Excited with his newfound power, Zino raised his hand and focused. He tried to feel the air around him — the breeze, the particles, the light movement.
A faint swirl formed on his palm. A small spiral of wind spun gently in place like a tiny dust devil, barely enough to ruffle his hair.
"That's it?" he sighed. The effort was intense, and the result was unimpressive.
Still, it was something. It proved he had access to the element, even if his control was weak.
He sat back down on the raft, arms resting on his knees as the waves gently rocked his makeshift vessel. The realization struck him — he had a rare and potentially powerful Devil Fruit. One that could give him dominion over nature itself, but it would require training and mastery.
"Let's just be patient about it," he muttered, calming his thoughts. Rushing would only lead to frustration.
He closed his eyes, feeling the wind graze his skin. He tried to attune his senses to the movement of the air — the currents above the sea, the warm breeze from the south, the faint resistance against his fingers.
From that point, Zino then began training. It was primitive, slow, and frustrating, but it was a start. Every little swirl of air on his palm, every flicker of pressure change, was a step forward for progress.
...
While Zino floated across the sea, immersed in his training to control air—the first element swallowed through his Devil Fruit—he remained unaware of the storm his disappearance had caused elsewhere.
Far away, within the upper halls of Marine Headquarters at the Holy Land of Mariejois, the atmosphere was tense. Inside the office of the Commander-in-Chief, a loud *slam* echoed across the room. Monkey D. Kong, a large and imposing man with a lion-like mane of white hair and sharp eyes, had just received a report that made his blood boil.
"WHAT? Zino has gone missing in East Blue?!" Kong roared, slamming his palm onto his desk hard enough to shake the Den Den Mushi beside him.
A young marine officer standing before him flinched, holding his cap tightly to his chest. "Y-Yes, Commander-in-Chief… the report came in this morning from Loguetown's branch. He was declared missing ten days ago."
Kong's face darkened. "Ten days? Why am I only hearing about this now?!"
The officer gulped. "Sir, we only confirmed the disappearance after multiple failed communications. The squad he joined hasn't responded to any call for over a week."
"Wait—wasn't he with Garp?" Kong asked, his tone rising again. "I told that old fool to watch over him while he was on assignment in East Blue!"
The officer winced. "Er… sir, this is not Vice Admiral Garp fault."
"Explain!"
With a shaky breath, the officer continued, "Trainee Zino volunteered, sir. Apparently, he wanted to prove himself. He joined a small marine unit that was deployed to chase down a pirate crew off the coast of Shell Town."
Kong clenched his jaw. "Without permission?"
"It seems so, sir. He insisted on going, stating that he wanted to bring back results to impress you."
"Impress me?" Kong stood from his chair, towering over the trembling officer. "Does that brat think learning basic Rokushiki qualifies him to act alone? He's barely trained!"
The room fell into heavy silence, broken only by Kong's heavy breathing. After a few tense seconds, Kong growled under his breath and reached toward the Den Den Mushi.
"I'm getting to the bottom of this—right now."
He twisted the dial rapidly. After a moment, the snail's face transformed into the unmistakable features of Vice Admiral Garp, complete with his carefree grin.
"Yo! Kong! Been a while. What's with the grumpy face?" Garp asked, leaning back in his chair, munching on a rice cracker.
Kong didn't hesitate. "Garp, where is my grandson?!"
Garp blinked. "Zino? Huh. Last I heard, he tagged along with some squad to take down some small-time pirates. The group he went with seemed reliable. Weak pirates, strong team. He should be back soon."
"Back soon?" Kong leaned forward, teeth gritted. "He's been missing for ten days, Garp. No contact, no report. That 'reliable' team of yours vanished off the map!"
Garp scratched his head. "Wait… really?" He turned his head and shouted, "Hey, Bogard! Have you heard anything about Zino's squad?"
A tick mark pulsed on Kong's forehead. "You don't even know where he is, do you?!"
Garp turned back a moment later, his tone a little less casual. "Well, looks like the report's true. They've been out of contact for a while."
Kong exploded. "GARP!! You let my grandson wander off without backup?! That boy is not ready to handle the Grand Line, let alone lead a mission alone!"
"Whoa, whoa, calm down!" Garp said, distancing the dial away from his ear. He then said, "Zino's not some weakling. He's got potential. He's headstrong, yeah, but that runs in the family, doesn't it?"*
"This is no time for jokes, Garp. If anything happens to him—"
"Relax, I'll head out and find him myself." Garp leaned forward now, his expression more serious. "I'll make it a personal mission. He's family, after all."
Kong took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotion building inside him. As a grandfather, he cared deeply for the boy. Zino was his only grandson—the last direct bloodline of his family.
"He followed you to East Blue, Garp. That makes this your responsibility. You'd better bring him back."
"I will. Promise," Garp said with a small nod. "You know me, Kong. I may not always follow the rules, but I never break a promise to a friend."
Kong sat back down with a long sigh as the Den Den Mushi returned to its neutral form. He stared at the device in silence for a long moment.
"Zino… what in the world have you gotten yourself into?" he murmured.
Outside the Commander's office, the marine officer who delivered the report exhaled in relief. He had survived one of the most intimidating men in the world—and now the search for Monkey D. Zino was about to begin.
...
A day later.
The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden rays over the endless stretch of blue ocean. A single raft, crudely built from salvaged wooden planks and rope, floated slowly across the calm waters. Balanced atop it was a young man with determined eyes and wind-swept hair—Monkey D. Zino.
With both palms raised forward, Zino was channeling a light current of wind in a fixed direction, forming a small but steady wind propeller at the rear of the raft. The wind wasn't strong by any means, but it was enough to keep the raft moving forward without relying entirely on manual paddling.
Sweat dotted his brow as he focused, his breathing slow and steady. Controlling the air had proven far more difficult than he initially expected. It drained his stamina more than any physical training he'd ever undergone. His body ached, his arms trembled slightly, and his legs felt numb from sitting in one position for too long.
"Alright... that's enough for now," he muttered, releasing the wind from his hands. With an exhausted sigh, Zin collapsed onto the wooden surface of the raft, stretching his arms wide and staring up at the sky. His stomach rumbled faintly—he had already finished the last of his preserved rations earlier in the day. His throat felt dry, and his limbs heavy.
"How long is this going to take?" he grumbled, closing his eyes for a moment. "At this rate, I'll turn into a dried-up fish before I find any land..."
Just as he was about to doze off from exhaustion, something caught his eye. A dark shape appeared in the far distance on the horizon, contrasting against the glimmering sea.
"…Wait... is that… land?" Zino sat up quickly, squinting as he leaned forward.
His eyes widened with excitement. It was land—an island, slowly becoming more visible through the haze. Trees, cliffs, and shoreline began to take form the closer he looked.
"It really is land!" Zino exclaimed, newfound energy surging through his weary body. "Finally!"
Without hesitation, he grabbed the long wooden plank he had been using as a makeshift paddle and began rowing with renewed vigor. The wind was no longer needed; adrenaline alone was enough to drive him forward now. Each stroke brought him closer to safety, to solid ground, and possibly food and shelter.
The island grew larger with each passing minute. White sand beaches stretched across the shoreline, with palm trees swaying gently under the sea breeze. After nearly twenty minutes of nonstop rowing, the raft finally touched the edge of the beach.
Zino stumbled off, his legs unsteady, and fell onto the warm sand face first. For a moment, he just lay there, letting the soft grains cushion his body. Then he flipped over, breathing heavily as he stared up at the sky again.
"Ah... I made it," he muttered with a tired smile. "Finally, I can relax for a bit... What a long journey."
Zino lay motionless on the warm sand, the exhaustion of his journey finally catching up with him. His breathing slowed, and before he even realized it, sleep overcame him. It wasn't surprising—he had been pushing his limits since the moment he woke up adrift at sea, using his Devil Fruit power continuously, day and night, just to reach land.
As he slept under the afternoon sun, two shadows quietly approached from the edge of the forest. Both were scruffy men, pirates judging by their ragged clothes and cruel smiles. One carried a large sack while the other held coils of rope. They moved with practiced stealth, careful not to make a sound.
Without hesitation, they wrapped the sleeping Zino in the sack, cinching it tightly with the ropes. Zino stirred briefly, but his body was too drained to resist. By the time he fully realized what was happening, he was already being hoisted onto one of their shoulders like a sack of potatoes.
"Hey! Let me go—!" he shouted, struggling inside the sack.
"Quiet, brat!" barked one of the men, giving the sack a firm smack.
Zino twisted and kicked inside, but it was no use. He couldn't see where they were taking him, only that they were running for a while before suddenly coming to a halt.
Then, without warning—
*Thud!*
"Ungh!" Zino grunted as he was tossed carelessly onto a wooden floor. Pain shot through his back as he landed hard.
"Captain Alvida, we caught a boy at the beach!" one of the kidnappers announced proudly.
Zino's ears perked up. *Alvida? Did he just say... Captain Alvida?* he thought, realization dawning on him. That meant he had landed in Alvida's territory—one of the pirate-controlled areas of East Blue.
A female voice replied, sharp and commanding, "Good. Let's see how he looks. Open the sack."
The ropes were hastily untied, and the sack peeled open. Zino squinted against the sudden light and found himself surrounded by rough-looking pirates—and standing in front of them was a tall, broad woman with a giant iron club resting on her shoulder. Her face was stern, and her eyes narrowed when they landed on him.
"A marine?" Alvida muttered, scowling as she took in Zino's uniform.
A cold silence filled the air.
"You idiots!" she roared, turning on the two pirates who had brought him. "Are you trying to get yourselves killed by bringing a marine onto my ship?!"
"S-sorry, Captain! We didn't know!" one of them stammered, bowing repeatedly.
"Yeah! He was sleeping at the beach! We thought he was a castaway!" the other added nervously.
"Shut your mouths!" Alvida snapped, swinging her massive iron club in a wide arc.
*CRACK!*
The two men were sent flying several meters, crashing into barrels and crates with pained cries.
Turning back to Zino, Alvida's eyes glinted with menace. "A marine, huh? I can't let you leave here alive. You'll be fish food soon enough."
Without waiting for a response, she raised her club and brought it down with a roar, aiming straight for Zino's head!