The fact that Monkey D. Luffy's wanted poster is already making the rounds means the Original Work has started… and at the very least, the Arlong Pirates have already been wiped out.
Which probably means the next steps are… Loguetown, nearly getting executed on the platform, somehow not dying after all, running from Smoker-san… and then they'll finally enter the Grand Line.
After that it's a pretty brutal pace—let's see, Whiskey Peak, picking up Vivi, then Little Garden, Drum Island, Chopper joins, and after that… the Alabasta Kingdom, right?
It's been more than thirty years, and I still remember all that surprisingly well. Good job, me.
So, yes—I've recalled the route the Original Work crew is about to take. But that doesn't mean I want to join their journey, or even sit somewhere and watch it unfold.
It's not that I'm completely uninterested… but I've been living in this world for thirty-four years now.
At this point, this world isn't "the world of One Piece" to me so much as it's simply the world I live in. Following the Original Work beat for beat, or stepping in just to enjoy meddling with it… those feelings, if I ever had them, don't really exist anymore.
Besides, for all I know, the moment I started living here, the story already began to drift—little bends and fractures branching off from the Original Work.
…And if I'm being honest, there are people I've gotten pretty deeply tangled up with.
Rayleigh, Shakky, Hatchan, Hancock… and Papa, too.
Of course, I'm not above using what I know to enjoy the parts I can. But like I said, I'm not out to actively interfere, to steer anything, to "change the plot."
So until now—and from here on, too—I don't plan to involve myself with them… the Straw Hat Pirates. At most, I'll read about what they've done in the newspaper and think, Wow, they're really going at it, huh.
Though… that stance might change someday.
In the end, you don't really know what you'll do until the moment actually arrives.
And even if, fundamentally, I keep my distance, there may be situations where I end up connected anyway—if there's some special reason.
For instance… not too long from now, even if I don't intend to get involved with them directly, I do plan to drop by a place where the Original Work story is going to unfold.
Maybe I'll run into one of the Original Work characters there.
---
And so… here I am.
Even factoring in that this is a desert country, the heat is unreal. War really is terrifying.
Right now, I'm in Alubarna, the royal capital of the Alabasta Kingdom.
I climbed to the top of a suitably tall building and looked down on the scene spreading below—the collision between the Rebel Army and the Royal Army. Yes. This is that moment: the final stretch of the Alabasta arc.
Vivi and the Straw Hat Pirates tried to stop the two sides from clashing, but BW interfered. They couldn't halt it in time, and the fighting began.
And behind all of that, the battle between BW and the Straw Hat Pirates has already been underway for a while. Not long ago, I saw a massive sandstorm erupt inside the Royal Palace—an entire section turning to sand. Luffy and Crocodile's fight is moving forward, too.
So by now…
Oh. The clock tower's face just opened.
A huge bird launched out, carrying a massive round object up into the sky—
DOOM!!
—and the rain began to fall.
Almost at the same time, part of the capital's ground detonated, and Crocodile burst up from below… or rather, he was punched up—sent flying by Luffy.
Vivi's voice rang out. Chaka's. Igaram's. King Cobra's.
The truth spread across the battlefield like a tide.
The frenzy drained away, replaced by tears.
All right… now's my chance.
King Cobra had originally been in the Underground Sanctuary where the Poneglyph is enshrined. He watched the end of Luffy and Crocodile's battle from there.
The only reason he's above ground now is because Luffy rescued him—along with Robin—and brought them up.
Which means the place with the Poneglyph… is empty.
"Wow. This is practically on the verge of collapse… It's not going to hold much longer."
I slipped in through the hole Crocodile blasted open—turning my body into paper to get through—and stood before the Poneglyph.
So this is it… I knew it was big, but still.
And… yeah. Still can't read it at all.
I've reinforced the chamber by pasting paper everywhere, bracing the structure, but it won't last. I need to get this done—fast.
All right. Let's do it.
"I'll be taking you… Enigma."
The instant my fingers made contact, my Powers triggered, and the Poneglyph began to change.
Good. It worked.
That enormous cube didn't just shrink—it thinned, rapidly, as if its mass were being rewritten into a different form. In a matter of seconds, it had become a single sheet of paper, the same surface size as before.
I rolled it up, neat and tight, and stored it inside my body like I always do.
Robin already read it. It's not like anyone else needs it… so it's fine if I take it, right? A souvenir for Papa, then. And—yeah. If I don't leave now, I'm going to get buried alive.
My support was close to its limit.
I turned to paper again, scattered, and slipped through the falling rubble—threading the gaps as the chamber collapsed—then shot out of the underground space without hesitation.
---
After that, I left Alabasta without meeting any of the Original Work characters.
Honey was waiting on the ship, as usual. I left the helm to her while I used the Den Den Mushi to make a quick call.
The person on the other end was a regular client of mine—the one who kept my "Pirate Literary Master" persona well-fed.
"Kuwahahaha! So it really was the Straw Hat Pirates pulling strings behind this incident."
"Oh? You say 'really'—so you'd already guessed, Morgans?"
By now, the president of the world's largest newspaper company is a man known in both the light and the dark.
Big News Morgans.
"Naturally. Anyone with even a little feel for information could read between the lines. They must've tried to scramble and cover it up, but as always, their concealment is sloppy."
Morgans went on:
Crocodile may be rotten, but he's still a Shichibukai. Even if the Marines involved were Headquarters elites, a mere captain with a handful of grunts isn't beating someone like that.
And if he truly was moving as the boss of a criminal syndicate, commanding infamous criminals under him, that only makes it more obvious.
There was no sign of them mobilizing higher-ranking officers. And in the first place, around Alabasta, the Marines and the Government had trusted Crocodile to such a degree that they barely kept Marines stationed there at all. They wouldn't have conveniently had the manpower ready to deploy.
On top of that, Straw Hat Luffy's bounty—somehow—jumped to the 100 million range, and he just happened to have been in Alabasta or nearby.
It spiked abruptly, without any publicly acknowledged incident worthy of it. Strange.
There were other small pieces, too—little doubts and inconsistencies—but taken together, the conclusion was simple:
Straw Hat Luffy defeated Crocodile. The Marines and the World Government hid the truth to save face, stole the credit, and dressed Captain Smoker up as a hero.
"It's an amusing fact," Morgans said, "but unfortunately, we can't run it. It's not especially classified, and the impact isn't worth weighing against getting stared down by the Government."
"Yeah… that's a shame."
"But I'm putting together a special feature on the Alabasta Kingdom. We won't touch the truly dangerous truths—just focus on the grim reality of a nation caught in conflict, that kind of angle. Sue. Can you write me another column? I don't have much time."
"I figured you'd ask. I did the interviews, and I've already got material—some of it's even written. If you want it shaped a certain way, just tell me. I can adjust or write fresh."
"Kuwahahaha! As expected of you, Sensei! All right—you're still near Alabasta, yes? Perfect. One of our correspondents is in the area. If you both move, you can meet around the midpoint… Kyuka Island is the closest. Head there at once. As for the article…"
I listened, gathered his requests, organized them in my head, and ended the call.
Honey—who'd been listening beside me—let out a small, resigned sigh and turned the wheel.
"Changing our destination, then."
"Yeah. Sorry. But thanks. And to make it up to you—let's actually relax on Kyuka Island. Properly."
With Honey handling the ship, I sat down and began writing in the shape Morgans wanted.
I set my familiar pen and ink bottle on the desk and spread out my manuscript paper.
I marked the rough point where his word count would land. Then I paused, assembling the structure in my head—how to fit everything cleanly inside the limit.
Then I started.
—Clink. —Gagagagaga…
"…That's ridiculous," Honey muttered, a mix of exasperation and admiration.
And, well… she wasn't wrong.
My hand moved fast enough to leave faint afterimages. The metal pen nib tore across the paper so fiercely that friction heat made thin wisps of smoke rise, carrying a faint scorched scent.
That heat had a bonus effect: the ink dried almost instantly, even though it wasn't meant to. Not intentional, but I'll take it.
And yes—this is me praising myself—but the handwriting stayed neat. No splatter, no smears. No wrinkles in the page. I didn't even stray outside the squares.
Every so often—clink—I dipped the nib into the ink bottle and kept going.
After nearly twenty years of writing, while training on the side as well… I'd somehow become the kind of person who could do this.
And before the thought even finished forming, it was done.
The exact amount Morgans specified: three and a half sheets of 400-character manuscript paper.
Time spent writing: just under a minute. Not bad.
Of course, the only reason I could write at that speed was because I'd already decided what to say down to the word level.
If I'm thinking while writing—like with my novels—it takes longer. Much longer.
From here, I'd work with the Kyuka Island correspondent to tighten the piece: restructure, tweak phrasing, cut here, add there, until we had a proper draft. But for now… this is enough.
"All right, work's finished. Honey, are we close yet?"
"Are you serious? We changed course less than five minutes ago."
"Ahahaha. I'm kidding. Safe sailing, okay?"
"Mm-hm. You're taking over later."
I nodded, smiling.
Kyuka Island… it's been a while.
Since we're going, we should stay somewhere nice. The food there is incredible, too… What should I eat first?
---
A few days later, Honey and I arrived safely on Kyuka Island.
A correspondent from the World Economic News was already there, so I handed over the manuscript. We did a quick check together, talked through details, and finished the meeting on the spot.
I also gave them photographs I'd taken during the coverage—use them however you want, I said. Some were from places too dangerous for ordinary reporters to ever approach, so Morgans would probably be delighted.
"The final proofreading will be done at headquarters," the correspondent said, and then left in a hurry.
As usual, the payment would be routed to me discreetly—through the back channels—so the Marines and the Government wouldn't have reason to glare in my direction.
With the work wrapped up that quickly, I decided that meant one thing.
Vacation.
I booked the best room in a luxury hotel—the top-floor penthouse with its own pool—and reserved it for a full week.
Good food. Fun diversions. Enough tempting merchandise to make you want to buy things you don't need… true to its name, Kyuka Island had everything you could ask for when you wanted to enjoy a break.
I fully intended to forget work, forget everything, and just enjoy a normal vacation for a while.
…That was the plan, anyway.
It happened around the fourth day.
Honey and I were stretched out poolside, beach chairs set up, both of us in swimsuits, tropical drinks in hand, basking in the sunlight like we had all the time in the world.
…Which, yes, is ridiculous. We rented a room with a pool, but we're both Ability Users. We can't swim. There is no "let's get in the water" option. What are we doing with our lives?
And then—
Something came down from above.
Not came, exactly.
Fell.
"YAAAAAAAHHHHHHH—!?"
—SPLAAASH!!
"Ghk—what the—!?"
"W-What was that?!"
Something plummeted out of the sky and slammed into the pool, throwing up an enormous splash and a pillar of water.
I could've sworn I heard a scream—so that was… a person?
Honey and I both jolted upright. When the spray settled enough to see, there were three people in the water.
One was floating.
Two were sinking.
The one floating was a small girl—apple-red cheeks, an outfit that looked like something a kindergartener would wear, a tiny body. The impact must've rattled her hard; she'd already passed out.
And the two sinking—
A young blonde woman in a One Piece dress.
And a man with sunglasses—miraculously still on—wild, flared "bomber head" hair, and a long coat.
…Wait.
Why do they feel familiar?
Especially that little girl…
"…Huh? Marianne?"
To be continued...