Grove 21.
The air was thick with tension and the sound of clashing metal and cracking stone. A battle had already broken out—loud, destructive, and drawing a growing crowd of onlookers.
Boom!
The ground trembled as a massive, pillar-like club smashed into the pavement, sending debris flying. Mad Monk Urouge, a towering man with a wide grin and feathered wings on his back, pulled the club back up, readying for another swing.
Facing him was a masked figure moving with swift, surgical precision—Massacre Soldier, Killer, dual scythes in hand, slashing forward with a spin.
"What is wrong with these pirates? For whatever reason, they just started fighting," someone whispered, ducking behind cover.
"They're both Supernovas!" another onlooker shouted. "That winged guy is Urouge—his bounty's 108 million Berries!"
"What about that other guy?"
"He should be Killer from the Kid Pirates. 162 million bounty!"
The clashing pirates cared nothing for the chaos they were causing. Stalls were crushed, the wooden platform shattered, and the crowd scattered to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
Then—Clang!
A sharp, echoing sound rang out as both Killer's scythe and Urouge's club were blocked simultaneously by a single figure who stepped between them.
X Drake, clad in dark armor with sword and axe in his hands, blocking the two strikes, pushed them both back effortlessly. His expression was stern, voice low but commanding.
"Both of you—enough. Save it for the New World," he said.
Urouge smirked, withdrawing his weapon. "You're that disgraced Marine officer, huh? Drake. So, you're playing the peacekeeper now…"
He turned to Killer, chuckling. "Looks like your life is spared today, masked man."
Killer didn't respond, only lowering his weapons slightly. After a short stare-down, he turned and silently walked off in another direction, vanishing into the crowd.
Urouge also shrugged off the tension and left the area, his heavy steps fading as he went.
Drake remained for a moment before signaling to his men. "Let's go," he said simply, and his crew followed without question.
Just as Drake was turning down another path, he passed a man calmly sitting on a crate, watching the scene with amusement.
Trafalgar D. Law, known as the Surgeon of Death, leaned forward, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the crate.
"That was a nice little show just now, Drake," Law said smoothly. "But tell me—how many men have you killed?"
Behind him, a few members of the Heart Pirates smirked, eyes fixed on Drake's crew. The tension crackled, unspoken but sharp.
Drake gave Law a brief glance, his expression unreadable. He didn't answer and kept walking, brushing past the crate without a word.
Then, something shifted.
From the opposite direction, a young man walked by, hands in his pockets, expression relaxed—almost disinterested. His steps were casual, but every movement held power.
Drake and Law both felt it—an overwhelming presence that made the air grow heavier for a second.
They turned to look at the young man, and instantly their expressions changed.
"Monkey D. Zino…" Law said under his breath, eyes narrowing.
Drake frowned. "The One Billion Berry man…"
Zino glanced at them both, a light smile playing on his lips.
"X Drake," he said calmly, then turned to Law. "And Trafalgar Law…"
He stopped walking and looked directly at Law.
"Would you like to join my crew?"
Law blinked. "What?"
Zino repeated, voice casual as ever. "I said—do you want to join my crew?"
For a moment, the entire grove seemed to go still. Even Law was caught off guard by the unexpected offer.
"…No." Trafalgar Law replied slowly, his eyes sharp and cautious. Despite Zino's relaxed tone and casual demeanor, Law wasn't about to let his guard down—not around someone who had survived a fight against an Admiral.
Zino frowned a little at the reply. "Oh? That's unfortunate."
The moment the words left his mouth, an invisible pressure surged outward from him like a wave. Conqueror's Haki.
Law felt it immediately—his breath caught in his chest, beads of sweat forming on his brow. The air grew heavy around him, almost suffocating. His crew behind him stiffened, caught in the sheer presence of Zino's will. X Drake on the side stiffened as he felt the pressure too.
No one moved. No one spoke. Their instincts screamed danger.
And just as quickly as it came, it vanished.
Zino exhaled, casually blowing the pressure away like it meant nothing. The weight lifted from the air, and the two captains quietly exhaled in relief. But neither Law nor Drake dropped their guard.
"How about an alliance, then?" Zino asked calmly, as though the last ten seconds never happened. "Are you interested?"
Law narrowed his eyes, caught off-guard by the sudden shift in tone. He remained silent for a beat, analyzing the situation. This man was unpredictable—calm one moment, intimidating the next. But one thing was certain: he was dangerous.
Why was someone like Zino, a man with a billion-berry bounty and a record of challenging the World Government, interested in him?
Law considered his options. Refusing again might provoke something worse. And besides... an alliance with someone like Zino could be useful. Very useful.
"…Alright," Law finally agreed. "But tell me—why me? Why do you want to ally with someone like me?"
Zino turned, his expression cool and confident. "Because you're worthy of it."
Law raised an eyebrow at the cryptic answer, but Zino simply smiled. Without another word, he turned and resumed walking down the grove.
As he took just a few steps, a voice suddenly broke the silence.
"…Wait." It was X Drake.
Zino halted, turning his head slightly to look back. "What is it?"
Drake hesitated, then asked, "Can I make an alliance with you too?"
Zino didn't even blink. "No."
The rejection was immediate. Cold. Final.
"I don't want a double agent as my ally," Zino said bluntly, eyes narrowing for just a moment.
"Wha—?!" Drake's eyes widened, completely stunned.
He wasn't just surprised—he was shaken. For Zino to know that he was secretly a Marine operative in disguise… It was a secret only a handful of people should know.
How? Drake's thoughts raced. How did he find out?
Zino, however, didn't care to explain. He turned away and kept walking, leaving both captains behind without a second glance. His footsteps echoed as he vanished into the shaded paths of the grove, disappearing as smoothly as he had arrived.
Law let out a soft chuckle and turned toward Drake, a smug expression on his face. "Looks like you're someone hard to trust," he said, smirking.
Drake clenched his jaw but said nothing. He could only watch as Law stood up and began walking away with his crew.
"Let's go," Law said simply, leading his crew down another path.
Drake stood there for a few moments longer, silently watching them leave. He felt a strange mix of irritation and unease. That single encounter had completely overturned his expectations.
Monkey D. Zino… what a terrifying man!
Grim-faced, Drake turned on his heel and left the grove as well, the encounter playing over and over in his mind.
...
Grove 52.
This part of the Sabaody Archipelago was known as the hub for *legal trade and logistics*. Neatly organized and heavily regulated, it functioned almost like a gigantic supermarket district, where merchants from all over the world brought in goods, supplies, and essential provisions for international voyages.
The area was bustling with activity—workers unloading crates, merchants haggling over prices, and vendors calling out deals. The prices were far more reasonable compared to the black market groves, and the turnover of goods was impressively fast.
But amidst the order and civility, there was one thing to watch out for—Marine patrols. They passed through every few hours, scanning for troublemakers, stowaways, and pirates attempting to blend in.
A group of six figures moved through the crowd, trying to keep a low profile.
Sanji, Nami, Robin, Galdino, Stev, and Kaya—each of them wore simple disguises to avoid unwanted attention. Most of them had hoods, hats, or jackets to cover their more recognizable features.
"I wonder where Zino ran off to," Stev muttered, looking around casually. "Why did he insist on walking around alone?"
"Forget about him," Nami said without looking back. "You just make sure you don't mess anything up. That's your job."
Stev grunted slightly, but didn't argue. Nami's temper wasn't something to provoke, especially not on enemy turf.
"Anyway," she added, a small sparkle in her eyes, "It's shopping time."
They turned a corner, ready to dive into the nearest provision store, when they abruptly stopped.
A small group was walking toward them—equally quiet, but not in any kind of disguise. Leading them was a tall, imposing figure with metal limbs and cold, calculating eyes.
Daz Bones, also known as "The Killer", stood at the front. His bounty had recently been raised to 170 million berries, officially placing him among the Eleven Supernova Captains.
Behind him were several familiar faces: Zala (Miss Doublefinger), Mr. 4, Miss Merry Christmas, and—most notably—Bentham, better known as Mr. 2 Bon Clay.
"Well, well," Robin smiled gently, eyes meeting Daz Bones'. "What a surprise. Mr. 1. Or should I say, Captain Daz Bones?"
The steel-bodied man narrowed his eyes. "Miss All Sunday… or Nico Robin now, isn't it?" His tone was calm, but the tension in the air spiked. "So, you've sided with the Silent Orcas. Does that mean you're the one responsible for Crocodile's capture?"
"The Marines did that themselves," Robin answered smoothly. "I was merely present."
Meanwhile, Bon Clay's eyes sparkled as he laid eyes on Sanji.
"Well, if it isn't Black Leg Sanji!" he exclaimed, striking a flamboyant pose. "I've been training since we last fought. This time, you won't stand a chance! You'll be crying in defeat beneath my graceful Okama legs!"
Sanji didn't even lift his head. "Who cares about you, Okama freak."
"Ohoho! Calling me Okama again?!" Bon Clay clutched his chest dramatically. "You really do know how to flatter a person! Mwah!"
He blew a flying kiss toward Sanji, who instantly recoiled in horror, practically leaping sideways to dodge the imaginary heart-shaped projectile.
"Gross—! Knock it off!"
"Still the same reaction, I love it!" Bon Clay giggled with joy.
Galdino sighed loudly. "These guys is idiots."
Kaya, who was standing quietly next to Robin, observed the interaction with a mix of amusement and confusion.
Before things could escalate any further, the sharp sound of synchronized boots echoed across the stone-paved path. Two Marine officers turned the corner, clad in clean, pressed uniforms. Their eyes scanned the area, faces stern and alert.
"Marine patrol," Robin said quietly, her voice barely audible.
In the blink of an eye, both pirate groups calmly turned away, heading in opposite directions. No words were exchanged, but the message was clear: this wasn't the place for a fight.
"See you next time, sweetie!" Bon Clay cried dramatically, waving a handkerchief at Sanji like a tearful lover at a train station.
"Keep dreaming, you freak!" Sanji snapped, visibly shuddering.
Their group quickly disappeared into the crowd, slipping behind market stalls and blending with other civilians. None of the Marines seemed to notice them, their eyes fixed on a loud trader arguing about dock taxes nearby.
On the other side of the grove, the group led by Daz Bones—now officially recognized as the Numbers Pirates—moved into the shadows between buildings, exiting Grove 52 altogether.
"So, the Orcas really are here." Zala glanced behind her, eyebrows furrowed. Her tone wasn't exactly surprised—more like annoyed curiosity.
"That's normal," Daz Bones responded, his voice gruff and even. "They're pirates too. Same as us."
He kept his gaze forward, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. After a moment, he added, "I was thinking of recruiting the remaining Baroque Works agents who haven't been caught. Looks like some of them decided to follow the Orcas instead."
"Figures," Zala muttered. "The Orcas are rising stars now. The world government's afraid of them. That kind of fame attracts people."
"So, what now?" Bon Clay asked, twirling dramatically on one heel. "Do we sail away and continue our lovely pirate lives? Or—do we do something truly fabulous and save our dear Mr. 0?"
He threw his arms wide as if presenting a grand idea.
The group paused as Daz Bones stopped walking.
He stood silent, eyes narrowed, clearly weighing the risks. Then he said, "We'll collect more intel first. I do want to rescue Crocodile—but storming Impel Down isn't something you do with wishful thinking. If we mess up, we won't be rescuing anyone. We'll just become cellmates."
The others fell silent for a moment, considering the weight of that statement. They knew Daz Bones wasn't the kind of man who said things lightly.
"Then we'll need a plan," said Zala. "And I know exactly where to start."
"Oh?" Mr. 4 spoke for the first time, tilting his head.
"There's a place here on Sabaody," Zala explained. "It's known to deal in all kinds of underground knowledge. Pirate movements, bounty increases, even World Government secrets—if you have the coin, they have the intel."
"What place are you talking about?" Daz Bones asked, intrigued.
Zala gave a half-smile.
"Shakky's Rip-off Bar."
Bon Clay raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a place I'd get ripped off in style."
Daz Bones didn't say anything for a moment. Then he nodded. "Fine. Let's go there."
The rest of the crew agreed silently.
Without wasting another moment, the Numbers Pirates changed course, cutting across the archipelago's twisting bridges and bubble paths. Their new destination: Grove 13, home of the infamous Rip-off Bar.