The air, thick with the coppery scent of blood and gunpowder, finally stilled. Using the grotesquely inflated body of a fallen bounty hunter as a trampoline, Zoro launched himself skyward. His blades sang a single, lethal note.
Shick.
Mr. 8 crumpled, a deep gash across his chest. The final resistance on Whiskey Peak fell silent.
A soft snore broke the quiet. Luffy, propped against a broken wall, blinked his eyes open for a fleeting second. "Meat…?" he mumbled, before his head lolled back, sleep reclaiming him instantly.
"Now!" hissed the woman known as Miss Wednesday, her blue hair matted with dust. She and the injured Mr. 8 scrambled over the rubble, their hearts hammering against their ribs. Freedom was just an alley away.
Then, they froze.
On a rooftop, silhouetted against the moon, sat a bizarre pair: a man in a suit with a weasel on his head, and a woman with a large bird. Mr. 13 and Miss Friday. The cold lenses of their glasses glinted, recording everything.
"Don't move."
The new voice came from behind. They turned, their blood running cold. Two more Baroque Works agents stood in the street, pistols leveled at their hearts.
"Identify yourselves," the lead agent demanded, his finger tight on the trigger.
Miss Wednesday swallowed hard. "M-Miss Wednesday," she stammered.
Her companion, clutching his wound, grunted. "Mr. 8."
High above, perched on a slanted roof with a stolen bottle of whiskey, Roronoa Zoro took a long swig. He watched the scene below with the detached interest of a predator. More bugs.
Suddenly, Mr. 8 staggered to his feet. But it wasn't the guns in front of him that made his face pale with true dread. It was the figures now standing behind him.
"Looking for someone?" a bored, nasal voice drawled.
Mr. 5, a man with an afro and dark glasses, picked his nose with deliberate slowness. Beside him, Miss Valentine twirled a frilly parasol, a sweet, deadly smile on her lips.
"Officer Agents," Mr. 8 breathed, the title a death sentence.
"The traitors have been identified," Mr. 5 announced, his voice carrying in the quiet night. "Miss Wednesday… or should we say, Nefeltari Vivi, Princess of the Kingdom of Alabasta." He flicked a booger onto the ground where it erupted with a tiny pop. "And her loyal dog, Igaram."
The man known as Mr. 9 gasped, his jaw slack. "P-Princess?!" He stumbled forward and dropped into a deep, clumsy bow right there in the debris. "Your Highness!"
"You idiot!" Vivi screamed, her regal composure shattering into pure, raw fear. "Get up!"
Zoro's eyes narrowed. A princess? That changed the calculus. With a fluid motion, he slid down the roof, grabbed the snoring Luffy by the collar, and melted into the deeper shadows of a ruined building, unseen.
"Our orders are clear," Mr. 5 said, raising a hand. "Eliminate the traitors."
"Wait!" Mr. 9 shouted, throwing himself in front of Vivi. "She's my partner! I won't let you—"
Fwip. Boom.
Mr. 5 flicked another projectile. It struck Mr. 9 in the shoulder and detonated, sending him crashing into a wall with a cry of pain.
From the darkness, Zoro's muttered observation drifted. "Explosive boogers. Disgusting."
Igaram, bleeding profusely, lunged toward the shadows where Zoro had vanished. "Please! Swordsman! You have to save the Princess! Get her out of here!" His voice was a desperate, broken thing.
Seizing the moment, Vivi whistled sharply. A large, sprinting duck—Carue—burst from a side street. She scrambled onto its back. "Yah!"
As Carue shot toward the town's outskirts, a new figure stepped calmly into the moonlit street, blocking Igaram's view.
Nami, perfectly sober, brushed a strand of orange hair from her face. "Tsk, tsk. Leaving a poor, injured man behind. How cruel."
Igaram stared. "You… you're supposed to be unconscious!"
"Unlike our rubber-brained captain and this moss-headed swordsman," Nami said, casting a glance at the shadows where Zoro lurked, "I don't drink with people who are obviously planning to kill me in my sleep. Their 'celebration' was about as subtle as a Marine battleship." She smirked. "I could drink this whole town under the table if I wanted to."
Zoro's irritated grunt echoed from the darkness. "Annoying witch."
Nami ignored him, turning a brilliant, businesslike smile on Igaram. "So! You need a princess rescued from very dangerous, explosive people. We provide premium extraction services." Her eyes turned into glittering berries. "Our fee is one billion Berries. Cash. Can you guarantee payment?"
Igaram's face went from pale to ashen. "O-One billion?! That's extortion!"
"It's insurance!" Nami corrected cheerfully. "Do we have a deal?"
Before he could sputter a reply, a new sound cut through the night—the frantic, fading quack of a duck in distress, followed by a woman's sharp cry that was abruptly cut off.
Then, a slow, mocking clap echoed from the roof where Mr. 5 stood.
"A touching negotiation," he said. Miss Valentine floated down beside him, her parasol spinning. "But pointless."
He pointed down the street, where the distant silhouette of Carue was now stationary. Standing before the duck, holding a struggling, gagged Vivi by the arm, was a massive, hulking figure they hadn't seen before. His laugh rumbled like falling rocks.
Mr. 5's lips curled into a smirk. "Meet Mr. 4. He's surprisingly fast for his size. Your investment just got a lot riskier."
He turned his dead-eyed gaze directly toward the shadow where Zoro hid, and the spot where Nami stood.
"And the bonus offer on the Straw Hat pirates," he said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper, "is very generous. The boss wants you all dead tonight."
From his perch, Mr. 5 raised both hands, each finger loaded with a deadly, glistening pellet. Miss Valentine opened her parasol, beginning to float weightlessly into the air. And the giant, Mr. 4, hefted a massive, smoking baseball bat, its head glowing with ominous heat.
Surrounded, outnumbered, with a client captured and a captain asleep, Zoro slowly set his bottle down. The shiiing of three blades being drawn was the only answer he gave.
Nami's confident smile finally wavered, her knuckles white around her staff. They weren't just bounty hunters anymore.
They were prey.
And the hunt was just beginning.
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