Kuzan used his Devil Fruit ability to free the woman trapped inside the cage.
As he gave her a brief look-over, he couldn't help but note how striking her bearing was.
It was obvious—someone who carried herself with this kind of poise must have come from a good family. A woman like this wouldn't have been sold off by her relatives.
And the child of a slave? Impossible.
Realizing that her background might provide a breakthrough in the investigation, Kuzan's voice carried a hint of urgency.
"My name is Nico Olvia. I was a crew member on an expedition ship."
"Our vessel was attacked by pirates. My companions managed to escape, but…"
"I was captured and brought here."
Nico Olvia stepped out from the shattered "ice cage."
Her answer was calm and organized, and she showed not even a flicker of surprise at Kuzan's display of Devil Fruit powers.
It was clear she was no stranger to such abilities.
"Pirates… I knew it."
Kuzan's eyes brightened. As he expected, the Lolo Commerce Guild did have ties to pirates.
Just as he prepared to continue questioning her, Yoriichi and Kyros—having already dispatched the guards—walked over.
Yoriichi's gaze settled on Olvia, and he spoke before Kuzan could continue:
"You said your name is Nico Olvia?"
"Where is your homeland?"
At that moment, the familiarity he'd sensed finally clicked.
As he studied her face, buried memories surfaced.
This woman—Nico Olvia—her features overlapped almost perfectly with those of Nico Robin from his memories.
Aside from a slight difference in hairstyle and color, she could have been carved from the same mold.
"My homeland? O'Hara, in the West Blue."
She didn't lie. Toward the three Marines who had just saved her, Olvia felt not only gratitude, but an inexplicable trust.
At the mention of O'Hara, both Kuzan and Kyros widened their eyes slightly.
For good reason—O'Hara's reputation was immense.
Even Kyros, who had been born in the New World and spent his youth in the gladiator arena, had heard its name.
The legendary island of archaeologists.
A gathering place of scholars.
The home of the world's greatest archaeological minds.
"O'Hara! Right—this guy said earlier that you were a scholar."
"You're really from O'Hara? But why would an O'Hara scholar board an expedition ship?"
Kuzan tapped the frozen auction host beside him, recalling the introduction that man had given about Olvia earlier.
But then another question arose.
O'Hara had the largest collection of archaeological texts in the world. Even if one spent a lifetime studying there, they couldn't finish everything. Archaeology was incredibly broad—ancient medicine, ancient technology, countless subfields…
Why would a scholar from such a place choose to sail out at all?
"I grew tired of the monotonous research life. I wanted to experience something different."
This time, Olvia didn't speak truthfully.
She had set sail with her colleagues to search for the Poneglyphs—to uncover the truth of the Void Century. But she wasn't foolish. She understood the weight of that knowledge.
No matter how much she trusted the Marines who saved her, she could never reveal the real reason.
"I see…" Kuzan accepted the answer without suspicion. It sounded reasonable enough.
If he had to stare at dusty historical texts every day, he'd go crazy too.
Like most young men, Kuzan wasn't fond of studying.
Yoriichi listened quietly from the side. When Olvia claimed she'd left O'Hara because her research was boring, he smiled faintly but didn't expose the lie.
There was no point lingering here any longer. Unlike Kuzan, Yoriichi still remembered the original objective.
After using Observation Haki to locate where the slaves were being kept, Yoriichi drew his blade and sliced open the ground.
Following the widening crack, he leapt down.
Directly below the auction hall was a massive underground chamber—filled with cages of all shapes and sizes.
Inside them were countless slaves waiting to be sold.
Yoriichi landed lightly and swept his gaze across the dim space.
There were dozens of cages.
Inside the cages were youths, elders, children… and women.
When the slaves heard the commotion from above, they slowly lifted their heads. There was no curiosity in their eyes, no surprise—only deep, hollow despair.
The moment Yoriichi met those lifeless gazes, his expression darkened.
His hand tightened around the hilt of his blade. He drew a slow, steady breath and spoke to the prisoners:
"I am Yoriichi Tsugikuni, Major of Marine Headquarters."
"You are… free."
As he spoke, Yoriichi drew his blade in a single, fluid motion.
In the span of one breath, a hundred slashes flashed across the underground chamber. Terrifying arcs of sword light filled the space, and the cages shattered instantly—steel bars clattering to the floor with sharp ting ting clang sounds.
For a long while, there was silence.
Then, gradually, focus returned to the slaves' eyes.
The numb despair began to crack, replaced by something new—
Shock.
And overwhelming joy.
"F-free…?! We're free?!"
"The Marines… the Marines actually saved us?!"
"Hahahahaha! Free—we're free!!"
"No… impossible. That's impossible! We— we were sold to this place by the Marines! How could Marines come to save us?!"
The freed slaves poured out of the cages. Some cried with relief.
Some collapsed to their knees and howled toward the ceiling.
Others muttered in disbelief, as if they had just heard the most impossible miracle.
But amid the clamor, Yoriichi's ears caught something different—something wrong.
His eyes narrowed.
In an instant, he vanished from his spot.
"…Impossible. Impossible…"
"How could Marines save slaves? Those bastards, those bastards were the ones who—"
A shirtless youth knelt on the floor, hands braced against the ground, whispering in disbelief.
His back was covered in whip scars, some fresh and bleeding, some dark and crusted.
His name was Monk. Fifteen years old.
Originally… a chore boy of Marine Branch 133.
Marines saving slaves?
To Monk, it sounded like a joke that overturned his entire worldview.
His fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into flesh.
His bloodshot eyes twisted with hatred.
Then—
"You… were sold here by Marines?"
A young, earnest voice drifted down to him.
Monk looked up.
Standing before him was a red-haired boy.
The boy's brow was furrowed, and under the dim light, his fiery hair and flame-shaped markings stood out brilliantly.
"Yes!"
"I was sold here by the Marines! Those Marine ba—"
Monk roared, his months of rage finally finding release.
But mid-curse, he froze.
Yoriichi had silently appeared before him.
He placed a gentle hand on Monk's trembling shoulder and said quietly:
"Who were the ones responsible?"
"I'll take you to kill them."
All of Monk's rage, hatred, and despair shattered in that instant.
His body shook uncontrollably.
Then he collapsed, clutching Yoriichi's pant leg in a desperate grip, burying his face against Yoriichi's thigh as he broke into raw, heaving sobs.
⭐ Enjoying the story?You can read ahead and support the translations by joining my Patreon!Your support helps me update faster and take on more projects.Thank you for reading!
Read up to 50 chapters ahead!
patreon.com/AminaSims
PS: My third book finally got unbanned, you can check it out if you're looking for a decent the Boys fanfiction.