"Let her in."
A hoarse voice carried down from behind the thick wooden door at the end of the second-floor hallway.
It was a voice roughened by years of cigars, now tinged with an unusual weakness.
Isuka asked no further questions, striding quickly up the stairs in her wet boots.
The sound of heavy leather striking the wooden steps echoed through the empty building, each footfall unnervingly loud.
Pushing the door open, she found the room free of its usual choking haze of smoke.
The window was left half-open, letting in a damp, cold breeze that had cleared the air.
Smoker sat in the heavy shadows behind his desk, without his signature lit cigars in his mouth.
He leaned back in his chair, his fingertips unconsciously tracing a deep crack at the corner of the wood.
Under the dim overhead light, Isuka could clearly see his face.
Across the cheekbone of that perpetually disdainful face sat an ugly bruise, and on the side of his neck lay a frightening red mark—looking exactly as if struck by the blunt back of an extremely fast blade.
Isuka's breath caught, and her hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of her sword.
"Stop staring. I'm not dead." Smoker shot her a heavy glance, pulling a slightly damp cigar from a drawer.
He placed it between his lips but didn't light it. "I just got taught a lesson. I learned there's always someone stronger."
"Who?" Isuka's voice tightened with anger. "A pirate of that level exists in the East Blue? Did they retreat from the Grand Line?"
"A pirate?"
Smoker let out a harsh, cold laugh, as if he'd just heard a ridiculous joke.
He toyed with the silver lighter in his hand, the sharp sound of the metal lid snapping open and shut piercing the quiet room.
"It was a Marine trainee. A rookie who hasn't even been commissioned yet."
Isuka's beautiful eyes widened instantly. "You're joking! Even if it was some monster personally raised by Headquarters, it's impossible..."
"Zaraki." Smoker uttered the name, his tone complex—a heavy mix of anger, resentment, and raw frustration.
Smoker pointed to his own bruised neck, his gaze darkening. "At that exact moment, I used elementalization. But he caught me off guard with haki."
Haki.
That term was practically did not exist in the East Blue.
Isuka had only heard of it in training manuals. In the weakest sea, Logia users were considered invincible gods.
But now, that ironclad common sense had been shattered to pieces.
"And I suspect that kid is even more than that." Smoker finally lit the cigar, taking a deep breath to let the thick smoke soothe the burning pain in his lungs.
"He completely predicted my movements. That look in his eyes... fighting him felt like watching slow motion movie."
"Dual... dual-colored Haki?!"
Isuka felt her throat go dry.
She couldn't help but take half a step back, her heel bumping hard against the doorframe.
If it was true, that rookie named Zaraki was a monster, unbelievably strong even before officially becoming a Marine!
And he was around her age?
It felt way too unreal, her mind reeling in shock.
"Don't act like you've never seen the world, Isuka," Smoker said, watching the swirling smoke drift out the window.
His gaze seemed to pierce straight through the wall, seeing that lazily smiling boy standing on the deck.
"That guy's a freak. And he also took care of someone else out there."
Smoker paused, looking meaningfully at Isuka.
"Portgas D. Ace."
Hearing that name, Isuka's body trembled.
She rushed right to the desk, slamming both hands heavily on the surface and causing Smoker's coffee cup to jump!
"What did you say?!"
Her voice became sharp and urgent. "That bastard... I mean, that Fire Fist! He was beaten by Zaraki?! Where is he? Is he alive or dead? Was he taken in?"
Her face flushed bright red, her eyes swirling with pure panic.
'How is that possible... That guy is always grinning like an idiot, and he's strong as a monster! How could he lose?'
'And to a rookie Marine I've never even heard of?'
'If he fell into the Marine's hands...'
Smoker narrowed his eyes, watching his subordinate completely lose her composure through the haze of smoke.
Pricked by that sharp, knowing gaze, Isuka snapped back to reality.
She stiffly withdrew her hands from the desk, her eyes darting around as she tried to cover up her desperate reaction.
"Ahem... What I mean is, he's prey I've been tracking for a long time." She turned her head away, her voice dropping low, tinged with feigned annoyance.
"If some unknown rookie snatched my credit, I'd be pissed. That's all."
"Don't worry, he wasn't captured."
Smoker leaned back in his chair again, deciding not to call out his subordinate's clumsy acting.
"Word is, they fought. Ace lost hard, but Zaraki didn't seem interested in capturing him—instead, he just let him go. Hmph, that's why I say the kid's a freak. He doesn't play by our rules at all."
Hearing the words "wasn't captured," Isuka's tense shoulders visibly slumped.
She let out a long, heavy sigh, her whole body relaxing before she quickly realized her reaction was way too obvious.
She forced a stern expression and covered it with a loud cough.
"It's good he wasn't captured... No, I mean, even if he wasn't captured, I can still catch him myself! A dangerous guy like that can't be allowed to run wild on the seas!"
Though her words sounded harsh, the restless look in her eyes now held a warm trace of relief. As long as he was alive, as long as he was still out at sea—even if he lost once—Ace would definitely get back up.
"Don't get too happy yet, Isuka."
Smoker suddenly crushed the half-smoked cigar in his hand and stood up.
His tall, broad shadow loomed over her, carrying a renewed, heavy sense of pressure.
He walked to the window, watching the rain outside grow heavier. The scar on his face looked terrifying under the sudden flash of lightning.
"That Zaraki guy is ridiculously strong, but his slash woke me up. The easy days relying on a Devil Fruit power are over." Smoker clenched his fist, his arm instantly turning into thick white smoke before solidifying again, looking harder and denser than before.
"Next time we meet, I won't lose again!"
Isuka watched her captain's back and felt a heavy wave of relief.
The familiar, unyielding Smoker was finally back!
"So, you didn't call me back just to hear you complain, right?" Isuka composed herself, returning to her usual efficient, professional demeanor.
"Of course not."
Smoker turned around, his gaze turning sharp. "In two days, it'll be that day."
A thunderclap exploded outside the window, its stark white light illuminating the entire room.
Loguetown, the town that witnessed the Pirate King's birth and death, was now shrouded in dark, rolling clouds.
"Every year around this time, the trash of these seas gathers here like flies." Smoker's voice dropped as cold as ice.
"I want you to clean them out. Every last one of those fools who don't know when to quit."
"No problem. I'll make sure those pieces of trash who want to soak up some luck where the legend began learn what regret feels like." Isuka agreed readily, tapping her scabbard lightly with a finger. A hint of slyness appeared on her serious face.
"But since I'm helping with patrol, it wouldn't be too much for me to stop by the Matsuyuki Weapons Shop in town on the way, right? The owner promised to hold onto that handguard rapier I had my eye on last time."
As she spoke, she pulled her leather gloves back on, her tone revealing a much greater eagerness for buying new equipment than for catching pirates.
Smoker exhaled a puff of white smoke and waved his hand impatiently, signaling her to leave quickly.
The door closed again, plunging the office back into a dead silence, broken only by the sound of pounding rain.
Smoker didn't rest immediately.
His hand pulled out a photo buried at the bottom of a stack of reports.
It had just been delivered by a News Coo.
The image was blurry, clearly taken from a high altitude.
The subject of the photo was a ship sailing right at the edge of a violent storm, heading directly toward Loguetown.
And right beneath the sea surface beside the ship, there was a massive, dark shadow.
"What is this..."
Smoker furrowed his brow, bringing the photo closer to the desk lamp.
Though blurry, the shadow looked terrifyingly large—almost several times the size of the ship itself!
'Was it a reef? Or some kind of unseen submarine ship?'
Beside the blurry black spot, there seemed to be a human standing on it.
Smoker stared intently at the small black dot, trying to discern what it was, but after staring for a long time, all he accomplished was making his eyes ache.
"Tch, the News Coos' photography skills are getting worse these days." He tossed the photo back onto the table in annoyance, leaning back in his chair.
He needed to conserve his raw energy before this special day arrived.
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