—Third Person POV—
The humid air inside Arlong Park clung to everything like a second skin, thick with the stench of fish and saltwater.
Concrete walls stretched toward the vaulted ceiling, their surfaces slick with moisture that never quite dried. Somewhere in the distance, water lapped against stone with the rhythm of a slow heartbeat.
Arlong dominated the space from his throne-like chair. His saw-nose jutted forward like a weapon even in repose, serrated teeth gleaming in the light of the almost afternoon.
Each breath through his gills created a subtle whistling sound that seemed to echo off the walls, a constant reminder of what he was—predator, not prey.
The stack of cash made a solid thump as it hit the table, followed by the softer whisper of folded paper. Arlong's massive hand pushed both items forward with deliberate slowness, the gesture carrying the weight of inevitability.
"This is the pay for this month." His voice rumbled from deep in his chest, each word carefully measured. "And this is the map."
The paper crinkled under the humid air, its edges already beginning to curl. Arlong's dark eyes fixed on the figure across from him.
"I hope this matter will be concluded swiftly."
"Chi Chi Chi Chi!" Captain Nezumi's laugh scraped across the silence like fingernails on glass, a high-pitched squeak that belonged more to a rodent than a man.
His ratlike features twisted into what might have been gratitude on a more honest face, whiskers like a mustache twitching as he reached for the offerings with hands that never quite stopped shaking.
"You have my deepest appreciation, Arlong-kun." The honorific dripped from his tongue like poisoned honey. "I assure you, the good news you seek will reach your ears very soon indeed."
His fingers closed around the money with practiced greed, the bills disappearing into his coat faster than a conjurer's trick.
The map followed, tucked away with the same reverent care a priest might show sacred texts. Each movement spoke of long practice, of corruption so deeply embedded it had become second nature.
Nezumi pushed back from the table, chair legs scraping against wet stone. "Regrettably, I cannot linger here much longer. Duty calls—I must continue my patrol."
The word 'duty' hung in the air like a bad joke, its irony so thick it could be cut with a blade.
His footsteps echoed as he scurried toward the exit, each step was like a retreat from the monster he'd chosen to ally with. The sound faded gradually, swallowed by the vastness of Arlong Park until only the whisper of water remained.
Gyaro emerged from the shadows like a blade sliding from its sheath. Tall even by fishman standards, his shark heritage showed in the predatory grace of his movement, the way he seemed to glide rather than walk.
The jewels and rubies on the ornate handle of the strange sword at his waist caught the light, its unusual design speaking of craftsmanship that is rarely ever seen in this world.
"Disgusting as always." He spat the words with genuine revulsion, his gaze tracking Nezumi's retreat. "That rat leaves a stench worse than rotting kelp."
"Shahahaha!" Arlong's laugh was a sound like grinding coral, rough and dangerous. "Yet he serves his purpose admirably."
"Which brings me to wonder—" Gyaro turned back to his captain, arms crossed over his broad chest.
"Why this obsession with that girl? Why ask a filth like Nezumi for what could have amounted to a favor, and even giving such a huge sum of money for no purpose, Arlong-san?"
The question hung between them, heavy with implication. Around them, the other fishmen had grown still, sensing the shift in their leader's mood the way sea creatures sensed an approaching storm.
Arlong leaned back in his chair, the motion causing it to creak ominously under his bulk. His saw-nose tilted upward, as if he were savoring some invisible aroma that only he could detect.
"Nami represents a valuable asset to our operations." His voice carried the tone of a lecturer explaining basic arithmetic to a slow student. "But beyond mere utility—" Here his smile widened, revealing rows of teeth like broken glass. "Every man requires a hobby, wouldn't you agree, Gyaro?"
The shark fishman's hand unconsciously moved to rest on his sword's hilt, fingers tracing the well-crafted grip with unconscious familiarity.
"Just as you find pleasure swinging that blade of yours, all of those endless hours of training and maintaining—" Arlong's eyes gleamed with something that might have been fondness, if fondness could cut and bleed. "I derive satisfaction from making that girl's existence as miserable as possible."
The words dropped into the silence like stones into deep water, creating ripples of understanding among the listening crew. Some nodded with approval, others simply accepted it as another facet of their captain's nature. Only Gyaro maintained his skeptical expression.
He shrugged, a gesture that somehow managed to convey both acceptance and dismissal. "Well, speaking of personal matters, would it be acceptable for my team and me to take leave? We'd like to return to Fishman Island for a time."
Arlong's brow furrowed, genuine confusion replacing his earlier satisfaction. "Didn't you just return from leave recently?"
"Recently?" Gyaro's laugh held no humor, only the weariness of someone who'd watched too many sunrises blend into sunsets.
"Arlong-san, that was nearly a year and a half ago. We're all beginning to feel the pull of home—the need to see familiar faces, to breathe water that doesn't taste of human filth."
Time stretched between them as Arlong processed this information. The revelation seemed to physically impact him, his massive frame shifting as if the weight of passing months had suddenly settled on his shoulders.
"Has it truly been so long?" The question escaped him almost as a whisper, more to himself than to Gyaro.
"Time moves differently when you're focused on a goal," Gyaro offered, though his tone suggested this was meant as an explanation rather than an excuse. "But yes, it has been that long."
Arlong nodded slowly, his mind clearly working through implications and logistics. "Very well. When would you depart?"
"A week from today, if that's acceptable."
"Granted." The word came with finality, closing the matter. "Enjoy your reunion with old friends."
Gyaro's face brightened for the first time since the conversation began. "Then I'll inform the boys immediately. They'll be thrilled to hear it."
He turned and strode deeper into Arlong Park, his steps lighter now. His voice could be heard echoing from the inner chambers, announcing the good news to eager ears.
The silence that followed was different from before—less tense, more expectant. It was the quiet of a held breath, of a moment balanced on the edge of change.
Footsteps approached from the entrance, lighter than Nezumi's scurrying retreat, more purposeful than Gyaro's earlier prowling.
Nami appeared in the doorway like a figure stepping from shadow into light. Her orange hair caught the illumination that filled the Arlong Park, creating a brief halo effect that disappeared as she moved fully into the shade of the building.
Her face maintained its usual mask of careful neutrality, but something in her posture—the slight lift of her shoulders, the quicker pace of her breathing—spoke of excitement barely contained.
Arlong's demeanor shifted like a predator scenting prey, his earlier contemplative mood evaporating. His smile returned, wider and more terrible than before, all sharp edges and false warmth.
"Oh, look who is back, my dear cartographer!" His voice boomed across the hall, each word carefully crafted to sound welcoming while carrying undertones that scraped against the soul.
"That was quite a long trip...Please tell me you've had a profitable expedition."
Nami's reply came without hesitation, though her hands remained on her bag's arm—whether to hide their trembling or some precious cargo, it was impossible to tell.
"I did well, yes." Her voice carried the steady tone of someone reciting practiced lines.
"...but it was strangely quite heart-breaking this time." Emotion seeped from her voice a little, something she couldn't control.
"Shahahaha! Since when did you get so sentimental? Betraying people is your specialty, isn't it?" Arlong asked his a voice that was half amused and half gloating.
"Oh, is that so? Well, anyway, I have gathered enough money this time, enough that I should finally be ready to make the payment needed to purchase Cocoyasi Village."
For just an instant—less than a heartbeat, faster than thought—something predatory and cruel flashed through Arlong's dark eyes.
It was there and gone so quickly that only someone watching for it might have caught a glimpse of the monster lurking beneath his jovial exterior.
When he spoke again, his voice bubbled with manufactured enthusiasm, every syllable dripping with false celebration.
"Wonderful news! Absolutely wonderful!" He clapped his massive hands together, the sound echoing like gunshots in the enclosed space. "Do you have the full amount with you now?"
The question hung in the air like a trap waiting to be sprung. Around them, the other fishmen had begun to take notice, drawn by their captain's elevated mood and the familiar dynamic playing out before them.
"Not with me, no." Nami's response came carefully measured, each word weighed and considered. "But I will have it soon."
Arlong's smile stretched impossibly wider, revealing more of those razor-sharp teeth. His laugh when it came was the sound of breaking waves against jagged rocks, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
"Shahahah! The promise of money is always music to my ears!" He rose from his chair, his full height making him tower over everything in the base's yard like a monument to barely controlled violence. "I await this moment with the greatest of expectations!"
He turned toward his assembled crew, arms spread wide in a gesture of magnanimous inclusion. "My brothers! Today we celebrate! Today we honor our dear Nami's achievement!"
The response was immediate and thunderous. Fishmen emerged from the water-filled areas of the park, their powerful voices joining in a chorus of approval that shook the very foundations of the building.
Cheers echoed from every corner, a cacophony of genuine enthusiasm from creatures who'd learned to take their pleasures where they found them.
But not every voice joined the celebration. In the shadows cast by one of the buildings, Gyaro stood watching the spectacle with undisguised revulsion. His scarred features twisted into an expression of contempt so pure it could have cut glass.
"That Fucking Coward…"
—Hachiman POV—
I was sitting on a chair, leaning the back against the one and only cabin of our small ship, while drinking my well-deserved MAXX Coffee and reading the Grand Line log I got from the Baratie owner.
The familiar sweet taste grounded me in this surreal reality where somehow, impossibly, I had access to my favorite canned coffee in a world of pirates and devil fruits.
'Thank God, or whoever got me here, that I still had that privilege…and reading this thing made me realize that I needed it—both the Log and the Coffee.'
The log felt heavy in my hands—not just physically, but with the weight of all the terrible truths it contained.
Each page revealed another layer of casual death and destruction, another reason why what I'd been calling my…"plan" was actually just elaborate suicide with extra steps.
After reading the page I was reading again, I couldn't help but sigh inside, lamenting that my stupid idea was indeed stupid.
'Here I was, the so-called "Sorcerer" of the East Blue, and I was still the same idiot who thought he could conquer an entire ocean with a cool sword and a magic compass.'
The conversation happening near the ship's railing drifted over to me, and I found myself listening with half an ear while pretending to read.
"Are you seriously planning to go to the Grand Line with only 5 people? You'll regret it if you keep underestimating the seas like that," Sanji said, his voice carrying that particular tone of someone trying to inject reality into a conversation with Luffy.
'Good luck with that, Cook-kun.'
"I can always recruit more people in the Grand Line!" Luffy said with that insufferable optimism of his. "Besides, it's supposed to be Paradise, right?"
'Paradise?!' I nearly choked on my coffee.
'Of course, he'd latch onto that word without bothering to understand the context. It's like calling a nuclear wasteland a "sunny vacation spot" because technically the radiation makes everything glow.'
"What are you talking about?" Sanji asked, looking genuinely confused.
"The old man at Baratie told me! The place we're heading to is called Paradise!" Luffy grinned widely, as if this settled everything.
The casual way he says it makes my eyes twitch. Here's someone about to sail into a maritime nightmare, and he's treating it like a weekend trip to the beach.
"You'll regret it if you keep taking everything at face value like that," I said without looking up from the log. "You have no idea why it's called Paradise, the origin of that name is not a nice thing at all."
When they heard me, everyone turned their attention to me.
'Great. Nothing I enjoy more than being the center of attention, especially when I'm about to deliver news that will probably send everyone into a panic.'
"He's right, Luffy-aniki," Yusako chimed in, nodding sagely. "You're taking the Grand Line too lightly."
At least someone's taking this seriously. Though from the look on his face, he probably doesn't actually understand the full scope of what we're dealing with either.
"What do you mean?" both Sanji and Luffy asked almost simultaneously.
Faced with that question, Yusako turned to me with an exaggerated gesture, pointing dramatically. "Dead-Eye-aniki, why don't you explain it to them?"
'Who is Dead-Eye?! And I am not your Aniki?! If you have no idea what you are talking about, then shut up!'
I sighed audibly, closing the log with a soft thud. "You're all idiots," I muttered, then looked up at their expectant faces. 'Because that's what I am now, apparently—the designated bearer of bad news.'
"Do you at least know the most basic fact about the Grand Line?" I asked, taking another sip of my coffee. "That it's a sea where sailing is extremely difficult?"
They all nodded, even Luffy, though his nod was more enthusiastic than understanding.
"Good," I continued. "At least you're not completely ignorant."
I pointed upward at the deceptively peaceful sky. "The main reason it's so difficult is that the weather changes incredibly fast and unpredictably. Even the most experienced navigators end up pulling their hair out in frustration and despair." I paused for effect.
"From sunny weather, to a windy one, to a full-blown storm, to heavy snow, to even something dangerous like an acid rain, all in the span of a few hours, the currents change very fast too. It's the primary reason most ships sink in the Grand Line."
The irony isn't lost on me that I'm giving warnings about the dangers of the Grand Line while planning to go there myself.
Everyone who had heard me gaped in horror…well, not exactly everyone…
"That sounds like a really fun place!" Luffy exclaimed, actually shivering with excitement as he raised both arms in the air.
'Of course. Of course he's excited.' I felt that familiar headache in my head. 'Tell a normal person that a place is dangerous and unpredictable, and they'd start making backup plans. Tell Luffy the same thing, and he starts planning a party.'
The rest of us—Sanji, Yusako, Delgado, and I—all shared a look of mutual apprehension. It was probably the first time we'd all been in complete agreement about anything.
"Let's... ignore this guy for a moment," Sanji said, running a hand through his hair. "Why is it called Paradise if it's so dangerous?"
'Smart question from the cook. Though I suspect he's not going to like the answer any more than I like giving it.'
"Because," I said, setting down my coffee can with more force than necessary, "sailing in the Grand Line gets progressively harder the further you go." I paused for effect, then continued.
"The later parts are a complete hellish nightmare where you can't even sail without specialized ships, or you'll be crushed by the hellish currents before the diabolical weather even gets a chance to kill you."
The words felt heavy as I spoke them, each syllable adding to the growing weight of realization settling over our group.
"Compared to that nightmare, the harshness of the first half seems like paradise. Hence the name." I gestured vaguely at the ocean around us like it would mean anything. "It's not actually paradise—it's just the least terrible part of a progressively more terrible journey."
'The naming convention is almost sadistically clever, really. Call the deadly part "Paradise" so that when people realize how bad it is, they're too terrified to imagine what comes next.'
I watched as all four faces around me turned distinctly pale. Even Luffy's expression shifted from excitement to something approaching shock, his mouth hanging open.
'There it was. The moment when reality crashes into optimism like a brick wall meeting a soap bubble.'
It was exactly this piece of information that confirmed that my stupid plan was indeed stupid.
'And there it is,' I thought grimly, 'the moment of crushing self-awareness I've been dreading. All this time, I've been clinging to the hope that maybe I'd found a clever shortcut home.'
My initial stupid plan was like this: I would use the rising currents of the reverse mountain to climb it up, then the moment I was up, I would abandon the current and jump directly to the end of the New World with a glider.
After reaching the New World, I will search for the One Piece there slowly under the radar, pretending to be a civilian or an adventurer.
'A glider. I was going to use a glider to enter what's essentially a magical ocean of death. It's like planning to swim across a volcanic crater because you have really good swimming goggles.'
I knew it was a stupid plan from the start, but I had hopes that with the Barbossa Sword plus the Compass, sailing would be much easier.
And if I have enough preparations and lifelines, I would make it even if it were hard and took a lot of time.
'The ideal of having magical items gave me a false sense of security. Just because I have some mystical gear doesn't mean I can suddenly overcome the fundamental laws of this nightmare ocean.'
But looks like it was even more suicidal than I thought, and if I truly did that, I won't even survive a week there.
'A week is probably generous. Knowing my luck, I'd manage to get myself killed in some spectacularly stupid way within the first few hours, like flying directly into a storm or something.'
My luck has never been particularly good under the best of circumstances, and these are decidedly not the best circumstances.
The New World as a whole was even more ridiculous than the Paradise; it even required different navigational equipment. And the last part of the New World is even more ridiculously harsh, so much so that you need to prepare a whole voyage to even reach an island there.
'Different navigational equipment. Because, of course, it does. Why would there be any consistency in this world's approach to making life difficult?'
All of that, and I am not considering the other as much dangerous elements, like the Yonko, the Pirate Warlords, the strong but unaffiliated pirates, and of course, the Marines and the World Government.
'Right, because the weather and navigation weren't enough of a challenge. Let's throw in some of the most powerful individuals in the world, plus a massive military organization, just to make things interesting.'
All in all, my…'brilliant'…plan is nothing more than an elaborate method of self-destruction. If I want to enter the New World, I will need a few things.
'At least my brain was still capable of rational thought, even if it had taken a detailed explanation of why I was an idiot to activate it.'
Logical thinking was one of my few actual talents, after all. I just needed to apply it properly instead of letting desperation and homesickness cloud my judgment.
'First, I will need an actual experience with currents of the Grand Line.'
So, an adaptation period, long if needed, in the Paradise is a must.
'Experience. The thing that couldn't be bought, borrowed, or stolen. I'd have to earn it the hard way, one near-death experience at a time. Because apparently, my life hadn't been exciting enough.'
The thought of spending months or even years in Paradise wasn't exactly appealing, but it was better than the alternative of becoming a cautionary tale.
'Second, I will need as much information about the nature, topography, and even history of the Grand Line if needed.'
This Logbook is helpful, but still a bit limited and outdated. I will need more sources of knowledge.
Information was power, especially in a world where ignorance could literally kill you. The logbook I held was a good start, but it was like trying to navigate a minefield with a tourist map. I need to find libraries, archives, and some source of information that I could rely on if I wanted to make rushed research about something.
'Third, I need a worthy vessel, something that can handle the madness of the New World.'
The ship. That was probably the most crucial element of all. My current vessel was adequate for the East Blue, but it would be kindling in the Grand Line's storms.
I could have a skilled shipwright make one for me, moreover, as insurance, there is one ship I remember from the manga that could be very useful.
The ship I was thinking of... it was a long shot, but if I could somehow acquire it, half my problems would be solved. The challenge would be getting to it without dying in the process.
'But for that, I will need the Barbossa sword.'
Of course. Everything came back to that cursed blade.
'Fourth, I will need the intelligence and the maps of power and influence of the Grand Line in general and the New World specifically.'
That way, I will know which toes I will be stepping on during my journey. Politics. Even in a world of pirates and adventure, it all came down to politics in the end.
Who controlled what territory, who was allied with whom, who had grudges against whom—all of it mattered when you were trying to steal the biggest treasure of all from under the noses of literally dragons and monsters.
'Fifth…I need to get stronger…'
No matter how much insurance you have, in this dog-eat-dog world, only might makes right. If you are not strong enough, no matter how prepared you are, you can't strive for long…
'But, still, I am thinking of entering the Grand Line alone, something I am not sure I want to do right now.'
Alone. The word hung in my mental space like a death sentence. I'd always been alone, had always preferred it that way.
People were complicated, unpredictable, and ultimately disappointing. But the Grand Line... it was designed to kill puny lone travelers.
The smart thing would be to find a crew, people I could trust to watch my back while I watched theirs. But trust was a luxury I'd never been able to afford, and the idea of depending on others for my survival made my skin crawl.
What if they betrayed me? What if they slowed me down? What if they died because of my decisions?
'What if I actually started to care about them…?'
I was half lost in my thoughts when Luffy voiced his own thoughts aloud.
"Then that's even more reason to get a navigator!" Luffy suddenly declared, his momentary shock apparently forgotten. "We need to get Nami back as soon as possible!"
'Only someone like him would find a way to spin a catastrophic revelation into another reason for optimism.'
The casual way he included me in his "we" didn't escape my notice either.
"There is no 'we,'" I said sharply, perhaps more sharply than necessary. "I'm not part of your crew. I'm only traveling with you for my own purposes."
'Just because I'm considering the idea of a company, and that I'm traveling in the same direction as you people, doesn't mean I'm signing up for their particular brand of optimistic suicide.'
"Eh? But you're here, aren't you?" Luffy tilted his head with that infuriating innocent expression.
"That doesn't make me part of your crew," I replied flatly.
"But you just helped us understand the Grand Line better!" he protested.
"I was correcting dangerous misinformation. There's a difference."
'Though even as I say it, I wonder if the distinction really matters. Whether I'm officially part of their crew or just a passenger, I'm still on the same ship, heading toward the same dangerous destination, and properly going to do the same stupid thing as them.'
Sanji lit a cigarette while asking. "In any case. Let's eat. Do you want something specific?"
'Oi! Don't ask this question while lighting a cigarette! What kind of hygiene code are you following?!'
"Meat on a bone!" Luffy demanded.
"Stir-fried bean sprouts!" Yusako chimed in, too.
"Oh, a Carbonara Spaghetti with extra meat!" Delgado didn't stop himself and made a request.
"Okay, leave it to me! And you, Hikigaya, do you want anything specific?"
Seeing everyone changing the mood and expecting a meal, I couldn't help but do the same while sighing.
"Then, anything with rice. The rest is up to the chef."
…
A/N: About the two Devil Fruits that were exchanged for the Dimensional Bag
The First is the Togu Togu no Mi (Polish Polish no Mi). A DF that gives its user the ability to clean, polish, and even fix, to some extent, anything that the user touches. It can be very useful to craftsmen.
The Second is the Hou Hou no Mi (Cannon Cannon no Mi). A DF that gives its user the ability to become a living Cannon. They generate their own ammo or can swallow anything in their stomach and launch it as a projectile from their mouth or by morphing their hands and limps into cannons. The user of this DF can also condense air as an ammo like Sunny's Gaon Cannon.
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