For the inhabitants of this island, summer carried the stench of decay on every breeze.
Though food became more plentiful, so too did the raids. Eventually, fights would break out among the raiders themselves. The battles left corpses scattered across the fields, which only invited more looting to claim what the dead had left behind.
At least when they took food, there was some pretense of reason. In the worst times, they would conscript young men as soldiers or seize young women and children under the guise of "taxation."
Occasionally, refugees would flee here from other villages, but their stories were always the same: food stolen, laborers and daughters taken, leaving behind only the wounded, the sick, and the elderly—those who could no longer even tend the fields.
Sooner or later, we would all die alongside this rotting village.
Has anyone even touched the soil recently? I suppose there's no such luxury anymore...
As I wallowed in my usual despair, a strange group arrived.
They wore black suits marked with three claw scratches and a sideways cat emblem on their backs and chests, each garment styled slightly differently. The group consisted of young people—some powerfully built, others strikingly beautiful, and a few with appearances I'd never seen before.
They all looked like the sort who would be prime targets for raiders.
"Captain, the well seems to have dried up completely. If we're going to establish a production base here, we'll need to dig it out again..."
"Mm, and the fields are in ruins. Seeds have been planted, but they're choked with weeds. At this rate, the crops won't just wither—they might become diseased."
"Mihawk, is that really your first observation? Perhaps you should consider switching from swordsman to farmer."
"...Hmph."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean? Hey!"
"Listen here," I called out to them, "I don't know where you're from, but you're clearly outsiders. You'd better leave immediately."
"And why's that?" asked a young girl—still in her teens but already showing the bloom of womanhood—with a hint of arrogance in her voice.
"This island is a hellscape where pirate gangs tear each other apart. If a pretty girl like you gets caught by them, you'll suffer a fate worse than death. I'm not trying to be cruel, but you should flee while you can."
The girl's expression didn't change. Instead of responding to me, she turned to a boy about her age rather than the older men in the group.
"Master, this place isn't as promising as we thought. There's hardly anyone here who could serve as soldiers, let alone laborers."
The boy she called "Master" wore glasses and had long hair loosely tied back. He carried himself like someone from a well-bred family. He shook his head at the girl's assessment.
"The bandits probably took them as forced labor. If they keep fighting over the same resources, eventually there'll be nothing left to steal. Food is one thing, but the competition for workers..."
"Fufufu, so it's proceeding exactly as planned."
A young girl—young enough that she should still be clinging to her parents—spoke with an unsettling air of authority. She pointed toward the mountains with her small, closed parasol, indicating where the raiders had their hideout.
"Kuro, it looks like they've already spotted us. Armed figures are heading this way from the mountains."
"Any non-combatants in the area?"
"None. I saw some people working the mountain fields earlier, so it might be them."
"Is there risk of civilian casualties? If not, let's deal with the ones targeting us first. Daz, use this as a temporary base. While we handle them, set up camp—"
Those demons are coming this way again.
The moment I heard that, ice ran down my spine.
Meanwhile, the young people before us began calmly unpacking their belongings, showing no signs of tension. One of them—an older man in the group—drew his sword from his waist.
In the next instant, with an incredible roar that split the air itself, a massive presence appeared in the direction the girl had been pointing with her parasol.
"Mihoooook!"
Everyone in the group rushed toward the swordsman, shouting in unison.
"Hey! Why did you suddenly attack?!"
"If we're supposed to be working together, you should have asked the captain or one of the officers for permission first!"
"You bastard, you scared the hell out of me!"
"Why is Mihawk always like this?!"
"If you're going to cut someone down, at least give us a heads-up!!"
Even among the group, there were several who seemed unusually respectful despite their youth, and they all berated the swordsman.
The man called Mihawk looked puzzled for a moment, then murmured, "Ah."
"I cut them down."
"Say it before you do it!!"
The bespectacled boy scratched his head vigorously before barking orders to those around him.
"Perona, what's the enemy situation?!"
"They're sliced to ribbons! The survivors don't even know what hit them! Of course they don't!"
"How many survivors?"
"Umm... four. One of them was outside the attack range and unharmed."
"Understood. Use your ghosts to neutralize them. Second ship crew, capture the survivors and extract information. Personal guard, establish a base while gathering intelligence from both the enemy and the residents. Not just about their hideout, but other villages as well."
The swordsman, seemingly dissatisfied that any had survived, tightened his grip on his sword, but the beautiful girl from earlier delivered a sharp kick to his side.
"What was that for...?"
The old woman from the neighboring house, who had been watching in terror, cautiously spoke up.
"Who... who are you people?"
In response to her question, the young man with glasses smiled slightly and glanced at a female swordswoman standing beside him. She signaled to the others, who brought over long poles resembling flagstaffs.
"Ah, forgive me. I apologize for the delayed introduction... We are pirates."
The unusually long pole turned out to be exactly that—a flagstaff.
The unit appeared to be composed primarily of women, with a large flag tied to the pole's end. It looked like a pirate flag, but it didn't inspire the usual dread.
The clothing worn by the non-swordsmen bore the same three claw marks and cat emblem on chest and back.
"From this day forward, we are the pirates who will rule over you."
"Our name is Black Cat."
"Please remember us."
This occurred one week before news reached the outside world that a pirate crew had seized an entire kingdom.
For the Black Cat Pirates, it was merely the opening act of what wouldn't even qualify as a proper skirmish.
And this is the story of villagers who had long feared the very word "pirate," but who, upon the return of their sons, would etch the name "Black Cat" deep into their hearts.
***
The operation to conquer the Kingdom of Mopchi—supposedly our biggest undertaking yet—ended surprisingly smoothly.
But now that it's over, I have to engage in intense sword practice with Mihawk every other day for at least three hours before I can get any actual work done. What's up with that?
And when he's not fighting with me, he's either sparring with Amis and the others all day or working in the fields the next. The man's energy is boundless... I'm starting to worry he'll suggest we train for five hours daily soon.
Though I'll admit, thanks to him, I can now use Armament Haki with clarity.
Between planning for retaliatory strikes from those mafia-types, organizing patrols, disseminating information, securing supplies, comforting the citizens, and allocating labor... I made this plan myself, but please, someone help me... please help me...
"Robin, how's food production progressing?"
"According to Mihawk, we've finished planting summer crop seeds in all available fields. Daz has been helping with field restoration as well, correct?"
"Right. Additionally, like the island we recently conquered, we're making progress restoring wells damaged during the civil war. Combined with the supplies we brought, we shouldn't see too many people starving to death in the short term."
"But we can't bring that number down to zero, can we?"
"We'll have to accept some losses. If we ensure proper burials, it might improve our public image somewhat."
(Daz has started thinking along those lines too... Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Hmm...)
In a room within the former royal palace, its outer walls half-collapsed—I had summoned Daz and Robin to hear status reports.
The throne was still intact, and someone had asked if Hancock wouldn't sit on it, but doing so would be far too embarrassing.
"Well, it's manageable. Still, the mafia's weakness was unexpected... I had anticipated at least one or two Devil Fruit users."
They had firearms, but they were just strength in numbers, a ragtag bunch that could be easily handled even by our regular forces from the second ship onward, never mind the personal guard.
In the end, they tried to escape with their valuables, so we intercepted them and wiped them out with concentrated fire.
"I suspect they either joined another family or were bought out. Those with abilities are valuable commodities."
"Really?"
"The island-bound folk find Devil Fruit users unsettling, but the mafia understands their true worth."
"Daz, did you ever get approached by them?"
"Once, yes."
The so-called royal family had been entirely eliminated, leaving only women and children.
Essentially, this country had been divided among three factions: an anti-mafia resistance army, the former royal army under mafia control, and a band of pirates who had turned to plundering for survival.
The royal family's children had been imprisoned in this palace's dungeons by the mafia, whether to use as scapegoats if things went wrong, or to sell to non-member nations as "legitimate royalty" when the opportunity arose, who could say?
"So Captain, what's our next move?"
"We'll discuss the details at tonight's meeting with the royal family, but for now, we focus on intelligence gathering. We need to understand how the royal family is perceived in this region."
After that, we'll need to secure food and fuel supplies and build up our stockpiles. We must stabilize the situation as much as possible before winter, eliminate external threats like rival pirates, and get production back on track by spring. Only then will we finally be able to breathe easy.
First priority: ensuring this place has sufficient production capacity.
"Daz, order all ships currently on patrol duty—including the confiscated vessels—to deploy fishing nets."
"You're planning to use them as both patrol ships and fishing boats? That's innovative."
"It won't be highly effective, but every bit helps."
"We have to prevent as many people from starving as possible..."
***
"Haaaaaah!!"
After completing his patrol of the royal palace and the old capital, Amis—now captain of the royal guard—was practicing swordwork at the former royal palace's training grounds.
His opponent was Mihawk, the strongest swordsman the Black Cat Pirates had ever encountered, known as the "Marine Hunter."
This was the man who, alongside Second-in-Command Daz Bonez, had single-handedly defeated the forces of seven ships during the recent mafia retaliation.
"Good. The other members of the personal guard are improving at an astounding rate, but you're advancing the fastest among them."
Mihawk caught Amis's downward strike, twisted it around his own blade to deflect it, but Amis pulled his sword free and shifted into a thrusting stance.
"Alright, that's enough for today."
"What? Already? I still have energy left."
"That's precisely why. If we were back on our home island, I'd continue until exhaustion, but this place is still hostile territory—newly conquered. Especially someone like you, who needs to give orders to subordinates like Daz Bonez, can't afford to be worn down."
When Mihawk said this, Amis puffed out his cheeks slightly.
"Then couldn't you show the same consideration for our captain? He'll be handling political affairs from now on."
"That's exactly why I don't."
Mihawk sheathed his sword and began wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
"Kuro's self-taught training has developed his fighting instincts in a warped direction. He leaped into advanced techniques without mastering the fundamentals..."
"You mean the technique you put into your sword?"
"Precisely."
The sword Mihawk currently wielded was a legendary blade called "Yoru," which had been among the mafia's trade goods during his first raid with the Black Cat Pirates.
His original sword had been mass-produced, so when Kuro handed him this one, saying "Use this to replace your broken blade," he was overjoyed.
"Haki is the foundation for fighting higher-tier opponents—it becomes the ultimate technique. By wrapping Haki around your fists or weapons, their power skyrockets, allowing you to land effective blows even against such enemies."
"Therefore, coating your weapon in Haki is an absolute requirement when facing Navy Headquarters officers or the Four Emperors. Having your sword shattered is one thing, but even a nicked blade is a swordsman's shame..."
"Well... I was defeated by that man."
Mihawk keeps that sword—which contains his very soul, safely stored in his private quarters.
For him, that blade represents his first defeat after being hailed as a master swordsman, a pledge to grow stronger, and a memento of his encounter with 'Black Cat.'
"Kuro will become stronger. Once he can wield Haki at will, he'll be able to refine the Haki I've infused into that sword."
"Yes, we all believe that."
"But he rushes into making enemies. If the Navy discovers he's been building up his forces, they'll dispatch a substantial fleet against him."
"Yes..."
Amis gripped the sword he'd carried ever since being freed from that slave ship.
"The captain seems to think we need to build a major force as quickly as possible."
"I've heard as much. Though he didn't elaborate on the details..."
Mihawk turned his gaze toward the palace.
The luxurious quarters don't suit his taste, so he's using a simple room as temporary headquarters. She's probably there as well.
"Nico Robin. I'd heard rumors about the Buster Call on Ohara, but I didn't realize the government feared her to that extent..."
"Even during the naval battle at the regional headquarters before you arrived, I got the impression they were placing tremendous importance on capturing her."
"If only I had known that at the time..."
Amis glared at Mihawk, wondering if he regretted not participating, but he simply shrugged it off.
"In any case, it's almost certain we'll have to fight at least one major battle against the Navy. From now on, Kuro will be busy gathering intelligence and dealing with non-member nations. If we can thoroughly ingrain the fundamentals of Haki into his body while we still have time, he'll reach a level where he won't be easily stopped."
Amis recalled the one-on-one battle between the man before her and their captain.
Even Mihawk couldn't fully track those lightning-fast consecutive attacks.
If those were combined with even greater destructive power... How many people could possibly stand against such force?
"Don't let your guard down, Captain of the Guard."
As if reading Amis's thoughts, Mihawk fixed his eagle-like gaze directly on him.
"There are always those above you. Even I, as I am now, still have countless stronger opponents lurking in these seas."
"To be honest, I can't quite grasp that. To me, you're already a being beyond my reach."
"You will encounter them. Not only enemies of pure strength, but adversaries beyond your imagination."
"Don't let your guard down, Amis. The sea is vast, the world is wide, and everything is always more distant than it appears. Those who forget that... will perish."
***
"What a troublesome request to receive."
In a specialized vessel, a tall man wearing a helmet-like mask drinks wine while studying a map.
"If it were eastward, it would simply be a matter of crossing one wall, but westward requires extensive maneuvering... If the reward weren't so substantial, I would have declined."
The client was a member nation alliance of the West Blue, a coalition of multiple countries.
They were either nations that had instigated proxy wars in non-member territories or those that had profited from such conflicts.
The request: eliminate a certain pirate and seize the island under his control.
Despite the target being a non-member nation, the nature of their activities suggested they had been secretly collaborating with the mafia to exploit the region. However, they were driven out, and when they sent a disguised military force to reclaim the territory, it was completely annihilated. As a result, the request reached the man known as the "War Merchant."
"Earning over a billion berries as a child, and possessing the strength to match, I must give credit where it's due..."
The map the man studied depicted a specific region of the West Blue, accurately charting a non-member nation and its surrounding areas.
"Well, fine. If we consider it a practical examination for our first batch of soldiers, there may be gains beyond mere payment."
Beside the map lay four wanted posters depicting the young pirate leading the target crew and his subordinates.
"'Kuro of the Hundred Plans.' It's regrettable to cut short such potential, but..."
"You shall become nourishment for Germa's long-cherished ambition."
***
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