Meanwhile…
On the sea ten nautical miles from Iron Fang Island.
A Marine warship flying the seagull flag cleaved through the waves, advancing slowly.
On the deck, the sea wind howled.
A silver-haired man in a coat emblazoned with the word "Justice" leaned against the rail.
Two cigars jutted from his mouth; thick smoke blurred his features, leaving only a pair of hawk-sharp eyes visible.
Marine Headquarters Captain, "White Hunter" Smoker.
"Captain Smoker."
A Marine hurried over and snapped to attention, looking nervous.
"Hm?"
Smoker exhaled a cloud of smoke, his voice low and hoarse, like sandpaper scraping wood.
"We're nearly out of fresh water and meat, sir. The cook recommends resupplying as soon as possible."
The soldier swallowed and went on, "The navigator confirms the nearest island is straight ahead Iron Fang Island."
"Iron Fang Island…"
Smoker narrowed his eyes, drumming his fingers on the rail in a steady rhythm.
"That so-called 'money pit'?"
"Yes, Captain!"
Sweat beaded on the soldier's forehead. After a moment's hesitation, he pressed on, "But… according to Intelligence, it's territory controlled by one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, Donquixote Doflamingo's family. If we dock there, we might…"
"Might what?"
Smoker whipped his head around; cold light flashed from eyes hidden behind the smoke.
The soldier flinched, instinctively stepping back.
"Start a diplomatic incident? Or are you afraid of offending that flamingo in human skin?"
Smoker sneered, plucked the cigars from his mouth, and crushed them out on the rail.
"Don't make me laugh."
"Pirates are pirates. Dress them in a government cloak and their blood is still filthy."
He straightened, his tall frame casting a shadow across the deck.
"If we need water, we take it. If some trash gets in our way, we clean it up."
The salty wind swept the deck but couldn't dispel the irritation in Smoker's heart.
He clamped the cigars between two thick fingers and took a hard drag, filling his lungs with acrid smoke to smother the anger in his chest.
In his hand, he crumpled a transfer order into a ball.
"Loguetown… the town of beginnings and endings?"
Smoker snorted, clenched his fist, and the letter disintegrated into dust that scattered on the wind.
"Sticking me at some retirement post to guard the door? The old fools at Headquarters must have porridge for brains."
He slammed the rail with his fist; the special alloy bent with a grating shriek, leaving a deep dent.
Nearby Marines held their breath, shrinking back.
Everyone knew Captain Smoker was in a foul mood.
"Captain…"
First Lieutenant Tashigi, cradling her katana "Shigure," adjusted her glasses and approached cautiously.
"Master Zephyr means well. Loguetown is the throat of the Grand Line; only a Headquarters Captain of your strength can keep those reckless rookies in check."
"Spare me the official line."
Smoker turned; white smoke coiled around him like a volcano about to erupt.
"They think I'm disobedient, always chasing pirates with connections and making trouble."
He blew a smoke ring, his eyes gloomy.
"If justice has to watch whose toes it steps on, it's no justice at all."
Tashigi opened her mouth but found no reply.
On these murky seas, Captain Smoker was a stubborn, jagged rock awkward to hold, but the purest kind.
Just then, the lookout yanked the alarm.
Woo!!!
The shrill siren shattered the deck's silence.
"Report, Captain! Abnormal situation ahead!"
The lookout's voice, amplified, carried undisguised panic.
"Direction: Iron Fang Island… massive smoke columns! Huge fire it looks like an attack!"
Smoker's eyes sharpened. He strode to the bow and snatched the telescope from a soldier.
In the lens…
The once-flourishing money pit, Iron Fang Island, now resembled a living hell.
Billowing black smoke almost blotted out half the sky.
The harbor lay in ruins; broken piers jutted from the sea amid drifting planks… and corpses.
Even at this distance, Smoker could feel the reek of carnage.
The wind carried a sickening stench of scorched flesh against the white sails.
Smoker bit down on his cigars.
Through the telescope, a bizarre object suddenly shot out of the smoke above the island.
"What… is that?"
The lookout beside him nearly dropped his logbook, his voice trembling.
Smoker said nothing, only tightening his grip on the telescope until it creaked.
The spinning object drew closer, accompanied by ragged panting.
It was a fat man.
Neck and limbs whirled like propellers in a frantic escape.
On his back lay a blood-soaked woman, unconscious or worse.
"Donquixote Family officers Buffalo and Baby 5."
Smoker exhaled a cloud that instantly condensed into a gigantic fist behind him.
"Perfect. Saves me a trip to the island."
"White Punch!"
With a low shout, the smoke fist shot forward like a cannonball, straight at the pair.
A direct hit could dent steel.
Yet in mid-air, Buffalo looked like a spooked animal.
"Out of my way! Don't block me!"
Buffalo shrieked, all the swagger of a Warlord officer gone.
He forcibly broke his spin, muscles tearing, and lurched sideways more than ten meters.
The smoke fist grazed him and smashed into the sea, sending up a towering waterspout.
Smoker's brows knitted.
Something was off.
There was no fight in those eyes only terror.
The raw dread of prey at the end of its leash.
"Marines! I'm not fighting you don't stop me!"
Sweat poured off Buffalo; his ragged haircut made him look both ridiculous and pathetic.
He clutched the unconscious Baby 5, dared not even glance at the warship below, and whirled desperately away from Iron Fang Island.
"He… he's trembling?"
Tashigi ran up, katana in hand, staring at the fleeing figure in bewilderment.
The Donquixote Family swaggered across the New World.
What could scare them like this?
So badly they'd flee a Marine Headquarters Captain without even raising a hand?