This square was guarded by Marine soldiers, though only a small detail was stationed here.
Patrols passed through regularly; since the execution platform held immense symbolic meaning for every pirate, almost any outsider who came to the island with pirate intentions would make a point of visiting it.
That was why the Marines maintained a presence here, however modest.
Climbing or standing upon the platform was strictly forbidden. By doing exactly that, Oboro instantly drew every eye in the square.
"Who is that man?"
"How did he get up there? Did you see that?"
"Mom, look! Someone's standing up there!"
Passersby who had been strolling or chatting stopped in their tracks, craning their necks to stare. Children pointed excitedly toward the platform.
"Another pirate? Only pirates would do something so foolish and reckless…"
"Doesn't look like one to me. He's dressed very smartly, wearing a gentleman's hat… though I can't see his face clearly."
As the murmurs grew louder, Oboro remained standing calmly on the platform, showing no sign of coming down.
Soon, two Marines stationed at the far edge of the square came rushing over, sweating and breathless.
"Hey! You up there… get down immediately!" one of them shouted.
Oboro stood silhouetted against the bright sunlight. At the sound of the order, he simply stepped forward into empty space and began to fall.
Many onlookers gasped in horror; several women covered their mouths, barely suppressing screams. The platform stood quite high — falling from it would cripple or kill an ordinary person.
But just as he was about to touch the ground, the elegant man in the black suit shifted his weight with the lightness of a drifting feather.
He landed smoothly and silently on the stone pavement, as if he had simply stepped down from a low step.
It was nothing short of miraculous.
"Y‑you…"
No ordinary citizen would ever dare set foot on that platform. The soldier's suspicions were instantly aroused — this stranger was most likely a pirate.
But before he could say another word, his body froze completely, rigid and unmoving where he stood.
To everyone else, it looked as though Oboro had simply nodded politely, tipped the brim of his hat in a courteous gesture, and walked right past him.
The Marine had not made any trouble. No one noticed anything strange or amiss.
The crowd slowly dispersed. The second soldier who had run over was also left standing motionless, rooted to the spot.
And so, Oboro, Dom, and Dorrance left the square without incident.
Shortly after they were gone, two women in civilian clothes passed by, carrying bundles of supplies.
They were both Marines.
One of them wore red‑framed glasses and carried a katana at her hip.
"Hey, Tashigi… looks like something happened here," the other woman said, frowning.
She had noticed everyone whispering and pointing, and could tell something had recently taken place in the center of the square, where people were just breaking up.
They paused to listen to the gossip and soon learned: someone had climbed onto the execution platform.
It wasn't exactly a rare occurrence.
They had been out purchasing provisions.
Loguetown had been on high alert and extremely busy these past few days, ever since word spread that the God‑Slayer might have entered the East Blue.
Ordinarily, Tashigi should have been on duty with Smoker… but due to his stubborn, difficult nature, he had sent her away on errands instead.
It annoyed her, but as a subordinate, she could only follow orders.
She could still picture Smoker's grim expression, cigar clamped between his teeth, saying nothing while making his thoughts perfectly clear.
He believed that if the God‑Slayer really had come to the East Blue… she was too weak to be of any use and would only end up getting herself killed.
Thinking about it made her even more frustrated.
A moment later, the two women reached the foot of the platform and found the two guards standing completely still, like statues.
There was no sign of the person responsible.
"This isn't right!"
Tashigi realized immediately that something was wrong. She dropped her packages and ran over to check on the soldiers.
Their eyes were moving, and they were fully conscious — but their limbs were stiff as stone, and they were completely unable to speak or make a sound.
What on earth happened?!
After examining them and finding no way to break the paralysis, Tashigi grabbed a nearby pedestrian and demanded every detail of what had just occurred.
Then she pulled out her Den Den Mushi and called Smoker to report.
"Dressed in a black suit… wearing a round gentleman's hat… and a mask covering half his face… A mask?"
From the other end of the line came a low, cold voice. As Tashigi described the stranger's appearance, Smoker paused, his mind turning over the detail of the mask.
---
Aboard a warship out at sea, Smoker sat with his feet propped up on his desk, puffing on his cigar and deep in thought.
A while later, one of his subordinates pushed open the door and entered, holding a sheet of paper.
The Marines stationed in Loguetown were highly efficient and well‑trained.
Thanks to the preparations made in case the God‑Slayer appeared, they had gathered intelligence on every stranger entering the town.
When they compared the description of the man who climbed the platform against their files, they found a match.
"Three people… claiming to be from the Goa Kingdom… the man in the black suit goes by the name Zilchand."
"Said they arrived on a cargo ship… supposedly affiliated with some merchant guild?"
The more Smoker read, the deeper his frown became. "Fools! Look at the way he dresses — does that look like an ordinary crew member? Or a manager? If he were really a sailor, why would he go out of his way to climb onto that platform for no reason?!"
His gaze turned sharp and cold.
His instincts screamed: Pirate!
He had a theory in mind, but until he could confirm it, he kept it to himself.
He didn't want to report it yet. If this wasn't the man who killed the Celestial Dragon, raising a false alarm would only make those arrogant bastards in the Holy Land feel disappointed — and they would take it out on him.
Besides, he wanted to avoid alerting his prey before he could catch him.
But if this man was the God‑Slayer… then that would be perfect.
"To think you'd run all the way to the East Blue… and straight to Loguetown. If it really is you… then your journey ends here."
Scum fleeing from the Grand Line…
He didn't care who the God‑Slayer was or what he had done. All he knew was that if he crossed his path, he would make sure he paid dearly.
Here, luck meant nothing.
Smoker had seen enough of those so‑called "great men" from the Grand Line. If it weren't for his uncompromising attitude and the fact that his superiors disliked him, he wouldn't have been assigned to some backwater post like the East Blue. Not that he minded the quiet life…
"Set course back to Loguetown immediately. Full speed!"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
---
Later that night, in a hidden basement beneath Loguetown…
Oboro sat atop a stack of wooden wine barrels, looking down at a row of trembling pirates kneeling before him. He smiled.
"So… how about it? Interested in making a deal?"
Standing nearby was a pirate covered in fresh blood, his face twisted in a mix of ecstasy and disbelief. He stared at his own hands, muttering over and over: "I'm stronger… I really am stronger! By all the gods… it's true!"
The other pirates had watched the entire transformation — seeing this man go from weak and powerless to strong and terrifying — and they were utterly shaken.
"Right now, the Marines are searching every corner of the town," Oboro said, his voice low, magnetic, and persuasive in the dim light lit only by a few candles.
"For all of you… and for me… showing our faces means the end. We're all dead men anyway. Why not gamble? What if you win? And best of all… you'll gain real power. The kind of power that will let you rise up and rule these seas."
"The better you perform for me, the stronger I'll make you. It's a fair deal… a very profitable deal."
"And I know exactly how to get every one of you out of Loguetown alive…"
To every pirate listening, his words carried the weight of magic.
____________________
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