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G-8 Fortress Port
A marine-blue single-person speedboat sat quietly by the dock. It was the same model as the one Kanos Atlas had originally piloted from Marine Headquarters—a standard-issue military craft.
Unfortunately, that one had broken down for good after the modifications involving Impact Dials helped it reach G-8.
The new vessel had been acquired from an old mechanic in the branch's maintenance unit. It had cost Atlas several bottles of alcohol to get him to approve the request.
Moments later, Atlas sailed out of the fortress under the warm glow of the early morning sun. Sunbeams pierced through the clouds and bathed the vast blue sea in light.
After a few hours at sea, G-8 had long since disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving only the boundless ocean stretching out in every direction.
"It should be around this route… I'll likely encounter the Ekrem Pirates soon,"
Atlas muttered as he mentally reviewed the details from the intel, trying to stave off the boredom of sea travel.
—
Nearby Waters – G-8 Sector
A battered pirate ship drifted unsteadily across the waves. On the wide deck, a few injured pirates sat slumped, wrapped in bloodstained bandages.
Many looked pale, likely from severe blood loss. Leaning against the scarred mast was a burly bald man with a cold, indifferent gaze.
Despite his brutal appearance, his face had regained some color—it seemed his wounds had already healed.
"Ekrem, what's our next move?"
A sickly-looking pirate next to him—still recovering—asked casually, showing no fear, unlike the others.
"We'll head back to the South Blue to recruit replacements for our lost crew,"
Ekrem answered slowly, speaking to his first mate, Wirts. But Wirts didn't notice the flash of cruelty that flickered in Ekrem's eyes.
"Captain Ekrem!!"
Suddenly, the only intact lookout tower rang with alarm. A pirate stationed there had gone pale and shouted down, "We've got a Marine sighting! Three o'clock!"
"What?!"
Ekrem and Wirts tensed immediately. Their current state was pathetic—crew depleted, leaders wounded.
While not completely helpless, their combat strength had been significantly diminished. And now, Marines?
"How many?!"
Both men shouted at once, prepared to fight with their backs against the wall. Ekrem's desire to retire grew stronger—this sea was far too cruel.
"Looks like just… one?" the lookout pirate said, uncertainly. "Just one Marine."
"WHAT?!"
The pirates on deck erupted in disbelief and rage. Sure, they'd taken heavy losses in the New World, but they were still a big-name crew in Paradise. Sending just one Marine after them was a direct insult!
"Bring us in closer!" Ekrem roared. "I'll gut that bastard myself!"
He grinned savagely, eyes gleaming with a thirst for blood. All of his frustration was now aimed at this lone Marine.
—
Up above, Atlas had already spotted the broken pirate ship. With a swift motion, he launched himself into the sky from the speedboat.
Moonwalk (Geppō)!
As if walking on invisible steps in the air, Atlas calmly ascended and hovered above the pirate ship, casting a long shadow over the shocked crew.
"Don't panic! It's just Moonwalk!" Ekrem shouted. As someone who had sailed into the New World, he wouldn't be fazed by basic Rokushiki.
Still, the fact that this young Marine could use it—and held only a Captain rank—made him cautious.
There were very few Marines in Paradise capable of using Moonwalk, especially at such a young age. Was this kid one of the HQ's secret weapons?
"Oi, Marine brat! I'm Ekrem, with a bounty of 200 million Berries!" Ekrem barked, trying to intimidate him.
But Atlas just smiled coldly. The bigger the bounty, the more excited he got.
"Yeah, I know. Just another beaten dog."
Before Ekrem could react in anger, Atlas was already reaching for the Sandai Kitetsu at his waist.
Ittō-ryū: Falling Star Slash!
Dozens of massive sword strikes rained down like meteors. The already-wrecked pirate ship exploded into flying debris.
The final expressions of many pirates were frozen in shocked terror as they were torn apart.
"YOU BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" Ekrem bellowed.
He didn't care about his fallen men. They could be replaced.
What he truly grieved was the loss of their remaining treasure, which now lay in pieces at the bottom of the ocean—his dreams of retiring a rich man shattered.
"Ekrem! Calm down!" Wirts yelled, trying to restrain him. The once-mighty crew had been reduced to just the two of them.
Now they floated half-submerged in the sea, gripping onto wreckage. Thankfully, neither of them was a Devil Fruit user.
They managed to haul themselves onto a large enough piece of debris to avoid drowning.
Atlas hovered silently above, eyes cold. Hovering mid-air with Moonwalk drained stamina fast, but for someone like Atlas, it barely mattered.
"Marine, sir… can you let us go? I just want to retire and live a quiet life," Ekrem begged, trembling after witnessing Atlas's strength.
But Atlas's keen Observation Haki detected the faint killing intent still lingering within him.
"Hmph. The pathetic howls of a defeated dog."
He raised his blade again—
"WAIT! I'll go to Impel Down! I surrender! Please—just take me in alive!"
"You bastard Marine! I'll never forgive you! Damn you—"
Atlas ignored their pleas and insults. Who wastes time arguing with the dead?
Ittō-ryū: Crescent Moon Slash!
A sweeping, crescent-shaped wave of Haki-clad steel cut clean through the air.
Shhk—
A thin red line slowly appeared across both men's torsos. The force of the slash didn't stop—it carved a bloody canyon into the sea itself.
Then, their bodies split cleanly in half along the wound. Upper halves slumped onto the ocean surface. Lower halves slumped on the wreckage.
From a distance, they looked exactly like…
Defeated dogs.
Scattered ship debris floated around them. The deep blue sea turned crimson. Dismembered corpses bobbed lifelessly in the waves, while vultures circled above, waiting for their midday feast.
Atlas scanned the surroundings with Observation Haki again, and no survivors. No mercy for evil.
—
The journey back was quiet.
After a full day of sailing, Atlas returned to G-8 Fortress early the next morning, greeted by a cool breeze and the scent of salt in the air.
He headed straight for the strategy office to report the details of his mission to Major Drake, then made a beeline for the mess hall—he was sick of eating rations for two days straight.
—
"What?! You took down the entire Ekrem Pirates by yourself?!"
Drake's roar echoed through the office. He'd practically been preparing to write Atlas's death report.
He'd even spent yesterday cursing how reckless everyone had become, especially since even Vice Admiral Jonathan hadn't objected to the mission.
Yet here Atlas was, alive and well—and with a report that sounded like a miracle.
"C'mon, don't make such a fuss," Atlas replied, casually picking at his ear.
"Just a bunch of washed-up losers. That bounty was way too overrated anyway. Ekrem must've done a lot of pillaging to get it."
Drake took a deep breath, calmed down, and sat back in his chair. "Alright, walk me through your battle in detail."
At this point, he fully believed Zephyr's assessment of Atlas. Taking down a 200-million-Berry pirate—and several others—on his own?
Even if it had been a drawn-out battle, it was still incredible. As for doubting Atlas? Please.
Marine Intelligence would've confirmed it by now. No pirate crew that large just vanishes. Like they say, "Wherever someone walks, traces remain."
—
"Well," Atlas began. "I walked over, slashed once… then slashed again. That's it."
He raised his arm and mimed the slashes.
"…Huh? That's it?" Drake blinked. He'd been bracing for a long battle report, but got this? "You're kidding me…"
"…Alright. I'll go report to Vice Admiral Jonathan. You're free to go."
Drake watched Atlas leave, overflowing with thoughts but unsure where to begin venting them.
—
After leaving Drake's office, Atlas took a shower and headed to the cafeteria. It was a bit crowded—it must've been peak meal time.
As he got his food and searched for a seat, he started hearing the whispers:
"Whoa, is that the kid? He's so young…No wonder he came from the elite HQ program. Seriously terrifying!"
Thanks to his enhanced senses, Atlas could hear every word without even using Observation Haki. And none of the soldiers were trying to be subtle anyway.
After a few seconds of 'eavesdropping,' Atlas figured out what the buzz was about.
It turned out that Vice Admiral Jonathan had reported Atlas's accomplishments to the entire fortress.
The only reason Atlas hadn't realized it sooner was that he didn't care much about such things. At this point, he was already quite well-known throughout the G-8.
After enjoying a hearty meal, Atlas slipped quietly out through the side door of the mess hall.
He didn't want to be surrounded like some kind of zoo animal just because he'd taken down a famous pirate.
"Hey! Atlas! I was just looking for you. Vice Admiral Jonathan wants to see you in his office."
Atlas had barely stepped outside when he ran into Major Drake, who'd been worrying about where to find him. What a coincidence. Drake quickly flagged him down.
"Yes, sir!"
Knock knock knock—
"Come in!"
Atlas pushed open the door in response. Inside, the highest-ranking officer of the base, Vice Admiral Jonathan, was gently adjusting his beloved fishing rod.
Upon seeing Atlas enter, he set the rod aside, then laced his fingers together and rested his hands on the desk.
"Well, you live up to what Zephyr said about you. A 200 million bounty pirate, taken out just like that," Jonathan said calmly.
His tone wasn't particularly warm or cold—he was the type of Marine who seemed laid-back on the surface, but in truth, everything was under control.
He wasn't like Borsalino's lazy detachment—Jonathan's ease came from calculated composure and hidden sharpness.
What surprised many was how someone like him could be close friends with someone like Sakazuki, a known hardliner.
That contrast alone made it clear that Vice Admiral Jonathan was not someone to underestimate.
"Just luck," Atlas replied modestly. "And that guy was nothing impressive."
"No need to be humble," Jonathan waved it off. "Anyway, I've got a new mission for you."
Come on—no matter how "weak" the target might seem, a 200 million bounty is still no joke.
Especially someone who'd made it back from the New World, even as a beaten dog.
"What's the mission?" Atlas's demeanor immediately turned serious.
"Lately, a few pirate crews have been loitering around Alabasta, and we'd like you to check it out."
"Alabasta? That's not under G-8's jurisdiction, is it?" Atlas raised an eyebrow.
"Well, no. But the branch in charge of that area sent us a request for reinforcements. I can't exactly turn a blind eye."
"…Besides," Jonathan added, his eyes glinting with subtle meaning, though his face remained unreadable, "this might involve one of the Seven Warlords."
"The Seven Warlords? That sand crocodile?" Atlas looked surprised.
The moment Alabasta was mentioned, the first name that came to his mind was Crocodile. He hadn't expected that guy to already be after Pluton.
"Oh? You figured it out?" Jonathan chuckled faintly.
"Ever since Whitebeard taught him a lesson, that man's been keeping a low profile. I never thought the next time we'd hear his name would be tied to Alabasta."
"We don't yet know what he's plotting. Your mission is to eliminate those pirate crews—and while you're there, see what Crocodile's up to."
"Yes, sir! I'll complete the mission without fail!"
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