Turns out, going on an adventure using official funds wasn't easy.
Smoker was stationed in Loguetown, and he couldn't leave his post without legitimate reasons.
Until he found an excuse to leave, he was stuck there.
So he waited. His life soon fell into a rhythm. The days blurred together, each one feeling like a repeat of the last.
Smoker woke up, walked the same hallways, and sat behind the same desk.
Sometimes he handed out random orders, just to see what would happen.
No one questioned him.
They didn't have to. He was Captain Smoker.
Civilians moved out of his way. Marines followed his commands. He had strength, authority, and respect.
He was the king of Loguetown.
But inside, he was tired.
He hadn't come to this world, just to sit around doing paperwork. Like Akainu.
He'd already spent years, trapped behind a desk doing nothing. Like Dragon.
When he found himself in a new world, he'd thought things would be different. He would do something worth a second chance!
But here he was again, stuck in routine.
Every morning, Tashigi entered with a nervous expression, bringing him today's reports.
Unfortunately, her reports were always the same.
Dock complaints. A few minor pirate sightings. Nothing important.
Everything was monotonous.
It felt like a redundant conference call—people rambling just to fill the silence.
Then, one morning, everything changed.
Tashigi entered his office, a notice clutched in her hands. There was something different in her voice.
"Captain," she said, "a message just came in from Marine Headquarters. It's a voluntary dispatch."
Smoker looked up. "Voluntary?"
"Yes, sir. There's unrest forming in the Alabasta Kingdom. Some people are starting to turn against the king."
"Nothing major yet, but Headquarters wants Marines stationed there."
"They're not sending anyone directly. The post is open to volunteers."
She placed the document on his desk.
Smoker leaned back and read it. A simple notice:
Unrest in Alabasta
Assistance requested
Priority: Low
Voluntary deployment
Officer discretion
No orders—just an invitation.
In the original story, Smoker hadn't gone to Alabasta until Luffy appeared. Maybe that version of him had seen this notice and ignored it.
But this version?
He wasn't about to sit around for another year waiting for something to happen.
Watching time slip by while doing nothing wasn't how he wanted to spend his second life.
This was his chance to move. A reason to leave Loguetown.
He tapped the paper and looked up.
"Prepare the warship."
Tashigi blinked. "Sir?"
"I'm taking the assignment."
"You mean, we're going to Alabasta?"
"Yeah. Pack your things. We leave tomorrow."
She straightened immediately, feeling nervous but also excited. "Understood!"
The next morning, his warship was ready— it was large, well-armed, and built for long voyages.
The sails were raised, and the crew lined up in neat rows.
Under a clear sky, they departed Loguetown quietly.
Smoker stood at the bow, coat fluttering over his bare chest, eyes fixed on the ocean ahead.
Tashigi moved across the deck, issuing orders and checking supplies. She didn't talk much, but the crew obeyed.
Clumsy or not, she got things done.
That afternoon, she joined Smoker at the bow, holding a folded map.
"Next stop is Reverse Mountain," she said.
"There's a temporary marine checkpoint there. We'll get an eternal log pose to Alabasta there."
Smoker nodded. "Good."
Reverse Mountain was a shortcut—but not an easy one.
At first, the sea was calm.
As they neared the mountainside, the waves began to shift. The current pulled harder, and the ship started to shake.
"Why is the sea going up the mountain!?" a sailor shouted, grabbing a barrel.
"Is that waterfall flowing upwards? How is this normal!?" another yelled.
The warship was dragged up the mountain, climbing the waterfall like a vertical wave. Walls of water crashed in from all sides.
"Brace for the top!" Tashigi shouted.
Everyone held on.
At the peak of Reverse Mountain, everything went still. The sea quieted. Even the wind paused.
Then they dropped.
The ship plunged straight down the other side—right into the Grand Line.
And everything changed.
The clouds looked different. The wind felt humid. The sea carried a strange sensation, almost welcoming.
This wasn't one of the Blues.
This was the Grand Line.
Smoker took a long drag from his cigar. After crossing Reverse Mountain, he felt much more relaxed.
At the base, a small Marine checkpoint awaited them.
A young officer stepped forward, holding out a log pose. "Alabasta is southwest," he said.
"You'll pass a few islands on the way. The weather's unpredictable, so, good luck."
Smoker took the log pose without a word and returned to the ship.
They sailed on without delay.
Each day brought a new island.
One had an active volcano rising from the center of a jungle. Another looked like a massive stone cactus.
The crew excitedly discussed the sights. Their behavior was unprofessional—but Smoker didn't mind.
He enjoyed the scenery just as much.
Unfortunately, duty came first when traveling on an official budget. Alabasta was the priority.
At last, land appeared—a vast stretch of yellow sand.
Alabasta.
The air was dry, the kind that sucked moisture from your skin. The sky was clear and cloudless.
They were close.
Smoker stood at the bow, arms crossed, watching the desert grow larger.
He didn't know if coming here was smart. He knew from the story that Crocodile—the legalized Warlord—was behind the rebellion.
And Crocodile wouldn't appreciate Marine interference.
Still, it had to be better than paperwork.
Tashigi stepped beside him, log pose in hand. "We should reach the harbor by noon."
Smoker grunted. "Good."
She hesitated. "Do you think we should've come here? I mean, this is Crocodile's territory."
Smoker didn't look away. "Who knows," he said. "But I was dying of boredom back there."
Tashigi laughed softly. "I see."
They stood side by side as the coastline drew nearer.
High above them, a shadow circled the ship.
A vulture.
It looped through the sky again and again.
If you looked closely, you'd notice something strange—it wore a tiny hat and dark sunglasses.
Smoker watched it for a moment, then twitched his lips. "That's not a normal vulture."
Tashigi squinted upward. "Really? You think it's watching us?"
"Yeah," he said, eyes narrowing. "Feels like it."
The bird wasn't searching for food. It kept circling them—specifically.
"This could be connected to the rebellion," he added. "Or maybe it's just a weird bird."
"But something tells me it isn't."
Smoker's thoughts moved.
He was certain of one thing, he'd seen that bird before.
And it wasn't just a scavenger. It had a purpose.