Evening. On the marine warship leaving the ruined island.
Bullet lay on the bed, wrapped head to toe in bandages. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
Pain shot through every inch of his body, like his flesh was tearing apart. He stared up at the familiar ceiling above him and muttered, "I'm back, huh."
The agony didn't stop him from moving. He pushed himself up and stood on the floor. Twisting his neck, stretching his arms wide, he rolled his shoulders and yawned.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The tight bandages around him burst one after another. His wounds split open again, blood seeping through, but he didn't flinch. Pain gnawed at his nerves, yet his only response was a long exhale.
"Haah… that feels better."
He reached out and snatched the Justice cloak hanging on the wall. Draping it over his shoulders, he strode out of the room.
The moment he stepped outside, voices filled the air.
"Vice Admiral Bullet!"
"Vice Admiral!"
"Sir Bullet!"
Salutes and greetings came from every direction as he walked.
He nodded slightly, acknowledging them, then turned toward his approaching second-in-command and asked, "Where's that man's body?"
The officer replied, "It's already frozen. The spoils have been placed in your quarters. Also, Admiral Sakazuki asked you to return his call."
Bullet gave a nod. "Got it. Fetch me the Den Den Mushi and the sword."
"Yes, sir."
Moments later, the black blade Yoru and the Den Den Mushi were placed in his hands. Bullet weighed the blade, then swung it toward the sea in a single arc.
Boom!
A deafening roar followed. A massive gash split the ocean surface, carving a path that lingered for a while before the waves crashed back together.
Compared to Mihawk cleaving the sea in half, the power was clearly lacking.
Bullet shook his head and said, "So this is what they call a famed blade gathering dust. Put it back."
Handing the sword to his second-in-command, he dialed Sakazuki's number. A few seconds later, the call connected.
A deep voice came through, "How's your body?"
Bullet grinned. "Nothing serious. A few days' rest and I'll be fine."
"Good," the admiral responded. "Head straight to Punk Hazard and deliver Mihawk's body to Dr. Vegapunk. While you're there, ask for some funds."
Bullet raised a brow. "Funds?"
A sigh came from the other side. "That island you two fought on was part of a World Government member nation. You destroyed a third of it. Most of it was mountains, but the port is completely gone. I've been getting complaint calls nonstop.
"Take the body to the research division and exchange it for money. I've already spoken with Vegapunk. A swordsman with such talent... if his body can be turned into a weapon or modified, the government will gladly pay. Use that money to fund the reconstruction of Lirga Island's port."
Bullet rubbed the back of his neck with a bitter laugh. "Alright, alright. I got carried away in the fight and didn't pay attention."
"It's fine," Sakazuki's steady tone returned. "Just rest well."
After a few more words of idle chatter, the call ended.
Bullet sighed helplessly. He had gone too far this time... blowing away a third of a member nation's land. Of course, compensation was inevitable.
* * *
Days later, late reports finally spread the news of Bullet's clash with Mihawk.
The man once seen as a challenger to the title of "World's Strongest Swordsman," the "Marine Hunter," Dracule Mihawk was dead.
After slaying the famed "Dark King" Rayleigh and now Mihawk, Bullet, the Vice Admiral known as the "Blue Devil," was given a new name across the seas.
The "Swordsman Destroyer."
* * *
East Blue. Near the Goa Kingdom.
A nearly shattered warship drifted on the ocean. The vessel was looted clean, its deck littered with severed limbs.
From the wreckage, one of CP's strongest agents, Who's Who, dragged himself up, drenched in blood.
"Da… damned pirates…"
His hands trembled as he pulled out a Den Den Mushi. He knew the punishment for mission failure would be harsh, but he refused to die here in the endless sea.
* * *
Far across the waves. Aboard the Red-Haired Pirates' ship.
Their crew were gathered around piles of treasure, hauling open the stolen chests overflowing with gold and silver.
Shanks lifted a box of golden jewelry and carried it to the deck. With a loud thud, he set it down and opened the lid. He pulled out a sparkling piece inlaid with gemstones, his eyes drifting to the young girl standing on the ship's forward cannon.
"Uta."
She hopped down at once, her eyes lighting up at the jewelry. "Wow! It's beautiful! Thank you, Shanks!"
Shanks smiled faintly as she put the trinkets on.
"How do I look?" she asked eagerly.
The crew whistled and cheered.
"Sing us a song, Uta!"
"The world's number one singer!"
"Uta! Uta!"
Their voices rose until the entire ship was alive with celebration. Uta began to sing, her voice sweeping over the deck, and the men swayed and clapped along.
Shanks watched in silence, lips curled in a soft smile. After a while, he quietly walked toward the pile of treasure.
He was looking for something.
From the largest chest, he pulled out a smaller purple-striped box. Opening it gently, a Devil Fruit with swirling patterns came into view.
Shanks stared at it, his face unreadable. Even his closest crewmates, those who had sailed with him from the very beginning, would have found it strange to see such a look on his face.
Uta's sudden voice behind him broke his trance. "Shanks~ What are you doing?"
He quickly adjusted his expression and turned with a smile. "Nothing, really."
Her gaze fell on the ornate little box in his hands. "Is that for me too?"
Shanks gave a dry laugh. "Heh… even if you're my daughter, this one isn't for you."
Uta puffed her cheeks. "Stingy!" She turned away.
"Don't say that. Look." He chuckled and pointed toward the island ahead, smoothly changing the subject. "That's the Goa Kingdom. I plan to make this place our temporary base."
* * *
Foosha Village. In the forest nearby.
A boy in a white shirt perched high on a tree branch, rubbing his bruised forehead.
"Why does Grandpa's fist have to hurt so much…"
He scowled and kicked his feet. "I don't wanna be a stupid Marine. I'm gonna leave this village and do something big!"
He leapt from branch to branch, moving nimbly through the trees. Just as he was heading toward the harbor, he stopped and looked out at the sea.
"Is that… a pirate ship?"
* * *
The distant island was serene and beautiful, its scenery peaceful, almost too idyllic.
Uta said flatly, "What a lovely place. There's nothing."
Shanks added, "Foosha Village is on the border of the Goa Kingdom. Naturally, it's quieter here."
The huge pirate ship drifted slowly into port. Yet instead of screaming in fear, the villagers doing laundry or selling fruit simply observed with curiosity.
It had been a long time since pirates had shown up in Foosha Village. Being on the edge of the kingdom, and with a marine vice admiral often returning home here, the people felt no fear of trouble.
The boy in the white shirt ran from the forest to the shore. Lips pressed tight, he glared at the crew on deck.
"Are you pirates?"
Uta, balancing on the mast like it was a tightrope, flashed a mischievous grin. "Yeah! Got a problem with that? If you do, then speak up. Captain Shanks' daughter, Uta, will hear you out."
Sweat dripped down the boy's forehead, but he yelled anyway, "If you're pirates, then get out of here!"
Uta's eyes widened. "What, you wanna fight?"
Before it could escalate, Shanks stepped forward onto the deck. "Don't be like that, Uta. We're not here to cause trouble. This village has a… very troublesome sheriff."
The boy blinked, caught off guard by how different this pirate seemed from the terrifying stories his grandfather always told. He asked hesitantly, "Who... who are you?"
Shanks smiled warmly. "I'm Shanks, the captain of this ship."
The boy raised his fists. "If you try anything funny, I won't let you off easy!"
Uta scoffed and turned away with a huff.
But the crewmates who had already stepped off the ship froze abruptly. The joyful mood disappeared as they clustered around Lucky Roux, staring at the newspaper in his hands.
"This can't be..."
"No way!"
"That guy..."
The meat slipped from Lucky Roux's hand, hitting the ground unnoticed. His round face twisted with disbelief as he shouted toward his captain, "Boss! Mihawk, he…"
In a blur, Shanks vanished from the deck and appeared in front of him, snatching the paper. His eyes locked on the headline. His hands trembled.
After a long silence, his voice came hoarse and unbelieving.
"Mihawk…"
**
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