Location: Las Camp, West Blue
Date: Sea Era 1519
The air in the West Blue didn't smell of salt it smelled of gunpowder, expensive tobacco and the cold iron of industrial machines.
Las Camp was a city of neon lights reflecting off rain-slicked cobblestones a place where the Marines were merely another gang paying protection money to the Five Families.
It was a sea governed by subterranean rules, a perfect environment for testing Buggy's new protocols under Ayanokoji's cold oversight.
"The objective is simple, Buggy"
I said
Leaning against the damp brickwork of a silent warehouse.
My Observation Haki was mapped to the building across the street the headquarters of a mid-level syndicate currently resisting our 'merger'
"You walk in. You perform the 'Legend.' You walk out with their shipping manifests. No more, no less."
Buggy straightened his flamboyant captain's coat, his red nose twitching with a mix of terror and greed.
He looked at the guards stationed at the entrance, men with scarred faces and heavy-caliber rifles.
"And if they shoot? These guys aren't East Blue chumps! They use sea-prism stone bullets sometimes, or so the rumors say!"
"Then you split,"
Ayanokoji said
his voice coming from the shadows behind Buggy.
He held a small, black notebook—the growing ledger of our empire.
"I have calculated the firing arcs of the guards in the lobby. If you detach your torso by exactly twelve inches at the sound of the first click, the probability of injury is less than 0.03%. I have also accounted for the wind speed and the recoil of their specific weapon models. If you fail, it will be due to your own lack of rhythm, and I will simply find a more competent face for the logistics division."
Buggy gulped, looking at Ayanokoji's hollow, amber eyes.
He feared the Marines but he feared Ayanokoji's clinical indifference far more.
"Right. Flashy efficiency. I've got it. Just... keep that big guy close by, okay?"
As Buggy kicked open the double doors, screaming about his "hidden history" with the Pirate King and his status as a legendary survivor of the Grand Line, I turned to the massive silhouette leaning against the crates.
Jaguar D. Black was cleaning his blackened staff, his presence alone enough to dampen the sound of the city's chaos.
He looked like a mountain that had decided to go for a stroll.
"You're putting a lot of faith in a clown and a boy who doesn't feel, lad"
Black grunted, his voice like grinding stones.
"I'm not putting faith in them, Black. I'm putting faith in the Logic"
I replied
I felt my Conqueror's Haki hum under my skin, a cold current waiting to be released.
"Buggy is the noise the colorful distraction that occupies the enemy's senses.
Ayanokoji is the signal the invisible force that actually changes the environment.
While the Five Families are busy trying to figure out why a legendary Roger Pirate is shaking them down for trade routes, we're going to be in the back-end, pulling the real strings."
"The back-end?"
Black asked, eyebrow raised.
"The Ohara Files,"
I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"I know where the Mafia families are hiding the fragments of forbidden data they've been hoarding since the Buster Call. They think it's just valuable antiquity to be traded for gold. I know it's the blueprint for the world's first global communication blackout. If we control the flow of information, we control the world."
Inside the building, gunfire erupted, followed quickly by the sound of Buggy's hysterical, high-pitched laughter echoing through the halls.
A moment later, the screaming started not from pain but from the sheer psychological terror of Ayanokoji systematically dismantling the guards' joints with the precision of a surgeon, moving so fast he was little more than a blur in the neon light.
"The West Blue is a series of fragmented servers,"
I continued, looking at the dark horizon where the sea met the smog.
"Once Buggy absorbs the Five Families into our delivery network, we won't just move goods. We'll move the truth. And when we're ready, we'll shut down the World Government's ability to talk to itself."
Ayanokoji stepped out of the building minutes later, his shirt perfectly crisp, carrying a heavy stack of leather-bound ledgers.
Buggy followed behind him, floating his head three feet above his body to look more "intimidating" though his hands were still visibly shaking as he tucked a cigar into his mouth to look the part of a mob boss.
"The West Blue logistics are 20% integrated,"
Ayanokoji reported, handing me a file.
"The Mafia families have agreed to 'invest' in our delivery service. The cost was minimal: three broken ribs and a shattered ego for their Don. He is now convinced that working for Buggy is his only path to survival."
"Good"
I said, taking the ledgers and feeling the weight of the data within.
"Tell the crew to prepare for a long voyage. We've finished the infrastructure phase. It's time to go to the South Blue and find our King."
Black stood up, the ground trembling slightly under his weight as he shouldered his staff.
"The boy with the fire?"
"No,"
I said, my eyes flashing with a glimpse of a Future that was still three years away.
"The boy with the fire is the shield.
The King is someone the world hasn't noticed yet.
Someone who has lost everything and is ready to be rebuilt from the scrap upward."
I looked at the map.
The system was growing, one sea at a time. The West was ours.
Now, it was time to find the face of the revolution in the industrial graveyard of the South.