Chapter 39
The sea trembled. The whale groaned. And Luffy kept punching.
His fists slammed into the creature's head, But the whale didn't flinch. Didn't roar. Just groaned—low and heavy, like it had forgotten how to fight.
"Come on!" Luffy shouted, panting. "You broke my seat! That means you have to fight me!"
No answer. Just silence.
Luffy turned.
The Going Merry was gone.
"Eh?" His eyes darted across the empty sea. No mast. No sails. No shouting voices. "GUYS?!"
He ran to the edge, peering down. Nothing but dark water and whale skin.
His face twisted. " YOU SWALLOWED MY CREW?!"
He launched into another barrage—wild, rubbery, furious. Every punch screamed give them back. Every stomp carried the weight of a promise.
"HEY GIVE THEM BACK RIGHT NOW!" he roared, voice cracking. "We still have places to go! Islands to see! I haven't even found the One Piece yet!"
"I'M GONNA PUNCH YOU UNTIL YOU COUGH THEM UP!"
But the whale only sank deeper, like it was tired of everything.
Luffy paused, breathing hard. Then he spotted it—a metal hatch on the whale's back.
"A door?! You have a door?!"
Without hesitation, he yanked it open and dove inside.
---
Below, silence ruled.
The Merry bobbed gently in a shallow pool, surrounded by curved walls that shimmered faintly with moisture. The air was thick and damp, echoing with distant creaks and the soft drip of water. Moss clung to the stone-like flesh. Lanterns hung from crooked posts, casting a warm, flickering glow. A dock stretched from the shore, leading to a small island with a shack built from driftwood and rusted metal. A windmill turned lazily beside it, creaking with each slow rotation.
And in the middle of it all, an old man sat in a beach chair, reading a newspaper like this was his backyard.
Wild gray hair. Calm eyes. Didn't speak. Didn't move.
"Are we dead?" Usopp whispered.
"If this is the afterlife," Sanji muttered, cigarette trembling, "it smells like seawater and moldy wood."
Zoro's hand hovered near his sword. "I don't trust it."
Nami gripped the railing, eyes wide. "He's just… sitting there."
The old man turned a page.
Still silent.
Still reading.
Usopp cracked first.
"DON'T MOVE, OLD MAN!" He scrambled toward the cannon. "I HAVE A CANNON AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!"
The old man didn't blink.
"Don't," he said, voice calm. "Someone will die."
Usopp froze. "Wh-who?!"
Sanji stepped forward, cocky grin curling beneath his cigarette. He tilted his head, hands in his pockets, voice smooth and sharp.
"Yeah? Who's gonna die, old man? You threatening us? 'Cause if you are, you better be ready to back it up. I don't care how many wrinkles you've got—if you're hiding something, I'll drag it out of you myself."
The old man looked up. "Me."
Sanji blinked. "Huh?"
The answer hit like a brick wall. His grin faltered.
"WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!" he snapped, storming forward. "You think you're clever?! You think you're mysterious?!"
Zoro grabbed his collar.
"Easy, dart-brow. Let me talk."
Zoro faced the old man. "Who are you? And where the hell is this?"
The old man folded his paper. "Isn't it polite to introduce yourself first?"
Zoro hesitated. "Right. I'm Roronoa Zoro, pirate, swordsman, and—"
"Crocus," the old man said. "Doctor. I live here."
Zoro twitched. "I WASN'T DONE YET!"
Crocus reopened his paper. "I was."
Zoro's eye narrowed. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, knuckles white.
"That's it," he growled. "I don't care if you're a doctor or a ghost—I'll cut you down if you don't start talking!"
He stepped forward, swords rattling at his side, voice rising with fury.
"You think you can sit there and act like nothing's wrong?! We were swallowed whole! You better start explaining or I'll carve this place open myself!"
Sanji stepped in front of him, one hand raised, calm but firm.
"Zoro, cool it," he said, voice low. "We're not here to pick a fight."
He turned to the old man, exhaling smoke.
"Look, we're not trying to cause trouble. We just want to know where we are… and how to get out."
Crocus didn't flinch. He folded his newspaper again, looked up with the same quiet eyes.
"You're inside the whale," he said simply. "It ate you."
The words dropped like stones.
The crew stared.
Usopp lowered the cannon.
Zoro muttered curses under his breath.
Nami just blinked, trying to process the fact that they were… wherever this was… talking to a man who apparently lived here.
Then, without lifting his voice, Crocus pointed behind them.
"The exit is right there."
They turned.
A massive metal door stood embedded in the far wall—towering, sealed, and unmistakably artificial. Its surface gleamed with rivets and rust, and a thick crank mechanism sat beside it, waiting.
Nami's eyes widened. "We can leave?!"
She gripped the railing, half-laughing, half-shouting.
"All that panic—for nothing?!"
Usopp's jaw dropped. "That was there the whole time?!"
Sanji raised an eyebrow. "Could've mentioned that earlier, old man."
Zoro scowled. "Tch. Figures."
The crew stared at the door, the tension slowly draining from their shoulders. The silence didn't feel so heavy anymore.
---
Meanwhile, deep inside the whale's tunnel, Luffy ran.
The walls curved around him like the inside of a cave, slick and pulsing faintly with life. His footsteps echoed through the passage, splashing through puddles and brushing past hanging roots and strange, fleshy ridges.
"Where is everybody?" he muttered, eyes darting left and right. "This place is weird…"
He kept moving, fists clenched, ready for anything.
But the deeper he went, the quieter it got.
No crew.
No voices.
Just the sound of his own breathing, and the distant heartbeat of something.