As the tension thickened, the crowd of onlookers kept their distance, murmuring anxiously. None dared to get caught between the crackling electricity radiating from Enel and the drawn blade of Marine Captain Taylor. The standoff was palpable until a cool, calm voice cut through the air.
"Oh my... what's going on here?"
All eyes turned toward the newcomer, a tall, lean man with an effortlessly relaxed demeanor. His unbuttoned blue Hawaiian shirt, matching shorts, and sandals contrasted sharply with the heavy tension in the air. Vice Admiral Aokiji had arrived, but he seemed to be wearing his civilian clothes.
Taylor stiffened, his previously smug expression faltering as beads of sweat formed on his brow. "Ah! Vice Admiral Aokiji, sir! I was just about to reprimand these criminals! This one here is claiming to be part of-"
Before he could finish, Enel, still brimming with arrogance, cut him off with a booming laugh. "Yes! I am part of Draco's Crew! Yahahahah!"
Aokiji tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. His perpetually sleepy expression betrayed just a hint of curiosity. He looked at Taylor, then at Enel, then sighed.
"I'm on vacation," Aokiji muttered to himself. His mind wandered briefly as he pieced things together. 'Draco... Human God Draco? The one who turned Akainu into Swiss cheese?' His eyes widened for a split second in recognition, but his calm demeanor quickly returned. 'This is above my pay grade right now... I'm not dealing with this mess.'
"Well," Aokiji finally said, "carry on, I guess. I'm on vacation." With that, he turned and casually strolled away, adjusting his sleep mask as if the entire confrontation were beneath his notice.
Taylor watched him leave in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open slightly. His composure cracked as he realized the Vice Admiral wouldn't intervene. "What the...?" Taylor muttered before snapping back to the situation at hand.
But when Taylor turned back to confront Enel, Buggy, and Shanks, he found... nothing. They were gone.
Frustrated and furious, Taylor barked at the lower-ranking marines. "Where did they go?"
The soldiers shook their heads nervously. "We didn't see them leave, sir!"
Taylor clenched his fists, veins bulging in his temples as he smacked the nearest marine. "Useless! Spread out! Find them!" With a powerful leap, Taylor scaled a nearby building, scanning the streets below in vain.
Meanwhile, the trio sprinted through the winding canals and alleys of Water 7, Buggy and Shanks dragging a confused and protesting Enel by his arms. They finally ducked into a quiet, shadowy corner, gasping for air.
Buggy and Shanks collapsed against a wall, glaring daggers at Enel. The latter, battered from being unceremoniously dragged through the city, stood with his hands on his hips, looking utterly baffled.
"Why are we running from marines?!" Enel demanded indignantly.
Buggy and Shanks, exasperated, simultaneously smacked him upside the head. "Are you stupid?!" they shouted.
Enel winced, rubbing the two growing lumps on his head. "What? What did I do?"
"Draco told us not to cause any trouble!" Buggy snapped.
Shanks crossed his arms, shaking his head. "We're already on thin ice, and you just had to pick a fight, didn't you?"
Enel huffed, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout. "Ah..." he muttered, finally realizing his blunder.
The trio sat in silence for a moment, catching their breath. The faint echoes of marine boots on cobblestones grew distant. For now, they were safe—but trouble seemed to follow them like a shadow.
[Back to Aokiji]
As Aokiji strolled away, his sandals scuffing lazily against the cobblestone streets, a stray thought crossed his mind. 'Who were those two next to the winged kid?' Their faces stirred a faint memory, but it didn't seem important enough to dwell on. Shrugging, he adjusted his sleep mask and entered a quaint little shop adorned with colorful signs advertising sweet treats.
"I'll take two, please," he called out cheerfully, flashing a calm smile at the shopkeeper. The tantalizing aroma of freshly made waffle cones filled the air, momentarily drowning out the chaos outside.
[Dock 1]
Meanwhile, at Dock 1, inside a cozy workshop-turned-dining room, Roger, Rayleigh, Scopper, and Oden were gathered around a table filled with food. The air was lively, filled with boisterous laughter and the clinking of glasses. It was a reunion of old friends, and the camaraderie was palpable.
"That was the first time I've seen a Snake that size!" Oden roared, slamming his hand on the table as everyone erupted into laughter.
[Few minutes later]
But the mood shifted abruptly when Tom, the legendary shipwright, slammed his fork down. "Whaaat?! You're dying in less than a year?" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and grief.
Roger grinned, though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I've got less than a year. But Wahahaha!, don't start mourning me just yet, Tom. I'm going to leave a Legend before I'm gone!"
Tom looked ready to protest further when a knock at the door interrupted him.
"Come in!" he bellowed.
The door creaked open, revealing a young Iceburg, dressed simply in a blue T-shirt and black pants, his expression nervous but determined.
Roger's laughter returned in full force as he waved the boy in. "Wahahaha! If it ain't Iceburg, Tom's apprentice! Come here, kid!" He ruffled Iceburg's hair playfully as the boy awkwardly smiled and nodded, clearly unsure how to handle the larger-than-life pirate, towering over him.
Once the laughter died down, Tom turned to his apprentice with a fatherly tone. "What's wrong, Iceburg? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Iceburg fidgeted slightly before speaking. "Well... some of our workers from Dock 1 have gone missing again."
The room grew quiet. Tom's jovial demeanor vanished in an instant, replaced by a deep scowl. "That damn marine," he growled. "I know it's him. I saw Captain Taylor leading my workers away... but we don't have any evidence!"
Rayleigh's calm voice cut through the tension. "Marine Captain Taylor?"
Tom nodded grimly. "Taylor Quinten. The noble's son. He's connected to the Donquixote Family. He's been using his status to get away with... with this! People disappearing - workers, civilians, it's been happening for almost a year. We can't do a thing about it without proof. And even if we had proof, what could we do? He's untouchable."
The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Iceburg clenched his fists, his young face twisted in frustration.
Roger, usually the loudest voice in the room, said nothing at first. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, the knuckles turning white as his grip tightened.
Finally, in a voice that carried the authority of a captain and the anger of a man who hated injustice, Roger spoke. "If he's slaving people, then he's crossed the line."
He stood, his imposing figure casting a long shadow across the room. "This isn't just some petty problem. If he's taking people, Tom's people, we'll find him. And if he's guilty..." Roger's voice dropped to a growl. "We'll kill him."
The room, heavy with a newfound resolve, nodded in agreement. Oden cracked his knuckles, Rayleigh's expression hardened, and even Iceburg, though young and untested, felt a flicker of determination rise within him.
It wasn't just about justice anymore. It was about helping a friend.