Guts gently laid the exhausted Robin down on a makeshift bed in the corner of the tavern. It was constructed from several tables pushed together, topped with thin planks, and covered with a warm futon that Genzo had provided.
"Many thanks, Genzo," Guts said, his voice softer than usual as he carefully tucked his blood-red cloak around Robin.
Genzo, arranging a dozen bottles of rum on a tray, Guts's previous order, grumbled a response, his face etched with a perpetual scowl. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
His gruffness wasn't directed at Guts, though; it was reserved for the others seated around the table. Guts, despite his intimidating appearance, seemed like a knight from some faraway island, a far cry from the Red Force crew, who screamed "pirates" with every boisterous breath. Genzo had bad, very bad experiences with pirates, and he loathed them with a fiery passion. The mere presence of pirates in the tavern he managed was enough to curdle his ire.
Guts then ran a hand over Richie's thick mane as the lion lay sprawled on the floor, still recovering from the Haki. He turned his gaze to the orange-haired girl, Nami, who was perched on a stool at the bar with an expression a mix of annoyance and concern. "Thanks for the pillow," Guts said, a smile playing on his lips, genuinely touched by her gesture.
"Hmph! Don't think I did it for you!" Nami snapped, crossing her arms defensively. "It's for Robin-chan!"
"Robin-chan?" Guts snorted softly, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "That kid is older than you."
"Huh? What do you mean? I'm twelve!" Nami protested, a little offended that Guts had mistaken her for someone younger than Robin.
"Isn't that what I said?" Guts replied, his voice laced with dry wit.
"?" Nami tilted her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. A literal question mark seemed to materialize above her head as she tried to decipher Guts's words.
Guts pulled out a chair next to Miranda and sat down, joining Shanks, Benn Beckman, and Uta at the table. He surveyed the room, noting that only he and Miranda remained from his own party. The tavern was now mostly filled with Red Force pirates, a clear indication that Buggy wanted nothing to do with his former crewmate, Shanks.
Genzo, returning with a tray, slammed a bowl of the infamous "Son of a Fisherman" stew onto the table in front of Shanks. Guts glanced at Shanks, half-expecting a comical reaction, but Shanks simply picked up his spoon.
"Don't worry," Genzo grumbled, wiping his hands on his apron as he retreated back to tend the bar. "There's no poison in it. Just a whole lotta things you probably don't wanna know about."
"I've heard tales about this stew," Shanks said, his tone deceptively casual, a faint smile playing on his lips as he observed Guts's stony expression. "They say it separates the sailors from the boys..."
Without another word, he took a large spoonful of the stew and swallowed it, his face betraying nothing. He even let out a soft hum of appreciation, as if savoring a gourmet delicacy. "Not bad at all," he commented, before taking another bite. "A little... spicy, perhaps, but surprisingly palatable."
Guts's eye twitched almost imperceptibly, a subtle mix of annoyance and grudging respect flickering within his gaze.
After a moment, Shanks carefully set his spoon down, the clatter echoing in the sudden silence that had fallen over the table. His demeanor shifted, all traces of the carefree Yonko vanishing, replaced by a stark, almost haunted intensity. He was a father now, and a desperate one at that, willing to set aside his pride and beg for help.
"I didn't come to the East Blue to pick a fight, Black Swordsman," Shanks began, his voice low and steady, each word carrying the weight of unspoken fears. "I came here looking for you... drawn by a whisper, a fragile rumor that you might be my daughter's last hope."
He explained everything, laying bare his deepest anxieties. The whispers he'd chased across the Grand Line, desperate tales of a man with a cursed sword that could defy the very laws of the world, a sword that existed outside the boundaries of reason. The shocking news of Admiral Sakazuki's death, and the even more unbelievable rumors that followed—that Guts's sword had not just killed the man, but consumed his very power, absorbing his essence and transforming itself into a sword of living magma.
"I'm not here for your life, or your territory, or some twisted sense of glory," Shanks concluded, his gaze locking onto Guts's with unwavering intensity, pleading without words. "I'm here to ask for a favor. I believe your sword... that damned lump of metal of yours... might be the only thing in this world that can save my daughter from the darkness that's consuming her."
Guts listened patiently as Shanks laid bare his soul. Finally, when the silence stretched taut between them, he spoke with a voice that seemed to vibrate in the very air. "Save her from what, exactly? What is this darkness?"
Shanks's expression darkened, the lines around his eyes deepening as if etched by grief itself. He inhaled deeply, as if bracing himself against a torrent of painful memories, and then began to speak, his voice a low, somber melody that carried both profound sorrow and a strange, unsettling resolve.
"Once," he began, his gaze distant, lost in the echoes of the past, "there stood a radiant island called Elegia, famed throughout the seas as the Island of Music. It's people filled grand concert halls with soaring melodies and infectious laughter, a place of beauty beyond compare, a paradise untouched by the harsh realities of the world."
"I brought my daughter Uta there with the Red-Haired Pirates," Shanks continued, his voice softening with a hint of paternal affection. "I wanted her future different from mine, so I sought a teacher for her, which surprisingly even the King of Elegia found deeply enchanted by her voice, a voice that seemed to carry the very soul of the island itself."
"But fate," he said, his voice hardening once more, "had woven a darker thread into Elegia's song. Uta, still a child, brimming with curiosity and boundless creativity, discovered—whether by chance or by design—sheet music emblazoned with strange, forbidden runes, symbols that whispered of forgotten lore and unimaginable power."
"Drawn by its haunting melody, she sang," Shanks recounted, his voice laced with regret. "Unaware of the ancient evil she was awakening, her voice became the key, the catalyst that unleashed the Tot Musica, the Demon King of Songs, a cursed entity sealed beneath the island for millennia, an abomination that should never have seen the light of day."
"In mere moments," Shanks whispered, his face paling at the memory, "the island fell. Tot Musica's power erupted, a cataclysmic wave of sound that ravaged the land, tearing apart its foundations and claiming every life within its embrace. Elegia, the Island of Music, was reduced to a desolate wasteland, a silent tomb haunted by the ghosts of its former glory."
"Only King Gordon survived," Shanks concluded, his voice barely audible, "left to guard the ruins of his shattered kingdom. And that nightmare... that demon... now resides within my daughter, Uta, slowly consuming her from the inside out, threatening to unleash its destructive power upon the world once more."
Shanks gently stroked Uta's head, his touch filled with fatherly comfort, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "It's my fault... sob... sob... sob..." she choked out, her voice thick with grief and self-blame.
"No, it's not, Uta. How many times do I have to tell you that—" Shanks tried to soothe her, but before he could finish, Guts's cold voice sliced through the air like a shard of ice.
"It's the demon's fault," Guts stated flatly with his gaze fixed on Uta.
Uta looked up at Guts, with eyes wide and brimming with tears. Then, her face changed to shock and confusion. What she saw in Guts's eyes sent a shiver down her spine. They were inhuman, dark, and cold, like the eyes of a predator sizing up its prey.
"Clever, aren't you?" Guts muttered with a low growl that seemed to vibrate in the very air. "You think you've won, manipulating this child, hiding behind her innocence? Go ahead, keep lurking, keep concealing yourself, because we will find a way to tear you apart, limb from limb, soul from soul."
Uta froze. She could feel the weight of Guts's words, his chilling promise directed not at her, but at the malevolent entity lurking within her. She felt the demon inside her recoil, shrinking deeper, deeper into the recesses of her consciousness, desperately trying to escape Guts's piercing gaze.
Sensing the drastic shift in Guts's demeanor, Shanks swiftly scooped Uta into his arms, holding her close. He knew that Guts wouldn't intentionally harm her, but he also knew that the Black Swordsman's darkness was too much for Uta to bear. "You seem... very experienced with something... like that," he said carefully, his eyes fixed on Guts, seeking an explanation for his unsettling insight.
Guts tore his gaze away from Uta, his eyes locking onto Shanks's with unnerving intensity. "You don't want to know," he said, his voice a low warning rumble.
Shanks swallowed hard, sensing the abyss that lay beneath Guts's stoic facade. Fair enough, he thought, wisely choosing not to pry any further.
"I really need your help, Guts," he said, his voice laced with urgency. "Now the World Government is aiming for her. They see her as a threat to the entire world." Shanks glanced at Benn Beckman, who sat impassively on his left. With a flick of his wrist, Benn produced a bounty poster and placed it on the table. Uta's face stared back at them, her image marred by the harsh words scrawled beneath: Demon of Destruction, Uta. 1.4 Billion Berries. Dead or Alive.
Shanks then recounted the harrowing years that had followed Elegia's destruction, the constant pursuit by the World Government, which sought to either control or eliminate Uta, viewing her as an unpredictable weapon. He spoke of another Yonko, too, who craved Uta's power, seeking to exploit her for their own twisted ambitions.
He described the constant, never-ending battles, the desperate struggles for survival that had forged his name across the globe and ultimately led to him being crowned as the Fourth Yonko. Shanks shared the countless years spent in constant flight, always looking over their shoulders, until finally, he sought refuge in the most unlikely of locations: the very birthplace of the Marine hero, Garp, on Dawn Island.
Shanks's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly; each word he spoke was a testament to the weight of years etched onto his soul. It was only when he felt Uta's breath soften against his neck, a gentle sign that she'd finally succumbed to the exhaustion of her tears, that the tension eased slightly from his frame.
Genzo, watching Uta sleeping peacefully, felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl. He had seen too much suffering in his life, and Uta's story resonated with a deep-seated sense of protectiveness. "Sigh," he said gruffly, pushing himself to his feet. "Let me fetch another futon and pillow. Nami, give me a hand, will ya?"
"Of course, Genzo-san," Nami said softly, her usual sharp edges softened by compassion. She followed Genzo towards the stairs with light footsteps.
"I appreciate it, Genzo-san," Shanks said sincerely, offering Genzo a respectful bow.
Genzo just waved a dismissive hand, his face still etched with a scowl, but his eyes betraying a flicker of warmth. He disappeared upstairs, with Nami close behind.
Not long after, Genzo returned, carrying a folded futon and a fluffy pillow. He carefully arranged the bedding beside Robin, creating a safe haven for Uta. Shanks gently laid Uta down on the futon, tucking her in with tenderness.
"So," Guts rasped, flicking his lighter and drawing deeply on the cigarette. The silence stretched as he exhaled a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowed on Shanks. "What's your plan, exactly? And for your information, I'm still a Shichibukai. What I can do is... limited."
"I need your sword, Guts," Shanks said with a firm and unwavering gaze as he sat on the edge of the table with a tense posture. "I believe your blade is the only thing capable of severing the connection between Uta and Tot Musica, of dragging that demon out into the open."
"And then what?" Guts interrupted, a dark glint in his eyes. "Splitting her apart?"
"What?" Shanks asked, his brow furrowing in confusion and a hint of alarm. The chilling brutality of Guts's words sent a shiver down his spine.
Guts's blunt pronouncements triggered an immediate response. Benn Beckman, Yasopp, Lucky Roux, and all Red Haired pirates crew instinctively leveled their flintlock pistols at Guts, their faces hardening with suspicion and hostility. Miranda, in turn, drew her giant sashimi knife with a speed that belied her size and pressed the razor-sharp blade against Benn Beckman's throat, her eyes gleaming with predatory intensity as she licked her own lips.
"You assume my sword can simply absorb the demon inside your kid," Guts said, his voice calm and controlled despite the escalating tension, "but you forget one crucial detail: Dragon Slayer devoured Sakazuki's Devil Fruit ability when I split him apart."
Shanks raised a hand, a silent command for his crew to stand down. After a moment of tense deliberation, Benn, Yasopp, Lucky Roux, and the rest reluctantly lowered their weapons. However, before anyone could fully relax, Guts snatched a bottle of rum from the table and hurled it at Lucky Roux's face with surprising force. The bottle shattered against his forehead, splintering one of his goggles and tearing a shallow gash in his temple.
"That's for gunning at my party member," Guts said, his voice utterly devoid of remorse as he glared at Lucky Roux. Then, he turned his gaze to Miranda, his eyes conveying a clear, unspoken instruction: Release him.
Miranda clicked her tongue in mild annoyance, but she swiftly retracted her knife from Benn Beckman's throat.
Lucky Roux, for his part, merely grinned, unfazed by the attack. "Well... I guess I had that coming," he said with a shrug, removing the shattered goggle from his face. He dabbed at the trickle of blood with a handkerchief, his cheerful demeanor seemingly unshaken.
"Was that really necessary, Guts?" Shanks asked, his brow furrowed in disapproval.
"I hold grudges," Guts stated flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"It's okay, Captain," Lucky Roux chimed in, his grin widening to reveal a set of surprisingly even teeth. "Just a scratch! Besides, you gotta admit, these goofy eyes are pretty hilarious, right?" Benn Beckman and Yasopp chuckled softly, relieved to see their comrade unharmed.
Shanks sighed, a weary expression settling on his face. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair, the weight of his responsibility pressing down on him. It was becoming increasingly clear that saving Uta would be far more complicated than he had initially anticipated.
"Bring me inside her dream, then," Guts said abruptly.
"You'd do that?" Shanks asked, his eyes snapping open, his gaze searching Guts's face for any sign of deception. He was taken aback by the offer, struggling to reconcile the image of this ruthless warrior with the notion of him willingly venturing into the depths of his daughter's mind.
"With a price, of course," Guts said, a sardonic twist to his lips. "My... friend, Neptune, misses his late wife. And his daughter misses her mom, and if possible, with your daughter's ability, I'd like to... arrange a reunion."
At Guts's words, understanding finally dawned on Shanks. This tough warrior, hidden beneath his hardened exterior, is actually a caring man. The attack on Lucky Roux and the seemingly cold demand were all for the sake of his Nakama. Just like him.