Chapter 6: Tides of Defiance

Draven sat cross-legged on the creaky wooden floor of his room in the inn, deep in concentration. His hands were extended in front of him, palms up, as if cupping an invisible force. He could feel the faint sensation of power coating his fingers, crawling up his arms in a fleeting, invisible armor. His hands flickered with the briefest moment of black, a sign that he was getting closer to mastering Armament Haki. But still, it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

"Not yet..." he muttered under his breath, opening his eyes and glancing down at his hands. The power was still elusive, something that demanded too much concentration to be useful in a real fight. Not yet anyway. But he didn't need it—not against someone like Arlong. Using Haki against that fishman would be overkill. This training wasn't for now, but for when the real threats came—the ones he'd face beyond the East Blue.

He clenched his fists, satisfied with the small progress he'd made. His thoughts drifted to the future. It had been only a few days since his meeting with Nojiko, but his thoughts were already on conquering the seas and making a name for himself. But for now, his path began with Arlong.

A sharp knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Sir," the innkeeper's voice called through the wooden frame. "You've got visitors."

Draven's brow furrowed. Visitors? He hadn't expected anyone. Had word gotten out about his presence? Or worse, about his treasure? A flicker of irritation crossed his features, but he rose to his feet, brushing off the dirt from his simple black pants before making his way downstairs.

As he reached the entrance of the inn, his eyes caught sight of the visitors: Nojiko and her younger sister, Nami.

Nojiko stood with her usual grace, her light blue hair falling over her shoulders, a slight flush of color already in her cheeks as her eyes met his. Her mind drifted back to their impromptu "date" and the promise he had made her—a thought that left her feeling both embarrassed and… warm. She looked relieved to see him, though a flicker of wariness lingered in her gaze. Nami, on the other hand, was glaring at him, her narrowed eyes full of suspicion. The girl looked around 13, with short, choppy orange hair that framed her young face. Even at her age, there was a fire in her eyes; rebellious and defiant. He thought the glare that she wore on her face made her even more cute.

Draven smiled and strode up to the two, not immediately addressing the tension in the air. He turned his gaze to Nami, greeting her first.

"Well, aren't you a little spitfire," he teased lightly, watching her bristle under his words. "You must be Nami. Nice to meet you."

Nami gave him a small glare, her eyes not leaving his for a moment as she muttered a reluctant, "Hello."

Draven's grin widened before he shifted his attention to Nojiko, his voice softening a bit. "Nojiko. I've missed you." His tone was playful, flirtatious, the kind that made her cheeks flush a bit deeper.

Nojiko let out a small chuckle, though her flustered state was clear. She opened her mouth to respond when Nami loudly cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest and shooting daggers at the two of them.

"Let's get to the point," Nami said, her voice low as she leaned closer. "How exactly do you plan to take down Arlong?" She whispered the name, cautious of any prying ears around them.

Draven's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shrugged casually. "I'm just going to fight him. Kill him and his crew."

Nami blinked in disbelief, her jaw hanging open as she stared at him. "Are you... out of your mind?!" she hissed, her voice rising in anger. "You think it's that easy to kill them? Fishman all have 10 times the strength of a normal human! Not to mention Arlong being in a class of his own."

Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, her emotions clearly stirred by painful memories, not only of her mother, but of the two years of desperate struggle she's had on the sea. Draven could see the toll Arlong had taken on not only Nami, but their village as well.

"I'm serious, Nami," he said gently. "I'm going to get rid of Arlong for you. I can't have Nojiko consider me as captain if I'm not willing to take her problems onto my shoulders." His tone turned sincere.

Nojiko blinked at him, baffled, her mind racing to process what he was saying. Meanwhile, Nami's face scrunched up in annoyance and reluctant acceptance. She stammered out, "D-don't try to butter up my sister before you do as you promised!"

Draven smiled, satisfied. "Of course. I'm just speaking my mind." He laughed while bringing his hand to ruffle the hair on Nami's head. He might be the same age as her, but he was almost a foot taller than her and looked much older. Almost around Nojiko's age.

Nojiko seems a bit more trusting for some reason, and smiled beautifully at him.

"Do you wanna stay at our place until we figure out how we're gonna do this?" She asked curiously.

Draven didn't even have to think twice. Staying with a cute little Nami and her hot older sister? He had to fight not to agree too desperately.

He smiled lightly at her. "Thanks Nojiko. Let me get my things." Turning around and moving to get his few belongings.

Returning to them in a few minutes with his bags of treasure and the small chest containing the Devil Fruit, Nami's eyes lit up, transforming into berī signs at the sight of the treasure.

She immediately bombarded him with questions about the fortune. Draven couldn't help but laugh. There was no need to hide much from them anymore. After all, they were going to be his crew. His.

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At Arlong Park, the atmosphere was heavy with the stench of sea salt and corruption. The massive, shark-like figure of Arlong lounged in a chair that barely seemed to contain his bulk, his sharp teeth glinting in the afternoon sun as he laughed heartily. Beside him sat Captain Nezumi, the rat-faced marine with his signature squeaky voice and beady eyes, wringing his hands nervously as he finished relaying the latest report.

"Nami's been working hard," Nezumi said with a sniveling grin. "She's reported to have 5 million beri of the hundred million you asked for."

Arlong's laughter erupted again, shaking the wooden planks beneath them. "Five million beri? That's all she's managed to collect?" He slapped a webbed hand against his knee, causing the table to rattle. "At this rate, she'll be dead from exhaustion long before she reaches a hundred million. What a joke!"

Nezumi chuckled along with him, though it was half-hearted. He always felt uneasy around Arlong, especially when money was involved. Despite their "partnership," he knew that Arlong was not someone to be trusted or crossed. The fishman was ruthless, and his whims were as unpredictable.

"It'll be years before she's even close," Arlong continued, shaking his head. "And by then, I'll have squeezed every last drop of her life out of her. These humans are so desperate, so pathetic."

As the conversation began to wind down, both men were interrupted by the sound of a marine ship docking at Arlong Park's exclusive pier. Arlong's sharp eyes narrowed as he watched a procession of marines awkwardly disembark, carrying a massive, bloated figure on a throne of wood and silk. The figure in question was none other than Commodore Nelson Royale, a morbidly obese man whose body was so large that several marines struggled to keep him balanced on his portable throne.

Nelson was a sight to behold—his skin glistened with sweat, his tiny eyes hidden beneath folds of flesh as he picked at the remains of a roast leg of some poor animal, the juices dribbling down his multiple chins. His stomach protruded like a grotesque balloon, draped over his legs as he rested, indifferent to the suffering of those carrying him.

"Arlong!" Nelson's booming voice echoed across the courtyard as his men set him down, their faces red and drenched in sweat from the effort. "I trust you've been keeping things in line here."

Arlong leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing across his lips as he eyed the grotesque figure before him. "Nelson Royale. Still letting your men do all the heavy lifting, I see. Or is that because you can't lift yourself anymore?"

Nelson's eyes flashed with irritation, but he forced a chuckle. "And you're still hiding in your little fish tank, Arlong. How fitting."

Arlong's grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting. "You call it hiding. I call it ruling. This island is mine, and not even the Marines can change that."

Nelson sneered, waving a greasy hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes. You've got your little empire here, squeezing the poor humans dry. How charming. But I didn't come all the way out here to listen to you gloat."

"Oh?" Arlong crossed his arms, the sneer still firmly in place. "Then what, pray tell, did you come for? A favor, perhaps?"

Nelson's grin returned, as sickly and greasy as the rest of him. "Business, fishman. It's time we discuss business."

Arlong leaned back, crossing his muscular arms and sneering at the grotesque marine. "Business, eh? What could Commodore Nelson himself want from me?"

Nelson ignored the question, instead shooting a dismissive glance at Nezumi, who visibly paled. He wasn't interested in whatever petty dealings Nezumi had with the fishman. Nelson considered himself a man of grandeur, deserving of far more respect than the rat-like marine.

"I've come to inform you about a little problem," Nelson began, his voice dripping with condescension. "There's a boy—a small rat, really—who's been spotted hiding out in Cocoyashi Village. The Marines seem to think he could be a potential threat. And you know how the higher-ups get when they think there's something that might jeopardize their plans for justice."

Arlong raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "A boy?" he scoffed. "You came all the way here to warn me about a kid?"

Nelson sneered, tearing into another piece of meat with his greasy fingers. "I wouldn't call him just a boy. He caught the attention of a retired Rear Admiral. She's been retired for a LONG time, but you'd do well to eliminate him before he causes any trouble. I'm told he's dangerous."

Arlong's lips twisted into a wicked grin. "Dangerous, huh? Well, I'm not worried. But if it'll ease your mind, I'll send some of my men to ask around. If this little punk really is hiding in my territory, we'll take care of him."

"Good," Nelson said with a greasy smile, wiping his mouth on his already-stained robe. "Consider it a favor to keep things running smoothly here."

Arlong waved his hand dismissively and called over a few of his crewmates—Kuroobi, the karate fishman, and Chew, his eel-like subordinate. "Go to Cocoyashi. Ask around. If you find this kid, kill him. No need to drag it out."

Kuroobi and Chew nodded, exchanging a knowing glance before smirking with anticipation. They set off toward the village with long, confident strides, eager for the action that awaited them. The people of Cocoyashi were cowed and broken, little more than cowering animals at this point. To Kuroobi and Chew, they were nothing but easy prey, too terrified to even think of resisting.

Commodore Nelson shifted in his throne, his weight causing the wood beneath him to groan in protest. He leaned forward, his tiny eyes glinting with greed. "Now that that's settled, there's the matter of my payment," he said smoothly. "You've been running this little operation for a while now, Arlong. I think it's only fair that I get a cut of the profits. After all, it's my influence that keeps the Marines off your back."

Arlong's grin faded slightly, his sharp teeth grinding together. "Your influence?" His voice grew cold. "I don't pay for things that are already mine."

Nezumi, who had been sitting quietly to the side, felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. This was dangerous ground. He was already siphoning off his own cut from the villagers' tribute, and the last thing he wanted was for Arlong to refuse Nelson outright.

Nelson's eyes narrowed. "You misunderstand me, Arlong. You wouldn't want to make an enemy of the Marines, would you?"

Arlong's face darkened, his fingers twitching as if ready to crush something—or someone. He stood, towering over the commodore, his presence casting a long, intimidating shadow. "I don't make deals with pigs," Arlong growled, his voice dangerously low. "And I don't pay twice. If you want something from me, you better make sure you're strong enough to take it."

The tension in the air thickened, and for a moment, it seemed like a fight might break out between the fishman and the bloated commodore.

Nezumi scrambled to intervene, his voice trembling as he spoke. "W-Wait! There's no need for hostility. I'm sure we can come to an… agreement, right? Let's not escalate things unnecessarily."

Nelson let out a low growl, his tiny eyes narrowing. He wasn't about to let a brute like Arlong intimidate him, but deep down, he knew he had no chance against the Fishman. Arlong's strength was far beyond anything he could handle, and without the protection of the Marines' name, he was powerless. Clearing his throat, he forced a greasy smile. "Very well, Arlong. Perhaps we can revisit this matter another time. After all, we wouldn't want to disrupt the… delicate balance we've established here."

Arlong's sneer deepened, his sharp teeth glinting dangerously. "Good decision. Now, get off my island before I throw you into the sea."

Nelson held back a retort, swallowing the bitter taste of humiliation. He wasn't fool enough to think he could stand against Arlong, and without the weight of the Marines behind him, he was nothing. He nodded curtly, motioning for his men to lift his throne once more. As they struggled to carry him back to the ship, Nelson's mind raced with thoughts of revenge. Arlong might have the upper hand now, but Nelson would make sure to use every ounce of Marine influence to ensure he'd regret this.

"Enjoy your little reign while you can, Arlong. I'll make sure you regret this." He muttered darkly under his breath.