Morning sunlight washed over the bustling streets of the Flower Capital.
Paper lanterns swayed gently in the breeze. Merchants opened their wooden storefronts, arranging fresh produce and colorful fabrics to attract early customers. Moving through the wide cobblestone avenues, citizens traded local gossip.
A distinct rumor dominated the morning conversations.
Whispering quietly near a vegetable stall, a group of elderly women discussed the recent thefts. Ushimitsu Kozo, the infamous 'Witching Hour Boy', had struck again during the night. Stealing heavy boxes of gold from a corrupt government official, the elusive thief had scattered the wealth across the impoverished Ebisu Town before dawn.
Blending into this flow of daily life, the secret allies of the Kouzuki family moved with purpose.
Scattered across the capital, samurai bearing crescent moon tattoos on their ankles received small, folded pieces of paper. Slipping the notes into their sleeves, the loyal retainers unrolled the secret messages in private.
The paper contained a simple, strange drawing. It showed a flame, a pair of birds, and a snake wrapped around a bridge.
To an outsider, the drawing looked like nonsense. To the loyalists waiting twenty years for a signal, the meaning became instantly clear. Kin'emon had delivered the call to arms. The Fire Festival would serve as the battleground. The rebellion was finally starting. Nodding silently, the samurai burned the paper scraps and began sharpening their hidden blades.
In a busy market square near the center of the capital, a massive line of customers snaked around the block.
A small, wooden food cart sat on the corner. Steam rose steadily from two large boiling pots. The smell of rich broth and fresh buckwheat noodles drifted through the air, drawing a crowd entirely composed of blushing, giggling women.
Operating the cart with flawless precision, Sanji worked the kitchen.
He possessed neat, raven-black hair parted sharply on the side. Silver-framed glasses rested perfectly on his nose. Wearing a pristine white kimono with blue stitching.
Flipping a batch of noodles out of the boiling water with a bamboo strainer, the cook plated the meal in one smooth motion. Adding a precise ladle of hot broth and a sprinkle of chopped green onions, he handed the bowl to the next customer.
"Here is your order, my beautiful lady," Sanji said smoothly, adjusting his glasses.
Swooning instantly, the female customer took the bowl. "Thank you, Sangoro-san! You are so handsome!"
Tucking the payment into a small wooden box, the cook offered a charming smile. The disguise hid his usual curly eyebrows, but it did not hide his devotion to female customers.
Sitting on small wooden stools behind the cart, three disguised pirates ate their own bowls of soba.
Slurping loudly, Franky swallowed an entire bowl of noodles in three seconds. The shipwright looked like Yasutora Sado, possessing dark, shaggy brown hair and a tanned, muscular build. Wearing a heavy, dark gi, he took up the space of two normal men.
"This broth is super!" Franky cheered, setting the empty bowl down. "Give me another one, bro!"
Sitting next to the giant, Usopp struggled with a pair of chopsticks. The sniper's appearance had shifted to match Renji Abarai. Bright crimson hair tied into a spiky ponytail stuck up awkwardly. Dark, jagged tattoos covered his forehead and collarbone.
"This red hair stands out too much," Usopp complained, pulling at his rough, gray kimono. "Ben gave me a disguise that makes me look like a delinquent. The city guards keep staring at me."
Taking a delicate sip of her broth, Robin smiled serenely. The archaeologist wore a dark purple kimono. Her black hair fell forward into a single, thick braid resting over her chest, perfectly mimicking Retsu Unohana.
"You look very intimidating, Usopp," Robin noted, her calm voice carrying a slightly terrifying undertone. "It suits a brave warrior of the sea."
Puffing his chest out slightly, the sniper adjusted his posture. "Well, I suppose it does look a bit fierce. I can handle a few guards."
The peaceful breakfast shattered a moment later.
Pushing violently through the line of waiting women, three large, unsavory men marched toward the soba cart. They wore matching dark yukatas and carried curved swords tucked into their sashes. Their faces bore the sneering, arrogant expressions of local enforcers.
The Kyoshiro Family thugs.
Reaching the front of the cart, the lead thug kicked a small wooden sign advertising the noodle prices. The sign splintered against the cobblestones.
"Hey, noodle boy," the thug barked, crossing his arms. "Who gave you permission to open a stall on our turf? You are cutting into our protection racket."
Ignoring the interruption, Sanji continued slicing a fresh block of buckwheat dough. The sharp knife tapped rhythmically against the cutting board.
"I am talking to you, four-eyes!" the thug yelled, slamming his hand onto the counter. "You owe the Kyoshiro Family fifty percent of your daily earnings. Hand over the cashbox right now, or we smash this cart to pieces."
Pausing his knife, the cook pushed his silver glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"I am currently serving customers," Sanji stated coldly, not looking up from the cutting board. "Wait in the back of the line like everyone else, or leave. You are bothering the ladies."
Insulted by the calm dismissal, the three thugs drew their swords halfway out of their scabbards.
Before the thugs could strike, a small boy walked up to the side of the cart. The child wore a patched, dirty kimono. Holding a few crumpled coins in his small hands, he looked up at the cook with wide, hungry eyes.
"Excuse me," the little boy asked quietly. "Can I buy a bowl of soba?"
Looking down at the child, Sanji's cold expression softened instantly. Putting the knife down, he grabbed an empty bowl. "Of course. Coming right up."
Snarling in anger, the lead thug turned toward the interruption. Raising his booted foot, he kicked the little boy squarely in the chest.
The child flew backward, dropping his coins. Hitting the hard cobblestones, the boy scraped his knees and elbows. The coins scattered into the street gutter.
"Nobody buys anything until we get paid!" the thug roared, pointing his sword at the fallen child.
Silence dropped over the food cart.
The rhythmic chopping of the knife ceased. The bubbling of the hot broth seemed to mute itself.
Behind the cart, Franky set his empty bowl down very slowly. Usopp grabbed his gun, hiding it inside the sleeve of his rough kimono.
Sanji did not speak.
Moving with blinding, imperceptible speed, the cook vaulted over the wooden counter.
A heavy, dress shoe coated in raw physical power connected directly with the lead thug's jaw. The impact sounded like a cannon firing.
Bones shattered instantly. The thug lifted completely off his feet, spinning like a top through the air. Crashing headfirst into a stone wall twenty feet away, the enforcer slumped to the ground, entirely unconscious.
Drawing their swords in panic, the remaining two thugs stepped backward.
"He hit the boss!" one yelled, swinging his blade wildly.
Stepping out from behind the stools, Franky cracked his massive knuckles. The disguised shipwright did not bother with weapons or laser beams. Taking a single, heavy step forward, he threw a devastating right hook.
The punch caught the second thug in the stomach. The force folded the man in half, lifting him off the ground and dropping him into a pile of wooden crates.
Dropping his sword, the third thug looked at his defeated partners. Pure terror washed over his face. Turning on his heel, the enforcer sprinted down the street, running away as fast as his legs could carry him.
Adjusting his glasses calmly, Sanji smoothed the front of his pristine white kimono.
"Trash," the cook muttered.
Walking over to the fallen child, Sanji crouched down. Brushing the dirt from the boy's clothes, he inspected the scraped knees.
"Are you hurt?" Sanji asked gently.
Looking up at the cook, the little boy began to laugh.
"Ahahaha! It hurts! Ahahaha! They took my money! Ahahaha!"
The child cried, tears streaming down his face, but his mouth remained locked in a wide, uncontrollable grin. Harsh, continuous laughter poured from his lips despite the obvious pain and fear.
Standing nearby, Robin narrowed her dark eyes.
"A SMILE fruit defect," the archaeologist whispered to Usopp. "The intelligence reports from Ben mentioned this. The failed artificial Devil Fruits rob the eater of negative facial expressions. They can only laugh, even when suffering."
Grinding his teeth, Sanji looked at the laughing, crying child. The cruelty of Kaido's regime sickened him deeply.
Standing up, the cook walked back to the cart. Grabbing a fresh bowl, he filled it to the brim with hot broth, extra noodles, sliced pork, and a perfectly boiled egg. Walking back, he placed the massive meal into the boy's hands.
"This one is on the house," Sanji offered softly.
Taking the warm bowl, the boy wiped his tears. "Ahahaha! Thank you so much! Ahahaha! My name is Kagawa! Ahahaha! It looks so good!"
Sitting on a nearby crate, Kagawa ate the noodles eagerly, his laughter muffled only by the food.
"We need to move the cart," Franky suggested, watching the street. "That thug ran off to report us. The local yakuza will be back with reinforcements."
Nodding in agreement, Sanji began packing up the cooking supplies.
Across the capital, the fleeing thug burst through the sliding paper doors of a high-end brothel.
Sitting in a private room, Kyoshiro drank sake from a shallow red cup. The tall yakuza boss possessed a large pompadour and narrow, slitted eyes. Resting his katana across his lap, he looked irritated by the sudden intrusion.
"Boss Kyoshiro!" the thug panted, falling to his knees. "A noodle vendor! He beat up two of our guys! He refused to pay the protection fee!"
Taking a slow sip of sake, Kyoshiro set the cup down.
"A noodle vendor defeated my men?" Kyoshiro asked, his voice smooth and incredibly dangerous.
"He was strong, boss! Really fast!" the thug stammered.
Rubbing his chin, the yakuza boss considered the situation. Dealing with a rogue street vendor felt like a waste of his personal time, especially with the Fire Festival approaching and his duties to the Shogun demanding his attention.
"I will not waste my own family members on a street brawl," Kyoshiro decided, picking his sword up. "Contact Queen in Udon. Tell him someone is causing trouble in my territory. Have him send a few assassins from the Flying Six to crush this vendor. Make an example of him."
Bowing rapidly, the thug scrambled out of the room to make the call.
High above the capital, the Shogun's palace dominated the skyline.
Inside the most secure meeting room of the fortress, Kurozumi Orochi sat on a gilded throne. The Shogun wore an elaborate purple kimono, sipping premium sake from a gold cup. His large head and strange mustache gave him a cartoonish appearance, entirely masking the cruel, paranoid tyrant underneath.
Standing across from the throne, three figures wore tailored white suits and blank masks.
CP0. The elite intelligence agency of the World Government.
"The fall of Donquixote Doflamingo was an unfortunate incident," the lead agent, Joseph, stated smoothly. "The World Government still requires the weapons manufactured in your factories. We are here to negotiate a direct supply line, bypassing the underworld."
Swirling the sake in his cup, Orochi laughed. The sound grated against the walls.
"A direct supply line," the Shogun mocked. "You Marines and Government dogs think you can just march into Wano and demand weapons? Joker is gone. That means I hold all the cards now."
Leaning forward, Orochi slammed his gold cup onto the wooden table.
"I dictate the terms," the Shogun declared. "You want my weapons? You pay my price. I want battleships. I want sea-prism stone. And most importantly, I want Vegapunk."
The three masked agents stiffened.
"Dr. Vegapunk is the greatest scientific asset of the World Government," Joseph replied, his voice losing its diplomatic edge. "Handing him over to a pirate-controlled nation is impossible. The demand is absurd."
Orochi's face twisted in sudden anger.
Drawing a flintlock pistol from his robes with blinding speed, the Shogun pointed the barrel directly at the lead agent.
Bang.
The gunshot echoed loudly in the confined room.
The bullet struck Joseph in the shoulder. The impact threw the CP0 agent backward, sending him crashing onto the tatami mats. Blood stained the pristine white suit.
The other two agents did not draw their weapons. They stood still, their masks betraying no emotion, though the tension in the room spiked to lethal levels.
Blowing the smoke from the barrel of his pistol, Orochi laughed again.
"Do you know why I can shoot you?" the Shogun boasted, leaning back in his throne. "Do you know why the World Government cannot touch me? Because I have the backing of Kaido. If you declare war on Wano, you declare war on an Emperor. You will be annihilated."
Clutching his bleeding shoulder, Joseph struggled to a kneeling position. The agent did not yell or curse. He remained professional.
"Your arrogance is dangerous, Shogun," Joseph warned through gritted teeth. "You rely heavily on Kaido's protection. But you should be aware of the changing tides. Intelligence reports indicate the Straw Hat Pirates, the very crew that defeated Joker, are heading toward this country. They have a habit of dismantling tyrannical regimes."
Hearing the name, Orochi waved his hand dismissively.
"The Straw Hats?" Orochi scoffed, pouring himself another cup of sake. "Do not worry about those fools. They are already dead."
Underneath their blank masks, the CP0 agents blinked in surprise.
"Dead?" Joseph repeated, forcing himself to stand.
"They sneaked into Wano a few days ago," Orochi explained proudly. "They tried to hide in the ruins of Oden Castle on the mountain. My spies found them. Kaido flew out there himself. He used his Bolo Breath and turned the entire mountain peak into molten slag. The Straw Hats were blown to smithereens. Nothing left but ash."
The intelligence agents exchanged quick, silent glances. The information contradicted their primary assessments of the pirate crew's capabilities.
"If the transaction terms are unacceptable, you may leave," Orochi dismissed them, waving his hand toward the sliding doors. "But if you want weapons, you will bring me Vegapunk."
Bowing slightly, the uninjured agents helped Joseph to his feet. Without another word, the three members of CP0 exited the meeting room, leaving the arrogant Shogun to his drinks.
Navigating the winding corridors of the palace, the agents found a secure, soundproofed guest chamber. Locking the heavy wooden doors, they swept the room for listening devices. Finding none, one of the agents produced a specialized, white-shelled Den Den Mushi.
Dialing a heavily encrypted frequency, the snail connected directly to Mary Geoise.
The eyes of the snail opened, taking on an ancient, imposing appearance.
"Report," the voice of Saint Jaygarcia Saturn demanded through the speaker.
Standing at attention despite his bleeding shoulder, Joseph delivered the briefing. "The negotiations have stalled, Excellencies. The Shogun's demands are unreasonable. He requires the immediate transfer of Dr. Vegapunk in exchange for the weapon shipments."
A heavy sigh echoed over the line.
"The man is a fool blinded by Kaido's shadow," Saint Marcus Mars noted in the background. "We cannot surrender Vegapunk under any circumstances."
"There is another development," Joseph continued. "Orochi claims that Monkey D. Luffy and the Straw Hat Pirates infiltrated Wano. Furthermore, he claims Kaido personally annihilated them at the ruins of Oden Castle."
Silence hung over the encrypted connection.
Inside the Room of Authority in the Holy Land, the Five Elders exchanged serious glances.
"Blown to smithereens by a single attack?" Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro questioned, polishing his cursed sword. "Highly unlikely."
"I agree," Saint Topman Warcury rumbled. "That crew survived Thriller Bark and Dressrosa. They recently went toe-to-toe with Big Mom and destroyed her castle. A crew of that caliber does not simply die hiding in a ruined building."
"The boy has terrifying will power," Saturn stated, leaning heavily on his walking cane. "He possesses an uncanny ability to survive impossible odds. I do not believe he is dead. This smells like a deception."
The eyes of the Den Den Mushi narrowed as the Elders issued their final command.
"You are to remain in the Flower Capital," Saturn ordered the CP0 agents. "Do not return to Mary Geoise. Conduct a thorough, covert investigation of the Wano countryside. Confirm the kills. If the Straw Hats are truly dead, bring us concrete proof. If they are alive find an opportunity to kill them."
"Understood, Excellency," Joseph replied.
"Find the truth," Saturn finished, his voice cold and unforgiving. "The World Government cannot afford to be blind in Kaido's territory."
Clacha.
The connection severed. The white snail closed its eyes and went to sleep.
Binding his wounded shoulder tightly with medical gauze, Joseph looked at his two silent partners.
"We begin tonight," the lead agent ordered. "Sweep the capital. Listen to the local chatter. If the Straw Hats are alive, they will eventually cause a disturbance. We simply have to wait for them to reveal themselves."
Down in the bustling streets of the Flower Capital, the newly relocated soba stand continued to attract massive crowds, unaware of the assassins and spies currently hunting them.