Guts leaned against the Jumoi's railing, his gaze fixed on Robin. She was perched atop Richie, playfully tooting a whistle as Buggy's pirate crew bustled about, transferring their belongings from their old ship to the Jumoi.
The small vessel that once comfortably housed only Guts and Robin was no ordinary ship anymore. A brigantine at its core, it was heavily modified with Germa 66 technology and Rosward's extravagant touch.
Its hull, reinforced with a special alloy, was painted in regal blue and gold. While its multi-tiered sails could catch any breeze, its true power lay in its advanced underwater propulsion system, allowing for incredible speeds. Inside, lavish cabins and a well-stocked library offered comfort, while its unique connection to Gargar allowed for unparalleled navigation.
The Jumoi was a mobile base of operations, a symbol of Robin' ambition and Rosward' resourcefulness.
But now, it was too large for Guts to maintain alone. He had been paying locals to clean the Jumoi during their stay at Whiskey Peak, but his plans to sail towards the East Blue had him considering hiring a permanent crew to maintain the ship and its Germa-engineered engine.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a box of Bubble Blues, a brand of cigarettes he imported from Sabaody – the same brand he'd received from Guernica.
Guts took one, lit it, and inhaled deeply before offering the pack to Crocus, who had approached him.
Crocus took a cigarette, examining it before lighting it and commenting, "Well, fancy cigarettes. Didn't know becoming a Shichibukai made you so wealthy."
"It's not," Guts replied, his eyes never leaving Robin.
As Buggy's crewmates launched into a boisterous rendition of Bink's Sake, the cheerful melody resonated across the water. The sound drew the attention of Gargar, who let out a series of melodic bellows that seemed to mimic the tune, and even Laboon, who added his deep, resonant whale song to the chorus. Crocus, hearing the familiar tune, began to hum along, a touch of nostalgia softening the lines around his eyes.
After a moment, curiosity piqued, he turned to Guts. "So, what's your agenda in Loguetown? Paying respect?"
Guts frowned, turning his gaze to Crocus. "You think I'd do that?"
"Heh," Crocus chuckled, a plume of smoke escaping his lips. "I'm more inclined to believe you're going there to fish for sardines." Crocus took another deep drag of his cigarette, then turned his attention to Robin. "Just a trip? For Robin, I believe?"
Guts remained silent.
He didn't need to answer.
Crocus, as the doctor who examined Robin, knew all too well. Robin's body wasn't the only thing that had shrunk; her mind had regressed as well. The miracle that occurred in Alabasta had taken a heavy toll on her body, spirit, and mind.
Guts could do nothing but wait for Robin to recover naturally. He was thinking of giving Robin the childhood happiness that she had lost, deciding to travel around and see the world.
"Don't worry," Crocus said, his voice softer now, pulling Guts from his thoughts. "Despite what he looks like... Buggy is very good with ships and machines. I've known him for a long time." Crocus nodded towards Buggy, his expression tinged with regret.
"We failed him, Guts. We all did," Crocus confessed, the weight of the past heavy on his shoulders. "After Roger... after everything, we just... broke. We scattered, each of us searching for something to fill the void, leaving Buggy alone and adrift."
Guts listened, his usual stoicism unwavering, but a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He is very familiar with this kind of regret, the kind that clung to a person like a shadow.
"Life goes on, Guts, but sometimes... sometimes the past still haunts you. We found new paths, but Buggy..." Crocus' voice trailed off, then he looked at Guts, a deep gratitude in his gaze. "Thank you... for giving him a chance. For taking him in."
Guts simply shrugged, avoiding Crocus' eyes. He didn't want gratitude, didn't want to be seen as some kind of savior. He knew Buggy's life wouldn't be easy, not with the darkness that followed Guts, but maybe... maybe it would be enough.
With the last of Buggy's crew's belongings stowed aboard the Jumoi, Guts let out a sharp, piercing whistle. The signal carried across the water, and moments later, the Jumoi lurched forward as Gargar began to pull, the massive sea creature's strength evident in the taut line connecting them.
Their immediate destination was a small, verdant island on the horizon, where they would drop off Crocus before braving the treacherous Calm Belt on their way to Loguetown.
The moment Buggy's pirates realized they were officially part of Guts' expedition team, the Jumoi transformed into a floating circus. True to their roots as a traveling circus troupe, they were masters of merriment and distraction.
Buggy, ever the showman, juggled his own disembodied head alongside a glittering array of daggers, his flamboyant laughter echoing across the deck.
Cabaji, perched precariously on his unicycle, weaved through the crowd while expertly exhaling plumes of fire, the heat momentarily warming the cool sea air.
Mohji, with a mischievous grin, engaged Richie in a series of silly, slapstick routines, much to Robin's amusement. The small archaeologist giggled, her eyes sparkling with joy.
As the Jumoi sailed onward, the atmosphere shifted as they entered a vast ship graveyard. Once a mere shipping lane, it had become a testament to Guts' relentless pursuit of pirates.
The seabed was now a tangled mess of splintered masts, tattered sails, and decaying hulls – the skeletal remains of countless pirate vessels.
The sight was eerie and chilling.
Even the boisterous Buggy pirates quieted, a sense of unease settling over them as they passed through the silent, watery tombs.
With the combined speed of Gargar's powerful tentacle strokes and the Jumoi's humming engine, it wasn't long before the small island that served as Crocus's home came into view. The island, a verdant jewel in the inky expanse of the night sea, was bathed in the soft glow of the crescent moon. Laboon, the colossal whale, trailed behind them, his massive form a dark silhouette against the starry sky. The air was thick with the scent of salt and the distant cries of nocturnal seabirds.
"Looks like this is far enough," Crocus announced, his voice carrying clearly across the water. With a practiced ease, he leaped from the Jumoi's deck onto the broad, scarred head of Laboon, landing with a soft thud.
Crocus turned his gaze towards Robin, who stood at the railing, waving farewell. The moonlight illuminated her face, highlighting the warmth in her smile. "Don't forget to take your medicine, little lady!" he called out, his voice laced with genuine concern.
Hearing that, Robin wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue in playful disgust. The medicine and supplements Crocus insisted she take tasted far worse than rotten broccoli, a fact she made abundantly clear with her childish gesture.
Then, Crocus turned his attention to Guts, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied the stoic swordsman. He sighed, realizing there was little to worry about when it came to Guts. The man was a force of nature, a survivor through and through. Even if the planet were to explode, Crocus was certain Guts would somehow survive.
Finally, Crocus's gaze lingered on Buggy for a long moment, a complex mix of emotions flickering across his weathered face. He averted his eyes, before looking back at Guts. "Guts," he said, his voice low and tinged with wry humor, "if you ever run out of bait, you can always use him," he added, gesturing towards Buggy with a subtle nod.
"@&#*¥%£!?" Buggy shrieked, his face contorting in a comical mixture of outrage and fear.
"Happy voyage, everyone," Crocus said, realizing there was nothing more he could offer. He turned away, his silhouette disappearing into the shadows of Laboon's massive head.
"Bye bye, Grandpa Crocus! Bye bye, Laboon!" Robin called out, waving enthusiastically. Gargar, too, seemed to offer a farewell, waving one of his massive tentacles towards Laboon, the gesture surprisingly gentle for such a fearsome creature. The whale, once a symbol of unending sorrow, had found a measure of peace, thanks to Robin's promise and Guts's… unique… approach to problem-solving.
Guts simply nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
"Don't live too long, old man!" Buggy shouted, his voice laced with a strange mixture of relief and annoyance. He turned away, muttering under his breath, but despite his gruff words, it was clear he was secretly pleased that his former friend and mentor was still alive and kicking.
The Jumoi turned, its sails catching the wind, and began to pick up speed, leaving the island and its inhabitants behind, swallowed by the vast darkness of the Grand Line.
As the first tendrils of dawn painted the sky, they arrived at the edge of the Calm Belt. A monstrous wall of Sea Kings rose before them, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger.
Instead of slowing, Gargar surged forward, plunging headlong into the throng.
"Boss! We're all going to die!" Buggy shrieked, his voice barely a whisper above the pounding of his own heart.
"Shut your damn mouth! You'll wake her," Guts snarled, his icy gaze silencing Buggy with the force of a physical blow.
While the rest of Buggy's crew scribbled frantic farewells to loved ones, a breathtaking spectacle unfolded.
The Sea Kings, behemoths of the deep, did not attack. Instead, they stared, their ancient eyes fixed on the Jumoi, and more specifically, on the small bundle in Guts' arms – Robin, swaddled in a protective blanket.
Some of the colossal creatures even parted, creating a path for Gargar and the ship to pass unhindered.
A crimson Sea King, its head crowned with bony protrusions like a Komodo dragon, began to swim alongside them, its massive form illuminated by the ethereal dawn light, creating a scene of otherworldly beauty.
Buggy rubbed his eyes, convinced he was hallucinating. The others, paralyzed by fear, held their breath, waiting for the inevitable carnage.
Then, a serpentine Sea King, its scales shimmering like sapphires, coiled its immense body around the ship, forming a protective barrier and guiding them through the living maze.
They sailed on, not as intruders, but as honored guests.
Buggy, a veteran of the Roger Pirates, felt a chill run down his spine.
Beneath his clownish exterior lay a keen instinct, honed by years of navigating the treacherous seas. He knew there was something extraordinary about the girl in Guts' arms.
As the others whispered in awe and terror, Buggy's mind raced. Then, the realization struck him with the force of a thunderbolt.
His mouth fell open, his eyes wide with disbelief.
The girl, Robin, possessed the same rare and legendary ability as his former captain, Gold D. Roger: the power to hear the Voice of All Things, the language of the sea itself.
They sailed on in silence, gliding through the magical realm of the Calm Belt, protected by the ancient guardians of the sea.
And as evening descended on that same day, Robin, fully awake and brimming with energy, sat perched comfortably on Guts' broad shoulder. Her tiny hand gripped a telescope, bringing the distant horizon into sharp focus.
Robin gasped, her eyes widening with excitement. Through the lens, she could see a multitude of ships crisscrossing the waters, their lanterns twinkling like fallen stars. And in the distance, the radiant lights of Loguetown shimmered against the dark canvas of the East Blue sky. The town's bustling port, a beacon of activity, was framed by the imposing silhouette of the execution platform, a stark reminder of the town's history.
Buildings rose in tiers, their windows glowing warmly, and the air seemed to crackle with energy.
She started shouting excitedly, her voice filled with childlike wonder, "Father! We're here!"
As they closed in on Loguetown, Robin tilted her head, a growing unease clouding her features.
Her whisperer ability, usually a subtle hum, now screamed with a cacophony of terror.
She gasped, realizing the townspeople of the East Blue had never seen anything like them.
To their eyes, Gargar wasn't a friendly companion; he was a monstrous leviathan rising from the depths.
The Marine base exploded into a frenzy.
Emergency sirens shrieked, cutting through the evening air like knives, and frantic orders blared from loudspeakers as the Marines scrambled to evacuate the terrified citizens.
Robin clutched her head, a sharp pain lancing through her temples.
A wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm her.
She was supposed to be their strategist, their tactician, the one who could foresee danger and guide them to safety.
But in this diminished state, her mind felt sluggish, her thoughts fragmented, as if a vital part of her had been stolen. The weight of their impending arrival, and the chaos it was about to unleash, pressed down on her like a physical burden.