~ Support & Read 13 Advanced Chapters on Patreon!
❁❁❁❁
The familiar name pierced through the haze of sleep. Arthur's eyes snapped open, his gaze falling upon the white-haired woman on the Marine warship, who was now staring back at him.
Years...
It had been years since he'd last seen her. She looked the same, but the unwavering conviction that had once burned in her eyes was gone, replaced by a deep and abiding sorrow.
People were such complicated things.
Once, in the reckless arrogance of youth, you believe your choices are the only right ones, and you walk your path without a second thought. But then you live, you see more of the world, and you learn that some things simply cannot be defied by sheer will.
Perhaps every young person dreams of changing the world. But as they grow, they don't notice that the world is slowly, inexorably, changing them.
Arthur was no different. He had once believed his arrival would alter the course of this world, that he, at least, would remain unchanged by it, that he would never become like the irrational monsters who ruled it.
But somewhere along the line, the people he met, the things he saw—they had forced him to change. He hadn't even realized it himself. Pushed again and again by the tide of the era, he had slowly adapted.
The world never changes. It is people who are fickle. Perhaps the only thing that remains constant is the conviction you hold in your heart.
——————————
"Olvia?"
Arthur threw aside the blanket covering him and ripped the IV tubes from his chest and arms. He rose slowly to his feet. The movement sent a fresh wave of agony through his wounds, but he paid it no mind. He simply frowned, a single question on his lips.
"Cough, cough... Olvia. You're still alive?"
A defenseless woman, wandering the Grand Line for so many years in search of the Poneglyphs, had somehow managed to survive. It was nothing short of a miracle.
"HUH?? THUNDER EMPEROR ARTHUR?!"
Saul, who had been about to engage Doflamingo, caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye. The sight of the terrifying pirate—one of the most wanted men in the world—sent a jolt of pure dread through him. He became like a man facing a mortal enemy, forgetting all about his fight with Doflamingo.
He knew his own limits. He knew he was no match for Arthur. He immediately began to calculate his escape.
It was a futile effort. If Arthur truly wanted a man dead, it wouldn't matter if he fled to the ends of the earth.
He wouldn't even have to do it himself. A single bounty, issued through the underworld, and countless powers eager to curry favor with the Thunder God Pirates would do the work for him.
Publicly, secretly—they would use every means at their disposal.
That was the difference between a superpower and a lone wolf.
Redfield, on his own, could search his entire life and never find the Devil Fruit he sought. But if Arthur wanted that same fruit, while there was no guarantee, his chances of obtaining it were infinitely greater than Redfield's.
Unless one was truly accustomed to solitude, building or joining a great power was always more advantageous than going it alone.
"Is the Thunder Emperor interested in this woman?" Doflamingo, who had been about to make his move, immediately stopped. He asked the question tentatively, while signaling for the Donquixote pirates to stand down.
If Arthur showed any desire for Olvia, Doflamingo would capture her for him, no matter the cost.
So far, the Arthur in Doflamingo's mind was still the man who seemed indifferent to everything. He had never shown any particular interest in anything, save for information on men like Redfield and Whitebeard, and the occasional glance at what new Devil Fruits had appeared on the sea.
In short, Doflamingo had no idea what Arthur was thinking, or what his next move would be.
Such a man was simply too dangerous. To not care about anything meant that he had already... categorized everything.
Strong and weak. Useful and useless.
If that was the case, what was the difference between an ant and a man?
Were the useless things just trash?
Clever men tended to overthink things. Arthur was simply too lazy to care about things that no longer felt new or exciting.
Though, strictly speaking, Doflamingo's assessment wasn't entirely wrong.
——————————
"Stay back," Arthur said, waving a hand to dismiss Doflamingo. He watched Nico Olvia with a flicker of interest.
To see a person who had refused his advice, who had stubbornly walked step by step into the abyss—for him, it was a novel experience.
"Do you regret it now, Olvia? Regret is written all over your face. It's a far cry from the look you had back then... how unsightly—"
Arthur slowly walked to the edge of the great flamingo ship, shaking his head.
"You knew all along, didn't you?" Olvia asked, her expression a complex mixture of emotions. "You knew what the World Government would do."
"Any idiot could have seen it coming," Arthur sneered. "Only you fools, with your naïve, wishful thinking, believed that unearthing a history they destroyed would contribute anything to the world."
"You were trying to uncover the secrets of the World Government—secrets they have buried for eight hundred years. You were seeking your own annihilation. If it were so easy to investigate, do you think it would have remained hidden for eight centuries?"
What Ohara did was like a small-time pirate constantly trying to uncover Arthur's own secrets. For a while, he might ignore their scurrying. But if that little pirate pushed their luck, their only fate would be to be swatted like a fly.
"The truth cannot be hidden. One day, it will see the light again! Arthur... please, help us! Only you can protect Ohara!!"
Thinking of the horror of the Buster Call, tears streamed down Olvia's face. Her body went limp, and she collapsed to the deck, begging.
This was the only option she could think of now.
For years, she had wandered the seas in search of the Poneglyphs, and all the while, she had watched as Arthur's Thunder God Pirates grew step by step into a behemoth.
If Arthur helped her, the World Government would surely hesitate. At the very least, Ohara could be saved, right? It wouldn't have to become a footnote in history.
"What a pity. I have absolutely no interest in Ohara. Something without any value—I can't even be bothered to look at it," Arthur refused, his voice cold and ruthless.
What did Ohara have? Archaeological knowledge? The ability to decipher the Poneglyphs? He would consider that when he actually became interested in the Poneglyphs.
Beyond that, Ohara was useless.
The island had no special resources, no powerful people. Not a shred of value to be found.
On these chaotic seas, a man who knew how to fish was more useful than a so-called scholar.
As for the history itself, the super-powerful nation that was hinted at from eight hundred years ago—Arthur already had his own theories.
Perhaps it was related to the "D. Clan." Perhaps it was related to the Devil Fruits. But none of that mattered.
Arthur's only concern right now was when he could get back to Raijin Island, gather his own doctors, and have this terrifying wound from Garp's fist completely healed.
If he delayed any longer, even with a divine object like Pure Gold, the injury would seep into his very bones. At that point, not even the best medical skills in the world could save him.
❁❁❁❁
~ 13 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon!
https://p-atreon.com/dragonnx
(Just remove the hyphen to access Patreon normally.)