The wailing siren ripped through the coastal air of Shells Town, transforming the previously vibrant port into a theater of high anxiety. Wooden shutters slammed shut down the cobblestone streets as merchants and residents scrambled for cover. Inside the dimly lit tavern, the scent of fresh flour and sweet yeast clashed with the sharp, metallic tang of the impending conflict.
"You must listen to me," the old baker pleaded, his flour-dusted hands trembling as he tugged at the sleeve of Soren's linen shirt. "There is a root cellar beneath the kitchen. It is damp, but it will keep you hidden from the patrols. Morgan's men will search every inch of this town, but they rarely check the old storage bins."
Soren looked down at the terrified man, his messy black hair falling over his striking blue eyes. The cheerful, silly demeanor that usually danced across his handsome face melted away, leaving a bedrock of absolute dependability. He gently placed his calloused hand over the baker's trembling fingers, offering a smile that was both warm and fiercely protective.
"That is incredibly kind of you, sir," Soren said, his voice a steady, calming anchor amid the blaring sirens. "But if we hide in your cellar, and those cowardly soldiers find us, they will burn your bakery to the ground and brand you a traitor. Friendship and goodwill mean stepping up to protect those who helped you, not using them as human shields. We will not let you take the fall for our actions."
Zoro stood near the shattered tavern window, his massive arms crossed tightly over his green haramaki. His silver eyes tracked the distant movement of white uniforms swarming near the Marine base. "The chronologer is right," Zoro grunted, a dangerous thrill lacing his gruff voice. "Besides, hiding in a basement is a terrible way to become the world's greatest swordsman. I prefer to face my problems head-on."
"See?" Soren beamed, his sunny personality flaring back to life as he patted the thick leather journal at his hip. "The moss-head agrees with me. Now, keep your granddaughter safe. We have a rather pressing appointment with a tyrant."
Without waiting for further argument, Soren stepped out into the sunlit square, pulling a piece of charcoal from his waterproof pouch to quickly jot down a few notes about the town's architecture. Zoro followed, exuding a terrifying, focused aura, and immediately took a sharp left toward a brick wall.
"The base is that way, champion," Soren sighed cheerfully, reaching out to hook his fingers into the back of Zoro's collar and physically rotating the swordsman one hundred and eighty degrees. "Unless you plan on cutting through a solid block of stone houses, which, honestly, would be very loud and terrible for my notetaking."
Zoro scowled, slapping Soren's hand away. "I was just taking the scenic route to confuse our enemies." "Absolutely," Soren laughed, pocketing his charcoal. "A masterful tactical deception."
The two men walked shoulder-to-shoulder up the main thoroughfare leading toward the towering Marine spire. The streets were eerily deserted, the silence broken only by the continuous, rhythmic wail of the alarm. As they crested a slight hill overlooking a wider courtyard, their path was abruptly blocked.
A platoon of heavily armed Marines stood in a tight formation, their rifles raised and aimed squarely at the duo. At the front of the blockade stood a lanky, arrogant-looking young man with a prominent cleft chin, wearing an obnoxious purple suit. He held a thick chain, at the end of which snarled a massive, muscle-bound wolf hound with feral, bloodshot eyes.
"There they are!" the young man shrieked, his voice cracking with entitled fury. "I am
Helmeppo, son of Captain Morgan! You dared to strike my father's soldiers! For that, I am going to let my pet tear you to shreds!"
Before Helmeppo could unleash the beast, a small voice cried out from the alleyway to their left. It was the baker's little granddaughter, clutching a small wrapped bundle of rice balls. She had followed them out of gratitude. The wolf hound's ears pinned back. Sensing the easier, smaller prey, the massive canine snapped its chain from Helmeppo's weak grasp and lunged with terrifying speed toward the little girl.
"No!" Soren roared, the sunny facade shattering instantly. But Zoro was already moving. With a burst of speed that defied human limits, the green-haired swordsman intercepted the beast's trajectory.
He did not even bother drawing his blades fully. In a fluid, brutal motion, Zoro slammed the heavy, blunt pommel of his white-handled katana directly into the wolf hound's snout. The sickening crunch of impact echoed through the square as the beast whimpered, collapsing into a heavy, unconscious heap on the cobblestones.
"Keep your mutt on a tighter leash, brat," Zoro growled, his silver eyes locking onto Helmeppo with lethal intent.
"Fire! Shoot them both!" Helmeppo panicked, scrambling backward behind his men.
The Marines squeezed their triggers, but Soren was already a blur of calculated violence. He dove into the front line, his long curved knife flashing in the sunlight. He did not use the edge; instead, he used the flat of the blade to expertly deflect the bayonets thrust his way. With his free hand, he executed a series of devastating, closequarters martial arts strikes. A palm thrust shattered a Marine's guard; a sweeping kick shattered another's balance.
When three soldiers tried to flank Zoro, Soren tapped into his Devil Fruit. He slammed his palm against the cobblestones. Wood-Wood Resonance. Thick, fibrous green roots exploded from the dirt beneath the stones, whipping upward to entangle the legs of the flanking Marines, sending them crashing face-first into the dirt.
"I have your back, Zoro!" Soren called out smoothly, spinning on his heel to deliver a punishing roundhouse kick to a soldier trying to sneak up behind him.
"Worry about yourself, chronologer!" Zoro shot back, though a fierce, appreciative grin stretched across his face as he drew two swords, effortlessly disarming a half-dozen
Marines with a flurry of blinding, blunt-force strikes.
Within seconds, the imposing platoon was reduced to a groaning, tangled mess of bruised bodies and wooden vines. Helmeppo stood alone, his knees knocking violently together as his purple suit suddenly looked entirely too large for his shrinking frame.
"My... my father will kill you!" Helmeppo stammered, backing away toward the massive iron gates of the Marine base. "He has an axe for a hand! He is invincible!"
Soren casually wiped a speck of dust from his linen shirt, his bright, happy smile returning in full force. He pulled his leather journal and charcoal from his pouch, taking a moment to sketch the utterly defeated look on Helmeppo's face. "Your father sounds like a truly delightful man. I cannot wait to write about him."
Just as Zoro stepped forward to properly interrogate the spoiled son, a bizarre, stretching sound echoed from high above them. It sounded like thick rubber being pulled to its absolute tearing point.
Soren and Zoro looked up simultaneously. High above the towering stone walls of the Marine base, a figure was hurtling through the air at breakneck speed. It was a young boy wearing a bright red vest and a battered straw hat. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, laughing hysterically as his arms, which appeared to be stretched out an impossible fifty feet behind him, finally snapped back to his sides.
Like a human cannonball, the straw-hatted boy crashed violently into the courtyard, completely obliterating a stone statue of Captain Morgan and sending a massive cloud of dust and debris billowing into the air.
Soren blinked, instinctively raising his arm to shield his eyes from the dust. As the cloud settled, the boy casually stood up from the crater, dusting off his red vest as if he had simply tripped on a rug. He adjusted his straw hat, looking around the devastated courtyard with wide, curious eyes before locking onto Soren and Zoro.
"Ouch! That was a crazy landing!" the boy laughed, flashing a massive, toothy grin. He pointed a finger directly at Zoro's waist. "Hey! You have three swords! Are you that Zoro guy I heard about?"
Soren stared at the bizarre, rubbery boy, then looked at the groaning Marines, the terrified Helmeppo, and the utterly perplexed expression on Zoro's normally stoic face. A massive, joyous laugh bubbled up from Soren's chest. He flipped to a brand new page in his journal, his charcoal poised and ready. The true grand adventure had finally arrived.