"Woo—"
A deep, resonant horn sounded from the massive Marine warship, its call echoing across the harbor of Loguetown.
The ship began to slowly set sail, its imposing hull cutting through the gray water and sending waves splashing against the docks.
As the vessel moved further out to sea, the salty smells of the ocean and the restless energy of the tides swept across the deck, heralding the start of a new journey.
After a series of "friendly negotiations"—which largely consisted of Captain Smoker leveraging his custom motorcycle bribe and Captain Mike graciously accepting it—it was decided that Smoker and Warrant Officer Tashigi would accompany Mike's ship back toward the Grand Line.
Smoker's original subordinates would remain stationed in Loguetown, awaiting the arrival of the new Captain dispatched by Admiral Kuzan.
On the docks, standing as a testament to the successful backdoor deal, were two eye-catching, custom-built, three-wheeled motorcycles.
Their unique designs exuded raw power, but it was the bright red one that stood out.
Its crimson body gleamed under the filtered sunlight, a deep, candy-apple red accented with polished gold trim that was both luxurious and intimidating.
A golden five-pointed star emblem, the mark of a high-ranking officer's custom vehicle, shimmered on the front, radiating an unusual sense of authority.
Mike walked towards his new ride with a look of pure, unadulterated delight, running his hands lightly over the cool, sturdy metal of the frame.
A deeply satisfied gleam flickered in his eyes.
"To think I scored something this good for free…" he sighed inwardly, his joy was beyond words.
[Ding!]
[Host has obtained a top-tier custom motorcycle for free. All color schemes and decorations perfectly match the host's preferences.]
[Detected host's heightened mood. Happy Points +5000.]
He turned to look at the other motorcycle.
Smoker's three-wheeler was a beast of function over form, its frame a rugged, gunmetal gray, clearly built for durability and powered by the unique properties of his Smoke-Smoke Fruit.
His own bike, however, was something else entirely.
As he had specified to the shop owner, it was built to run on a different kind of fuel.
"Haa—" Mike took a deep breath.
"Fwoosh—" A small, controlled burst of flame erupted from his fist, dancing at his fingertips.
The problem wasn't getting the bike; it was resisting the urge to show it off immediately.
Suddenly, shouts rang out from the distance as the citizens of Loguetown, having heard of their departure, gathered at the docks to bid them farewell.
"Captain Smoker! Thank you for everything!"
"You'll always be our White Hunter!"
Most of them had come to see Smoker off.
After all, he had guarded their town for years, earning their deep respect.
But Mike, the mysterious and handsome newcomer, had his own small admirer.
"Handsome big brother, are you leaving already?"
A little girl with pigtails wearing a cute dress, excitedly ran up to Mike, her eyes tinged with a child's sincere reluctance.
She reached out her tiny hand and tightly grabbed the hem of his pants, as if afraid he would simply walk away and disappear forever.
It was the yogurt-loving girl he had met in the market.
Mike's lazy smirk softened into a genuine, warm smile.
He crouched down, looking at the innocent child with soft eyes.
He gently stroked her hair, the simple warmth of the touch stirring a tender emotion in his heart.
"Yeah," he said softly. "Big brother has some important things to take care of."
"Then..." the little girl's eyes flickered with hesitation.
Clutching her small satchel, she suddenly pulled out a bag of rice crackers, holding it up to him with both hands.
Her gaze was serious, as if this small gift could convey all of her feelings.
"This is my favorite snack. I want you to have it, handsome big brother."
"Oh, rice crackers!" Mike accepted the small bag, a real smile tugging at his lips as he carefully tucked it into his coat pocket.
"Big brother loves these too. Now that you've given them to me, I'll love them even more."
Hearing this, the little girl beamed and clapped her hands happily.
"Hehe, that's great! Bye-bye, handsome big brother!" She waved excitedly before running back to her parents.
Mike smiled and waved back.
"See you." He watched her small figure disappear into the distance, a warmth swelling in his chest.
Sometimes, life's simple joys were hidden in these small, unexpected moments.
Smoker walked over and clapped him on the shoulder, a rare, relaxed grin on his face.
"Let's go."
Mike returned the smile, standing up with a glint of excitement in his eyes.
Side by side, they strode toward the motorcycles.
Almost simultaneously, they swung their legs over their bikes, gripping the handlebars tightly.
"Vroom— VROOM—!"
The two motorcycles roared to life at the same instant, the thunderous sound shaking the entire dock.
The engines roared like beasts, and with a screech of tires against the stone, they surged forward.
"Boom—! Boom—!"
Almost in sync, the motorcycles launched off the edge of the dock and hit the water, sending up massive sprays of white foam.
The sound of their specialized wheels skimming across the water was wild and defiant, two monsters engaged in a frenzied race across the surface.
As they accelerated relentlessly, charging like wild horses toward the distant warship on the horizon, Mike took a deep breath, his chest swelling with surging energy.
Suddenly, brilliant orange flames erupted from his palms, rolling violently before engulfing his entire motorcycle in an instant.
"ROAR—!"
The motorcycle let out a beast-like roar, its crimson frame shimmering under the fiery embrace.
It was now a hellish chariot of fire, radiating an overwhelming power as it rocketed forward, leaving a trail of steam and fire in its wake.
"HAHAHAHA!"
An exhilarated grin spread across Mike's face, his voice piercing through the engine's roar.
"Smoker! The one who gets to the warship last—"
"—IS A DOG!"
"Damn it!" Smoker's eyes widened, a shocked curse escaping his lips.
"Mike, you bastard!" he roared, a mixture of anger and astonishment on his face as he pushed his own smoke-powered engine to its absolute limit.
"Your bike is a freaking top-tier custom build!"
The two fiery and smoky streaks charged toward the distant warship, their speed and intensity reaching a fever pitch.
As the distance grew, the two bikes gradually vanished beyond the horizon of Loguetown, leaving only fading ripples and the distant, triumphant echoes of their roars.
Next stop—Alabasta.
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