Chapter 9 - The Big Fat Whale
Nami's eyes fluttered open, and she gasped as a sudden splash of cold water jolted her back to consciousness. She found herself staring into the stern countenance of a gruff, towering figure. This imposing Marine, with an ever-present cloud of smoke around him, radiated an air of authority and toughness.
He leaned in, his dark eyes scrutinizing her. "Well, look who's finally awake," he grumbled in a deep, gravelly voice. His face was rugged and marked with the lines of countless battles, portraying a weathered toughness earned through years of service.
"I'm Captain Smoker," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You better get used to seeing my face, 'cause, apparently, you are stuck with us now. Order from the Yellow Monkey-God himself. And I'm your direct superior now".
As Nami struggled to gather her thoughts, Captain Smoker barked an order to a woman nearby. "Tashigi, go grab some clothes for this new recruit." The woman, whose expression mirrored Smoker's no-nonsense demeanor, nodded sharply and hurried off to fulfill the command.
Once Nami was somewhat composed, Captain Smoker explained the unexpected turn of events. "You appeared on our doorstep with a note from the Admiral ," he said, a hint of annoyance evident in his voice. "Seems like you're the newest addition to our little team." He paused, exhaling a puff of smoke. "And the Admiral wants us to "make you into a Marine, pretty please". We have four days until he is back. And you don't seem in a great shape, so…It is going to be rough".
Kizaru, the nonchalant Admiral of the Marines, casually displayed Arlong's severed head as proof of eliminating the last remnants of Fisher Tiger's crew. The twisted logic aimed to bolster trust from superiors and exhibit loyalty to the Celestial Dragons. However, beneath Kizaru's composed exterior, a subtle unease lingered. Fortunately, Hachi would tell the truth to Jinbei about Arlong's oppression, so no bad blood between them could develop.
In the heart of the Franky Family's rowdy den in Water 7, the vibe was as wild as Franky's cola-infused enthusiasm. Frank's family, momentarily taking a hiatus from their scrapyard adventures, sprawled across furnishings that could only be labeled as "recycled avant-garde."
Mozu and Kiwi found themselves in the midst of a hair-styling duel on a couch assembled from ship cushions, brandishing brushes and hair spray like weapons of follicular warfare. "Mozu, face it, square edges are the next big thing!" Kiwi proclaimed, expertly crafting a square-shaped hair masterpiece. Mozy facepalmed : she also had square-shaped hairs.
Zambai, flexing his muscles in a display of strength, undertook the daring task of balancing the couch on one finger. "Witness the awe-inspiring one-finger sofa stand!" he declared, sending the makeshift throne teetering perilously. Nobody cared. Poor him.
And then, there was Franky. The original Chad. Clad only in his signature briefs and sporting an outrageously oversized fedora, he attempted to exude an air of mafia sophistication - he fashioned himself as the boss a a family, after all. And mafia bosses needed Fedoras. Seated in his chair-cum-rocket-launcher, he nonchalantly sipped cola from a bottle ingeniously crafted from a ship's exhaust pipe. "Ah, nothing beats the sweet taste of victory and recycled metal on the rocks, capisce?"
In a dramatic turn, the front door swung wide open, ushering in a gust of wind and an unexpected guest of honor – a stray cat. Mozu and Kiwi, seizing the opportunity for creativity, pounced into action, attempting to fashion the feline a hat from stray metal scraps. And there, in the midst of the chaotic antics, stood Franky – the brief-clad "Godfather," attempting to assert his dubious authority with a wink and a nod.
Franky looked at the cat.
"Hello, Mister. I was waiting for you".
"Oh ? Really ", asked someone.
Franky froze mid-sip like a deer caught in headlights. Slowly turning around, he was met with Kizaru's unimpressed stare, as if the admiral had just walked into an amateur stage play. He was a really bad Mafia Boss. Maybe he should meet Bege to compare.
With a blinding speed that rivaled his light-based powers, Kizaru dropped a one-liner bombshell. "I heard there was a new don in town, but briefs and a fedora? Bold choice."
Franky, still in his Godfather getup, couldn't believe his eyes—or his audacity. He audibly gulped, the cola bottle suspended in limbo. "Uh, hey there, uh, you ? How are you ? And I was just, you know, asserting my authority in the, uh, family fashion."
Kizaru tilted his head, his tone deadpan. "Capisce?" he asked, mimicking Franky's earlier Godfather impression.
A nervous chuckle escaped Franky as he desperately tried to regain control of the situation. "Yeah, capisce. You just caught me in the middle of my... uh, briefing. Yeah, briefing on how to rock the fedora with pizzazz. Wait…Why I am nervous ? AND WHO ARE YOU ? IT IS SUUUUUPER UNCOOL TO INTERRUPT US"
With a sudden burst of enthusiasm, he struck his signature super pose, flexing his muscles and throwing in a dramatic "SUPER" shout for good measure.
But before the atmosphere could fully absorb the essence of Franky's chadness, Admiral Kizaru, unfazed and seated casually, snapped his fingers with an almost lazy elegance. In an instant, the entire Franky Family disappeared into thin air, leaving an empty room and a bewildered Godfather with a fedora slightly askew.
Franky, now alone in his glory, stared around the room in shock. "What just happened? Where'd they all go?"
Admiral Kizaru, with a bag of snacks in hand, calmly munched on a chip as he explained,
"Oh, they just couldn't handle the brilliance of your pose. I sent them to a place where they can contemplate its magnificence in peace. Well. The snack store, a few kilometers away. "
Franky scratched his head, utterly perplexed. "Wait, you can do that?"
Kizaru smiled. "I can do anything. Even know who is Cutty Flame, and who has the plans of the Antique Weapon Pluton".
Franky froze, while Kizaru kept eating.
"Aah. I forgot to introduce myself".
He took another bite. Franky started to sweat.
"I'm the light that pierces the darkness, the reason sunglasses exist, and the guy who once outran his own reflection. They say justice is blind, but not when I'm around. I mean, who needs stealth when you've got laser beams, am I right? I am…Admiral Kizaru !"
Nami let out a strained exhale as she completed her fiftieth push-up. "Pathetic," Captain Smoker remarked, his tone indifferent. Sanji, eager to retort and defend the honor of a woman, held back any comment under the weight of Smoker's stern glare.
"Hn", mocked him Law, speaking like a true Uchiha.
"You little…". Sanji was interrupted by a voice he knew too well.
"Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die".
At the sound of Kizaru's voice, Zoro, Nami, Smoker, Tashigi, Law, Koby and Sanji reacted in unison. With impeccable synchronicity, they leaped to attention, their movements swift and disciplined. Each one, following the lead of the others, executed a crisp and formal salute, embodying the strictest military precision. The air around them seemed to momentarily stiffen as they paid homage to the authority in the room, their expressions serious and unwavering.
"No, still not that introduction…Mmh…Oh, my God! They killed Kenny!…Nope, neither".
As their salutes lingered, the group turned their attention toward Kizaru, only to find him casually munching on the strangest sandwich they had ever laid eyes on.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter".
Kizaru glanced around at the seven now donned in Marine uniforms, an uninterested expression on his face. "I suppose it's time to test your skills," he drawled. Without a hint of concern, he plucked an odd pickle from his sandwich and produced a small orange book from his pocket, entitled "Icha Icha".
As he casually leafed through the tiny tome, he remarked, "Go ahead, attack me." The challenge hung in the air, with Kizaru fully aware of his superior strength. The group exchanged determined glances, launching into their assault as the admiral continued to read, indifferent to their attempts to challenge him.
Captain Smoker, Sanji, Tashigi, Zoro, Nami, Kobi, and Law leaped into action, but Kizaru effortlessly dodged and countered every move with the agility of a cucumber.
With a casual flick of his pickle, Kizaru disarmed Zoro, sending his swords clattering to the ground. Smoker's smoke tendrils tried to ensnare him, but the admiral danced around effortlessly, his pickle acting as a peculiar yet effective weapon...that could even hurt smoke.
Sanji's swift kicks were met with a simple twist and turn, as Kizaru playfully mocked, "Looks like you're in a bit of a pickle with those kicks, my friend. Maybe try something more dill-lightful next time."
Tashigi and Law coordinated their attacks, the later teleporting the both of them around, but Kizaru, with a series of uncanny moves, left them in a pickle of confusion. "Your teamwork is impressive, but it seems you're still cucumbersome," he taunted, twirling the pickle in his hand.
Nami attempted to outsmart him with cunning tactics, but Kizaru's nonchalant dodges and effortless counters left her in a bit of a pickle. "You'll need more than tricks to get out of this brine situation," he chuckled, casually munching on his victorious pickle between dodges.
As Kobi darted in with swift punches, Kizaru effortlessly caught his fists with a free hand, still holding the pickle. "You're fast, but speed alone won't save you from this pickle-emma," he sneered, delivering a precise counterpunch.
"Mmh...that pun was not my best".
As the seven of them lay battered on the floor, Kizaru leisurely peeled a banana, taking a nonchalant bite. "Mmmh... Not that disappointing, except for... all of you. That's not gonna do it," he remarked, his tone laced with mild disappointment.
With a beckoning gesture, Kizaru gestured for them to come closer. The defeated fighters, still nursing their bruises and wounds, reluctantly approached the admiral, uncertain of what awaited them. With an air of indifference, he explained, "Congratulations, you're the seven first members of the Blades of Light, a special Marine unit under my control." A moment of eagerness flickered across the faces of the defeated, anticipating the honor of joining such a unit.
Before them, Kizaru revealed a set of intricately crafted necklaces, each bearing the Marine ensign. The defeated fighters, still nursing their wounds, eyed the symbolic tokens with a mix of anticipation and confusion.
However, Kizaru's demeanor shifted as he glanced over their bruised forms. "Well, except for the fact that you're all too bad and lousy for me to want to be associated with you," he declared, a disappointed expression replacing any hint of approval. The fighters' anticipation turned to deflation, their moment of glory dissipating like smoke.
With a dismissive wave, Kizaru added, "I'll keep these necklaces for the moment. Maybe if you improve, I'll reconsider." As if punctuating his dissatisfaction, he delivered a resounding boo, the echoes of disappointment lingering in the air as the defeated members of the supposed Blades of Light processed their unexpected failure.
Determined to redeem himself and become worthy members of the Blades of Light, Captain Smoker mustered the courage to ask Kizaru what they needed to do. Kizaru, his nonchalant smile widening, revealed the challenging task ahead. With a grin that danced between mischief and amusement, Kizaru dropped the bombshell : "I'll give them to you once you manage to defeat a Warlord of my choosing and his crew".
The room, already silent, fell into a stunned hush as the notion of this seemingly ordinary task settled on the bruised and battered fighters. Kizaru's hands came together in a sharp clap, the echo hanging in the air as he laid out the next chapter of their unpredictable journey. Captain Smoker, taken aback, leaned in to catch every word as the admiral gleefully reshuffled their roles.
"Alright, Captain Smoker, prepare for a surprise – you're no longer the Captain of this base," Kizaru declared with a mischievous grin, relishing the bewilderment that danced in Smoker's eyes, soon replaced by an intrigued curiosity.
"We've got a slick speedboat from HQ waiting just for us, it'll be available in a few days" Kizaru continued, adopting a laid-back tone. "So, you're setting sail to the Grand Line in a few days. I'll pop sometimes. Sometimes not". The news sparked a ripple of excitement, and Smoker and Tashigi exchanged gleeful glances. To allow marines on the grand line was a great sign of faith, a clear sign that he had faith in their potential.
"Now, let's dive into the details," Kizaru chimed in, his voice switching gears. "Smoker, congratulations, you're the Vice-Boss – right under me, of course." The ... promotion ? ... was met with a blend of pride and surprise. Law, wearing a flattered yet amusingly perplexed expression, found himself the doctor and third in command. Nami was named navigator - duh - (a part of Kizaru wanted to make Zoro the navigator, but, well, duty...), and Sanji, with a casual nod, became the guy responsible for keeping everyone's belly happy as the cook. Koby and Zoro ? Well, they were there, he guessed.
Zoro found himself utterly befuddled by the turn of events. The only certainty in the sea of confusion was that Captain Smoker was leading them to speak with a peculiar flower old man residing inside a enormous whale.
Meh.
He had seen stranger things. Like Admiral talking animals. Or Admiral Kizaru. Or Smoker being a Smoker and changing into smoke. Had his parents called him Smoker ? Or did he change name after eating the fruit ? Or Admiral Kizaru.
Admiral Kizaru definitely was strange.
So, would it surprise him when a blue-haired belly danser and a guy with a crown attacked him inside the belly of a gigantic whale ? Nope.
"Ahaha ! I am miss Wednesday and this is my Partner, Mister 9 ! We came here to…"
The blue haired girl did not have the time to finish before Law tried to knock them out, only to be stopped by Sanji.
"Hey ! Show respect to the beautiful lady ! Let her speak ", bellowed the cook. .
"Sanji, we must talk about your sexism".
With a collective sense of bewilderment, the crew turned toward the source of the disturbance, only to find Kizaru leisurely sipping a cocktail near Crocus. The eccentric admiral, seemingly unfazed by the serious confrontation playing out before him, stood there in all his nonchalant glory. His signature lazy smile adorned his face as he took another sip from his cocktail, the sunlight glinting off his shades.
"Sanji, my man, let me drop some wisdom on you," Kizaru said, his tone oddly serious, though the glint in his eyes remained as mischievous as ever. He carefully placed his cocktail down and adjusted his shades, gearing up for what seemed like a rare moment of genuine conversation.
"You see, it's not about treating women right because they're women. It's about treating them right because they're people. And not fighting them? Well, some of the toughest folks on the seas are women," Kizaru shared, his words carrying an unexpected weight.
He leaned in conspiratorially, as if sharing a secret. "It's kind of dehumanizing to see them only as fragile objects or be nice just because they look good. Respect and kindness? Those should be handed out like candy at a festival—no discrimination based on gender. They're not damsels in distress; they're like, the powerhouses of the seas, capable of giving anyone a run for their beli. So, Sanji, how about broadening that perspective of yours a bit?" Kizaru concluded, his playful demeanor momentarily replaced by a genuine nugget of advice.
The crew, including a dumbfounded Sanji, stood in stunned silence.
But nobody was surprised when Kizaru knocked out -again, as they had been waking up-, with a flick, Mister 9…but not Miss Wednesday. He turns toward his crew - and the terrified Miss Wednesday.
"Well, well, say hello to the latest member of our crew. Bright something or other. What did I call it again? Ah, yes, the Blades of Light," Kizaru declared with a certain nonchalance, as if adding a new member mid-confrontation was just another day on the Grand Line.
A collective sweatdrop formed above the heads of the crew members.
The Admiral addressed Miss Wednesday, who was about to protest : "From now one, you are Miss Wednesday, capitche, V ? You are a member of a marine crew on his way to unravel a mysterious conspiracy. Maybe they'll find it's a Warlord who wants to take over a Kingdom, or something, I don't know, I'm not scenarist".
A strange gleam in her eyes, the still terrified Miss Wednesday nodded.
"Smoker, Tashigi, I need to have a word with Crocus. Could you do me a favor and train Miss Wednesday? Make her strong, well, strong... like Koby-Strong She's going to be part of the crew after all," Kizaru casually instructed, his words carrying the weight of a decision made on the whims of the Grand Line.
He added with a hint of seriousness, "Don't hesitate to be tough on her. It's not like she's a princess or something."
And like that, Zoro's boss left to talk with flower old man.
Just another day, in short.
"Have you seen Kaladore ? I haven't seen him in days…"
"Don't fear, Kaya ! The Great Usopp will protect you if there is any danger !"
