Late at night on the terrace of the Baratie, Guts and Robin sat together, sipping drinks. The gentle sea breeze carried the scent of salt and fish, mingling with the rich aroma of the restaurant's famous broth.
Moonlight shimmered on the dark surface of the ocean, casting long, dancing shadows that swayed with the gentle rocking of the floating restaurant. Inside, the muffled sounds of a lively jazz band drifted out, a mix of brassy trumpets, smooth saxophones, and rhythmic piano chords creating a vibrant, yet soothing ambiance.
While Buggy leaned casually against the railing, observing the vast expanse of the ocean.
Guts, however, remained lost in thought, Casca's words from a recent dream echoing in his mind. The possibility – building a band of his own – had been nagging at him ever since he left Loguetown.
Robin, noticing Guts' silence as he stared at the wine bottle in his hand, spoke softly, "What's on your mind, Father?"
Hearing Robin's gentle voice, Guts shifted his gaze and looked at her, a warm smile gracing his lips. "A Band, Robin," he said, "I'm thinking about forming a band of my own."
"Like the Band of the Hawk, Father?" Robin asked.
The topic seemed to pique Buggy's interest, and he turned around, leaning his back against the railing. "What's that, Boss?" he asked Guts, his voice laced with excitement. "Are you finally deciding to become a pirate? If so, the great Buggy will teach you how!"
Guts chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "No, it's—" The sound of the door opening abruptly cut Guts' words short.
"Robin-swan!" Sanji, spinning dramatically, approached Robin and carefully placed a crystal-clear glass in front of her, filled with a sakura-colored liquor and adorned with what looked like a small lotus flower on top. "A beautiful drink for a beautiful you!" he declared, causing Robin to giggle softly.
A vein popped on Guts' forehead. This blonde-haired boy kept coming after Robin, even after Guts had beaten him up countless times. There was something wrong with this boy. His injuries healed far faster than those of ordinary people, and his bones were incredibly dense. Of course, Guts wasn't beating him with Haki, but still, the boy was anything but normal.
Guts rose from his seat, the clanking sound of his armor punctuating his movement. "It seems I haven't beaten you enough, boy," he growled.
Sanji took a step back, a flicker of fear in his eyes. How could such a brutal man who looks like a sea beast have such a beautiful daughter, who is like a mermaid I often imagine? he wondered.
Suddenly, Sanji felt something soft brush against the back of his head. It seemed he had bumped into someone while stepping back. "Ah, sorry—" Sanji turned around to apologize, but before he could finish, he found himself face-to-face with the breasts of a tall woman with long, wavy red hair and an apron as her only covering. The apron did little to hide her hourglass figure and the beautiful muscles that rippled beneath her skin, causing Sanji's face to flush a deep crimson.
Miranda, holding a plate of sashimi in her hand, leaned forward slightly, her cleavage becoming even more prominent. "Whatt, so no beautiful drink for beautiful me?" she purred, her face inches from Sanji's.
At that, Sanji's eyes transformed into hearts, and he shot skyward, spinning wildly, a geyser of nosebleed spraying in every direction before he plummeted into the ocean below.
Sanji's coworker, Carne, who was serving customers nearby, screamed, "Sanji!" He then leapt towards the ocean to rescue his comrade.
"Kiehehe, he's cute," Miranda chuckled, placing the plate of sashimi on the table. "Me borrowin t'kitchen n' made it meself." She then pulled a handkerchief from the back pocket of her short jeans, reached for the giant sashimi knife strapped to her thigh, and began to clean it with practiced ease.
As Guts sat back down, he examined the sashimi. The slices were incredibly thin, almost translucent. He picked up a slice with his chopsticks, marveling at how he could almost see through the paper-thin piece. He then put it in his mouth, his eyes widening in appreciation. It was so fresh that it felt as though he were eating a live fish.
"Impressive," Guts said, already reaching for another slice.
Miranda grinned. "O'course. Me very good at cuttin things."
Hearing Miranda's words, Robin's hand, which held a chopstick with a slice of sashimi, froze in mid-air. Her Whisper ability was picking up something from Miranda's words. Very good at cutting... Human... Robin's mouth fell slightly agape. Miranda was very good at hiding her true nature, but sometimes, something disturbing leaked out.
Robin glanced back and forth between the sashimi on her chopstick and the knife that Miranda was polishing, then hesitantly placed the sashimi back on the plate.
Seeing this, Miranda chuckled softly. "No worries, sweety," she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Me usin a differentt knife."
Even after hearing what Miranda said, Robin remained hesitant to eat the sashimi.
Buggy, growing impatient, spoke up. "So, aren't you going to continue what you were saying, Boss?" he asked, glancing at Miranda's revealing attire with a clear sense of annoyance.
Guts stopped stuffing his mouth with sashimi, finally remembering that he was in the middle of a conversation; the constant distractions had made him forget. He put down his chopsticks, cleared his throat, and said, "It's a mercenary group. I was once part of one."
Buggy's eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening in surprise.
"The money-grubbing warmongers?" he asked, questioning what he had heard.
Guts reached for the bottle of wine before answering. "Yeah, a group that isn't aligned to anyone or anything, moves based on what the client pays for."
Buggy furrowed his brow, a look of sour suspicion twisting his features. "So, as long as the money's good, we'll do anything, is that it?"
Guts chuckled, a low sound in his chest. "We can choose not to."
A look of utter confusion spread across Buggy's face, causing both Guts and Robin to chuckle.
Robin looked at her father, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. Because of her, Guts had become a Shichibukai. But Robin knew, deep down, that her father was a ferocious beast who refused to be chained, a force of nature that couldn't be truly controlled.
"It's not that complicated," Guts said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's just an ideology, a principle, you could say, just to justify our actions."
Buggy crossed his arms and tapped his foot, thinking deeply. After digesting Guts' words, he asked, "Aren't you a Shichibukai, Boss?"
Guts shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You can be a pirate, a bounty hunter, a civilian, a fish-man, a—"
"Even a witch?" Buggy added, pointing at Miranda with a wary expression.
"Even a pervert?" Robin added, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she looked at Miranda.
Guts chuckled. "Yeah, even a witch or a pervert. As long as you embrace its ideology, you can become a mercenary."
"Oh, please," Miranda said, feigning hurt. "Me a respectable n' kind Marine."
Buggy spat on the deck in response to Miranda's absurd claim. "No kind Marines hang pirate heads on their hips like a war general!" He still shuddered at what he had witnessed when their ship was attacked by dozens of ships from Don Krieg's fleet, one of the largest pirate crews in the East Blue. Buggy vividly remembered Miranda leaping alone onto one of the ships, only to return bathed in blood as red as her hair, with numerous severed heads dangling from her hips like a trophies.
Her brutality had even surpassed Gargar's, the sea king who had sunk many of Don Krieg's ships, ultimately driving Don Krieg himself to flee in terror.
Miranda chuckled. She re-attached the giant sashimi knife to her thigh, then crossed her arms, with a thoughtful expression on her face. She began to wonder when exactly she had started to lose her empathy towards human life. Was it after her sister was killed, along with her nephew? But if that was the only reason, she should only loathe pirates.
As her mind wandered, she finally stumbled upon a more complete answer: the pizza guy. The pizza delivery guy she had met at Sabaody Archipelago long ago. It was around the time when she had just finished her baptism alongside the current Watcher and Punisher, when she was still in her late teens.
At that time, Bishop Iron, her superior and caretaker, granted her a special privilege: the right to choose a sacrifice for offering to the goddess, a gift for her coming of age and to prove her faith. As young as she was, she struggled to decide who to choose. There were too many bastards to offer, and she didn't want to choose randomly. She needed to find her ideal offering.
A strong pirate, perhaps? She considered, but immediately dismissed the thought; it didn't feel quite right. A weakling, pleasing to torture? Not quite right either.
Feeling hungry from all the thinking, Miranda ordered food from her room, a relatively new and unique service at the time: delivery. People usually ate in taverns or restaurants, but the inn offered such a service, and she wanted to try it at least once.
She reached for a piece of paper on the table beside her bed, a menu filled with unfamiliar dishes. After deciding what to order, she reached for a Den Den Mushi, also on the table, to order her red deep-sea carp, pineapple, and mint pizza, along with a Cola for her lunch.
No sooner had she lain down on the bed, making herself comfortable, than she heard a knock at the door. It was surprisingly fast, she thought. She opened the door and there he was: the pizza delivery guy. A young man with an honest face.
"Your order, miss," the delivery guy said, handing over the pizza and Cola, which she took and placed on the table before turning back to him.
"How much d'me owe ye?" Miranda asked. The delivery guy seemed slightly surprised; the owner had mentioned that she had a very unique way of speaking.
"Just 1800 Berries, miss," said the delivery guy.
Quite cheap, she thought, considering she was in Sabaody's Commercial District. She reached into her wallet and handed him two thousand-Berry bills. "Keep de change," she said.
Hearing that, the delivery guy beamed. "Are you sure? Thanks, miss!"
Seeing his genuine happiness, she was amazed. It was just 200 Berries, not even enough for a single meal in Sabaody, but it was enough to make the guy incredibly happy. And besides her amazement, she felt something else inside her heart, a feeling she would later recognize as the joy of giving. It was a very strange, yet very pleasant sensation.
From then on, she ordered food from her room, just to meet the guy and feel that joy again. She did this for days, until one day, after waiting for quite some time, the delivery guy still hadn't arrived.
Thinking that perhaps her order would be delivered last, Miranda decided to walk around and sightsee, leaving a note and three thousand Berries with the innkeeper before leaving. She had already delayed long enough; she needed to choose her offering soon.
As she walked around, choosing, she came across a crowd of people. Curious, she approached, and the first thing she saw was the body of the delivery guy lying on the ground with a bullet hole in his forehead, and a Marine standing over him with a flintlock in his hand, its muzzle still smoking.
She came closer and asked the Marine captain what was going on, and the Marine explained that the guy had accidentally splashed him with Cola as he was passing by on the street.
Just for that, the young delivery guy had been shot to death by the Marine who was supposed to protect him, with a flintlock and a bullet bought with the tax money he paid.
Then something inside her cracked. She realized that, no matter if it was pirates, Marines, or perhaps even civilians, people could do evil without devils.
A smile bloomed on her face. She had finally found someone for her sacrifice.
She then invited the Marine captain for a drink, drugged him, and brought him to the storage room she had rented, filled with everything she had prepared since the very first day she arrived in Sabaody.
She tied the Marine captain's body to an iron bed, suspended above a floor covered in plastic wrap. She amused herself as she peeled his fingernails off, one by one, filling the quiet storage room with the melodious sounds of his suffering. She cut his lips off, skinned him alive, then poured lemon saltwater on the exposed wounds, torturing him slowly, savoring every moment of his agony until the screams stopped, until all that was left behind was a gruesome, mutilated corpse.
"HEY!"
Buggy's voice snapped her out of her reminiscing. She looked at the shuddering Buggy and asked, "Whatt?"
"You're scheming something, aren't you, you smiling witch!?" Buggy pointed at her, his face filled with suspicion.
She chuckled. "Me was just reminiscin' bout somethin' happy, kiehehe." Her words made Buggy take a step back; something happy for this witch was never a good sign. Miranda then looked at Guts and said, "Lemme join, Guts."
Guts grinned. "Sure."
Buggy's mouth dropped open. He then shouted in exasperation, "You must be joking, Boss!? There's no way you're letting this wicked redhead join you!?"
Then, the grin on Guts' face vanished, replaced by a chillingly cold expression. He spoke slowly and calmly, "Like I said before, Buggy, if she betrays us, Sengoku will get a package with her head in it."
"Kiehehehe, no worries, Boss. Me a very loyal n' dedicated person!" said Miranda smugly.
Guts nodded, his face still as cold as ice. "I hope so, Miranda. I hope so." Guts knew that keeping an enemy closer was better than letting them watch you from the shadows.