Trough the CP9

Franky was still somewhat processing what he had witnessed, despite his hands reverently working on the project that he had guarded in his heart since before Tom's death along with the long-nosed sniper taking over the less complex calculations, the raccoon-dog completing the more difficult ones in less time it took to blink, leaving behind only the task of turning creation of the dream-ship into a series of tasks that could be accomplished one after the other.

Usopp, the steel-jawed, long-nosed sniper that kept sneaking tearful glances at the Going Merry, which rested, beached, not far from the clandestine shipyard where Franky was slowly turning the massive quantities of Adam Wood into pieces to be assembled: he created only the unique pieces, leaving the preparation of perfect copies of the smaller components to the decidedly weird sniper. He threw every single, simplest piece in his own mouth, rolling it about, only to take the material it was made of and replicate it perfectly.

It felt like cheating, but it sped up the work considerably: and given the sheer magnitude of it, the cyborg couldn't exactly refuse him, not when the pieces were exactly as needed, down to the meanest detail. Projections and calculations were executed perfectly by the quiet raccoon-dog, while Franky spent what little time was left into learning all he could from the book on dials that Usopp had given him.

Nothing in there could truly compare to his super cola-based engine, or to the kind of weapon he could realize with it, but the applications could be put together in countless, clever manners, and the plans quickly lined up by Usopp were far from impractical, or unrealizable. They simply needed some time, time that the rest of the crew would apparently be spending infiltrating Eines Lobby.

They've got a super pair of balls on them, that's for sure. He blinked quickly to avoid tearing up: theirs was a story worthy of being sung. A small, harmless caravel from the East Blue toughing it up on the Grand Line because she loved the crew that sailed on her, to the point of creating an actual ship-fairy? It was enough to move even the unfeeling heart of Ice-for-brains, if he ever heard of it

"You're crying again, Franky." Usopp's remark was ignored for a second.

Then the cyborg sniffed loudly and shook his head, his focus remaining on the ship that was coming into being: "Shut up! I'm not crying, you're crying!"

As he worked, his mind went back to the last words Coby, their scary, potentially insane First Mate had told him: "This ship will bring the King to the One Piece, make her fierce."

He wanted fierce? He'd cry in wonder once he saw the finished product.

"So it's true." the dull monotonous voice of Rob Lucci cut the quiet silence that the trio composed by a steel-jawed sniper, the human-reindeer, and the cyborg-shipwright, "Tom's apprentice is building a ship with Adam Wood."

He was a tall and slim, yet muscular man with arched eyebrows and a close-shaved goatee. With shoulder-length, wavy black hair tied in a ponytail, he gazed flatly at the small, clandestine shipyard that had been raised quickly, tailored for the project that Franky was bringing into reality. Then he sighed, "Well, it cannot be helped..."

The cool-looking member of galley-la violently jerked back, avoiding a punch that would have caved his head in, and sidestepped a kick that left deep cracks on the ground it was on. Once he landed, further away from his targets, his attention shifted to the straw hat-wearing man who was cracking his knuckles, a heavy expression on his face as he spoke: "You're the strongest spoon, right?"

"Spook, captain." Zoro's voice rang hollowly while he rose from his sleeping position, not far from where the confrontation was about to take place: "Not spoon."

"I'm going to scrap the plate with him, so it doesn't matter."

"Wipe the floor." the swordsman then tilted his head, as if suddenly considering something before talking again: "By any chance, did those expressions come from Coby?"

Luffy nodded seriously, only to widen the distance between his feet and push a fist against the ground. His rubbery skin rippled, and it gained a shiny gleam, only for his form to begin to steam while he reddened considerably.

Then he vanished, and a split second later, he had reappeared in front of the enemy, which instead was already skyrocketing towards the city of Water 7, the blow snapping his breath and coughing him off guard.

Luffy followed in hot pursuit, and the fight was on.


Eines Lobby stood in all of its magnificence while a group of four marines broke off from their much bigger formation, slinking off among the buildings without breaking their stride. Boarding the Puffing Tom without being noticed ahd been child's play: between Mikita's power, Robin's experience, Sanji's inhuman strength, and my insane determination, it took us less than a handful of seconds to jump the rearguard and walk into the last carriage.

Truly, the Puffing Tom was a wonder. I felt almost jittery as I followed a silent Robin into a marine-filled carriage, only to witness all their necks snap in a single second by the use of her power.

"Let's dress up then." I immediately started taking off my shirt and trousers, taking care to switch Mr. Five's fruit into a pocket I could close with a button. I could only feel my heart hammering into my chest, and the temptation of just taking a bite had never been greater. We were trying for a furtive approach, but the chance of being found out was there, and what would I do in case I was forced to face a CP9 member? I will push through him. Let's hope my training will pay up. The thought wa less comforting that what I hoped for, but part of me could only feel eagerness at the idea. I wanted to test myself, I wanted to see what I could actually do in one versus one fight.

Sanji flat out went unconscious at the idea of changing clothes in the same room of Mikita and Robin, but I ignored him with a scoff: "We need to reach the Tower of Justice..."

Robin was deadly silent as she led us in a pattern that, thanks to a careful use of her Devil Fruit's power, let us sneak through unmolested. Frankly... it was boring. The only sound filling my ears was the quiet sequence of our steps over the white noise of Eines Lobby itself, and everything kind of looked the same. There was a dull, distant roar of an infinitely large waterfall coupled with the sea's waves crashing on the shore. The marching of countless marines rang among the buildings, which echoed in a cacophony that quickly began to grate on my nerves.

If not for the imposing gates that were always easy to spot, I would have gotten lost several times already, and even that would have been more exciting. No: all we did was walking, and none stopped us.

One gate after the other, we walked forward while Robin's silence grew tenser and tenser, to the point that I could almost taste it in the air. So skillful was she, that I barely recognized the color of some of the buildings we walked through: but we didn't cross with the hordes of wolves riding marines, we barely saw the back of the two giants guarding one of the gates, and I genuinely thought we'd meet the three-faced judge, if only to sneak past him... instead, nothing.

"I can see why you were Mr. Zero's partner, Miss All Sunday." Mikita let out a low chuckle while we strolled across the last bridge, and into the miniature island that hosted the Tower of Justice, and arguably all that we were looking for.

Robin simply glanced back, a deadly blank expression on her face, and I noticed that her hands were trembling. Following instinct more than anything else, I took one in mine, dragging on me her hollow, wide eyes: "We'll walk through them, and rise beyond: I swear it."

I squeezed her hand, and I tried to transmit just how much I believed in what we were doing. I no longer felt the annoying weight of the wedge my existence had somewhat forced into the crew of the future Pirate King, but wasn't it up to me to care for each of us, especially since Luffy was a bit too thick-headed for it? "Robin, fear is a part of what keeps us alive, but don't let the past dictate your future."

Her eyes, if possible, widened even more, and I knew without asking that she was thinking about the small, black pawn with her features that she refused to give me the 'History' of back when we played chess. I saw when she realized that I knew, and I felt when she understood that I believed she was strong enough to bear her past with a straight back. Her eyes narrowed minutely as she fully worked through the implications of what she had just realized, only to squeeze my hand back with as much strength as she was capable of: "We're friends, aren't we?"

Under the shadow cast by the Justice Tower, over the rumble of the chaotic waves beneath the island, the question felt thinner than paper, frailer than glass: just like Robin was in that moment.

Sanji and Mikita, for their part, understood that something was going on and they held back.

"All for one, and one for all." I smiled at her, "Together."

She took a hitched, deep breath that shook her shoulders, and a genuine smile blossomed on its own on her face while her back lost some of its tension: "Together." she repeated, and left my hand before striding forward purposefully.

Faintly, just beneath the echo of our steps, hidden amongst the white noise that surrounded us, I thought I heard an odd, joyful speck of laughter: "Derishishishi..."


One floor after the other, the four pirates kept rising, infiltrating the enemy's stronghold without a hitch, until, of course, everything came to a stop.

Mikita, Sanji, Coby, and Robin, still dressed up as marines, walked into a giant room that looked like some sort of zen-garden: there was real grass on the ground, an actual outcropping of trees, and the relaxing gurgle of sluggish, miniature rivers that worked their way through the artificial landscape. Quickly, they transitioned into a jog as the archeologist decided to change the pace, only to stand suddenly still when three dark-dressed figured appeared in a blur on the other side of the room.

"I told you I smelled intruders." a dark-skinned man, with a Fu Manchu mustache, a pointed goatee, and long hair braided in a thick queue that somewhat resembled a scorpion's tail spoke first, an ugly grin stretching his scarred face, "The wolf always knows when sheep walk into his den..."

"Chapapapa!" a decidedly odd, ball-shaped person with an actual zip on his face nodded eagerly: "Of course! Because you are a Wolf-human, your Devil Fruit power..."

*zip* the zipline was actually pulled closed by a white-haired, face-painted man that was holding a khakkhara, a staff traditionally carried by Buddhist monks, whose eyes hovered with interest over the newcomers: "Oh..."

Before he could begin to talk, Sanji darted forward at speeds unheard of before, and kicked the wolf-zoan so hard, that even if the latter raised his arms in an instinctive cross block, he was bowled over and crashed into the nearest wall, tumbling into the following room, a flurry of kicks following up and forcing him to transition into his hybrid form to ward against the determined cook.

Ordinarily, he didn't like to go in a fight with the purpose to kill. His kicks had been developed to defend the BaratiƩ, and his hands were meant to create wonders in a kitchen... but his opponent was a Zoan-user, and if he died, there was a chance that the Going Merry could keep sailing with them as her own person... spirit... wolf... thingy. So Sanji didn't relent, and he kept pushing, feeling like he was kicking steel and being hit by a raging beast. Eh, the comparison came naturally, and almost stole him a smile: It's just like fighting a less dumb Moss-head...

While this happened, the pink-haired pirate dressed as a marine shrugged off his white shirt and beret, rolling his shoulders to free them before pointing at one enemy, and then to the other: "So Mikita, which do you prefer, freak number one, or freak number two?"

"You're the freakiest of them all." the blonde, blue-eyed chocolatier-pirate replied while blurring forward, her legs pushing with enough strength to move a normal person concentrated into a mass that amounted to a single kilogram, only to shift to her top of ten tons when delivering a powerful knee thrust into the barely-there raised staff of her chosen target.

The metal staff, for all that it had been forged to work as a weapon handled by a super-human man, folded like paper, and the CP-9 agent behind it was flung back, not unlike his Fu-Manchu companion. "Khyahahaha!" Mikita laughed as she witnessed once more just how much she had been underusing her own abilities: without even beginning to touch the more complex, cerebral tricks that Coby had suggested, she had been able to match Mr. Two, merely after a few days of trying new stuff.

It had been months since then, months during which she had never stopped casually arguing with the First Mate about this and that, a length of time during which Coby had seemed genuinely overjoyed to be able to help her expand her abilities. She wasn't as emotive as the others, but on the sea, you couldn't help growing some affection for your vessel: and seeing yet another of the Straw Hats' First Mate's plan unfold was always a treat.

"It looks like we have the situation well in hand." Coby's voice rang with certainty as he started to jog to a very sedate pace towards the agent that was mumbling unintelligible things through the closed zipline, "You go ahead, I'm sure one of the others will come to my rescue if need arises, you know why we're here, and what we're looking for."

His first punch blurred forward and missed his target, who seemed to fold in the air to avoid being hit, only for a sweeping kick to bat him aside and away from the door that Robin had been aiming for when leading her friends towards where what they wanted was.

With her way free, it was a matter of minutes before she walked into the main office of the Justice Tower, her powers already having informed her of just what she was going to face. Yes, a what, and not a who, because the person in question had very little of human, either in appearance or, more importantly, in his soul.

"So it's true!" Spandam was a pale man of slim stature with wavy, wild lavender hair in a layered style that was roughly shoulder-length and parted in the middle. He had black markings around his large eyes, his narrow nose was of a dark red, and he was already waving a decidedly elephant-looking saber in Robin's direction. "You dare...!

But he couldn't finish talking as Ohara's survivor fell forward and rolled, avoiding the suddenly elongating trunk-blade only to cross her arms to help her focus while her powers answered to her command. The annoying voice of perhaps one of the most detestable beings on the planet was silenced immediately.

Zoro himself hadn't been able to hold onto his weapon when she first walked on the Going Merry, and even then, he was ten times the swordsman that that particular caricature of a clown could ever be: slender arms blossomed from the shoulder of the CP-9's boss, and a quick, unforgiving twist snapped his neck cleanly.

Robin watched his body fall with banal solemnity while the living weapon retreated into its resting state, clattering to the stone floor with the ring of steel. Arching an eyebrow at the appearance of yet another thing that proved Coby's predictions and confirmed the feasibility of his mad plan to save the Going Merry, she began to loot the place. Her experience aided her when her Devil Fruit's power wasn't enough to make her discern everything she needed immediately, and with distaste, she began by squirreling away the golden snail transponder that the man had at his wrist.

That was one thing she'd keep from Coby, knowing that he'd gleefully blow it in Enies as they left, only to see the Marines annihilate themselves, only to see that which had caused her so much fear and tension vanish. Even as she considered the less charitable aspects of the First Mate's charater, she felt herself smile, and this time, she didn't bother masking her reaction, not because nobody could see, but because she knew that whatever may come, her crew would be her for her.


I had never actually found myself into a one vs one fight, and while I was surprised at the speed and the strength that I could feel in my blows, the zip-lipped agent I was facing kept folding around them as if he was a piece of paper, impossibly avoiding even those attacks that he couldn't have simply moved out of the way of.

"How the hell..." I punched high and I followed with an instinctive elbow thrust when I spotted something moving to my left, "Do you keep dodging?"

"The Kami-e allows users to make their body extraordinarily flexible in order to avoid any attacks, float, and bend their body like a piece of paper! Chapapapa!" Fukurou replied as he kept avoiding my blows, and I blinked when inspiration caught me.

After all, if one needed help, on some occasions, the only thing to do was to ask. "And how do you train it?"

"It is the opposite of Tekkai! Chapapapa!" the bastard avoided a knee thrust only to stand still, receiving a punch in the middle of his solar plexus, that made me flinch back as he didn't move: "This technique hardens the users' muscles to the level of iron, allowing them to withstand and effectively nullify any damage they might have taken from attacks, Chapapapa! While the Kami-e involves relaxing the body completely, in order to flow around the opponents' attacks!"

Fukurou of the CP-9 assumed a martial arts stance a few meters in front of me, his expression blank while he kept talking my ears off. Okay, two techniques done, four to go.

I ducked under a kick only to roll to my right in order to dodge a hit that came from behind, Fukurou having moved at a speed that my eyes could barely follow. It's nice to see that getting used to do everything without glasses is paying off now. I rose my arms just in time to parry another kick that bowled me over, making me roll over the grass that covered the floor. Even if I felt my forearms scream in pain, I was grinning: I had vague memories of those techniques from the manga, and receiving a refresher when it was so readily provided could hardly hurt, could it? "How can you be so fast!?" I affected a frightened tone, which my opponent caught, hook, line, and sinker.

"Soru allows the users to move at extremely high speeds in order to avoid attacks, as well as to attack at higher speeds and with greater power, Chapapapa!" Fukurou blurred through the distance that separated us and tried to poke my eyes out, only for me to narrowly dodge. Luckily, the talkative assassin kept explaining: "The principle of this move is to kick off the ground at least ten times in the blink of an eye!"

"Don't bullshit me!" I roared back while I rose a leg to catch a kick on my shin, proceeding to deliver a punch of my own on the nearest shoulder: this time, I pushed through the resistance I found, and it was the assassin to be sent back, "I saw you bounce off the air, as if you could fly!"

"Of course!" Fukurou was really a talkative fellow, wasn't he? I didn't even have to really try: "Geppou is merely an application of Soru, in which the strength in our legs is such that we can push off cushions of air to stay afloat! The same strength needed to kick the ground ten times in a second is released in a single push while hardening the sole of your feet!"

That's four techniques done. I nodded to myself while I rose my guard, exchanging another deadly sequence of kicks and punches with a trained assassin that simply couldn't stop explaining what he was doing. Part of me was elated at the easy success of my impromptu interrogation, another felt kind of cheated out of the fight I had been spoiling for: this was meant to be challenging! While nowhere near Luffy or Zoro's level of innate idiocy, I too wanted to put my life on the line by fighting directly, instead of betting it on my own schemes!

Fukurou appeared once more in front of me, and I tightened every muscle I had, from my asshole to my clenched fists, I put all of my training into contracting all I could control consciously, and remained with my guard raised... the hit bowled me over, and I was flung through a small outcropping of trees. Fuck... then I realized something, and busted out laughing: I didn't feel the pain of the blow: simply, my feet lost traction at the wrong moment. Tekkai is a go...

I didn't care much for the Shigan or the Ryankaku: given what I had just been told, I rather suspected that they were merely the clever combination of Tekkai and Soru: one tightening your fingers to pierce the opponent, the other applying the 'iron body' to the tip of your foot while slashing with all the power needed for a Soru. It kind of made sense, and while I would have loved to waste the entire day slugging it with Fukurou as I slowly kept unveiling the secret techniques of their merry band of assassins, I had more important shit to do.

I rose my guard, and I smiled madly: if I dealt with this fucker fast enough, I'd try to butt in in Sanji and Jabra's fight. We're here to steal what's needed, not for a standoff.

I kicked the ground repeatedly, cracking it slightly before all that power exploded as if somehow, kicking the same point was capable of turning the kinetic energy into potential, which discharged after a second, propelling me forward: "Ahahahah!" I couldn't help but laugh as I bowled myself over, unable to control it just yet, but elated because of the development. This was where my ascent to true personal might began: this was where I turned from an observer into a player.

My heart sang with joy as I whipped about, raining a hail of blows onto the nearest, black blur: my knuckles split, my hands were soon dyed red, but I could only keep punching, each staggering moment of pain before the hit went through enhancing the personal satisfaction I was feeling.

My first right punch was avoided by Fukurou folding around the blow, only to transition into a Shigan aiming for my heart: he was too close for me to avoid him, so I tightened everything once more, turning the resulting push into something I needed to backflip. With my muscles still contracted, I suddenly pushed my legs straight into the air, keeping my feet as steely as I could, and for a fraction of a second, I felt a faint resistance where there should have been none. Geppou... getting there!

My failed backflip made me fall face first into the ground, where I rolled to the side to avoid a deadly kick from Fukurou, who had apparently decided to literally zip his lips closed to avoid instructing me further.

Back to my feet, I kicked the ground, and put myself at a safe distance from the guy that was now mumbling through his forcefully closed lips. I couldn't help the grin on my face: I felt it widen until it hurt: I felt the various bruises on my body like marks of merit, as each of those blows had been meant to kill me, and he hadn't succeeded, because apparently my constant efforts were now paying off in full.

Sure, he was the weakest of the CP-9 bunch, but I had to start somewhere, didn't I?

When he rocketed towards me in a Soru, I copied his movement, tilting my torso back at the last moment while I swung my foot hardened with Tekkai: I felt a dull, ripping sensation as my limb tore through my opponent's head, our relative speed enhancing my hit to something his 'Iron Body' couldn't hope to oppose.

Then the pain caught up with me, and I rolled to the ground holding my side, where a finger-sized puncture hole was seeping blood onto my white, marine-issued trousers. Even then, I couldn't stop laughing: I had made it. Yeah, I'll leave Jabra to Sanji though.


AN

While I want to keep up with the fast-pacing of this story, skipping everything would make the whole thing meaningless: so I opted for a chapter like this one. I won't repeat the fights that happened exactly like canon, having them on the background of the new elements.

Of course, the infiltration team managed up to the tower where the other members of the CP9 resided: Robin has a lifetime of experience in this sort of operation, and Mikita too, while Coby can be sneaky, and Sanji would do everything if a woman asked nicely. I used this chapter to solve Robin's psychological hold-ups in a way that mirrors canon but it's not quite the same: here she walks into acceptance of their 'friends', as described by Jaguar D. Saul, with her head held high, instead of falling into it while despairing.

Also, we have the MC first actual, classical fight: he has the opponent spill his guts about every technique, because he kind of needs it to keep his breath. For all of his self-training and constant pushing, he's been doing so for only since East Blue: that's less than a year of work without having any extraordinary talent, gift, or Devil Fruit power. He still has the explosion-Devil Fruit with him, of course, but it's kind of a last resource, and while he's being punched about, he wants to test himself. A Devil Fruit right now would count as 'cheating', not against the enemy, but against the effort he put in all this time to get stronger.

Still, he's a clever bastard, and he squeezed his opponent for all he was worth before ending the fight. Now he knows the actual theory behind the six powers, and he has some time to figure out the more interesting things. I hope I managed to convey all of that in the chapter.

With the next chapter, I'll close up all the fights and show the minor surprises that I've prepared. Two to three chapters from now, we'll be done with Thriller Bark, and since I've forgotten completely about it until now, I'll drop some bounties too in the next chapter, preparing a small twist that will inject some more originality in this canon-soup.

Still, as always, opinions? Let me know what you think! And check out Coby: Thunder King, the twin story of this fic.