting my knuckles as Tashigi made noises that shouldn't have been producible by a human throat. No, seriously, I don't doubt that somewhere nearby, Chopper was taking notes and muttering as he amended some thesis of his.

-o-

"…can hatefucking be verbal? Because I'm pretty sure that this counts at this point," Nami muttered, staring at Brain in a mix of horrified awe and disgusted fascination.

Apoo chortled, filling in for Vivi who was too busy leaning against a thoroughly hysterical Merry. "Clearly, you haven't been listening to Law and Kid snipe at each other over the past two weeks. It's sickening, bizarre, probably banned in most of the World… and kind of awe-inspiring to watch, if I'm being honest."

Robin promptly tossed him a Tone Dial. "Get me a recording, would you?"

"For research, I'm guessing?"

"…mostly blackmail, but Chopper greatly appreciates any contributions to his research."

-o-

"But, ah…" I picked up once Tashigi finally ran out of air. "For real, where were you, Lieutenant? I wouldn't think you one to miss a nice little meet-up like this without good reason!"

"Oh, you gave me PLENTY of reasons, you smug prick, and you know it!" Tashigi snorted, actually puffing out a cloud of steam. "The entire time you and your fellow scum have been running rampant through the archipelago, you've been leaving your scraps behind! And as much as I would love, and I mean love to see you chained, shackled and nailed to the wall—"

I exchanged a very wary look with Soundbite. "Not even touching that one…" I stage-whispered.

"—the fact remains that we can't leave the monsters you leave destitute free to do as they please, either! We've been stuck with dozens of arrests, countless counts of accessory to these crimes, trails miles long leading off into the Blues themselves…!" Tashigi's outrage slowly contorted into an expression of pride. "You pirates might have your 'victory' right now, if you can call it that, but we Marines have our own, too! We'll see the evils of slavery rooted out of this world, once and for all! Us, and not you!"

I took a moment to let that statement sink in, and then tsked dismissively and turned my head away. "Pardon me if I don't exactly hold my breath. After all, didn't you and yours already make that promise two hundred years ago?"

"SCREW YOU!"

"Sorry, not interested," I shot back, before moving on to the main event. "Especially since I doubt you'll be in much of a position to do anything for much longer. Come now, how long do you think you can keep this up, Tashigi? How much more can you do before Marineford slaps you silly with a cease-and-desist order and tell you to get back to hunting us before they boot you down to Chore Boy?"

"HA! Your lies are as see-through as your so-called 'integrity,' Cross!" Tashigi snapped, Soundbite leaning forward and transmitting the tiniest grin she was wearing under her scowl, as she ramped up for her finale. "There is no possible way that such a thing would ever happen, because the Marines and World Government are utter bastions of truth, integrity, and morality! Never in a million years would they condone the villainy of slavery! As bad as you are, the priority is obvious: the slaver scum will be dealt with, in totality, and that's a promise! Each and every last one that you pirates 'discover' and put out of business, we'll arrest and convict them all!"

Just a bit more, just a bit—!

Soundbite's eyestalks snapped upright, as Tashigi herself snapped to attention. "I STAKE THE VERY PRIDE OF THE NAVY ON THIS VOW!"

And there it was. There. It. Was. At long last… checkmate.

I shivered, literally shivered as the sensation of victory washed over me, before re-donning the demon's mask so that I could bring it on home.

"Do you, now?" I crooned. "Well, then, so be it. Let's hope that your precious Navy still has enough pride left to put up at all! Especially since…" I swept my arm out at the world and grinned. "Well. Now that the entire world has heard your vow, it now holds each and every one of you to account! Put your money where your mouth is, Lieutenant… or lose it all forevermore!"

"In case you didn't notice," Soundbite sneered. "YOU'RE PRESENTING FROM THE OTHER END OF THE SPECTRUM… ON CANDID SNAIL."

A moment of silence, a heartbeat that stretched for an eternity… and theeeen—

"JEREMIAH CROSS, YOU SON OF A—!"

I cut her off with a lackadaisical swipe of my hand across my throat… though the echoes that bounced through the archipelago weren't halted in the least.

The deed all nice and done, I shot a final smirk up at the overwatching Gif.

"Well, I think that that just about does it," I preened. "Guess there are still enough Marines who can be trusted to do the right thing in the world, so I can trust that this market is condemned to the shadows where it belongs. If it can operate at all after this. So, from all of us here at the SBS, see you next time! This is Jeremiah Cross—"

"—and SOUNDBITE!"

"Signing off."

Once I thumbed the cradle and the broadcast was properly cut off, my partner's grin fell into a grimace. "… you know the World Government is going to kill her FOR THAT, RIGHT?"

"Oh, they will certainly wish they could, that's for sure, and they might even try…" I admitted. "But we've just shoved the spotlight directly onto the good Lieutenant and chained it in place. In one fell swoop, she's become the public figurehead of integrity in the Navy, and as such a hero to the public. If she gets so much as a nosebleed under suspicious circumstances…" I sneered as I slooowly dragged my thumb across my throat. "Then every whisper of corruption becomes ratified and the noose around the Marines neck twists aaaall the tighter. And as such, they're left with only two options."

"PLAY NICE…" Soundbite summarized with a nod of his own. "OR FOLD."

"Preeeecisely," I nodded, securing the mic in its cradle and turning to walk back to the party, only to pause.

For you see, behind me stood every Supernova who wasn't part of my crew or the Masons, all of them staring at me with unreadable expressions.

"…Alright, seriously, Cross," Eustass Kid said at last. "How in the hell did you pull that off?!"

I stepped forward and casually swung my arm over his shoulder, pointedly ignoring the snarling glare that hammered into the side of my head.

"Ahhhh, Eustass, Eustass, Eustass… you mind if I call you Eustass?" I ignored the litany of curses that streamed out. "Let me tell you something interesting: before today, I never thought I'd be saying this, but… One day…" I chuckled—honestly chuckled—as I poked his chest. "I just might trust you all enough to tell you."

And then, before he could snag and wring my neck, I darted away from him, past the rest of the captains and spun around to give them all a smile as I swayed back on my heels.

"Just be waa~aa~aarned! If—and that is a very big 'if,' mind you—that day should come…"

I swung my arms out wide, and let them behold the sheer everything that had come to pass, that was happening, and still had yet to be.

"You will all look back on this day… as nothing but a footnote."