On an island in the Grand Line, Hawkeye Mihawk stepped ashore with a casual stride, as if merely passing through.
The man he'd sent to deliver a report was likely arriving at his destination by now. Unhurried, Mihawk ventured inland, where the humid air clung to his skin. There, beneath the shade of towering trees, he spotted them—a pirate crew radiating an unmistakable aura of dominance.
"Well, well, Hawkeye," a voice called out. "A rare visitor. I'm in a foul mood, but… here for a fight?"
"Hmph. I've no interest in settling scores with a one-armed man," Mihawk replied coolly.
The speaker was a red-haired man, his left arm gone, concealed beneath a black cloak. Though his appearance had changed since their legendary duels, his overwhelming presence remained undiminished. His strength, it seemed, hadn't waned.
Mihawk, unfazed by the palpable intimidation, maintained his stoic composure. From his coat, he produced a newspaper and held it aloft in his right hand.
"To find you on a backwater island like this," Mihawk said, "you must not have heard yet. I brought this as a courtesy. I figured you'd be interested."
"Huh? What're you on about?" the red-haired man asked.
"Read it. You'll understand," Mihawk replied.
Without closing the distance, he tossed the newspaper. It landed with a soft rustle on the ground. The red-haired man didn't move, but his vice-captain, Ben Beckman, stepped forward, picked it up, and began to read.
One glance at the front page, and Beckman's eyes sharpened. It was exactly the kind of news their crew would care about.
"Boss…" Beckman started.
"What's it say? Read it," the red-haired man urged.
"In the East Blue, a Marine colonel got thrashed by pirates," Beckman said. "Seems he was colluding with them. That's not the big deal, though. The ones who did it… Heh, brings back memories. The kid wearing your hat, grinning wide."
At Beckman's words, the crew stirred, their excitement palpable. The red-haired man, still looking down, remained motionless.
Mihawk reached into his coat again, pulling out a wanted poster and holding it up for them to see. "The government issued new bounties after this," he said. "Two of the faces in that paper… I recall you mentioning a certain kid from a small village. An interesting one."
"No way!" the red-haired man exclaimed, his head snapping up.
"Quite the promising brat," Mihawk said. "He's got potential, I'd wager."
The red-haired man—Shanks—broke into a broad grin. "He's here… Luffy."
The moment he'd been waiting for had arrived. His friend had set sail to fulfill their promise. The crew erupted in cheers, Shanks' voice rising above the rest, clearly in the mood for a grand celebration. Some joined in eagerly, while others exchanged exasperated glances.
"Alright, boys, we're drinking!" Shanks bellowed. "It's time for a feast!"
"You were just whining about a hangover," one crewmate shot back.
"Shut it! Who doesn't drink on a day this good? Yo, Hawkeye, you're joining us!"
Moments ago, Shanks had been laid low by overdrinking, but now he was brimming with energy, ready to kick off a revelry. His crew followed suit, their laughter echoing. Even Mihawk, dragged into the chaos, looked mildly annoyed but couldn't escape Shanks' infectious enthusiasm.
Amid the uproar, Beckman studied the newspaper's photo closely. The grown-up friend they'd known still wore that same unyielding grin—unmistakable.
His gaze shifted to the figure beside him, arm slung around Luffy's shoulder, a familiar face sparking recognition. Glancing nearby, Beckman noted the resemblance in one of their own.
"Yasopp," Beckman said. "You mentioned having a kid, right?"
"Huh? C'mon, I told you all about him—don't tell me you forgot!" Yasopp replied. "He's my treasure, you know."
"How old's your kid now?"
"About Luffy's age, so he's grown a bit by now, I'd say."
"Look at the photo," Beckman said. "Right next to Luffy. A guy who looks a lot like you."
"…What?" Yasopp's eyes widened.
Scrambling to his feet, Yasopp snatched the newspaper. Sure enough, there was a lanky teen with a long nose, his features strikingly similar to Yasopp's own.
Joy spread across his face, his grin widening by the second. It was him—no doubt about it. Yasopp's voice boomed with pride. "Boss! Everyone! Look at this—my kid's in the picture! He's out there with Luffy!"
He leaped with uncontainable glee, shouting his excitement. Shanks and the crew roared with laughter, their celebration growing even wilder. Beckman shook his head with a wry smile, watching the chaos unfold.
On another island in the Grand Line, a young man dining alone in a quiet tavern was startled awake by the sight of a newspaper in the barkeep's hands. His bad habit of dozing off mid-meal had kept him oblivious until now. Had the barkeep not roused him, he might've slept longer.
The paper boasted a bold headline and a large photo. Among the faces, one stood out—not just familiar, but unmistakable. Could it be… his little brother?
The half-shirtless man in an orange ten-gallon hat leaned forward, his voice tinged with hope. "Hey, old man, what's that article about?"
"Hm? Oh, some incident in the East Blue," the barkeep replied. "Apparently, pirates called in a reporter to spill the beans. Story goes, pirates were running an island, and the Navy was in on it. What a world, huh?"
"So, the Marines got their asses handed to them?" the young man asked.
"Yup. Some rookie crew did it. First bounty's 30 million Berries, they say. Hold on, I've got the wanted poster—"
The barkeep set the newspaper on the counter and stepped away briefly. The young man grabbed it, scanning the photo closely.
There they were—smiling teens and a fishman, with his brother unmistakably at the center. A smirk tugged at his lips as he muttered, as if speaking to the figure in the photo, "So it's you, Luffy. You finally set sail."
Seeing that same childhood grin, unchanged despite the years, brought a wave of relief. Worried for his brother, he couldn't help but mirror that boyish smile.
The barkeep returned, handing over a wanted poster. The young man set the newspaper down and held the poster up, studying it. It showed a close-up of Luffy's face, hand raised to the camera, another figure's head partially visible. The grin was infectious, brimming with joy.
"What a wild world," the young man said. "A kid like this, worth 30 million?"
"Heh, that's your brother?" the barkeep asked, chuckling. "You two swore to be pirates as kids, huh?"
"Yeah," the young man said, his voice softening. "He was a scrawny crybaby back then, but now he's found a crew and turned pirate. Can you believe it? Guess you wouldn't know, but it's a hell of a thing."
"Your brother, huh?" the barkeep repeated, stunned.
"Luffy's got a bounty now," the young man said. "Time flies, doesn't it?"
The barkeep stood frozen, speechless with shock.
At that moment, the tavern door burst open, kicked in by a group of stern-faced men glaring at the young man's back. Emblazoned there was a mark—a Jolly Roger known the world over, belonging to a legendary pirate.
The young man was none other than a high-ranking officer of that crew.
Pistols were drawn in unison, and a shout rang out as triggers were pulled. "Fire Fist Ace! You're done for!"
Gunshots echoed until the clips ran dry. The barkeep dove behind the counter, horrified, as bullets tore through the young man, splintering the wooden counter. Shards flew, and the sound of destruction filled the air until the gunfire ceased.
Yet the young man stood unscathed.
Holes riddled his back where bullets had passed through, but flames flickered within them. The fire sealed the wounds, leaving his body pristine.
The attackers, panting, realized their mistake. Ordinary weapons couldn't touch a man like him. Caught up in the thrill of spotting such a rare target, they'd acted rashly. Too late, they understood their folly.
Still holding the wanted poster, the young man shifted slightly, extending an arm toward them, fingers shaped like a gun. A fist-sized fireball shot from his fingertips, streaking through the air and slamming into the men. The searing heat and impact hurled them outside, where they writhed on the ground, screaming as flames engulfed them.
The barkeep, trembling, rose and met the young man's gaze. The mark on his back, the fiery body—it was unmistakable.
There was no mistaking the infamous figure he'd seen on a wanted poster long ago. The freckled face beamed with unbridled joy.
"He's still in the East Blue," the young man said. "Hurry up, Luffy. Climb to the top of the pirates."
The barkeep could only gape, awestruck.
In a distant stretch of the East Blue, a man stood at the railing of a sailing ship, gazing out at the sea with a newspaper in hand.
His stern expression betrayed no emotion as he studied the photo, but his demeanor hinted at something stirring within. It was a rare sight.
A young girl approached cautiously, hesitant to interrupt but too curious to stay silent. "That's unusual," she said. "Is that article really that interesting?"
"Hmph," the man replied. "They're an intriguing bunch. To think they'd sell themselves to the press like that."
"Right? They were nobodies, and now they're famous overnight," she said. "Guess that was the point, though."
"Either way, they're not the type to sit still," the man said. "They'll stir up trouble, no doubt."
The girl pulled a wanted poster from the newspaper and held it up. The same faces stared back.
"They've got bounties now," she said. "They're in the East Blue, apparently."
"Hm… Maybe I'll pay them a visit," the man said.
"Huh?" the girl blinked.
"My business here is done," he said. "A slight detour won't hurt."
"Sure, but…" she trailed off, surprised.
He glanced at the wanted poster, then out at the sea. "We'll stop by Loguetown soon. It's close to the Grand Line—a perfect spot for pirates to pass through."
"You think they'll show up?" she asked.
"If luck's on our side, we might catch a glimpse," he replied.
"Wow, that's rare," she said, grinning. "Dragon, interested in someone? That's new."
The man—Dragon—offered only a faint smile, saying nothing. The girl shrugged and turned to a young man sitting nearby, waving the wanted poster. "Hey, have you seen this? The rookie everyone's talking about."
The young man glanced up. "That guy…"
"His name's, uh…" the girl started.
"Luffy," he said softly.
The girl tilted her head, surprised. "Wait, you knew? Oh, right, his name's on the poster."
"No…" he murmured.
The name was indeed on the poster, but that wasn't why he'd said it. His voice carried a trace of confusion, and he looked down, his usual demeanor replaced by something unfamiliar.
"What's wrong?" the girl asked. "You're from the East Blue, right? Did this jog a memory?"
"I… why do I know that name?" the young man said, his voice wavering. "I don't get it, but…"
He adjusted his goggled top hat, pulling it lower over his eyes. His voice trembled with uncertainty as the girl and Dragon watched him closely, intrigued by this rare expression.
"It just… feels nostalgic," he said, voicing the raw emotion he couldn't explain.
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