Arlong struggled underfoot, but Borsalino pressed down harder and spoke in his usual lazy tone, "Really~ you still had the nerve to show up here~?"
The fish-man's face twisted in agony. Tears poured down as he roared with fury, "I'll kill every single human on this island who betrayed Big Brother Tiger! Every last one of them!"
Borsalino drew in a slow puff of smoke. "Oh~ so its revenge, huh~?"
Arlong bared his teeth in hatred. "That's right! Fisher Tiger is dead! He was murdered by you filthy humans! I'll slaughter all of you!"
The vice admiral didn't even blink. "Oh~ I see, I see~ so he's already dead, is he~? That saves us the trouble~"
His index finger began to glow, light swirling at the tip as he pointed it at Arlong's forehead.
"But still~" he murmured. "You're coming with me. Mr. Wanted Criminal."
Arlong felt a crushing wave of killing intent aimed squarely at him. His body froze in place, trembling against his will.
For the first time in his life, he truly grasped the terror of a human powerhouse.
* * *
Days later. Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
In his office, Borsalino lounged back in his chair, lazily reading the newspaper.
Knock, knock, knock.
He set the paper down and called out, "Come in."
The door opened, and Strawberry stepped inside, his body wrapped in bandages from head to toe, even his head covered.
"Vice Admiral Borsalino," he greeted.
The vice admiral peered at him. "Oh~ You're up and moving already, Strawberry~?"
Strawberry let out a weary smile. "Yes. But I suffered quite a lot."
Borsalino tilted his head, curious. "Someone managed to injure you this badly~?"
Strawberry's brow furrowed. "Those ones we locked up a few days ago, Arlong and the others, they're nothing but small fry. The real dangerous one is Jinbe…"
Just the thought of the fish-man's towering frame and monstrous strength made him uneasy. Even after years of training and his rank as rear admiral, he had been powerless before that raw, overwhelming martial skill. If not for Jinbe's worry over Tiger's safety, Strawberry might not have survived.
"His strength is not normal," he muttered. "To let him go unchecked could be dangerous."
Borsalino's expression grew thoughtful. "Oh~?"
His gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to the wall where a framed phrase hung: Unclear Justice.
No one knew what was going through his mind.
* * *
Meanwhile, East Blue, Foosha Village.
Inside Patys bar, a young Luffy sat next to Shanks, sweat running down his forehead from the pain, but he kept his lips pressed together and forced a grin. Pointing at the bandage under his left eye, he declared proudly, "See? I'm not afraid of pain at all."
Shanks rubbed his temple, exasperated. "Don't lie to me! And stop doing stupid things!"
Luffy puffed up his chest, still trying to act tough. "I don't even care if I get hurt! Next time you set sail, take me with you, Shanks! I want to be a pirate as well!"
Bursting out laughing, Shanks deliberately mocked him. "You? No way, no way! Dahahahaha!"
His crew joined in, their laughter filling the tavern.
"Hahahaha!"
Luffy clenched his fists and jumped onto the chair. "Dammit! My fists are like pistols! And I can swim really well too!"
Shanks raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Snapping his head around, Luffy glared. "What's that tone supposed to mean?!"
Lucky Roux chuckled from the side. "It means you're still just a kid, Luffy. Hahaha."
The boy shouted back furiously, "I'm not a kid anymore! I'm a grown-up!"
Shanks slid a glass of juice toward him. "Alright, alright. No need to get so worked up. Here, have some juice."
Luffy grabbed the cup and gulped it down in one go. "Thanks!"
The entire bar erupted in laughter again. Shanks, pounding the table with tears in his eyes, laughed louder than anyone. "And you say you're not a kid! Dahahaha!"
Realization hit Luffy like a hammer. His face turned red with rage. "Dammit! That's not fair, Shanks! Stop laughing—!"
Boom!
The tavern door suddenly burst apart with a thunderous crash.
A man in a brown coat stepped through, a long sword at his waist, flanked by a group of underlings with white headscarves.
"Sorry for barging in," he said casually, though his tone carried no trace of apology.
His eyes swept the room, settling on the Red Hair crew. A smirk tugged at his lips. "So these are pirates, huh. First time seeing one up close. You all look like idiots though."
He strode toward the counter and fixed his gaze on the young bartender. "We're mountain bandits. But we're not here to rob you. Bring me ten barrels of sake. We'll pay."
Makino hesitated. All the alcohol had already been drained by Shanks and his crew. "I'm sorry… all the liquor was just sold out…"
The bandit leader's face darkened. "Huh? And what were those freakish-looking pirates drinking, then? Don't tell me it was water!"
Shing!
With a sharp motion, he drew his blade and slammed it against the counter.
Makino flinched, her face pale. Shanks rose to his feet with a calm smile. "My apologies. We really did finish all the sake. But if you don't mind, I've still got one bottle left."
He held out the last bottle to the bandit leader.
The man looked at it for a moment, then smashed it with his fist.
Crash!
The bottle shattered, its contents splashing across the floor.
"You think I'm some kind of fool?" he snarled. "Bastard. Who the hell can drink their fill with just one bottle?"
Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a bounty poster. "Take a good look. I've got a bounty of eight million. Don't forget it."
He held the poster in Shanks' face, speaking in a low, menacing voice. "Guys like you, who stand up thinking they're somebody, I've already killed fifty-six of them."
The poster read clearly: Bandit Higuma. Bounty: 8,000,000. Dead or Alive.
* * *
The New World. Punk Hazard.
Vegapunk waited at the harbor. The description Sakazuki had given of this new 'specimen's' abilities and potential had sparked his interest.
Moments later, the admiral emerged, nodding at the man he hadn't seen in years. Since the purge operation began, it had been a long time, and he had to admit… Vegapunk had changed a lot.
"Vegapunk… you…" Sakazuki pointed at the man's thinning hair. He remembered a far sharper, more upright figure. But now…
Vegapunk touched his scalp and gave a rueful smile. "Ah, I forgot my hat. Nothing much, just age catching up with me, and the work isn't exactly light on the brain. As for the hair…"
He shrugged, pretending not to care. But the way he pressed down his few strands with deliberate care told a different story.
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