Chapter 8 - Breaded Fish

Under the shimmering moonlight of the Calm Belt, where islands dared not to be inhabited - because, well, Calm Belt -, Admiral Kizaru found himself having a laid-back chat with... well, himself.

He casually mused, "Now, let's see, I've got an island to make livable. Piece of cake."

With a light-speed flicker, he whisked away some of the trees. "Ah, much better. Now, what's next? Oh, right, digging a massive cave. Easy, peasy."

He beamed a light brighter than a supernova, carving out the earth at, well, light speed. "Who needs a shovel when you've got the speed of... me?"

Regarding the seastone he stol-acquired. Acquired. Well, looking at it with a raised eyebrow, he shrugged. "Hmm, I should tell Vegapunk I did him a favor. His seastone stocks needed a vacation."

Tons of seastone vanished into the new hidden cave, and he grinned, utterly chill. "Ah, that's what I call borrowing with style. Now, the pièce de résistance - the secret resort!"

Throwing his hands casually into the air, he declared, "Voilà! A luxurious retreat in the middle of nowhere. They'll never see it coming."

He chuckled, enjoying his own laid-back sense of humor. "And hidden bunkers, laboratories... you know, just in case. Can't be too chill in this crazy world."

Pausing to glance around the now-transformed island, he mused, "I should open a travel agency. 'Chill Spots – Where Even Pirates Can't Find You.'"

He laughed at his own joke, the sound lazily echoing through the Calm Belt. "Ah, you've outdone yourself. Who said making secret islands couldn't be a chill barrel of laughs?"

Then he looked at what he built.

It was awful.

He really needed help.

"So, that concludes our deep dive into cognitive bias in organizational management," Kizaru stated with his trademark nonchalance, as if he was discussing the weather. "Remember, folks, understanding these biases does not mean you won't be affected by them!"

He flashed a grin, hands remaining comfortably in his pockets. "Now, go out there, be the cognitive bias ninjas I know you can be. But, you know, at your own pace. No rush."

With that, he ambled out of the room, the door closing behind him.

"Mmmmmmm….What to eat, what to eat…"

As Admiral Kizaru casually strolled down the lively corridor, he took a moment to review the eclectic mix of activities that had made up his past month—a month that turned out to be a peculiar concoction of tidiness, self-inflicted light-based chaos, and unexpected lessons from Garp.

Each morning started with Kizaru playing the role of the unofficial island guardian in the Blues. From sweeping beaches to seducing local barmaids and killing pirates, the admiral found himself making the world a cleaner, shinier place.

Then, for the rest of the morning, he tried to improve his secret island, and, above all, he had his…lessons.

In Kizaru's wild goose chase to unravel further mysteries of Haki, the enigmatic power that had had everyone buzzing like caffeinated bees in every nook and cranny of the Marines, he decided to hit up the one person with enough gusto and experience to guide him—the indomitable Vice Admiral Garp.

With a glint in his eye and an aura of laid-back enthusiasm, Kizaru had sauntered up to Garp, pitching his request for personal Haki training like it was the latest stand-up comedy routine. Garp, always game for an adventure and with a penchant for entertainment, had gleefully embraced the chance to coach the Admiral of Light. And to punch him. Strongly. In the face. Several times. .

And so, the daily routine unfolded. Kizaru, clad in his marine attire and seemingly oblivious to the laws of gravity, stood in a makeshift training area, his expression the epitome of coolness. Garp, on the other hand, dressed in what Kizaru called his "cultivator outfit, unleashed a barrage of punches that transformed Kizaru into a human pinball, bouncing off the ground with all the finesse of a dancing jello mold, as the old man screamed "Dodge More! No using your devil's fruit ! You dare !"

The hour-long sessions had become a slapstick symphony of crashes, thuds, and the occasional snort from Kizaru himself. As Garp's fists collided with their target, the admiral was dramatically pounded into the ground, creating shockwaves that could rival a rock concert. Yet, through it all, Kizaru maintained his signature nonchalant demeanor.

Amidst the chaotic days, there were moments of deep contemplation. The Admiral pondered the nature of light, the universe, and whether anyone would notice if he transformed into a human disco ball during official meetings. Drawing on his otherworldly knowledge of light - well, high school level knowledge, he studied political science and psychology at College, after all - he found a few novel applications for his power : holographic projections, refraction manipulation and light-based sonar.

With a sigh escaping his lips, Kizaru glanced at the calendar. Almost a month had passed, yet there was still something lingering on his to-do list.

Nami was sorrowful, enraged, and powerless to do anything about it. The Marines, under the command of the corrupted Captain Nezumi, descended upon the village, laying bare a longstanding deal with Arlong. They pointed accusatory fingers at her, alleging the concealment of stolen money. The Marines proceeded to confiscate her painstakingly gathered treasure, leaving her woefully short of the necessary amount for Cocoyasi's repurchase. Genzo somberly confirmed to the Marines that the funds were originally intended for the town's redemption.

In the heat of a confrontation with Arlong, Nami hurled accusations at him, claiming he had dispatched the Marines to seize her money. Arlong vehemently denied any involvement, casting menacing threats at Nami. Back in the village, Genzo rallied the villagers to stand against Arlong's tyranny. However, Nami, burdened by apprehension about potential casualties, found herself powerless to prevent the impending assault. Overwhelmed by a potent mix of despair and anger, she collapsed, confronting a dire situation that persisted until eventual intervention.

"Yo. The floor don't look that comfy, don't you have a bed ?"

It was the guy she had met a few weeks ago. The one she let alone facing the horrible pirates.

As Nami looked up at Borsalino, tears streaming down her face, a torrent of conflicting emotions overwhelmed her. The weight of betrayal, regret, and guilt bore down on her as she struggled to find the right words.

"You… You…"

Borsalino interrupted with a calm but stern tone, "Yes, I'm still alive. After all, pirates are nothing to me! I'm a Marine! An inspector, to be precise."

Nami's gaze shifted to the distinct white cloak draped over Borsalino's shoulders, a symbol of authority that now seemed to cast a judgmental shadow upon her. The gravity of her past actions hit her anew. Borsalino, seemingly unaffected by the turmoil within her, continued with a question that cut through the heavy silence.

"Are the Marines on this island good Marines?"

Nami, still caught in the whirlwind of her emotions, hesitated before responding. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her, and she could hardly meet Borsalino's gaze.

"They... they're not what you'd call good Marines," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Borsalino's expression remained impassive, but a hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes. Nami, unable to bear the weight of her guilt any longer, broke down into tears once again. The reality of her actions, the betrayal she had committed, and the consequences of aligning with Buggy for personal gain flooded her consciousness.

"Then, I guess I'll go and inspect them". Borsalino remarked, his tone unwavering.

Borsalino took Nami in a princess carry...No, I'm an unexpected turn of events, he grabbed Nami by the scruff of her shirt. The abruptness of the gesture left Nami startled, her tears momentarily forgotten as she found herself being taken along by the stern Marine.

"No…No NO ! You'll…"

Nami was horrified as Borsalino began aggressively pounding on the heavy door of the Marine base, his voice echoing through the surroundings.

"Hello! It's to know if you are good Marines!? Are you?"

The thought that the corrupted Marines might betray Borsalino and inform Arlong about his presence sent a surge of panic through Nami. The realization that her actions could lead to his demise overwhelmed her, and she began crying again.

In response to her distress, Borsalino's frustration peaked. With a swift, stern blow, he hit Nami on the head, reprimanding her, "Too cowardly. It would not do as a Marine."

The harsh reality of his words, coupled with the physical reprimand, left Nami stunned.

"As a Marine ? What do you mean ?"

After the stern reprimand, Borsalino's expression softened into a laid-back smile. "Hey, no need to panic," he said casually. "You've got two options here, sweetheart. You either face the executioner's block as an Arlong Pirate, or we make a deal, and you join the Marines with me. Explore the world, map out all the seas. And hey, I'll throw in the bonus of freeing your village. Cool deal, right?"

Nami shivered of terror as, in a flick of his fingers, Borsalino blew open the heavy iron door of the Marine base. And he still held her by her shirt's collar.

The urgent report reached Arlong's ears, carried by one of the fishmen from his crew. Nezumi, the Marine Captain, was under attack. Arlong's disdain for the captain was well-known; in fact, he despised the man. However, a replacement could spell trouble for the delicate balance of gold, tranquility, and the under-evaluated bounty that Arlong had meticulously maintained.

In response to the alarming news, Arlong wasted no time. He rushed through the town, his powerful strides resonating with purpose. The center of the settlement awaited, and Arlong's imposing figure emerged on the central square. His predatory gaze swept the surroundings, assessing the situation as the tension in the air crackled with the promise of impending conflict.

A hushed tension hung in the air as the villagers formed a half-circle, their eyes fixed on a scene unfolding at the center. On the opposite side of the circle, Marines were forced into uncomfortable positions, hands behind their backs, heads and feet on the floor, submissive in the face of an ominous presence.

At the heart of the commotion stood a man roughly as tall as Arlong, vehemently shaking the trembling Nezuki around by one arm. His voice echoed with rage as he berated the subdued Marines. At his feet, a dumbfounded Nami looked on, caught in the crossfire of the escalating confrontation. The silence of the villagers accentuated the intensity of the moment, a volatile tableau of power dynamics and impending chaos.

With seething anger, the man in the yellow suit hurled his disdain, declaring, "This is why you are a waste of the air you breathe!"

Abruptly, he turned towards the villagers, bowing deeply in apology. "I sincerely apologize for the trouble caused, though I understand words alone may not suffice. Rest assured, I will personally ensure that the Arlong pirates meet their end tonight."

What ?

Arlong sneered, his arrogance barely concealing the unease beneath : he remembered very well his period on the Grand Line, and the monsters that were on that sea. What if the man was one of them.?

"So, you think you can just waltz in here and threaten us, huh? I'd like to see you try. You won't be leaving in one piece - pun intended -, I guarantee it."

He then turned his attention to the trembling villagers. "You pathetic, spineless fools! Did you really think you could keep something like this from me? From now on, you will pay the price for your cowardice. If anyone ever dares to withhold information again, you'll wish you had never set foot in this village. Understood?"

The villagers, cowed and fearful, nodded in unison.

Then, the stranger said something that made him gulp.

"And here he was ! What is left of Fisher Tiger crew!"

Fuck, he was definitely from the grad line.

But instead of charging them, the stranger in the yellow suit stood tall, his eyes piercing as he began a monologue that cut through the charged atmosphere.

"Do you not see, Arlong?" he spoke with a mix of sorrow and conviction. "You and your crew have become the very oppression that Fisher Tiger fought against. You've enslaved these citizens, just as he was enslaved in the past. Your actions betray everything he stood for."

Arlong, initially defiant, felt a knot of discomfort tighten within him. The stranger continued, each word driving home the weight of the accusations. "Fisher Tiger fought for freedom, for equality. Yet here you are, perpetuating the same cycle of oppression that once bound him. Your ideals have crumbled into dust, replaced by the shackles you now impose upon others."

The stranger's voice carried a haunting resonance, echoing the ghosts of injustice past. "Fisher Tiger's legacy was one of liberation, not subjugation. You, Arlong, have tarnished that legacy. Is this the world you envision? A world of chains and subjugation?"

The octopus man, his expression a mix of disbelief and confusion, stammered, "Nyuuuu... That's impossible!"

Kizaru, unfazed by the protest, simply replied, "Ok Octopus-er." With a casual flick of his fingers, lasers shot forth in a dazzling display. In an instant, the fishmen, save for the octopus, were extinguished. The abrupt and efficient use of power left a void of silence, the weight of Kizaru's actions settling in, as the octopus man stood alone in the aftermath, a witness to the calm devastation wrought by the Admiral of Light.

As the weight of Arlong's oppression lifted, an overwhelming sense of joy surged through the villagers. But they still stayed silent, too astonished.

Captain Nezumi, still the stranger's hands, shat himself.

"You. You are called Nojiko, aren't you ?", asked the stranger, pointing to Nami's sister.

"Ye..Yes…", she stammered.

"What do you think this corrupt's marine punishment should be ?"

Determined not to stammer, the rightfully vindicative young lady did not stutter :

"Death. He is responsible for the death of many of us".

Kizaru smirked. "I remembered some stuff from high school about photons and electromagnetic radiations,"

As he spoke, Kizaru's hand, wrapped around the throat of Captain Nezumi, began to emanate an ominous glow.

"Did you know that light can transform into heat?" Kizaru's words hung in the stifling atmosphere.

Nezumi's face contorted in agony as Kizaru's hand tightened its grip. A red glow enveloped the captain's neck, the skin beneath Kizaru's touch reddening and blistering with an otherworldly intensity. Suddenly, Nezumi erupted into flames. The fire engulfed him, his screams melding with the crackling inferno. The other marines, paralyzed by the horror before them…shat themselves. Again. What did they eat before to be able to do it so many time ?

Regaining his signature chill, Admiral Kizaru reintroduced himself. A sly grin danced across his lips, and his eyes, sparkling like mischievous constellations, surveyed the crowd. With a theatrical flourish, he declared, "Greetings, good people! I am none other than Admiral Kizaru, the Duke of Daybreak, the Radiant Ruler, and your friendly neighborhood harbinger of light! I am the Sultan of Sunbeams, the Luminary Lark, and the Commander of Cosmic Coolness" The titles rolled off his tongue with a playful cadence, punctuated by a wink that assured the villagers this was more a whimsical spectacle than a dire revelation.

"And you are now free from the Arlong Pirates ! Tonight, you party ! "

The village, for the first time in decades, erupted in cheers.

Pointing casually at Genzo, Kizaru delivered his instructions to the marines with an air of indifferent authority. "This man is in charge until HQ sends another Captain. Follow his orders and do your duty." The marines, gripped by a mix of fear and compliance, nodded in acknowledgment.

Shifting his gaze to the apprehensive Hatchi, Kizaru issued another directive with cool detachment. "Villagers, tie him up," he said, casually gesturing towards the fishman. The villagers, influenced by the blend of fear and authority, promptly carried out the Admiral's command. Another villager was directed to fetch Arlong's head.

Maintaining his laid-back demeanor, Kizaru then turned his attention to Nami, injecting a deliberate sense of suspense into his calm words. "You requested the pirates' execution, and there's a last one" he stated, elongating his sentences in a manner that left the villagers and marines hanging in an uneasy silence.

Was he talking about...Nami?

Amidst the chaos, a chorus of voices erupted from the villagers, each attempting to explain simultaneously that Nami was innocent. The desperate pleas filled the air, with words like "forced", "help", and "innocent" blending into a cacophony of anxious explanations, all aimed at reaching Admiral Kizaru's unyielding ears. The urgency in their voices mirrored the collective fear of the villagers, desperate to secure mercy for the girl who had sought to aid them in their plight.

Kizaru's languid voice cut through the ominous silence. "I know, I know. She's a Marine now." His gaze settled on the trio standing nearby. Nami, still processing the shocking revelation, trembled under the weight of the moment. Genzo and Nojiko exchanged anxious glances.

A genuine smile curved Kizaru's lips as he continued, "I remember the strong sense of duty and the genuine niceness of an old subordinate of mine, Bell-mère." His eyes bore into Nami's, acknowledging the tumult of emotions on her face. "You should do her proud and make a good Marine."

Nami's heart raced, conflicting emotions clashing within her. The weight of Kizaru's words, the legacy of Bell-mère, and the sudden turn of events overwhelmed her. Before she could respond, stress took its toll, and she slumped, unconscious, into the waiting arms of Nojiko.

Genzo, breaking free from the shock, bowed deeply to Kizaru. "Thank you, Admiral. We appreciate your guidance. Take care of her"

Kizaru, seemingly unfazed by the gravity of the situation, reached out with startling speed. His hand gripped Nami's shoulder, he caught Arlong's head and with a twist of light, he vanished, leaving behind only a brief, shimmering afterimage.