In the vast gastric juices of the whale, two tiny floating islands drifted in the center. On one, a single coconut tree grew. On the other, a fast, slightly larger plot of land held a simple house with shelves of colorful clothes on the side, giving off a sense of leisurely tranquility.
A strong old man named Crocus lay on a deck chair, his eyes wide as he read the newspaper. "What's this? The number one swordsman has changed?" He was the lighthouse keeper at Twin Point, and the daily newspaper from Morgans was his only pastime. But today's front page truly confused him. He knew better than to believe some unknown girl could defeat the world's best swordsman.
As he continued to read with a curious mind, the sound of crashing waves interrupted him. He looked up to see a slightly tattered warship.
"Marines?" he muttered, but then his gaze fell on the people on the boat. His hands trembled, and he quickly looked down at the newspaper, then back up at the figures, as if confirming something.
On the boat, Rodin stared at the old man. "Let's go have a look."
Before he could jump, Mihoko moved, embraced him, and leaped to the small island.
Rodin looked at the woman holding him, a series of question marks on his face.
Crocodile followed suit. "You're quite considerate."
"Is it not necessary to do it for the captain?" Mihoko asked back.
"I can jump over by myself," Rodin replied, exasperated. His subordinates had a bad habit of treating him like a woman.
Shaking it off, he approached the old man. "This must be Mr. Crocus. You probably don't know us yet..."
Mihoko and Crocodile stood on either side of Rodin, arms crossed, looking imposing.
"You..." Crocus's eyes widened, bloodshot. "Of course I know!"
Crocodile snorted, pointing to himself. "Yes? Then who am I?"
"You?" Crocus said in a deep voice. "You are Seven Warlords of the Sea."
"Uh... you know?" Crocodile couldn't believe it. He expected to be seen as a mere cosplaying girl.
"Sand Crocodile! Do you think I'm a fool? Of course, I know you!" Crocus feigned anger. "More than that... if I remember correctly, the person next to you should also be a Shichibukai! The world's number one swordsman, Hawkeye Mihawk!"
His tone was full of deep affirmation. "I don't know what two famous people like you are doing at my old man's place."
Mihoko glanced blankly at Rodin. Is this old man blind? Or just confused? Can't he tell the gender?
Rodin cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. "Mr. Crocus, are you sure you read that correctly?"
"Young man, are you suggesting I'm old and blind? How could I be wrong about such famous people!?" Crocus slammed the newspaper, his face full of displeasure.
In reality, Crocus was panicking. As a doctor for the Roger Pirates, he had seen many cases. He believed the two women were suffering from a form of hypochondria where they had fantasized about being famous pirates. He had seen this before—an ordinary pirate who had mimicked a famous super pirate, eventually surpassing and killing the original to take their place.
Crocus knew that in such cases, he absolutely could not expose their true identities. Doing so would only anger them and lead to his death.
He was sure the "female Sand Crocodile" and "Hawkeye" in front of him were suffering from this. Not only were their outfits identical, but their genders were different! This was a textbook case. Especially with the newspaper saying a "female Hawkeye" was challenging the real one, he had to take it seriously. He couldn't deny their claims; he had to be extremely certain that they were the original owners.
For his own life, Crocus let out a long sigh, a trace of sweat on his palms.
Rodin smiled. "Old man, do you know who I am?"
"You?" Crocus raised an eyebrow, sizing him up. He had no idea who this guy was—he was just an ordinary, handsome guy!
But to avoid angering the "patients," he responded calmly, "You are the man standing behind Shichibukai..."
"Captain, I'm done!" a beautiful, girlish voice suddenly interrupted.
A woman with two blue ponytails whipped through the air, landing on the ground with a soft, "boom!" , Baki placed her hands on her hips, but when she saw the old man in the reclining chair, her beautiful eyes widened.
Pointing at him, her voice trembled, "You... you... you..."
Crocus was just as stunned, his slippers falling from his feet. He quickly took off his reading glasses and stared, as if confirming something. "Little Buggy?" he whispered, his eyes wide as he stared at the slim girl with a noticeable bust.
A beautiful girl?! No, that's not right. Buggy was a boy, wasn't he? Crocus thought, bewildered. But the blue hair and red nose were the same.
"Pfft... Mr. Crocus..." Baki giggled, correcting herself. "No, you're Old man Crocus now." She was inexplicably happy to see the masterly, unshaven man.
"That familiar tone..." Crocus's confusion deepened, as the voice was so feminine. He remembered when he joined the Roger Pirates over twenty years ago, Buggy and Shanks were the youngest trainee crew members. He knew them well. So why, in a blink of an eye, had Buggy become a girl?
Could it be a patient who fantasizes about being Buggy?
"You..."
"What are you thinking, Mr. Crocus?" Baki seemed to guess his thoughts. She stretched out her palm, and a part of her hand detached and flew in mid-air.
Crocus's eyes widened. That was it! It had to be Buggy. A person's appearance could be imitated, but a Devil Fruit ability could not be changed.
"Buggy, why are you on this boat?" Crocus's mood relaxed. "Also, how did you become like this?" He then had another theory: What if Buggy was a girl all along, hiding her identity on Roger's ship so others wouldn't look down on her? It makes sense! He nodded to himself, finally able to accept it.
"I've always been like this," Baki said, bringing her ponytails to the front of her shoulders. "I'm on this ship because I'm Captain Rodin's crew now!" She had many fond memories of the old ship doctor. She had been too busy with her challenges to see him, but now, upon first arriving in this world, she had found him. It was a pleasant surprise.
"Rodin..." Crocus re-folded the newspaper, comparing the image to the man in front of him. "Then this must be Captain Rodin." He still wondered about the two "patients" next to him.
"It's me," Rodin nodded. "I'm actually here to..."
"You're here for a Log Pose!" Crocus said, smiling. He had observed that this group, like most pirates who came from Reverse Mountain, lacked a way to navigate.
Rodin was surprised. "That's right."
"Since you're Little Buggy's captain, it's a small matter. I happen to have one here." Crocus stood and retrieved a Log Pose from his house, handing it to Rodin.
Rodin thanked him, relieved that it was so easy. He thought there would be more trouble.
Baki, curious, wanted to talk more with Crocus, but she held back, waiting for her captain.
"Go on, we'll stay here for a while," Rodin said, gesturing to Baki. He was studying the Log Pose. He knew he needed to go to the Water 7 to get a new ship, as this small warship was already showing damage and wouldn't be able to hold their growing crew.
Baki, with her captain's permission, went to talk with Crocus. But the more she talked about defeating Mihawk and Shanks and challenging Rayleigh, more confused Crocus became. Was she just a braggart, or had she truly become that powerful?
Time passed quickly. After a final farewell, everyone boarded the ship.
"Take good care of this girl!" Crocus called out.
"Don't worry," Rodin replied with a smile as the warship drilled out of the whale and disappeared.
"Baki has a great captain," Crocus said, resting his hands behind his head. "And that little guy... is a girl after all." He had finally come to terms with it. Her personality hadn't changed much—still loved money—but she was bolder and her bragging was even louder. "I'm afraid they'll be in the newspapers often now."
Far away in the East Blue, Buggy the Clown sneezed hard, unaware that the old ship doctor now saw him as a girl.
Meanwhile, on the sea in front of Reverse Mountain, a Marine fleet sped forward. Atop the mountain, a warship with a dog gnawing on a bone on its bow slid rapidly down. The two sides were forming a pincer attack, closing in on something.