Chapter 33

19th of March 1522
Marine HQ

Garp paced the length of the room. He stopped before Sengoku, who sat behind a desk cluttered with reports and maps. Garp's voice, though calm, carried the gravity of his fury. "Moria's rampage has gone too far. He's burning villages, destroying Marine bases. We must strip him of his title as a Warlord and hunt him down like the dog he is."

Sengoku sighed deeply, the burden of leadership evident in the furrows of his brow. His gaze, sharp and discerning, met Garp's unwavering stare. "I understand your anger, Garp, and I share it. But there is news you must hear. We've lost Jinbe and Crocodile. Their Vivre Cards indicate they are dead." He paused, allowing the words to settle like stones in the silence. "We cannot afford to lose another Warlord right now. The balance is precarious. First, we need to replace Jinbe and Crocodile. Once that is done, I promise you, we will disgrace Moria and see to his end. But not before. The world needs stability more than vengeance at this moment."

Garp's fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with suppressed rage. "So we let a monster roam free because we're short on monsters to replace him? That's a dangerous game, Sengoku. One that might cost us more than we can afford."

"It's a game we must play carefully, Garp. For now," Sengoku replied, his voice heavy with the weight of their situation.

Garp, though clearly dissatisfied, understood the strategic necessity of Sengoku's decision. He grumbled, his frustration barely contained, but he knew they had to tread carefully.

Sengoku leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under the pressure. "We need to convene a meeting with the remaining Warlords. We must discuss our next steps and propose replacements for Jinbe and Crocodile. Send out the convocations immediately."

Garp nodded, a grim determination in his eyes. "Understood. I'll see to it right away."

As Garp turned to leave, Sengoku's voice halted him. "And Garp, be prepared. The world is watching, and we cannot afford to falter."

With a final nod, Garp exited the room, his mind already focused on the task ahead. The stakes were higher than ever, and every decision could tip the balance of power in the world.

20th of March 1522
Marine HQ

Isabella von Carstein's ruby eyes narrowed as she observed Selena's transformation. Her rival's typically fierce countenance had softened into something almost radiant, an astonishing glow that made Isabella's own blood boil with envy. Over the past few days, Selena's mood had elevated to heights that were, quite frankly, sickening.

Isabella's gaze locked onto Selena's smug expression, that infuriatingly self-satisfied smirk. It spoke volumes without a single word, and Isabella's patience, already frayed, snapped. "So, he fucked you like the bitch in heat you are, huh?" The words spat from her lips, raw and biting, intended to cut deep. She had indeed seen the sultry garment Selena had worn a few nights before, a flimsy, see-through babydoll that left nothing to the imagination as she glided toward their Lord's chambers.

Selena didn't rise to the bait. Instead, her smirk grew more insufferable, a silent confirmation that twisted the knife of Isabella's jealousy. "Yes, he did" Selena replied, her voice dripping with smugness, "He touched me in ways he will never touch you." She turned and walked away, her movements languid and brimming with confidence, as if daring Isabella to challenge her newfound status.

"Fuck," Isabella swore under her breath, her fists clenching. She could not allow herself to be outdone, to fall behind in this silent war for Moria's favor. She wanted to be his favorite, to bask in his attention and power. She couldn't stand being second best, especially not to someone like Selena.

22nd of March 1522
Banaro Island.

The night sky over Banaro Island was a vast expanse of black, dotted with stars that seemed to flicker in anticipation. Ace stood on the rocky shoreline, his eyes blazing with determination, mirroring the turbulent ocean behind him. The wind whipped through his hair, carrying the scent of salt. Opposite him, Blackbeard towered like a dark colossus, his massive frame casting a shadow that swallowed the moonlight. His grin, wide and malicious, revealed a row of jagged teeth.

Ace's voice sliced through the night, filled with fury and resolve.

"Teach, your betrayal won't go unpunished. You've crossed a line, and now you'll pay."

"Zehahahahahah!"

Blackbeard's laugh rumbled like distant thunder.

24th of March 1522
Thriller Bark

Trafalgar Law's boots echoed softly against the cobblestone path. The moon hung low, casting an ethereal glow upon the four segmented gardens that flanked Moria's formidable castle. He had just finished an amazing discussion with Dr. Hogback - it had been a surprise to learn that the mythical Doctor was a subordinate of Moria, and he was eager to learn many things with his teachings, now that there were members of the same crew.

To his left sprawled Nami's sinister floral domain. Blood-red roses, wild and untamed, twisted around themselves, their thorns gleaming like daggers. Strange orange trees loomed among them, their fruits pulsing with an eerie, heart-like beat. Law sensed disturbing informations from his Devil Fruit powers, and choose to keep his distance.
Further along, the forest metamorphosed. It was the campement of Selena's ex-crewmates, now under the command of the Warlord - like his own crewmates or Bege's man, who slept in a new building on the West of the Boat. Here, sturdy huts had sprouted amidst the greenery, built with the help of Lyra's imposing golems.

His musings were cut short as he approached the pavilion. Small and open, it exuded a deceptive serenity. Moria awaited within, lounging with a glass of deep red wine cradled in his hand. Law paused at the pavilion's threshold, his posture deferential, a silent acknowledgment of his new subservience. He had learned well the art of masking his true thoughts, of wearing the mantle of obedience while harboring his own ambitions. But here…His freedom here was an illusion, between the Contract, and the Shadow Assassin in his own shadow - that, and the fact that he had to willingly give a lock of his hair to the Witch.

"Lord Moria," Law greeted, his tone respectful. The title tasted bitter on his tongue, but he spoke it with the requisite deference.

Moria, reclined and exuding an air of regal indifference, acknowledged Law's presence with a slight nod. He sipped his wine, his silence a calculated ploy to draw Law out. The tension between them was a taut wire, humming with unspoken intentions.

"I wish to discuss our strategy," Law began, choosing his words with meticulous care. Moria's eyes bore into him, unwavering, as if attempting to strip away his every pretense.

For a moment, hesitation gripped him. He was keenly aware of the man's cunning, the latent power that could rival even Doflamingo's. Hell, he was even going to become the crowned Prince of Alabasta! Moria was a potential ally and a potential foe. Yet the fire of vengeance against Doflamingo burned too fiercely within him to be quenched by fear. He needed Moria's power, his ruthlessness, to dismantle the empire he had spent years plotting to destroy.

"Doflamingo," Law continued, the name a hiss of venom. "I have gathered invaluable information over the years. Weaknesses, cracks in his façade. But to exploit them, I need your commitment, Lord Moria. I need to be sure."

Moria leaned forward, the movement almost languid, like a great cat toying with its prey. "Speak, Trafalgar Law."

Law smiled, a slow, calculated expression. He knew exactly which pieces of information would make Moria most likely to despise Doflamingo and put personal stakes in his destruction. This was no mere exposition; this was a surgical strike, aimed at the very core of Moria's ambitions and fears.

"Doflamingo," Law began, his voice steady and deliberate, "is not just another Warlord. He operates under the alias 'Joker,' the infamous figure of the underground."

Moria nodded, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. "I've heard the name through Bege," he admitted, his tone dismissive. But Law knew the bombshell was yet to come.

"What you may not know," Law continued, his eyes locking onto Moria's, "is that his main traffics are in slaves and artificial Devil Fruits."

For the first time, genuine shock flickered across Moria's features. "Artificial Devil Fruits? How?"

Law withheld the answer, letting the silence stretch, amplifying the weight of his revelation. Law pressed on, his voice gaining momentum, knowing he had Moria's full attention.

"Doflamingo has been cultivating these fruits for years, using a scientist named Caesar Clown. They call them SMILEs," Law explained, his tone laced with a mix of disdain and satisfaction. "But that's not the most critical part. The main buyer for these artificial Devil Fruits is none other than one of the four Emperor, Kaido. Doflamingo has been helping him grow in strength, creating an army of enhanced fighters."

Moria's fingers tightened around the stem of his wine glass, the tension visible in the whiteness of his knuckles. "Kaido," he murmured.

Law's smirk turned wider, a dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Yes, Kaido. Doflamingo has been Kaido's ally, feeding his power, creating an unstoppable force. If we take down Doflamingo, we strike a blow against Kaido himself."

Moria leaned back, the shock slowly transforming into a cold, calculated rage.

"And you," Moria said, his voice low and dangerous, "how do you fit into this grand scheme, Trafalgar Law? Why are you so desperate for Doflamingo's head?"

Law's eyes hardened, memories of loss and vengeance flickering in their depths. "Doflamingo took everything from me. My big brother, my home, my future."

He paused, choosing his next words with care. Law decided not to reveal every detail of Doflamingo's grander schemes. There was no need to mention Doflamingo's plans involving the living national treasure in Mariejois or the celestial dragons. He needed Moria only to deliver a decisive blow to Doflamingo, not to get entangled in the larger web.

"What matters is that we have a chance to hit him where it hurts. I've managed to gather crucial information about where the artificial Devil Fruits, the SMILEs, are being produced. It's in an Usine located in Dressrosa. The place is heavily guarded and practically inaccessible at the moment."

Moria's eyes narrowed, his interest piqued. "So what exactly are you proposing, Law?"

Law leaned in, his tone conspiratorial. "While the Usine in Dressrosa is a fortress, I have an idea about the general geographic zone of another laboratory where Joker's scientist, Caesar Clown, is working on improving the SMILEs to sell to Kaido - and produces one of the components for them, the SAD. With your power, Lord Moria—your shadows and your ability for instantaneous replacement—we can locate this lab. Then, as a firs step, we can sabotage their operations, disrupt their production, and strike a significant blow to Doflamingo's alliance with Kaido."

24th of March 1522
Marine HQ

Sengoku, seated behind his cluttered desk, glanced up sharply. "How did you get here?" he demanded. The man, Lafitte, smiled faintly. "My name is Lafitte. My captain, Blackbeard, heard you were looking for new Warlords. He is interested."

Sengoku's frown deepened. How dared a Pirate come here? But Lafitte pressed on. "Blackbeard has just defeated Firefist Ace. He offers Ace to the Marines in exchange for the Warlord title." The room fell into a heavy silence. Flabbergasted, Sengoku struggled to mask his shock. This information changed everything.

He leaned back, the gravity of the situation clear in his eyes. "This... changes everything," he muttered, realizing the potential shift in their favor and the chaos it could unleash.

24th of March 1522
Alabasta

Nico Robin sat at a grand mahogany desk in the dimly lit office of the Casino, once owned by Crocodile. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and leather, mingling with the faint aroma of cigar smoke that lingered from its previous occupant. Across from her, Capone Bege and Isabella von Carstein were meticulously reviewing the logistics and documents pertaining to Baroque Works, ensuring a smooth transition of power. Bege flipped through the pages with practiced efficiency, his eyes narrowing in concentration. He was competent, loyal, and well-versed in the underworld's shady dealings. Robin acknowledged his competence but did not view him as a significant or immediate threat to her.

Isabella, on the other hand…Robin had deduced from subtle cues and her own extensive inquiries that Isabella might possess a mythical Zoan Devil Fruit, making her far more dangerous than she appeared. Robin answered her questions about the revenue streams from Whiskey Peak with measured precision, maintaining a facade of calm.

Isabella smiled innocently, her expression one of deceptive sweetness as she asked, "And how do you foresee the revenue changes impacting our operations in Alabasta?"

Robin's response was smooth and articulate. "If the influx from Whiskey Peak increases, it should stabilize our finances here, allowing us to allocate more resources to fortifying our position here."

Yet, despite the strategic discussions and the apparent smoothness of the transition, something kept Robin on edge. It wasn't Bege's efficient ruthlessness or Isabella's beguiling presence—it was the Shadow Maid that lingered in the background. Unlike the other shadow servants, this one, known as the Estate Manager, seemed unsettlingly perceptive.

The Shadow Maid, dressed in a dark, flowing gown, moved with an eerie silence, serving tea and listening intently to every conversation. Robin had noticed it did not sleep and seemed capable of understanding and spontaneously reporting events. She suspected that Moria could, at any moment, see through its eyes and hear through its ears. The notion that her every move and word could be monitored was a chilling realization.

As she sipped her tea, Robin's thoughts wandered to Moria. Since his takeover, she had scarcely seen him. He had mentioned being occupied with his impending marriage. She had underestimated him before, but now the full extent of his cunning and reach was becoming apparent. Bege cleared his throat, drawing her back to the present. "And about the storage facilities in Nanohana, any irregularities we should be aware of?"

Robin shook her head, her focus sharpening. "No, everything is accounted for. The transition should be seamless."

Isabella leaned back, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Excellent. We must ensure that every aspect of Baroque Works aligns perfectly with our Lord's vision."