This year, I turned twenty-one.
Time really does fly. Before I knew it, I was old enough to drink legally.
I'm a wanted woman now—branded with the epithet "Pirate Laureate"—but I have no interest in the usual pirate routine of looting and plundering.
When I do pick a fight, it's with slavers, pirate ships, and scum who deserve it. Same as ever. In that sense, nothing has changed since my bounty hunter days.
Besides, if I'm being honest, royalties and manuscript fees more than cover my needs. I don't have to steal to live.
Still… this is the One Piece world. You never know what you'll run into.
I've stopped going out of my way to stir up trouble, but I never skip training.
Swordsmanship. Haki. My Devil Fruit. I keep sharpening everything, day after day.
And frankly, it's not like I get to relax. Marines and bounty hunters chase us often enough. Sometimes, if our luck is truly bad, the kind of monsters who shouldn't be wandering around show up—especially near the Sabaody Archipelago.
Every once in a blue moon, you even run into pirates with bounties over a hundred million, or Marines and bounty hunters strong enough to go toe-to-toe with them. Running into that class of opponent is the worst.
I've worked hard to get stronger, but anyone over a hundred million is usually a real problem. Some fights are simply unwinnable depending on the circumstances, so I avoid combat whenever I can. With Marines and bounty hunters, running is almost always the smartest choice.
Especially with Marines—winning earns me nothing but a bigger bounty and more headaches.
I've never taken pride in being called a pirate. The idea that a rising bounty equals prestige never even crossed my mind. A higher number just means more trouble, so I'd rather stay out of the spotlight.
Part of why I dodge fights is to keep my bounty from climbing.
They can call me a "Great Rookie" all they want, but halfway down the Grand Line, fifty-five million isn't anything special.
If I have to live as a pirate, then I want to disappear into the crowd. I want people to forget my name.
Maybe it's because I don't act ambitious. Maybe it's because I run when it makes sense and keep my profile low.
Two years after my bounty was issued, the number hasn't changed at all—still exactly what it was on day one.
Two years on, no one calls me a rookie anymore.
While the other "Great Rookies" chased infamy and drew attention, I was steadily written off as someone with "no growth potential," a "prodigy who peaked early." Little by little, I fell off everyone's radar.
Just as planned… (smirk)
That's my usual life: avoid trouble, avoid incidents, avoid danger.
But this time, I'm making an exception. I'm going to step deliberately into the center of something.
Not to cause chaos. Not to throw myself into the spotlight.
I won't even be directly involved. I'll stay at the edges and move quietly—pull a few strings, nothing more.
But the incident itself is enormous, so even the edges are dangerous.
After all, this is the infamous Mary Geoise raid led by the legendary adventurer, Fisher Tiger.
It happened a few months ago, back when I was staying around the Sabaody Archipelago.
I was talking with Rayleigh and Shakky in Shakky's bar when Hatchan stopped by.
In the middle of a casual chat, Hatchan said with bright, childlike excitement, "Tiger's back!"
Fisher Tiger is a living legend on Fish-Man Island—revered not only by ordinary fish-men and merfolk, but even by notorious names like Arlong and Jinbe.
Naturally, Hatchan adored him too, always waiting for stories from his travels and the souvenirs he brought home.
Hearing that Tiger had returned after a long absence, Hatchan couldn't contain himself.
But the moment those words left his mouth, I felt it—something shifting, something gathering.
From then on, I made sure to stay around Sabaody and the waters near the Red Line.
If Fisher Tiger had finally returned after being gone so long, then the attack on Holy Land Mary Geoise couldn't be far behind.
Living near lawless waters meant getting jumped constantly. I fought back every time, drove them off, and in the end… it turned into excellent training.
Most of the people I dealt with were underworld types, so the fights rarely became public. My bounty stayed quiet.
Now and then I left to clear my head, or to deliver manuscripts to Eddie-chan and the others, but otherwise I remained near Mary Geoise—making flimsy excuses to justify it—and waited.
Months passed.
Then, finally, the moment arrived.
Gagaga… This is Mary Ge… oise! Marine Headquarters, respond! A Fish-Man is atta… zzz… attacking! Raging out of control! …Slaves… released… Celestial Dragons… Gagaga…
I'd stolen a rare black Den Den Mushi eavesdropping device from a Marine ship I'd ambushed earlier, and it had picked up Mary Geoise's distress call to Marine Headquarters.
The instant I heard it, I set sail for the Red Line.
I turned my body to paper and took to the air, ascending to the top of the Red Line—close enough to see, far enough to survive. Going into the city itself was too dangerous.
Keeping my distance, I hid inside a camouflage sheet made with my Shallow Lie, making sure no one spotted me.
Then I raised a portable telescope and looked.
They're really tearing it apart. The Holy Land is on fire. The night sky glows red, and the Celestial Dragons are scrambling around, shrieking like animals.
…Honestly, it's satisfying to watch.
But that's not why I'm here.
Now… where are they…?
If they escaped in the original story, they should be hiding near the city's edge—
Oh.
There.
---
Run. Don't let them catch you again.
Fisher Tiger rampaged through Mary Geoise, freeing slaves of every race with his own hands and scattering them into the night.
Even though he despised humans as a whole, he made no distinction among the enslaved. To him, a slave was a slave, and freedom was freedom.
Tears streamed down faces as they thanked him. Remembering his warning—never be dragged back into this hell—they forced their battered bodies to move and fled into the darkness, one after another.
Among them were three stunningly beautiful young girls.
"Sonia, Marie… hurry! Get as far away as you can before the Marines arrive!"
"We know, Sister!"
"This is our last chance… our only chance… to be free!"
Hancock, Sandersonia, and Marigold ran in the opposite direction from the burning Mary Geoise, lungs on fire, legs trembling, refusing to stop.
Their clothes were scorched and torn, hanging off them in rags.
But the collars that had bound them were gone. Tiger had thrown them the key as they broke out of their cell, and they had torn the shackles off immediately.
As Marigold had said, this might be their first and last chance to reclaim their freedom. Understanding that, they ran until their bodies screamed.
Barefoot. Soles aching. Breath ragged. Vision swimming.
They kept running even as their strength drained away, even as the world tilted—until they reached the brink, the point where one more step might mean collapsing unconscious.
And if they collapsed, the Government would find them.
If they were dragged back, they would never taste freedom again.
Worse than that, they would be punished—tortured—for the "crime" of attempting to escape. Tiger's raid wouldn't matter. For a Celestial Dragon's slave, the attempt alone was unforgivable.
In the end, they chose to stop—just for a moment.
Trying to stay hidden, they squeezed into a hollowed space behind rocks, a natural crevice that looked like it might shelter them.
And the moment they stepped in, they realized they weren't alone.
In the dim light, they almost collided with someone already inside.
"W-who—? A man?!"
"E-eh?! P-pursuers?!"
"W-what do we do…?!"
"W-wait—no, listen! I'm… I'm like you!"
A man.
To them, the presence alone was enough to spike panic—revulsion and terror rising together.
Hancock fought to keep her breathing steady. For a heartbeat, she considered silencing him before he could raise an alarm, convinced he might be a Government agent lying in wait.
But his clothes were rags like theirs, his skin grimy, his body thin with hunger. He didn't look like a Marine.
Just as he said… he was probably the same as them.
Whether dulled by dirt or simply drained of life, his green hair hung limp. He was malnourished, yet the bones of his frame suggested he would have been solid under better conditions.
Even now, despite the hollow cheeks, he would have been handsome.
Hancock and her sisters exhaled in relief—but not trust. They kept their distance.
"You're escaping too, huh? If you're tired, you can rest here. It's… hard to say if it's completely safe, though."
"We understand," Hancock said curtly. "We'll borrow it for a moment."
The space was large enough for them to sit apart.
They slid down against the rock wall, catching their breath.
"You're escaping too… that must've been hard. Are you hurt?"
"…Don't get familiar. I have nothing to say to a filthy man like you."
"Sister?!"
"I understand how you feel, but—"
The man blinked, stunned to be called filthy out of nowhere, then seemed to swallow whatever response rose in his throat.
The thought of what the Celestial Dragons might have done to girls like these brought a sickening tide of possibilities. He couldn't ask. He couldn't confirm. But he didn't need to.
Slaves carried scars—some visible, most not. A hatred of men wouldn't be strange. It would be natural.
"No. It's fine. If you don't want to talk, you don't have to," he said quietly. "Sorry. I was too forward."
"Not at all," Hancock said, cold as ever. "At least you can reflect."
"Sister…"
Sandersonia sounded half-exasperated. Marigold watched the man carefully, checking for anger.
But he only gave a wry, tired chuckle and looked away.
On Amazon Lily, the sisters had never even interacted with men. They'd been taught that men were barbaric, vulgar creatures.
Then the men who enslaved them proved far worse than any lesson.
Still… Hancock could feel it.
This man was different.
She had no intention of showing it. No intention of lowering her guard. Once they left this crevice, they would become strangers again.
…Or so she believed.
Out of consideration, the man stopped talking and avoided looking at them.
Hancock and her sisters stayed silent too, waiting for their strength to return.
After a while, the man rose first.
"Well… I'll be going," he murmured, heading toward the exit.
"Wait," Hancock snapped, suddenly tense. "Don't go out there—someone's outside."
"What?!" the man and her sisters said at once.
Hancock's Observation Haki had caught a presence.
The warning drained the color from their faces.
Pursuers.
Even with their breath steadier now, they weren't confident they could fight.
Hancock and her sisters were Kuja warriors by birth, but years in chains had dulled everything. And if the Celestial Dragons sent hunters, they wouldn't send amateurs.
If a Marine officer was among them…
They would lose.
The man looked sturdier than most slaves, but he didn't radiate strength. Hancock didn't let herself hope.
Please, don't be an enemy.
Please, don't notice us.
The presence drew closer.
Close enough now for Sandersonia and Marigold to sense it too.
Footsteps followed—steady, deliberate, coming straight toward the crevice as if whoever it was already knew someone was hiding inside.
Hancock glanced at her sisters. She was about to gamble—step out first, draw attention, buy them time—
"No need to be on guard, Hancock. You must be exhausted."
"…Huh?"
Her name.
Hancock froze.
The voice was familiar—one she hadn't heard in years, a voice that made her stomach drop.
A moment later, the figure stepped into view at the entrance, and the other three widened their eyes.
"Lucky for me, all four of you are together. Long time no see, Hancock, Marie, Sonia. And… Tesoro too."
"You're…"
"…Sue!"
Nearly four years had passed since she left Mary Geoise.
Unaware of the outside world, the four captives couldn't know that Sue had become a pirate. Now, Sue, Hancock, Marigold, Sandersonia, and Tesoro... were reunited under these circumstances.
To be continued...