The air inside the lighthouse still smelled of salt and medicine, but now it crackled with a new energy. Nami stared at the small, glass-domed device in Luffy's hands, her navigator's instincts humming.
"A Log Pose?" she breathed, snatching it from him. The delicate needle inside quivered, pointing stubbornly toward the distant horizon. "How? When did you get this?"
Luffy just grinned, scratching the back of his head. "Those weird guys from before left it on the Merry! The prince and the princess!"
"Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday," Zoro corrected from the corner, his arms crossed. He hadn't taken his eye off Crocus. "Convenient."
"It is more than convenient," Crocus said, his voice a low rumble that commanded the room. He moved to the table, his finger tracing an invisible map on the wood. "It is your chain. Your leash. The Grand Line does not give up its secrets easily. That device will record the magnetic resonance of this island. Only when it is full, when the island's signature is locked within, will it point to the next. Island by island, chain by chain. There are seven such chains weaving through these seas, and at the end of each…"
"Raftel," Usopp whispered, the legendary name feeling too big for the small room. "So… One Piece is there?"
A heavy silence fell. Crocus looked at each of them, his gaze lingering on Luffy's fiercely expectant face. "It is the final island. Where Roger's journey ended. Where all journeys in these waters dream of ending. But what is there?" He gave a slow, deliberate shrug. "That is for the one who reaches it to learn."
Luffy's grin widened, a sunburst of absolute certainty. "Then that's where we're going!"
The moment shattered as Sanji emerged from the small kitchen, a beautifully plated dish steaming in his hands. "Nami-swan! A light restorative, to help you recover your strength after your ordeal!"
He never saw Luffy's rubbery arm snake past him. In a blur, the entire plate was emptied into Luffy's mouth.
"DELICIOUS!"
"YOU GLUTTONOUS, UNGRATEFUL CAPTAIN!" Sanji roared, a hurricane of rage. "THAT WAS FOR NAMI-SWAN'S DELICATE CONSTITUTION!"
His leg shot out in a furious kick. Luffy, laughing with a mouth full of food, took the blow squarely on the cheek.
CRACK.
The sound was horribly small. A tiny, crystalline shatter.
Luffy shot across the room like a cannonball, slammed into the table where Nami had just set the Log Pose, and crumpled to the floor in a heap. On the table, the Log Pose was a ruin of shattered glass and twisted brass. The needle was gone.
The world stopped.
Nami stared. Her face paled, then flushed a violent, trembling red. She walked over to the groaning Luffy and the horrified Sanji.
"You…" she began, her voice dangerously quiet. Then it erupted. "YOU IDIOTS!"
Two powerful kicks sent both captain and cook flying out the open porthole. Distant, twin splashes echoed from the bay below.
Nami clutched her head, sinking to her knees beside the destroyed device. "We're stranded. We're dead. We can't navigate. We'll drift until we starve or a sea king eats us…"
"Calm yourself, girl," Crocus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The Grand Line has a cruel sense of humor, but it is not without mercy. You helped Laboon. For that, I will give you an old spare. But remember—the path you choose now will decide everything."
He produced another Log Pose from a locked cabinet. This one was older, its brass casing worn smooth. The needle inside pointed unerringly in a different direction than the first.
---
Outside, hidden among the sharp rocks of the cape, two soaked figures shivered.
"They have it, Miss Wednesday," Mr. 9 whispered, peering through a spyglass. "Our Log Pose. Our ticket home. Without it…"
"We are failed agents," Miss Wednesday finished, her voice tight with fear. "And the boss does not tolerate failure."
"We take it. Tonight. By force if we must—"
A shadow fell over them.
They looked up. Silhouetted against the setting sun were two figures descending on a parachute: a sea otter in a tiny suit and tie, and a stern-looking vulture.
Mr. 13 and Miss Friday. The Unluckies. The organization's cleaners.
"M-Mr. 13!" Mr. 9 stammered, scrambling to his feet. "A minor delay! We have the situation well in hand! The pose is right there!"
The sea otter said nothing. It merely adjusted its tie. Miss Friday the vulture let go of a small, neatly wrapped package.
It was the size of a lunch box. It fell with a soft plink at their feet.
Their blood ran cold.
BOOM.
The explosion was compact but violent, launching the two agents off the cliff in a cloud of smoke and shame. They pinwheeled through the air and hit the ocean with synchronized, painful slaps.
---
Luffy and Sanji, dripping and sulking, were just dragging themselves onto the shore when two more bodies washed up beside them.
Coughing and sputtering, Mr. 9 looked at Luffy, then at the Going Merry anchored in the bay. Desperation etched his face.
"You!" he gasped. "Take us! Take us to Whiskey Peak! It's on the route your new Log Pose will show! We can pay you!"
The Straw Hats, now gathered on the beach, exchanged wary glances. Zoro's hand drifted to his sword's hilt. "Why the rush? And why the secrecy? Who are you people?"
"Our organization… requires discretion," Miss Wednesday said, wringing water from her long blue hair. Her eyes were pleading. "Please. It is life or death for us. We will repay the fare tenfold."
Nami's eyes lit up at the mention of payment, but her sense of caution—and the memory of the bomb Laboon had swallowed—won out. "Before we agree to anything," she said, holding up the old Log Pose Crocus had given them. "You should know. The one you left on our ship? These two idiots broke it."
Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday's faces went ashen. Their last hope, shattered.
"But," Nami added, a sly smile touching her lips, "Crocus gave us this one. It's already set. And it does point toward Whiskey Peak."
The relief that washed over the two agents was so profound it looked like weakness. They nearly collapsed.
As the crew turned to board the ship, Crocus appeared at the top of the lighthouse path. His voice carried down, grave and clear.
"A final word! The route that begins at Whiskey Peak… it is a path many take. A path of celebration and welcome. Too much welcome, some say." He locked eyes with Luffy. "The islands on that chain are known for their… hospitality. Be certain it is the welcome you seek."
Luffy just laughed, already swinging onto the Merry's deck. "A party island sounds great! We're going!"
As the anchor was raised and the sails unfurled, Mr. 9 and Miss Wednesday huddled together on the deck, far from the crew. Their relief was gone, replaced by a cold, professional focus. Miss Wednesday watched Nami consult the Log Pose at the helm.
"The route is set," she murmured, so low only her partner could hear.
Mr. 9 gave a slow, grim nod. He pulled a small, damp Den Den Mushi from his pocket, its shell painted with a strange number. "The bait is taken. The mouse is in the maze." He allowed himself a thin, sharp smile. "Send word ahead to Whiskey Peak. The Straw Hat Pirates are coming. And by order of Baroque Works…"
He paused, watching Luffy shout joyously into the wind, completely unaware.
"…see that they receive a welcome they will never forget."
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