She threw the newspaper into the nearest trash can, knowing that no change would follow. The powers out there were still too stable for that.
Big Mom's fall merely meant a free place among the Emperors of the Seas. Some pirates would now give everything to get the post and be among the most powerful rulers on the blue waves of supposed freedom. It wouldn't be long before they found someone to plug the hole left behind.
Most people probably had Trafalgar Law as an alternative in the back of their minds; the only person who looked like he would fit the bill. However, he didn't do well in games like this. There were so many pirates who were better suited; it just needed one of them to take the sceptre.
When Whitebeard fell, it had been Blackbeard who had made the leap to the podium, and if one took the information that circulated through the oppressive alleys of many islands seriously, there was one candidate that most already saw in the role of Big Mom.
Edward Weevil; Whitebeard's son, as the rumour went.
How much truth there was in the rumour, Naoe didn't care. Whoever would take over, it couldn't get any worse than Blackbeard. For that, most pirates lacked ruthlessness alongside powers no one had seen before. He alone was someone to upset the balance.
A problem they all had to find a solution to.
The sigh on her lips made her shake her head.
What lay in the future could still be changed by so many people that it was pointless to ponder. Much more important was the present, which was slowly, with every second, turning into a past.
She let her gaze wander and tried to find a quiet spot between all the people pressed close together where she could linger longer. Breaks were important, and she hadn't eaten yet either. Putting her Devil Fruit to use required large amounts of concentration and energy. A small price to pay for having the world in her hands – unwanted and yet more gift than curse.
Eyes fixed on the ground, Naoe squeezed through two people whose hot bodies constricted her for a moment. She was too small to see anything but broad backs and constantly moving limbs as she looked up. It was all nothing more than an endless blur of smells, sounds and seamless transitions between white and grey garments. It wore on her patience, gave her a headache, and at some point Naoe decided against eating. Instead, she sought refuge again in one alley, where she leaned against a wall and took a breath. It was like cutting off someone's air while letting only the bad oxygen through. However people got through their daily lives, for her it was nothing but the horror of a cramped city.
She took two more breaths before pushing herself off the wall and moving. The alley slowly passed her by, letting her listen to the sounds in the background – conversations that faded further and further into the distance. With each step, she returned to herself, calming herself inwardly. Nothing was more relaxing than a quiet moment in the hustle and bustle of others.
It accompanied her a little way before the insistent sound of her transponder snail made her listen. Disgusted, she retrieved the handy little animal from the inside pocket of her poncho and answered the call.
"What is it?" The grumble in her voice reached the other side of the line, causing her interlocutor to clear their throat. The rustle of paper filtered through to her, bringing to the fore the chaos that must be going on at her assistant's house.
Only when everything was in place did Koala's cheerful voice address her. "I have a job for you!"
"That was quick ..."
"You don't sound very excited. Didn't the first job go well?"
"Went beautifully." She couldn't help snorting. It had been a minimal disaster. Annoying enough to push the subject off the table. "But this is the second job today. Something like this wears on me, you know that, right?"
"Does it? Didn't you once say you could go back in time a whole four times a day?"
"I like to limit myself to two, so I can still escape after that."
"Two, four, there's no difference. You can handle it!" As if she knew better, Koala stepped around the boundaries. It had always been like that. Without that confidence, there was no way to improve. Somehow, it took someone to back her, even if there were obstacles. In the beginning, she had been able to go back in time just once and had been completely drained afterwards. By now, her strength was enough for four attempts, even if it forced her to the bottom of immobility. Twice was enough to fill the measure. A third attempt was considered an emergency and another a fervent death wish.
"Anyway, is the client on this island?"
"He is!" Matching Koala's joyful statement, the transponder snail looked at Naoe, grinning broadly. "I guess the people on Rapat always seem willing to improve."
"From the looks of this island, I can understand that. What information do we have?"
Again, the rustling sounded on the other side before her interlocutor caught the word. "Not much. It's a man in his early twenties. He wants it done quickly. The job is already checked, so I can assure you he's a good guy. At least in appearance. He's young. He can't have done that much wrong yet."
"If he is guilty of Rapat's construction, then he has done everything wrong." Naoe couldn't stifle the hint of mockery. The island was far too confining for that. Added to that, the call for quick services wasn't something she was happy to face. People tended to underestimate the past – they were all just in far too much of a hurry. "And where do I have to go?"
"East to the outskirts of the city, to the fishermen's harbour."
"So from 'in the middle of everything' to 'on the edge of nothing'."
"Naoe, now stop nagging!" While the transponder snail gave her a reprimanding look, Koala underlined the unpleasant feeling with an annoyed voice. "You don't have to like the island to work your jobs. Go! Become useful!"
Although Naoe was still trying to gasp for air to say something in reply, she was left alone. Koala didn't have time for that and presumably neither did Naoe. But venting the displeasure a little was better than swallowing it. There were already enough other problems consuming her instead.
She stowed the transponder snail in its usual place before continuing to follow the alleys. If they hadn't put all the stalls and shops on a straight path through the island, people would have been better distributed. Simultaneously, she didn't understand why no one was leaving. There were so many islands in the new world with so much more space than Rapat. Most would have been happier in such a place. Certainly.
With a dismissive gesture, she pushed the thought away. Her interest shouldn't be in things that were short-lived. In the first place, there was her customer to take care of. The fishermen's harbour was already nearby, which also meant that she could make her escape as soon as she had done what she needed to do. There were other islands that also demanded her services and at the moment, she would prefer any place to Rapat.
The walls of the homes gained distance from each other as time went on. Space seemed to have been left towards the outer walls that framed the town visually, because it made a prettier impression from the outside. If someone wasn't in the middle of crowds of people and sweaty fabrics, the first view was something to behold. Similar to a small fortress when viewed from the sea. At first, one didn't want to think about how quickly the cold grey of the buildings could make people sick of it. Everything that made the first impression inviting revealed its ugly side on closer inspection.
Shaking her head, Naoe targeted the outer rock to lean over the edge and take a look down. There were perhaps four yards separating her from the sandy bottom of the shore. Four yards that she managed in one leap.
The brownish grains crunched unpleasantly under the soles of her dark blue boots, causing her to freeze in place for a few seconds. Although it was so much quieter than the loud commotion inside the town, the rubbing sound caused her jumpy unease inside. A little as if she was being watched. As if she couldn't escape in those moments because she didn't know where her enemy was hiding.
Her eyes roamed over the expanse of sand and sea until her attention lingered on a small fishing boat docked near a tiny house; presumably a storeroom where they checked and stowed their haul.
Naoe tried to get a clearer picture of her destination. It was more run-down than expected. The white facade of the house was barely recognisable. Dirt adorned the wooden slats and mould formed at the bottom edge, from where it slowly made its way upwards. The dampness was taking its toll on the shelter. The roof was missing tiles, so the bare wood could barely hold its rotten substance together. Eventually it would collapse, starting with the slates that were supposed to protect the interior from rain.
It was a sad sight that made Naoe slow down. Far too often, she had seen small sheds and homesteads die. They decayed due to lack of funds needed to maintain them. Often there was simply a lack of money.
Actually, it was always the money.
She dragged herself the last few yards. Only then did she round the small building. The heavy feeling in her heart didn't pass for a while. Knowing that the owners must lack a few things seemed like an eternal page that she couldn't turn. Perhaps that was exactly why she had been summoned to this place. It wasn't unlikely that somewhere in the past there was a point where things had to be better. Sometimes unexpected opportunities hid in the past days that nobody noticed until it was too late.
Without further ado, Naoe gathered her courage and took a breath before opening the front door. Instantly, musty smelling air hit her, bringing with it a metallic tainted smell. A stench that prevented her from opening the door completely. Everything in her trembled, hesitant to take even one step forward. But the job was waiting for her and she couldn't keep her clients waiting. Consequently, she pushed the barrier open with a kick, greedily sucking in the air of the outside world before entering.
And she faltered.
Her attention fell instantly on the body at her feet. Facing the ground, he bathed in his own blood - clotted and thick, sticky in the face of the weather. Brown hair had stuck together while his skull no longer held together. Pink splotchy bones stood out; cracked in places. Grey stains adorned the once rosy mass beneath, now adorned with splinters of wood – and the only person responsible for this had to be the man standing opposite her at the window. Though he had his back turned to her, Naoe would have recognised him anywhere.
"Your presence surprises me. You killed my client." She lingered in the doorway, trying not to make a false move despite her casual pose.
And even as he slowly turned to face her, she couldn't move from the spot, stuck in that frame like the fearless fighter she had never been. The only thing she knew was that he needed her alive. As long as he wanted something from her, he wouldn't kill her.
"He was in my way. I have no use for people who are nothing but trouble. After all, I was kind enough to let him die quickly." He kept his hands clasped behind his back as he took a step towards her. Since he had been banished from the navy, his appearance seemed sombre. He had swapped his white coat for a brown one, keeping the usual check pattern. The narrow sunglasses were still the same and covered his eyes, much to Naoe's dismay. When someone possessed features as stiff as Vergo's, it took an expression to interpret. Something she couldn't get from him. Not knowing what was going on in this man's head was one of the most dangerous things in a situation like this.
"Don't mistake your kindness for cocky action. You're here because of me. That's logical. What do you want from me? Isn't it enough that you're still alive against all odds?" Naoe's shoulders shook with tension.
"The same as before. Your services."
"So you want to mess with Trafalgar Law again and almost die in an explosion? You realise you don't stand a chance against him? He was stronger than your self of those days."
"That's why I'm taking my place."
His cold yet pompous words elicited a loveless laugh from Naoe. Vergo's arrogance had long known no bounds. They had gone up in smoke with his mind on Punk Hazard.
"Rejected. I think it's fine the way it is. They kicked you out of the Navy for being a traitor. As Doflamingo's henchman, that punishment is even too lenient. I'd have hanged you for that. It would have been better if you had been blown to pieces in the explosion. It's shameful enough that someone was stupid enough to save you. Besides, you never were much for justice. The Navy wasn't for you. I'm certainly not going to leave you behind just so you can kill Law. What would that result in? A megalomaniac escaping Impel Down and a dodgy mutt doing whatever madness tells him to do? Thanks, no. You and Doflamingo are welcome to stay where you are." In defence, Naoe raised her hands, making it clear she wouldn't comply with his request. It was the third time this month he had demanded her services. The defeat against Trafalgar, as well as the near death, had dented his pride and just to undo that little thing, he ran after her like an eternal companion she couldn't shake. The biggest problem, however, was that he would never let her go.
Slowly, Vergo brought his hands out from behind his back and tilted his head. Systematically, her eyes fell on a spoon stuck to his cheek, now flashing in the dusty light. The corners of his mouth visibly moved downwards, dragging the oddly trimmed beard with it. He was probably grinding his teeth, for his cheek muscles twitched conspicuously at irregular intervals. "You can't refuse me service forever. You should be grateful that I ask a nothing like you for help at all."
"Oh yes, I forgot. The great Vergo, who now has no one, is better off than I am." His provocative manner spurred her on. It was disgusting, exhausting, not fair, the way he thought he was better than everyone. He was always looking down on everything and everyone who wasn't officially above him or had made an impression. In his eyes, she was but a pitiful light of the revolutionary army.
"Not letting you go is insane in this case. You are ready to escape, and no one can go through your windows if you don't want them to."
"At least you've realised that part. I may not be a fighter, but that doesn't matter when you're a master of escape. You need my power because anything else is too complicated. If you killed me, you'd have to track down my Devil Fruit again somewhere on this planet, and who knows who would eat it next?"
"Maybe." His reply didn't make sense to her words, but he had achieved his goal. She was too distracted by his behaviour to fight back in time.
His speed was impossible to detect with the eye.
Even before she realised what was happening, he stood in front of her and drew out. She knew his first move all too well. He had a pattern. That was precisely why she bent back and narrowly escaped his fist, which he swung up for a hook to the chin.
Knowing that escape in this way was impossible, Naoe tried to fight back. She caught herself and went for a sidekick, which Vergo countered without effort. The resistance ate away at her bones. His arms were so hard that they could only have been hardened with Armament Haki. He was making a joke of her weakness.
Before she could pull her leg back, he grabbed her by the ankle and squeezed her bones. She could feel the throbbing under her skin, feel the pain move up into her thighs. Behind it lurked a pounding heart whose panic couldn't be contained.
With a jerk, Vergo stole the ground from under her still-standing foot and flung her through the air, releasing her moments later so that she hit the wall beneath the window back-first.
She struggled for breath, trying to ignore the throbbing in her spine, but couldn't help coughing. Her gasp sounded like the only noise around, if she looked away from the roaring in her ears.
"You should offer me your services." Vergo didn't look at her, stood with his back to her as he had in the beginning.
"I can give myself the bullet as well." Panting, Naoe put her head back. "That's less pathetic than smoothing over your past."
"Children like you tend to die early."
"We don't die sooner than the old bones of piracy do." For show, she kept up the heavy breathing. The pain in her back eased in stages and Vergo knew as well as she did all she could really do was give up. There was no way past him, at least if one wasn't equipped with necessary strength. She wanted to make him feel she was even weaker than he had assumed.
Yet she was used to stronger pain.
The bit she had taken from Vergo was acceptable, did she thought back to all the blows Koala had already given her.
One hand pressed to the floor, Naoe manifested one of her windows. A plain one with an old wooden frame that would take her to another place. This time, the hinges made no sound; escape became suddenly easy.
Only when her legs disappeared into nothingness and she was ready to push herself off did she stop her gasping breaths and turn her attention to Vergo. "Maybe one day you'll realise that you're not at the top of everything. You may be stronger than me, but I'm tougher than you."
"The naivety of a child." He turned just a little way towards her so that he could see over his shoulder. It was only because of this that Naoe slid forward and remained sitting just on the edge.
"Adults are naive, too. We just don't like to admit it."
"Your idiocy will get you killed one day, Naoe." Vergo turned his gaze forward again, as if giving up on her altogether for this moment. He would certainly get his hands on her more often as long as she did her job. She couldn't disappear. There was no good reason for her to do so. Just because she couldn't get rid of someone, she couldn't just vanish. It would do too much damage to the reputation of the revolutionaries.
"Will it? Will it open a window to the dead and swallow my soul?"
"No, it will tear your soul apart." It almost sounded like pity, what he was saying. "One day, your soul will beg for mercy and you will have none."
"No more than you ever had." Without further ado, Naoe pushed herself off the edge and dropped through the window. It was a brief fall through nothingness. Free of everything, she slid through the second opening on the other side, which took her as far away from Vergo as possible, according to her wish. Clumsily, her fall ended on a rooftop, quite central to the city.
Feet first, Naoe stumbled forward before falling lengthwise on her nose. The throbbing coursed through her entire skull before, with a grumble, she raised her head and surveyed her surroundings. The chatter of the people reached her ears once more.
She had escaped.
So she turned on her back to breathe deeply in and out. Her soul would plead for mercy one day and she would have none to spare; a prediction that left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue. Vergo knew how to drive those around him mad.
Slowly, Naoe picked herself up and patted off her clothes – mainly the poncho that covered her old pink blouse and black trousers well.
She had to get off this island. Vergo was too close on her heels and if she stayed, she would soon have him in front of her again. To get away, however, she needed a ship, and since she didn't own one, her only option was the harbour in the west, where everything bigger than a fishing boat docked.
From the roof, the newly set destination could be seen clearly. Few ships had dropped anchor, but one of them would help her escape.
At least she had to get as far as the next island to gain some space.
So she put one foot forward, aiming right at one ship. She would escape.
And she would get rid of Vergo.
