A massive whirlpool spun wildly across the sea, swallowing the final scraps of the shattered island.
Kael Grylls, Mihawk, and Moria stood atop a huge floating log, bobbing with the waves. The scene was, for a moment, downright ridiculous.
Moria was the first to break the silence. Sweat dripped from his pale chin, yet his face was lit with uncontrollable excitement.
"Kishishishi… Kael," he split into a wide grin, eyes shining as he asked, "How was that just now? Strong enough? Did it have bite?"
Kael, fully back in salted-fish mode, lay sprawled on the log, staring at the sky with lifeless eyes. Hearing that, he only waved a hand lazily.
"Meh. It was… alright, I guess."
Moria's smile froze.
He deflated like a punctured balloon, his massive body seeming to shrink a whole size.
"Huh? How can that be…" he muttered, crushed. He squatted down and started drawing circles on the log with one finger, murmuring to himself. "That was my strongest move… I even erased the whole island…"
Off to the side, Mihawk glanced at the two idiots with a blank expression and sighed.
The hand gripping Yoru still carried the aftershocks of that terrifying clash.
Time flowed on.
Five years passed in the blink of an eye.
The sea remained loud. The wheels of the era rolled forward, never pausing for anyone.
For Kael's crew, these five years were years of accumulation and transformation.
To put it bluntly, the two of them were at the peak of Warlord-tier, while Kael… was pushing the peak of Emperor-class.
Moria's strength skyrocketed. His control over shadows grew smoother and sharper by the day. Though he spent most of his time stationed at Sabaody, his signature "Kishishishi" had already become a nightmare that woke countless underground brokers in the middle of the night.
Mihawk's name, meanwhile, thundered across the world.
He grew out his iconic short beard, his gaze turning calmer and sharper, until he felt like a peerless named blade sheathed in human form.
He often sailed alone on that tiny coffin boat through the Grand Line, challenging famous swordsmen everywhere as he carved his path toward the title of World's Strongest Swordsman.
From Whitebeard's "Flower Sword" Vista to unknown monsters of the New World, the list of those defeated by his black blade Yoru was too long to count.
The throne was one step away.
All he lacked was an opponent worthy of crowning him.
And at the center of it all, Kael's strength rose steadily as well. He had long since stepped into the realm the world vaguely called "Emperors of the Sea."
Only, he did not seem to care.
For five years, he freely switched between two states: salted fish and aimless drifter.
On the surface, his territory was still Sabaody and the surrounding waters.
Beneath the surface, an invisible net had already spread in silence.
Weapons, intelligence, luxury goods. The chamber of commerce under Kael's banner reached the Four Blues, even seeping into nations allied with the World Government.
Wealth and information flowed like streams, pouring without end into Sabaody, that beating heart.
Today, Kael lay on a lounger atop the villa's rooftop, a newspaper draped over his face as he snoozed happily in rare afternoon sunlight.
Robin approached with a glass of iced black tea, silent as a shadow. She placed several folders gently on the small table beside him.
"Kael, these are the latest reports."
"Mmm…" Kael grunted, peeled the newspaper off his face, and sat up, bleary-eyed.
He picked up the top paper. The headline was Red-Haired Pirates' newest movement.
"Oh?" Kael yawned and flipped it casually. "So Shanks dragged Yasopp onto his ship too, huh. And he even picked up a little girl and raised her as a daughter. Uta, was it?"
Ah, memories… Back then, I also pulled Shanks out of a treasure chest. Good times.
He set the paper down and took the next document.
A letter from the East Blue, the handwriting crooked and childish.
Kael opened it, and a smile crept onto his face before he even noticed.
It was from Ace.
Ten-year-old Ace wrote with shameless bragging about his "great adventures" with his newly made friend Sabo.
They fought beasts on Mt. Colubo. They hunted "treasure" at the Gray Terminal junkyard. When they got tired, they crashed at Dadan's place. Most importantly, they were saving up "dream funds."
Of course, Ace left out certain entertaining details.
Like how, whenever he and Sabo stumbled home injured, Rouge would grab them by the ears, one in each hand, and drag them into the house for bandaging.
Bloodline suppression, ladies and gentlemen.
"Uncle Kael, Sabo's an awesome guy! But I kind of feel like he might be… a noble? Whatever! Doesn't matter! We promised that when we turn eighteen, we'll go out to sea together!"
At the end of the letter, he'd drawn a big, toothy sun, and beside it two little stick figures holding hands.
Kael rubbed the paper between his fingers. A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes.
The bond between the three brats really was something.
But with his interference, what kind of future would it become?
The Pirate King's son becomes the Navy King.
A noble's son becomes a Revolutionary.
And the Revolutionary leader's son, plus the Marine Hero's grandson… becomes the Pirate King?
This is a mess. My CPU can't handle it.
He carefully put the letter away, then turned to the final report.
A sealed internal document, stamped with the black-and-gold dragon crest of his organization.
The contents were brief, yet reeked of blood.
"…Target: Rob Lucci. Age: thirteen. Mission executed in Kingdom XX. Five hundred kingdom soldiers were taken hostage by pirates. Lucci, citing 'justice that is weak is not worth saving,' slaughtered all five hundred soldiers and the pirate leader, ending the incident alone. CP internal evaluation: passed."
Kael's fingertip tapped lightly on the name "Rob Lucci."
The lazy smile faded from his face, replaced by a quiet calm.
"So CP's little monster is starting to show his fangs too…"
Even an Emperor's toilet is worth scrubbing once in a while.
His gaze drifted past the report and out toward the far blue sea, but his thoughts sank a full ten thousand meters down, toward that island below.
Just a few days ago, an urgent dispatch from Fish-Man Island landed on his desk.
Fisher Tiger, the Fish-Man adventurer, returned at last after years missing, dragging a body covered in wounds back to Fish-Man Island.
The legendary adventurer marched straight into Ryugu Palace and requested an audience with King Neptune.
No one knew what was said inside the Hall of the Throne.
They only knew that when Tiger walked out, his eyes burned with the flames of vengeance and liberation.
On the plaza of Fish-Man District, he declared to every fish-man and mermaid that he would return to the human world.
To that hell that imprisoned countless of his kin.
To the Holy Land Mary Geoise.
With his own hands, he would free every slave.
Queen Otohime had only recently gathered signatures to present their will of migration to the World Government, and now this happened.
Where would Fish-Man Island go from here?
Kael rose slowly and walked to the edge of the terrace. The sea wind lifted his long black hair.
He remembered the words he'd spoken years ago in that attic in Loguetown, when he faced those five beings seated high above the world's peak of power.
That arrogance.
That provocation.
In this moment, it overlapped with Fisher Tiger's resolute back.
Kael's lips curled, slowly, into a cold arc.
"Robin," he called softly. His voice was not loud, yet it reached the woman behind him clearly.
"I'm here." Robin set down the tea and stepped beside him.
Kael did not turn around.
His golden eyes reflected the endless sea, and at the far end of that sea stood the summit of the Red Line.
His tone remained flat, yet it carried the pressure of a storm about to break.
The lazy salted fish vanished, replaced by a dark emperor preparing to shake the world.
"Send word. Have Mihawk and Moria wrap up whatever they're doing and return immediately."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"And… contact Doflamingo. Quietly."
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