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Raijin Island – The Port
Arthur stood on the deck of a small, specialized vessel—a product of Vegapunk's genius and the Navy's scientific research division. His greatcoat billowed in the sea breeze as Shiryu, his First Division Commander, stood silently at his side.
"Captain Arthur, are you certain you don't need us to accompany you?" Avalo Pizarro asked, his cat-like eyes gleaming with concern.
"Exactly!" Catarina Devon interjected, planting her hands on her hips as she shot Shiryu a withering glare. "Shiryu has all the charm of a rock. He can't possibly take good care of you."
The entire command structure of the Thunder God Pirates had assembled at the docks—a rare sight outside of war councils. Their presence spoke volumes about the gravity of Arthur's departure.
"There's no need." Arthur's voice came out as a low rasp.
He suppressed a cough before settling onto a deck chair. "I'm merely confirming something. The rest of you will defend our territory. If Kaido's or Big Mom's forces dare make a move, cut them down... cough, cough!"
A violent coughing fit seized him mid-sentence, his body convulsing as if trying to expel his own lungs. Blood occasionally speckled his hand, though the stabilized wound prevented the hemorrhaging that had nearly killed him three years ago.
Those three years had given the other New World emperors ample opportunity to learn of Arthur's condition. While Whitebeard maintained his honor and refused to exploit such weakness, the same couldn't be said for those rabid dogs, Kaido and Big Mom.
Though they hadn't attacked personally, their subordinates had tested the Thunder God Pirates' borders relentlessly.
The constant skirmishes had forged Arthur's commanders into deadlier weapons.
Veterans like Naguri and Byrnndi World had pushed past their limits, achieving new heights of power. As for Shiryu—his growth had been extraordinary, reaching a level that commanded even Arthur's respect. He now stood equal to the Navy's Admirals in strength.
And make no mistake—the Admirals were far from weak. How else could they serve as the world's deterrent against piracy??
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Under his commanders' watchful gazes, Shiryu piloted the vessel away from Raijin Island with Arthur aboard.
Vegapunk's design proved its worth immediately. The compact craft shot from the harbor like an arrow, its speed surpassing even the mighty Thor at full throttle.
"Captain," Shiryu finally asked as they cleared the island's waters, "where are we heading?"
Shiryu's loyalty remained absolute—he was, without question, the man Arthur trusted most. If Arthur had ordered him to march into hell itself, he would have done so without hesitation.
To be conquered, acknowledged, to have his darkest desires validated and receive unconditional trust—these gifts had forged Shiryu's loyalty into something unbreakable. He would follow Arthur to the world's end without question.
He still remembered Arthur's words from their escape from Impel Down: "Come with me to the New World and kill. That's the only stage worthy of a man like you."
This journey marked perhaps the most significant moment in recent memory. Arthur had chosen only him, revealing their destination to no one else.
For three years, Arthur had done little beyond taking medicine, reading newspapers, and issuing orders. His power waned daily—a fact his commanders' keen Observation Haki couldn't miss.
The question lingered unspoken: did ambition stir in their hearts?
Arthur knew why Byrnndi World had been having Nightin monitor his condition.
Among his commanders, Vasco Shot played the perpetual drunk, but his mind remained razor-sharp, calculating every move.
Avalo Pizarro had shown fierce loyalty since his defeat.
Catarina Devon remained too psychologically shattered from Arthur's devastating punch years ago to even contemplate betrayal.
Of the three veterans, Don Chinjao's submission stemmed from genuine gratitude—his loyalty ran deep.
Naguri, broken and aged, sought only stability, which he'd found within the Thunder God Pirates.
That left Byrnndi World.
His hunger for destruction remained unquenched, his submission merely a facade. Over the past three years, the calculating gleam in his eyes had betrayed his true thoughts. Arthur had simply chosen not to acknowledge it—yet.
Arthur's prolonged weakness had rekindled World's ambitions.
Grand ambitions.
When the Thunder God Grand Fleet first formed, Arthur had declared that anyone with sufficient strength could challenge for positions—even his own captaincy.
World was already entertaining such delusions.
Arthur felt no concern about his crew's unrealistic aspirations. When he'd first recruited these monsters from Impel Down's depths, he'd anticipated this moment.
Their leader could no longer fight, grew weaker daily, and faced death within a decade.
How could such circumstances not breed treachery?
Arthur would let it fester, waiting until World believed himself strong enough to strike. Only then would Arthur reveal his hand.
After all, life demanded you taste every experience at least once—even betrayal.
Everything hinged on his plan's first step succeeding. A peculiar smile curved Arthur's lips.
The uncertain road ahead—that beautiful unknown—fascinated him most.
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"Captain, our heading?" Shiryu asked, guiding the ten-meter steel vessel through the churning waves.
Shiryu saw everything, a swordsman's eyes missed nothing. But he felt no need to act on what he observed. Until Arthur gave the word, he would remain still. When that day came, he would simply draw his blade and resolve the matter.
He couldn't defeat World before, but his recent growth had eliminated all fear. He bowed to no one now.
"The medical kingdom in Paradise," Arthur replied, fingers drumming against his armrest. "Drum Kingdom."
"Drum Kingdom?" Shiryu glanced back, confusion evident. "I thought we abandoned the search for doctors two years ago. That centuries-old doctor, Kureha, was last seen there. Should I prepare to... acquire her services?"
This was standard protocol for the Thunder God Pirates—for all four Emperors, really. When negotiations or partnerships arose, others came to them, not the reverse.
"No," Arthur said firmly. "We're not seeking medical treatment. I need answers to questions that have plagued me for nearly twenty years..."
His life had seen only one major turning point thus far:
Ascending to Skypiea and claiming the Rumble-Rumble Fruit. If his suspicions proved correct, he stood at the precipice of a second transformation.
Years of careful planning would finally bear fruit.
"Answers?" Shiryu's hand brushed the Seven Star Sword's hilt before he fell silent.
His curiosity had always been limited.
Whatever Arthur commanded, he would execute without question or hesitation.
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