Nojiko's voice was a low, steady murmur in the quiet of her home, a stark contrast to the storm of memories raging within her. The Straw Hat pirates sat in stunned silence, listening as she painted a picture of their past, a time before their world was shattered.
Eight years ago. The village of Cocoyasi was poor, but it was peaceful. And it was their home.
Arlong and his officers stood in the center of the village square, a terrifying, non-human force of nature. The villagers trembled before them, a collection of farmers and fishermen who had never known such monstrous power.
The decree was absolute, delivered with the casual cruelty of a god swatting a fly.
"For the privilege of living," Arlong had declared, "every adult will pay me a tribute of 100,000 Beli. Every child, 50,000 Beli. Every single month. This is the price of your life."
A wave of despair washed over the village. It was an impossible sum. But with the threat of total annihilation hanging over them—they did what they had to do. They scraped together every last Beli they owned, their life savings, their hopes for the future, and piled it at the Fish-Man's feet.
Arlong's men counted the money. It was just enough. A collective, silent sigh of relief passed through the crowd. They had bought another month of life. As the pirates prepared to leave, a moment of false hope settled over the village.
But then, one of the Fish-Men pointed towards the trees on the hill overlooking the village.
"Hey, Arlong-san. There's smoke coming from a chimney up there."
Every heart in Cocoyasi Village stopped. Genzo's face turned deathly pale. He knew that isolated house. He knew the fiery ex-Marine who lived there. And he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that she could never afford to pay such a high price for three people.
He begged the two young girls cowering behind him to run and hide.
At the small house in the orange grove, Bell-mère heard the commotion. She looked out the window and saw the monstrous figures of the Fish-Men crashing through her fence. She didn't panic. She was a Marine. She grabbed her old rifles, her expression hardening into a mask of pure, maternal fury.
She burst out of her front door, guns blazing. For a few frantic moments, she fought like a lioness, her training and courage holding the monsters at bay. But she was no match for their brute, inhuman force. She was quickly overwhelmed, beaten, and thrown to the ground before Arlong.
Genzo rushed to her side, desperately explaining the situation, the price of life. Bell-mère, bruised and bleeding, looked up at the saw-nosed tyrant.
"I have money," she said, her voice a defiant gasp. She crawled back into her house and returned with a bundle containing exactly 100,000 Beli—her entire life savings.
Arlong took the money. "100,000 Beli. The price for one adult. Very well. You may live."
The pirates believed she was paying for herself. They turned to leave. A second wave of false hope washed over the scene. She had survived.
But as they were about to depart, Bell-mère spoke, her voice clear and strong.
"Wait."
Arlong turned back, annoyed. "What is it now, human?"
"That money…" Bell-mère said, pushing herself up to her knees, a proud, unbreakable smile on her face. "…that 100,000 Beli… is for my two daughters."
The villagers gasped. "Bell-mère, what are you saying?! Be quiet!"
Arlong looked at her, confused, and then his eyes glinted with a cruel amusement. "But that's only enough for two children. What about the adult? Your name is not on the village registry. We can pretend we never saw you. You can live."
Bell-mère looked towards the forest where her daughters were hiding, and her voice softened, filled with a love so powerful it seemed to fill the entire grove.
"I can't," she said simply. "I can't say that I don't have a family. Even if it means I can't live… I'd rather die than deny being their mother."
She looked directly at her hidden children, her final words a legacy of pure, unconditional love.
"Nojiko… Nami… I love you."
That was all it took. Hearing those words, the two girls burst from their hiding place, screaming, running towards their mother.
"BELL-MÈRE!"
Arlong watched the scene with a cold, detached curiosity. He raised his pistol, aiming it not at the running children, but at the mother who had chosen them over her own life.
"A fine example," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion, "of what happens to those who cannot pay."
A loud bang erupted, echoing through the peaceful orange grove.
And two small children buried their crying faces in horror as they watched their mother be executed before their very eyes.