An hour later, a happy but satisfied Nami watched as the navigators filed out, most cowed and shivering, but a select few simply impressed. That… was good. It felt good. Nothing could ruin her mood.
"Uh, Nami?"
Scratch that. One thing could ruin her mood, and it had just shown up. "Hello, Hachi," she said as politely as she could. Which is to say, frigid enough to chill a Sea King, but not caustic.
"Hi," Hachi said weakly, waving the only hand not wringing its companion. "I… I know that I'm one of the last people that you want to see right now—"
"Hachi, I'm being cordial with you entirely because Cross, Camie, and Koala vouch for you, but that is thin ice to be standing on. Get to the point," she snapped.
The octo-fishman visibly winced, his face twisted in guilt. "…I know that you still haven't forgiven me, and I know why… and I know that I deserve every bit of it."
Nami, mouth open to deliver a blistering tirade at the first part, choked as Hachi fell to his knees and actually prostrated himself before her, his brow pressed to the ground.
"But you also know me," he forged on, his voice sorrowful and pleading. "And you know that I wouldn't be apologizing to you, with everything that I have, everything I'm worth, unless I meant it. Meant it from the bottom of my heart. I am sorry for… for everything that I can apologize for. For everything that the others can't or won't apologize for. And I know… that what we did, we can never take back… but still. But still!" He shook his head miserably. "I just… There has to be more that I can do. Anything that I can do, anything at all… "
The navigator's implacable façade twitched minutely as she processed the proclamation, and after a moment, she finally addressed him in an attempt to answer the question burning in the back of her mind. "Why?" she asked quietly, forcing her voice to remain low and calm. "Why does this matter so much to you?"
Hachi's squirming intensified briefly. Then, finally, he sagged. "…because I don't want to be the cause of any more hatred. Because I've always known that what… that what we did wasn't what Big Bro Tiger or Queen Otohime would have wanted, not in a million years. But after everything that had happened, after all we'd lost, I was just so angry, and what Arlong and the guys—my brothers—were saying sounded so right… But they were wrong, I was wrong."
The octo-fishman raised his head and clunked it against the floor with a miserable groan. "I can't live with this, Nami! I can't just let this rot in my soul! So… so I'll give anything I have to if it means clearing my conscience. Anything… to make the pain go away… please…"
And as Hachi lapsed into silence, Nami just stared at him. Stared at the sight of one of her biggest tormentors kneeling before her, miserable and begging for mercy. And for the barest moment… she considered saying no. She considered telling him to shove off, that he could rot and suffer for all she—
And then the image of a leering, spike-nosed monster shot through Nami's mind, and she had to actively swallow down a retch.
Instead, she cleared her throat uncomfortably and addressed a different topic. "…Kuroobi and Chew. Why?" She then glanced away from him with a slight scowl. "And get up, would you?"
Hachi hastily pushed himself up, though he remained on his knees. "I, uh, I-I only asked Jinbe to free them because they had the same dream that I did when we were kids, and I needed the extra help. I thought that if they were living their sentences out with me, catering to humans and fishmen both, they could move past their hatred and understand how far we all fell. I never thought for even a second about getting anyone else out."
Hachi then coughed heavily into his fist, wringing his other two pairs of hands. "Also, if it helps about those two, I'm pretty sure that ever since Cross blew up at them, they're at least starting to realize what utter bastards we all were too, so… progress?"
"Mrgh," Nami grumbled. She brought up a hand to massage her forehead, which had been throbbing for a while now. "Alright, look, Hachi. I get that you're making an effort, and I can… acknowledge that, if nothing else. I'd have to be blind and deaf to deny it…"
She then scowled heavily as her Eisen Tempo darkened to the heaviest, most lightning-choked black it could manage. "But you willingly followed the man who killed my mother and took a leading role in making my life, and my sister's life and dozens of others a living hell. Maybe I will one day find it in my heart to forgive you… But that day is not today, and I doubt it will be anytime soon. And I don't know that there's anything else I can ask of you that will change that. "
She closed her eyes, reflecting on what she knew and how things stood now.
"But…" Nami's halo lightened slightly and curled around her as she turned away from the fishman, hugging herself slightly. "I will say that I… I am sorry that I can't forgive you. Because who you are now… is someone I would like talking with if I could."
Hachi slowly nodded, his eyes closing in a vain attempt to stop the tears gathering there. "I understand," he mumbled. "I'll… I'll just be going, then." And with that, he got to his feet, started to walk away…
"…did any of you ever find him?"
And then froze as the question—so soft and hushed, he almost doubted he'd heard it—hit the back of his head like cannonfire. Hachi blinked several times, digging through his brain to put together what he was being asked, then his eyes closed with a sigh as he composed what he believed to be the correct answer. "…No. Arlong spread word of him, but… we never heard anything back."
Nami grunted slightly, in acknowledgement, if nothing else. "Good enough." She stood in silence for a moment before taking on a more businesslike tone. "Start preparing all of the food you've got; the pre-race party is tomorrow night. The prize money will be loaded onto your ship, so as soon as you've sold out, ship out for Sabaody."
"I will," Hachi nodded, resuming his exit.
"And Hachi?"
The octopus looked back, and Nami managed half of a sincere smile. "Be careful."
Hachi smiled back, and for a moment, he honestly felt like maybe… things would be alright.
-o-
ONE DAY TILL START
"WE WERE PREPARED FOR TWO BOTTOMLESS STOMACHS, NOT THREE!"
Hearing Arlong's ex-lieutenants wail, I felt pity for Hachi… and almost felt it for those two too. Otherwise, I was a little preoccupied by the spectacle at hand; the pre-race party had gone into full swing when the sun went down, but it hadn't taken long for the focus to shift to Luffy and Bonney's eating contest.
But as the aforementioned wail pointed out, there was the slight problem of there being one more big eater to compete with. And as our misfortune would have it, it was one of Kid's men.
Thank God it wasn't Kid or Killer themselves, but I still didn't fancy the idea of our crew directly clashing against the only crew besides ours to have more than one Supernova. But alas, here we were: straw hat, pink hair, and yellow jacket inhaling platter after platter, leaning towers of plates piling up around the center of the action, bets trading hands at a breakneck pace, and every skilled chef in a two-mile radius shanghaied into helping.
"You know, I actually think I missed the rush of preparing this much food," Lola mused as she handily spun the last dollop of whipped cream onto a deliciously jiggling pile of chocolate mousse.
"Speak for yourself!" Valentine groused, whipping a beater through a bowl like it owed her money. "How am I supposed to take any notes on your complete mastery of all things chocolate if I'm constantly putting down new plates for these thr—GWAH!?" she suddenly squawked as a blur shot past her head. She then squawked again in indignation. "HEY, MY EARRINGS!"
"Whoops! Sorry," Luffy said, not sounding sorry in the least as he offhandedly spat the saliva-soaked lemons onto the pile of dirty dishes nearby, leaving the yellow-clad woman positively steamed.
"Why did you even wear those when you knew you'd be serving someone who would try eating food that was made of wood? And looked like it?" Mikey distractedly pointed out, knife blurring to keep afloat in the constant stream of fruits and vegetables that needed chopping.
"Excuse me for only being used to crewmates with half their sanity left, instead of none like you guys!" the ex-agent snapped, brandishing a bright-red squeeze bottle. "So, unless you want me to serve you up in the next sweet-and-sour dish, cram it and get back to work!"
"What in Sebek's name do you think I'm doing!?" the chuck-wielder demanded, alternating between stirring and dicing ingredients with his flippers and tenderizing meat with his tail.
THWACK!
A feat that earned him a shoe upside his head from a passing Sanji.
"OW! Hey, what the hell—!?"
"Less flash, more substance, blubberbutt," the chef scoffed, casually balancing a half-dozen of the prepared dishes on his limbs. "Either work efficiently or become what we're working on."
The Dugong twitched violently, but shifted with only minor grumbling.
"HA!" Valentine cackled, shooting her fist skyward in victory.
"And as for you, Miss Valentine," Sanji continued, his tone rising fifteen degrees and acquiring a half-cup of sugar. "I'd appreciate it if you could try and remain focused as well."
"…eh?" the ex-agent, the dugong and… pretty much everyone else in hearing range uttered in confusion.
"I'm sorry, it's just that you're being a little bit distracting, is all," the Black-Legged cook politely apologized. "If you're not going to be able to keep up with our pace, I'll need you to excuse yourself from this kitchen. Or at least move yourself to a lower priority one? If you don't mind."
"…HA!" Mikey barked, breaking the stunned silence first, though he didn't slow down even an iota.
Despite similar arguments going on up and down the kitchen, the output wasn't slowing down, and the platters stacking up around the contestants were getting to the point you could build a house with them… and Merry and Apis were giving it the ol' college try in the form of three complex igloos.
And despite the arguments and the complaining, morale in the kitchen was surprisingly high. Heck, I even noticed Lola chuckling fondly to herself as she prepared a new batch of ingredients.
"What's so funny?" Soundbite inquired, apparently noticing the same thing.
"HEY, THAT'S MINE!"
"NUH-UH! LE' GO!"
"Pfft! BESIDES THE OBVIOUS, I MEAN," the snail snickered while Luffy and Shuraya paused briefly in their duel so that the yellow-wearing man could try and drag a massive leg of… something out of Luffy's jaws.
"Hah…" the corsair-governor sighed wistfully in reply, a slight flourish tingeing her actions now. "I'm feeling nostalgic from this, is all… happier memories of my family, see?"
I gave her a slightly dumbfounded look. "Er… you mean the family you yourself described as, and I quote, 'psychotic bastards'?"
"Mm…" Lola nodded noncommittally. "They were, they are, but at the same time, a lot of them weren't… nurture over nature, see? There were bad times, yeah… but. But they were still my brothers and sisters, and I miss several of them dearly. Heck, even some of the more monstrous ones I wouldn't mind seeing one last time…"
"And this all..." I gestured at the barely restrained chaos of the cooking stations. "Does it remind you of them?"
"Of the good times, without any of the bad," Lola agreed with a light smile. Then the smile vanished, and she shook her head. "Do me a favour, Cross. When you get into a fight with them—"
"Don't you mean 'if'?" I couldn't help but needle.
Lola shot me an unamused look. "When you get into a fight with them," she repeated. "Put me in contact with my mother. If things keep going the way they are right now, there's something I want to tell her. Personally."
"…sure, why not. God knows I've always been fond of that last parting shot."
"But, ah, also, more importantly…" She set her utensils down for a moment so that she could give me her full attention, a very conflicted expression on her face. "When you fight my siblings… don't break them too bad? A lot of them are monsters, and there are even a few I wouldn't care if I saw dead, but even among the monsters…"
"They're still your siblings, I get it, I get it," I nodded patiently. "You have my word—"
"—which should make this a good stopping point for you."
"GRK!" I gagged as I was suddenly hauled up by the back of my collar.
"Watching is all well and good, Cross, but when you start distracting the staff, then we have a problem," Sanji huffed tiredly as he tossed away, eliciting an amused chuckle and wave farewell from Lola. Meanwhile, the cook himself heaved an aggrieved sigh and took a deep drag from his cigarette. "Ergh, so hectic… now I see why the one-legged bastard was so crabby all the time. And if this is what it's like now, the All Blue is going to be a nightmare…"
"HA! Looks like you've given someone an existential crisis yet again, CROSS!" Soundbite cackled ecstatically.
"Yip—Ergh!" I winced and rubbed at my neck where Sanji had tossed me out, though luckily not on my ass. "Yippee for me, what do I get when I get ten?"
"HOT FUDGE AND A BOOT upside your ass. NOW LET'S GET SOME DISTANCE, BOTH FROM HIM AND THE SPLASH ZONE, YEAH?"
"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, crossing my arms behind my head and wandering off so that I could see what there was to see.
It should be noted that not everyone was partying quite so rambunctiously. But rivals or not, most of the Supernovas' crews had fallen into a... calmer relationship with each other, if only because of the forced proximity. Still, the only interaction that could be called "calm" was between Drake and Hawkins, who were steadfastly seated in the background, apparently determined to keep their status as the 'only sane ones' of our collective.
And while the others were louder and more active in their interactions, it was heartening to see that they were at least positive interactions. Besides Bonney and Luffy's intense but friendly competition, Killer was actually positioned among the several chefs facilitating the contest—his primary usage was as a living blender, admittedly, but it was a strong show of trust from Sanji. And a little ways away from the cooking area, Zoro, Urouge, and Boss were engaged in a comparatively tame (barrels at a time, how were they not dead? I don't even…) drinking contest a short distance away.
Meanwhile, on the non-culinary front, Bege was watching Goldenweek work on a new painting some distance away from us, and from the way he was rolling a coin through his fingers, I think he was seriously considering making a few purchases. At another table, Kid and Apoo were talking animatedly about… something they had written in a pair of notebooks? Well, so long as they were happy—
"Oi, you two!" Soundbite whistled intently, garnering the pair's attention. "I advocate the usage of 'arsehole' myself, IT INJECTS A SENSE OF POSH TO MATTERS!"
"They're comparing notes on expletives, aren't they?" I deadpanned as the two captains grinned intently and started speaking with renewed vigour.
"It's a real learning experience, lemme tell ya!"
Oi… anyway… Law and Nami were huddled over a table, intently poring over… coins? For some reason? Really intently, too, jewelry loups and everything.
Penguin and Sachi were hashing things out with Barto and his new co-first mate (Desire, I think he'd said?), and from the way they were all gesticulating and posturing, I'd say they were either arguing quite aggressively or in the middle of some kind of rap battle. Really, it could be either.
Moving on from the Supernovas, the crews were all getting along pretty well, too. At one table, I could spy Bepo speaking and gesticulating quite animatedly, with an eager audience of the Kiddy Trio. Heck, Chopper was even chowing down on cotton candy while he took liberal notes.
At another table, Hamburg and Gin were putting on an arm-wrestling show. Porche and a few crewmates had formed a cheering squad. Itomimizu MC'd… and Foxy himself took the bets, of course.
I was pleasantly surprised to see Vito in conversation with Conis, apparently over their weapons, based on the array of metal odds and ends they had laid out before them. Quite surprising, but I suppose he wasn't as greasy as his suit made him look… still pretty greasy, though.
And then there was Lassoo… giving Su a ride as she chased after a low-flying Coo?…not even gonna try and ask.
Everyone else was sitting around, drinking, relaxing, chatting… overall, it was all very nice, very pleasant and friendly, very composed—
"Enough of this."
Soundbite filtered the mutter into my ear the same moment that Drake stood up and left; that's all he did, but it wasn't a subtle exit. I watched him go, then looked back at Hawkins, who gave a slight nod in his direction with a roll of his eyes that clearly said, 'Deal with this, would you?'
Exhaling, I wandered after Drake, pondering what to do when I caught up with him. Really, if I were being honest, he was one of the biggest wildcards on the island: a former Rear Admiral, hanging out with pirates, who would then go out of his way to deliberately join Kaido's Beast Pirates? I might not have done the best in Trig back in college, but even I could tell that a few things didn't quite add up with the guy.
But still, standoffish as the guy was, he was one of us, meaning that it was in all of our best interests that I cool him down from whatever head of hot air he was trying to build up.
As such, I mentally ran over what I knew regarding Oda's SBS had shared of Drake's backstory: grew up idolizing his Marine father, said father turned into a cruel, abusive 'pirate' (though really, 'gang of seafaring bandits' would be more accurate, even by fake-pirate standards) for unknown reasons, though from what glimpses I got of him I'd say that 'too corrupt for even Akainu' was written in a report somewhere. Drake escaped when he was 19, only just slipping free of the Bird Cage, climbed the ranks to Rear Admiral, and then turned pirate… as if resigning himself to fate, the story had said.
All very tragic, but no real help to me. I mean, that left years of in-between details that I could only begin to guess at. And frankly, nothing from what I did know explained why he would have gotten fed up with what was ultimately a pretty tame—
…party. The day the Barrels Pirates died, they were throwing a party.
"Yeah, that'd do it…" I groused, accelerating my pace, because I did not want to leave him in whatever headspace he was currently stewing in.
Thankfully, the dinosaur-human hadn't gone far. I found him sitting alone on a crate a few blocks over from the party… contemplating a bottle of rum.
Okay, this ends now. "You know," I piped up in a particularly flat voice, earning a sidelong glare. "Drinking alone is seriously risky business. It's a lot more fun when you do it with friends."
I had to suppress a flinch as Drake's gaze sharpened—as in, slit-pupils sharpened—but it wasn't long before he turned his scowl back on the bottle. "'Friends'… tch," he scoffed quietly, offhandedly tossing said bottle over his shoulder. "Do you actually think any of those thugs consider you or each other to be 'friends'? Besides," He snapped impatiently when I opened my mouth. "The inscrutable exception that is your crew, I mean. Everyone else, once we walk away from this… whatever this all is, they'll be at each other's throats. It's inevitable."
I nodded my head to the side with a dismissive grunt. "Meh, personally, I have more faith in them. But, call me an optimist if you must, I can understand where you're coming from."
The Ancient Zoan scowled at me flat out as he crossed his arms… and started tapping a finger on the handle of his mace, so the message was received there. "So, what, did you simply follow me so you could bring me back and get me to link arms with the rest of the degenerates so that we all get along as one big happy family?"
"Psh, considering how I feel like I need to wash myself every time I hear Kid speak? Hardly," I dismissively replied. "Personally, I'm just aiming for 'tolerate' at the moment. Hence, I'm following you to at least find out the reason why you decided to bounce." I cocked an eyebrow at him inquiringly. "So…?"
The ex-Marine bared and ground his teeth. "You're not going to go away until I give you an answer, are you?"
"IS THAT A REAL QUESTION?"
He had nothing to say to that, instead snapping his head away with a sharp tsk. "If you're fishing for some deep emotional reason, there isn't one. I just don't see the 'fun' in watching a bunch of idiots get drunk off their asses in celebration of violence."
My cheek twitched slightly at that ill-hidden venom. No reason, right…
Still, externally? I settled for heaving a put-upon sigh as I slowly started to scratch the back of my head. "Ehhh… yeah, I get where you're coming from. The kind of parties you're talking about, not that great. A lot of other, less scrupulous people? They'd be doing just that, getting wasted for the sake of themselves, full stop. Hell, Shiki did the same thing, with slaves to boot."
I then put on a fond smile as I glanced back towards the party. "…but see, the difference here? Those sons of bitches only care about their own happiness, damn all else. Pure hedonism. But here—"
"REEEEE!" "YEEEEHAW!"
Drake and I slowly turned our heads to watch as Raphey galloped by on the back of a greased boar, hooting and hollering and—
"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE TROGLODYTE!"
—and yes, that was definitely Robin's hat she was waving around, if the archaeologist booking it after her was anything to go by.
"…alright, still pretty hedonistic," I slowly admitted, reluctantly tearing my gaze away from the corner they'd just turned. "But! It's a selfless hedonism. We don't just want ourselves to be happy; we want everyone to be happy."
Drake snorted noncommittally. "And you're confident applying that to most of the other scum assembled as well?"
"I'm confident we're all tolerating one another, and that even Kid's making a positive acquaintance." I shrugged indifferently. "I mean, sure, we're planning to double-cross everyone tomorrow—"
"Tch."
"But the same goes for everyone else. And yeah, it's over money, not blood, and that's a thin line. Look, put it this way: have you done anything to anyone here worth getting gutted over?" I took his gruff silence… this instance of gruff silence as a no. "Then at least try and trust that nobody here is going to do so at the drop of a hat, alright?"
Still a gruff silence, but the way he inclined his head seemed to be in thought… maybe a slight push…?
"I mean…" I waved my hands slightly as I gathered my thoughts. "The thing is? People being utter bastards like that, full-on betraying someone for no good reason? They exist, sure… but they're certainly not everyone either, you know? Not all pirates, at least?"
My hand slapped to my face in a mirror, to Drake's head snapping around to stare at me. "And I pushed the buck too far. Damn it." I clawed my hand down and met his intense gaze with a bored one of my own. "For the record, if you plan to rip my head off, remember you fall on the 'Luffy can kick your ass' side of the line. Fun fact, he thinks dino-steak is delicious."
Drake continued to stare at me intensely for what felt like a short eternity… and then, he just sagged. "I'm… just going to do away with the bullshit and ask you straight: How much do you know about me?"
I snapped my finger up as I started to concoct the perfect—bah, fuck it. "Enough to let you know that Doflamingo will be getting his sooner or later," I told him, blunt as a sledgehammer, before shrugging. "If you want in, the door's open. Feel free to talk to Law about it."
"Though, we'll still be involved, SO THERE'S STILL NO ESCAPING US," Soundbite sing-sang.
Drake's face twisted up in a pained grimace, and he pinched his brow in misery. "I need a fucking drink," he ground out miserably.
I… honestly couldn't help but chuckle sheepishly as I rubbed the side of my neck. "I know the feeling, yeah, only I don't drink so it's not so easy…"
We shared a patient moment of silence. In short order, it was broken by a chorus of shouts—victory, defeat, and incredulity alike—from back the way we came.
I glanced over my shoulder with a fond smirk. "Well, sounds like somebody's stomach finally gave out." I nodded my head invitingly. "Want to come along and get plastered while watching stupid people do stupid things?"
"…beats drinking alone," he grumbled, shoving off his makeshift seat and walking alongside me.
"Heheheh…" I chuckled, slowly raising my arm. "Drake, my friend, I do believe that this is the start of a—"
"Don't touch me."
"Not there yet?"
"Not even close."
"Fair 'nuff."
"He's smiling!"
"I am not."
"You're right, you're smirking, and that counts."
"…tch."
And lo, the smirk did not go away.
BR-o-B
DAWN OF THE STARTING DAY
72 Hours Remain
You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?
…oh, wrong series? My mistake~
DAWN OF THE STARTING DAY
"You… puss-ridden… flea-mangled…"
"Mange-peppered… rabies-carrying…"
"D-Duke Dogstorm! M-Master Catviper! The Transponder Snail just started ringing! The SBS will begin soon!"
Titan-Dog and Mega-Cat alike froze at the call from the Zou's lookout, Bariete. They stood, staring daggers at one another for a moment that felt like an eternity. Then, after a moment, they sagged.
"The truce stands," they sighed, and after waving for their retainers to go and wake up the rest of the nocturnal Minks, they set off for the snail.
A one-eyed jaguar mink watched them go and then looked back at the nearby dog mink that was sagging in relief.
"So," he drawled slowly, cocking his functioning eyebrow. "Any chance that you'll stop with the Cross voodoo dolls, given that he can stop their fighting on a dime?"
And just like that, the dog mink's relief evaporated. "When Zunisha grows wings and flies us to the moon," Wanda snarled in response.
"Oh come now, surely the situation hasn't escalated that far!" Pedro scoffed.
"You Musketeers are some real lucky sons of bitches," a passing reindeer mink grumbled, her arms crossed impudently. "One more ball and we could have scored a triple off your lazy—!" THWACK! "GYAH!?"
"SCORE OFF THIS, TICKS-FOR-BRAIN!" a white-furred rabbit mink snarled as she clung to the Guardian's back and gnawed at her head.
"GET OFF OF ME YOU COTTON-TAILED CLOD!"
Wanda's eye twitched viciously as she turned a baleful eye on the suddenly more reticent Pedro. "I. Am a royal aide," she bit out. "Which means that normally my only duty is to put up with the Duke and Master being at one another's throats. But now, thanks to that loud-mouthed prick, I have to deal with quarrelling from both corps twenty-four seven. When the Straw Hats land here, I will rip his vile tongue out with my mouth."
Pedro started to nod in understanding before pausing as a thought struck him. "Wait… isn't Carrot an Aide too?"
The glare Wanda shot at him was somehow flat and scathing at the same time, and the jaguar raised his hands in an admission of defeat.
A short while later, most of Zou's population was gathered around the communal snail. Cross seemed to be taking his time letting his audience call in, as was evidenced by the fact that he'd decided to put on a musical number, of all things, to avoid dead air.
"Some say that pirates steal and should be feared and hated~" the infamous loud-mouthed buccaneer sang, his voice rife with laughter.
"I say we're victims of bad press; it's all exaggerated.
We'd never stab you in the back, we'd never lie or cheat.
We're just about the nicest guys you'd ever want to meet!"
"…what the heck even?" Bariete questioned, his tail swishing in agitation.
"Hey, ho, ho!" a wild chorus of voices suddenly crowed out of the blue, all full of cheer and wild glee. "It's one for all for one.
And we'll share and share alike with you and love you like a son.
We're gentlemen of fortune, and that's what we're proud to be
And when you're a professional pirate!"
"Sounds like Cross is putting on a veritable ensemble performance!" Dogstorm chuckled fondly.
"You'll be honest, brave, and free!" a new, but simultaneously familiar voice crowed out.
Catviper blinked in surprise. "Wait a minute… I know that voice, isn't that—?"
"The announcer for the Foxy Pirates, Itomimizu!?" Pedro finished, just as incredulously.
"The soul of decency," the infamous wide-mouth continued.
"You'll be loyal and fair and on the square.
And most importantly—!"
"When you're a professional pirate," the chorus cheered once more, as wild as ever. "You're always in the best of company!"
The Duke and Master exchanged bemused looks as the song wound down to a close. "Well, Luffy's certainly proving himself a charismatic one, isn't he?" the hound chuckled.
The feline leered back with a snicker. "Depends on how many of those people at his back want his head, don't it?"
Before either of the biarchs could start anything, however, they were interrupted by their snail regaining its typical cheeky grin.
"Well, that was fun!" Cross said cheerfully. "Hell, never thought I'd ever get the chance to sing that song of all things! But! Seeing as I have had that chance, I'd say that means we've had enough time for our viewers to all sign on in! So, for those here, allow me to—!"
"Yo, Cross, have you started up and welcomed people to the SBS yet?" a most definitely unexpected voice cut in, cackling.
"No, but—DAMMIT, not again!"
"Cut off even by Apoo! Oh, he's never going to live that down!" Carrot snickered into her paw-gauntlets.
"You three-limbed, monkey-faced, piano-toothed c* #&%r!" a far rougher and less familiar voice roared indignantly, getting cut off at the end of his sentence by the honk of a horn. "I was supposed to do that! We discussed this!"
"This is the sound of me not giving a fuck!" Apoo cackled, following up the taunt with a guitar riff. "In C Minor, I might add."
"And you, snotstain! Why the hell did you censor me but not him!?"
"Only I get to choose who goes blue, DIPWAD!"
"฿%*#&!"
"Lots of guests this time," Catviper observed. "Including that hijacker Apoo, they seem to be in proximity."
"Did the Straw Hats make even more allies?" Carrot wondered.
"Their tones don't exactly scream 'friendly', though…" Dogstorm muttered thoughtfully.
"Ugh…" Cross made a long-suffering sound that was eminently familiar to all his listeners. "Well, people of the world, as you can already tell, emotions are running high for us. And 'us' doesn't just mean the Straw Hat Pirates this time. Let's set the tone for this whole thing by starting it off hard and fast: For those of you who've been keeping up with our voyages, my crew and I have reached the end of Paradise, which is to say, the first half of the Grand Line. And as such, to reach the other side of the Red Line and voyage forth into the New World, we and all other pirates who share our goal must first pass through the final locale of Paradise for pirates, the world-famous—" It was honestly a miracle that the snail didn't hurt something with the sheer amount of tension Cross packed into the word "—isles known as the Sabaody Archipelago.
"Unfortunately for us, this is easier said than done at the moment. For those of you who aren't following the news in the Grand Line—or at least the scuttlebutt, doubt Big Fop Morgan's been permitted this piece—the Marines have set up a blockade around Sabaody to bar any pirates from reaching it or the New World on the other side. As you might imagine… we're not happy."
"You're not alone there," Wanda muttered.
"And we're not alone there."
The mink was caught between blushing and snarling in irritation as her words were mirrored.
"As you might have gathered already, we've formed some extremely vague semblance of an alliance with some other big names. We have with us the best, the brightest, the most fearsome, most powerful… and Kid and Apoo are here too, I guess."
"SWEAR TO #^, GONNA KILL YOU!"
"Apapa, yeah, because that joke is so original, you've used it how many times now?"
"I've got a joke about that in mind involving your mother, but I'll refrain from using it because I have class. Unlike you."
"Girls, girls…" an unfamiliar female voice cut in, speaking in a nice and condescending tone. "You're both annoying bitches, now can we please move this the hell along? I want to get to Sabaody while you all are still young."
"… Right. Sorry about that, dear viewers. You know how it is with pirates. Especially antsy ones. As such, in the interest of ongoing entertainment, let the show go on! Now, in five, four, three—"
To the puzzlement of the gathered minks, Cross went silent… and then, to their surprise, the Visual Transponder Snail they'd snagged not two days prior went live, presenting an image on the chunk of sailcloth they'd rigged as a screen. There, on top of a very large sparrow with a blue-and-white hood and a madcap grinning snail seated on his shoulder, was Jeremiah Cross; next to him sat an unfamiliar man in a purple turtleneck, cream pants, and a striped hat. Or at least, he was unfamiliar until people noticed the widest mouth any of them had seen in a normal-sized human.
"Hello, everybody, this is Jeremiah Cross and Soundbite," the Voice of Anarchy declared, throwing out a jaunty, two-fingered salute that his snail backed up with a snicker, then swept his arm out to indicate the man next to him. "And, with me in this special double edition of the SBS is returning guest and announcer, Itomimizu of the Foxy Pirates!"
"Pleasure to be back, Cross!" Itomimizu declared, waving his arm eagerly at the camera. "I'm happy to be here again, and you can be sure that my captain and crew in general are absolutely honoured, honoured, to be a part of what is surely the largest Dead End Race on record!"
Dogstorm and Catviper exchanged wary glances at that declaration. They'd been in one or two of the races in the past, and one and all they'd tended to end in a particularly… sticky manner.
"What's a Dead End Race?" Carrot wondered.
"An uncommon competition among pirates, an anything-goes race with a massive prize at the end," Dogstorm explained briefly.
"It tends to end about as well as you think it would," Catviper sighed wearily, massaging a migraine out of his brow. "And considering how the Straw Hats are involved, I'd say that the only real question about the fallout for this would be just how many other crews are involved."
"A pleasure to have you here as well! Though the pleasure will be much greater if it ends like the last competition we fought you guys in," Cross snarked, drawing ineffective leers from his companions. "Anyway, we can go into more details for those unaware later, but first, how about we confirm that this is the largest Dead End Race on record?"
The camera view swung around from Cross and Itomimizu, and the Minks and the world alike gaped at the sight that was unveiled: a bird's-eye view of the sea, and the massive polyglot fleet spread out on top of it, blanketing the ocean with a cover of more floating wood and metal in one place than most people alive had ever seen. Rounding out the picture was a miniature yet massive storm cell brewing behind the fleet, the winds visibly churning the cloudy heavens above.
"So…" Pedro dragged out slowly, scratching nervously at his scar. "With that many ships at once…?"
"I do believe the ocean is about to be lit on fire, yes," Wanda answered, her anger suppressed in favour of anticipatory dread tinged with bloody excitement.
"Now, those of you who know what a Dead End Race is, I'm sure you're wondering how we're going to give the ships the starting boost they need," Cross stated with a proud nod. "And for those of you who don't, normally Dead End Races use a convenient mountain river à la Reverse Mountain; the steeper the better. But, considering this is open ocean and there are no convenient mountains nearby… well, we had to come up with a solution on our own."
"A completely insane solution that's liable to kill us all, and that personally I still think we're a bit close to…" the bird the humans were sitting on spoke up as it hesitantly stared down at the water below. "But, yeah, a plan if you want to call it that."
"So, standard fare for the Straw Hats then… still wonder what it is, though," Dogstorm mused.
"Yeah, you've really got to wond—whoa!" Carrot reeled back in shock when a stretch of ocean suddenly roiled and churned, a great and foamy cloud of bubbles smashing through the surface all at once. "What the heck was that?!"
"Ah, excellent, that'd be the solution in question getting under motion," Cross explained, his grin becoming distinctly wolfish as he watched the fleet below swiftly scramble into action. "Pop quiz to everyone back home: Who remembers the little climatological cataclysm we ran into earlier in our voyage… known as a Knock-Up Stream?"
Dogstorm and Catviper stiffened and paled in an uncharacteristic show of synchronization as the implications of what was happening struck them. "Uh-oh…" they chorused.
"What's wrong, my lo—hm?" Bariete cut himself off, confused, as he noticed something on the screen. "Uh… h-hey… is it just me, or does the ocean behind those ships look a… bit…"
His words and every other ongoing conversation trailed off into stunned silence as, out of nowhere, an entire stretch of ocean simply… collapsed, as it were, water spiralling down towards the seafloor at alarming speed. Accelerating speed, over the course of a minute the hole expanded from a meagre pit to a massive, yawning chasm that led straight into a pitch-black abyss, audibly roaring with the sheer intensity of the suction.
The fleet pitched back from the outermost edges of the maelstrom, only their anchors holding them back from getting sucked in. A scant few did get sucked down into the screaming abyss—or rather, sucked screaming into the abyss—but it seemed to be composed of either the poor bastards whose anchor chains had snapped, or the stupid bastards who hadn't put down an anchor at all.
"WOOHOOHOOOO!" Cross crowed, hanging onto Chuchun's plumage for dear life. "Aw, MAN! It's even bigger than last time! It's actually trying to suck us in from the sky! This is AWESOME!"
"Speak for yourself, you're not the one who has to fight against the natural impossibility here!" Chuchun squawked as he flapped his wings with manic vigour.
"Oh, but this is entirely 'natural,' my fine feathered friend, entirely natural! We just brought it about through artificial instigation!" Cross snapped a finger up to point at his tertiary co-host. "Care to elaborate for those at home, Itomimizu?"
"Certainly, Cross!" the wide-mouth saluted smartly before addressing the video-snail. "As you might recall from the Straw Hats' broadcast on the matter, the Knock-Up Stream is a massive geyser that can erupt in the middle of the ocean, sending a pillar of water high enough to reach into the sky! Very convenient for our cause at the moment! But, unfortunately, like all natural disasters, it is extremely unpredictable!
"You see, the Knock-Up Stream is usually initiated when water drains into a subterranean cavern on the ocean bed, and is superheated by geothermal heat! Rather than wait for this sequence of events to play out naturally, we brought it about ourselves. All it took was some of our more aquatically aligned allies—"
"Shout out to Captain Dugong AND THE GREAT KUNG FU FLEET!" Soundbite cheered.
"—to dive down and set some explosives over a cavern they found themselves, and voila!" Itomimizu swept his arm out over the oceanic abyss. "One Knock Up Stream on demand! First comes the whirlpool…"
And then just as swiftly as it appeared, the maelstrom swirled shut with barely a gurgle, the water splashing back into a calm sea. And yet despite this apparent calm, the pirate fleet didn't relax an inch. Rather, they appeared to be even tenser than before, every inch of rigging drawn sharp and taut, and the anchors raised out of the water like they were on fire.
"And then, once the cavern is filled, the ocean calms down to normal…" Cross picked up, his eagerness ramping up even further. "But not for long."
Catviper let out a choked gurgle as he watched the ocean start to bulge where the maelstrom had once swirled, surface tension straining under the immense amount of pressure rising from below. "And they did this on purpose…?"
"As you can see, the ocean is barely hanging on as the pressure mounts to astronomical levels!" Itomimizu declared in as grandiose a tone as he could achieve. "Any moment now, the pressure will be too much, and the Knock-Up Stream will erupt and reach the heavens in all its glory!"
"But why—" Wanda only got two words out before she clamped her hand over her muzzle.
"Now, some of you may be wondering why we'd be using a force of vertical thrust to accelerate ourselves, when what we need in this instance is lateral thrust instead, right?" Cross queried with an impish grin.
"Teeheehee! He's got your number down pat, Wanda! Teehee—GURK!" Carrot scrambled frantically at the paw her superior had offhandedly clamped around her throat.
"Did you really think now was the right time to push her?" Milky questioned in honest incredulity.
"Gmmph…"
"Well, simply put, it all comes down to a most simple and basic concept of life. What goes up… must come down."
"Unless it's a bounty," Ito interjected.
"Yes, yes, that. ANYWAY!" Cross clapped his hands eagerly. "As we've often repeated, the Knock-Up Stream is a titanic pillar of water, all the water we saw go down the maelstrom, a skyward current of the stuff! And when the initial force of that current ends, it'll all hang in place for a moment… before it all comes crashing back down. And all that water, crashing down in one place? Well, there'll be effects from it. Specifically… A ripple effect."
Wanda tilted her head in confusion. "A ripple effect? What is he—?" A tapping on her wrist drew her attention to Carrot, who was pointing her other paw frantically. Pointing it to the north… of Zunisha…
Wanda's eyes slowly widened as realization fell over her. "They couldn't possibly be that—!"
"Think very carefully about who you're talking about," Pedro deadpanned.
Wanda outright paled in anticipatory terror. "Oh, dear…"
-o-
"I'll let that sink in for a minute for those of you who can put the pieces together. For everyone else… well, we've got a bit of time before it happens, so let's go ahead and explain how a Dead End Race works."
"It's really quite simple: GATHER A BUNCH OF PIRATES, dangle a lot of money in front of their noses, AND THEN SEND THEM THROUGH AN OCEANIC OBSTACLE COURSE of deathtraps and SUDDEN BUT INEVITABLE BETRAYALS!"
"Ah, sounds like a pleasant Saturday morning…" Itomimizu sighed.
"Of course, this is a little different from your usual Dead End Race, and I don't just mean the starting boost. Veterans out there, how many of you have heard of a Dead End Race with a pot of ฿8 billion?"
PFFFT!
King Dalton raised an eyebrow at the sputtering witch on the other side of the table. "Huh. You're the last person I expected to be shocked by… pretty much anything on Cross's show, you know."
"Growf," the witch's ogre-rabbit of an assistant nodded in agreement, kindly handing her off a new bottle of booze.
"Go make a cowpie, rawhide-ass!" Kureha hacked, booze still clearing her airways. "I've heard of or seen some ridiculous amounts of money, most of them from my own mouth, but this much from pirates? Seriously, is that an actual king's ransom or something?" She turned her attention to the fourth person in the room. "Well? I'm talking to you, big guy! You are the expert on bounties around here!"
"Bite my blazing incandescent ass, you wi…i…WAH-CHOO!" Don Accino shook the room with his roaring sneeze, glowering at the half-old, half-young woman from his spot huddled in front of the fireplace. "I'll help you the second you help me! You're the so-called witch around here, cure this damn co… oh… WAH-CHOO!" A sneeze cut him off again, and he tried to wipe off the new mask of snot, sniffling to clear the airways.
"No chance, glow-pants," Kureha snickered as she gestured for her assistant to get the small giant another blanket. "I'm good, but not even I know how to cure a common cold. You're stuck with it until you can sneeze, sweat, and—worst-case scenario—puke it out. Sorry, not sorry because you almost barbecued my wayward apprentice."
"Grmph…" the newly minted Alabastian Guardian grumbled.
"Perhaps you shouldn't have come to a Winter Island in… less than appropriate clothing," Dalton mildly stated.
"I ate the Hot-Hot Fruit! I've spent the last three decades of my life living in an iceberg field! The cold has never bothered me… EE… WAH-CHOO!" Another sneeze cut off the burgeoning tirade, and a glower fixed itself on Accino's face.
"…um…" Dalton uncomfortably scratched at his chin. "Have you considered that your old home might have housed something of a 'dry' cold with just ice, whereas a snowy kingdom such as ours is a bit… wetter in nature?"
Accino stewed in place for a few seconds before snapping his head away, pointedly adjusting his sunglasses. "Shut up," he sniffed.
"So anyway, the money…?" Kureha prodded.
"Yeah, you heard me right!" Cross gloated as if in response. "Eight. Billion. Berries. That's nine zeroes. Think about that number. Let it sink in. We had to take some very special precautions to make sure that the pot stays safe."
"And sorry, whitehats, we're not telling!"
"Yeah, that'd just be stupid. Anyway, the other main difference?" Cross's grin took on a particularly vicious sheen. "The obstacle here isn't preset traps or other pirates. At least, mostly not other pirates. Instead, we have a whole blockade of privateers and Marines who have oh-so-kindly volunteered themselves for this duty!"
Accino's frustration slowly disappeared as a grin spread across his face. "Well, well. If this is going to be anything like a routine breakup of Alabasta's blockade, it should make quite a spectacle. Ah, speaking of which…?"
"Ah, right, right. You said you had a list…?"
Accino tossed an envelope to the witch-doctor. "It's been nothing serious so far, but Cobra is determined to take every precaution regarding his health. The Kingdom of Alabasta thanks you for your service. For payment and necessary resources, the Royal coffers of Alabasta are open to you."
"Mmm… meh," Kureha scoffed dismissively, waving her hand. "Open, sure, but I won't plunder them too badly. Call it… remembrance for an old quack who never charged too much, I suppose."
"So… free?"
"Now hold your horses there, you walking space heater!"
-o-
The Marines' staffing issue had only somewhat improved since Enies Lobby's destruction, leaving them nowhere near the resources to pull off the blockade on their own. It was widely accepted that that was the sole reason they had hired so many privateers to blockade Sabaody, but even outnumbered, they remained the ones in charge when the situation called for it.
Naturally, however, with the average Marine being overall less capable than the average pirate even in the Grand Line, it required a significant force to keep everything running smoothly and discourage any saps from mutiny or desertion. As such, three powerful Marines were in charge, each one individually capable of matching a ship full of privateers or more.
One handled the soldiers. One handled the ships. And one handled the strategies.
The former two were in a constant state of unease around the latter. Not because they were the only Devil Fruit users in the entire fleet, they had long since shown that they didn't need their powers to be strong. Nor because the man outranked them; he was amicable about everything despite his typical scorn towards ability users.
No, what unnerved them was that under their current assignment, they were required to cooperate constantly with someone who had managed to uncover the New World Masons four times already, and neither one was eager to report to the Divine's de facto leader that she'd need to wipe his mind a fifth time because one of them screwed up. He'd been a good sport about it, but Tsuru was starting to get annoyed.
Of course, that worry was presently taking a backseat to a much more immediate one: in the face of Cross's latest announcement, the man who could have passed for a Chinese emperor was completely and utterly unflummoxed, and was even sporting a slight smirk of intrigue.
"Ahhh, so that's your game then, mister Voice of Anarchy," Vice Admiral 'White Feather' Komei mused with an almost fond-sounding chuckle.
Smoker and Hina hid their flinches by clamping their teeth down on their tobacco bundles.
"Now, with all of that explained, back to the ripple effect. Just think for a moment, dear viewers," crooned Cross, nearly rapturous with anticipation as the aquatic bulge towered higher and higher, slowly starting to loom over the masts of even the biggest ships in the assembled fleet, which had by now put a decent amount of distance between themselves and the building cataclysm. "Several hundred metric tons of water, slamming down at once into the ocean. That wouldn't really cause a ripple… so much as it would bring about a tsunami."
It took all the self-control Smoker had to keep from ashing his cigar any more than he had to. "He cannot be serious."
Cross dispelled that notion when he flung his arms out with an utterly mad cackle. "A tsunami that we're going to ride straight into the blockade, baby!"
"Harnessing the momentum from a natural disaster for their own causes. Come now, Commodore." Komei hid his chuckle behind his fan. "Shouldn't you, of all people, have been expecting something like this from the Straw Hat Pirates?"
While Smoker twitched at being called out on his skepticism, a ringing alarm sounded out from the broadcast. "IT'S TIME!" Soundbite hollered ecstatically.
"YOU HEARD THE SNAIL, PEOPLE!" Itomimizu roared, pumping his fist into the air as his ride flapped its wings in terror. "BRACE YOURSELVES AND BRACE YOUR SAILS! THE FIRST EVER SKELTER BITE-SABAODY DEAD END RACE IS ABOUT TO BEGIN! ON YOUR MARKS!"
Komei's smirk stayed firmly in place as he snapped his fan aside, glancing towards his current subordinates as he stood from his seat and walked towards the cabin's door. "Captain Hina, if you would be so kind as to inform the… mercenaries to prepare themselves for combat?
"Of course, sir," she responded, then hesitated as she and Smoker followed him out onto the quarterdeck. "Are there any specific orders you'd like me to communicate?"
"GET SET!"
"Why, isn't it obvious, my dear?" Komei drawled as his eyes scanned the horizon.
KABLOOOOOSH!
Smoker and Hina both flinched in shock as a titanic wave of noise smashed over them, originating both from every snail in earshot and from beyond the horizon, and both could do nothing more than gape at the blue tower t rising on high, connecting heaven and ocean in a defiance of all logic.
And then, as that tower suddenly halted and started to fall, one word cut through the shock like a cannonball.
"GO!"
"Kindly inform our helping hands," Komei chuckled over the raucous round of roars that sounded out over the SBS, sounding genuinely eager for whatever was to come. "That the game is afoot."