The air in Cocoyasi Village tasted of salt and fear. Genzo stood in the dusty town square, the old bandage over his nose doing nothing to hide the grim set of his jaw. Before him, the hulking, blue-skinned form of Arlong loomed, a shark-toothed grin slicing across his face.
"A hobby," Arlong repeated, his voice a low, grating rumble like stones grinding in the deep. He kicked the open chest at Genzo's feet, sending swords and pistols clattering across the cobblestones. "Collecting weapons. A fascinating *hobby* for a humble village constable."
From the shadow of a nearby awning, Usopp's knees knocked together. "H-he's not human," he whispered, his voice trembling.
Nojiko, her blue hair stark against her pale, furious face, didn't look away from the spectacle. "He's a fishman. And if he's here… then Nami is at Arlong Park." Her fists clenched. She'd hoped, foolishly, that her sister was finally free.
Arlong took a step closer, his shadow swallowing Genzo. "You know the law. No weapons. Weapons bring thoughts. Thoughts bring violence. We can't have that, can we?" He leaned down, his breath foul. "I still remember Gosa Village. The smell of burning wood… the silence after the screaming. All because they collectively failed their tribute. One village's defiance, erased."
"A tribute?" Usopp squeaked.
"Protection money," Nojiko spat, the words bitter. "Every adult pays every month. For the *privilege* of living. If one person can't pay, the whole village burns. That's his 'protection'."
Arlong straightened, addressing the cowed villagers who watched from windows and doorways, their eyes hollow with eight years of dread. "Work hard! The next tribute approaches! Your lives depend on your productivity!" His gaze snapped back to Genzo, all false mirth gone. "But this… this is different. This is a seed of rebellion."
He raised his voice, a cruel trumpet of judgment. "This worm thought to arm himself! To dream of fighting back! This proves the inherent, foolish pride of humans!" He grabbed Genzo by the collar, lifting the older man off his feet with terrifying ease. "He will be executed. Here. Now. So you all remember your place beneath the sea!"
A wail went up from the crowd. An old man stepped forward, then a woman, their faces etched with desperate courage. Genzo, dangling in Arlong's grip, found his voice. "NO! Don't! Everyone, stay back! If you fight now… everything Nami has done… everything we've endured… it will all be for nothing! Let this be the end of it!"
The plea was a physical blow to the villagers. They froze, torn between heart and survival, as Arlong's massive hand, fingers like iron pilings, reared back for the killing strike.
***BOOM!***
The explosion was deafening. A cloud of smoke and splintered wood erupted between Arlong and the crowd, making the fishman stagger back and drop Genzo.
From the roof of the tailor's shop, a figure stood silhouetted against the sun. "BEHOLD!" Usopp's voice echoed, magnified by sheer, pants-wetting terror into something that sounded almost brave. "You face the mighty Captain Usopp and his elite force of 8,000 battle-hardened warriors! Surrender now, you overgrown guppy, or face our wrath!"
For a second, there was stunned silence. Then Arlong's eyes bulged, veins throbbing in his neck. "A SNIPER?" he roared, the sound primal, inhuman. "A HUMAN DARES?!"
Usopp's bravado evaporated as Arlong moved. He wasn't fast; he was a force of nature. One moment he was in the square, the next he was at the shop's support beam. With a single, contemptuous wrench, he tore the main beam free. The building groaned, sagged, and then collapsed in a roar of timber and tile.
Usopp yelped, leaping for his life just as the roof disintegrated beneath him.
"I'LL TEAR THIS ENTIRE VILLAGE APART! I'LL GRIND EVERY ONE OF YOU INTO–!"
"ARLONG, NO!" One of his fishmen subordinates, a sawshark named Chew, grabbed his arm. "The village! The tribute! If you destroy it, the money stops! The plan falls apart!"
Arlong heaved, his rage a tangible heat. He glared at the wreckage, then at the terrified, precious village—his livestock. The logic fought through the fury. With a final, ground-shaking snarl, he relented. "FINE! Find that sniper! Bring him to the Park! I will peel the skin from his bones myself!" He shot a final, venomous look at the villagers. "The execution is postponed. But this debt… will be paid."
As Arlong stormed away, his crew fanned out, hunting. Usopp, covered in dust and splinters, scrambled through an alley, his heart hammering against his ribs. He could hear the heavy, webbed footsteps of his pursuers getting closer, their guttural calls cutting off escape routes.
He dove behind a rain barrel, breath coming in ragged gasps. *Think, Usopp, think!* But the footsteps were everywhere. A shadow fell over him.
"Got you, you little–"
*Thwip!*
A heavy fishing net, weighted with lead, dropped from the rooftop above, ensnaring the fishman. Nojiko peered over the eaves, a slingshot in her hand. "This way! Hurry!"
Gulping, Usopp scrambled after her, over a fence and into the relative cover of a tangerine grove. They ran until the village sounds faded, reaching a hidden cove where a small rowboat was tied.
"Get in," Nojiko ordered, untying the line. "You have to get to Arlong Park. You have to warn Nami. If Arlong is returning angry, and he finds a stranger with her…"
Usopp nodded, tumbling into the boat. Nojiko gave it a mighty shove into the current. "The river bends behind the park's walls! You can get close! Now GO!"
As Usopp fumbled with the oars, the boat slipped into the dense mangrove tunnels, heading toward the heart of the nightmare. He had to find Nami. He had to find Zoro. The execution was only delayed, and Arlong's rage was now a ticking bomb.
**Back at Arlong Park, Nami finally found Zoro, still half-conscious and propped against a wall. "We have to go, NOW!" she insisted, hauling on his arm. "He's coming back, and he'll kill you!"**
**Zoro grimaced, pushing himself upright. "Lead the way, navigator."**
**They slipped through a side gate just as the main gates of the courtyard crashed open. Arlong stormed in, his fury painting the air blue. He didn't head for his throne. He strode directly toward Nami's study, where her maps—the work of eight years—were kept.**
**Nami, watching from the shadow of the mangrove trees outside the wall, froze. Her blood ran cold. "No… no, not there…"**
**Inside, Arlong wrenched open the door to her sacred space. His eyes fell not on the desk, but on the floor. There, gleaming and unmistakable, was a single, dropped **wad of bandages**, still stained with fresh blood—Zoro's.**
**Arlong went very, very still. He turned slowly, his voice dropping to a whisper that carried through the silent park like the chill before a tsunami.**
**"Nami," he called out, sweetly, poisonously. "Little sister… why is there the scent of a *human swordsman* in your room?"**