New World, Hachinosu.
Hachinosu wasn't particularly large—small, really—but its position at the center of the New World made it lively and prosperous. At the heart of the island stood an enormous skull-shaped structure, which served as Ochoku's headquarters.
Though the island was widely acknowledged as the territory of the great pirate Ochoku, he didn't forbid other pirates from entering. As a pirate haven, Hachinosu welcomed all who wished to indulge—so long as they obeyed Ochoku's rules.
Inside the topmost structure of the giant skull, Ochoku was in the middle of a heated argument.
He looked to be in his fifties, a middle-aged man with the sharp, ruthless air fitting a great pirate. He wasn't particularly bulky, nor unusually tall—just over two meters at most. With a well-proportioned build and a sword hanging at his waist, he sat slouched in a chair with one foot atop a giant wine barrel, irritation etched plainly across his face as he glared at the man seated opposite him.
That man, in contrast, possessed overwhelming physical intimidation—at least four meters tall, upper body bare, muscles massive and knotted. His face was fierce, his presence wild in a way utterly different from Ochoku's cunning. A massive silver-white battleaxe rested beside his hand.
There was no mistaking him. This was another powerhouse once aboard the Rocks Pirates—Silver Axe.
Before their seats lay a Marine Lieutenant Commander, blood-soaked and collapsed on the floor. His breathing was faint, his injuries severe but not fatal.
Clearly, this wounded officer was the reason Ochoku and Silver Axe were arguing.
"How many times have I told you not to provoke anyone from G-5? And now you drag this man here—how the hell are we supposed to clean this up!?" Ochoku growled, downing a gulp of liquor before barking at Silver Axe.
Silver Axe shot him a vicious glare. "You bastard. Do you take me for one of your subordinates? Watch your tone when you talk to me!"
Ochoku's brows furrowed tightly, a murderous glint flashing in his eyes. "You looking for a fight, Silver Axe?"
"You think I'm scared of you?" Silver Axe grabbed the handle of his giant axe, staring Ochoku down with feral hostility.
Tension crackled through the room, the floor creaking under the pressure of their clashing auras.
After three to five minutes, Silver Axe abruptly released the axe and scratched his head in irritated frustration.
"It's not like I went looking for trouble! I was stepping out for some fresh air and ran into a merchant fleet that looked worth hitting. Before I even made a move, this guy jumps out of nowhere and attacks me with that pathetic swordsmanship of his… If he weren't G-5, I'd have killed him outright. Bringing him back here for you—wasn't that enough?"
The Lieutenant Commander weakly lifted his head. His gaunt, skeletal face hardly resembled the typical strong-featured Marine. Skin stretched taut over bone, he looked like a walking skeleton.
This was T. Bone, a member of Smoker's unit who had joined the Marines two years prior. He created his own upright sword style, earning the title "Ship Cutter." His character was as unyielding as his technique—a man who would draw his blade at the sight of injustice.
"You villains… Admiral Benn will wipe every last one of you out!" Bone spat through gritted teeth.
Before he could finish, a burst of Conqueror's Haki erupted from Ochoku, instantly knocking him unconscious.
Bone had been on leave, traveling to clear his mind. As his vacation ended, he boarded a merchant fleet returning to G-5. Mid-route, he encountered Silver Axe, who was out hunting for plunder. Knowing full well he was outmatched didn't stop Bone—he attacked immediately.
And… he was defeated in a single instant.
"Tch…" Ochoku clicked his tongue in irritation. "That rampaging bull isn't someone you want to provoke…"
"He's just a Marine Lieutenant Commander," Silver Axe scoffed. "You think that Benn guy will come after us over some low-level grunt? And besides, he's not even the G-5 Base Commander anymore!"
Silver Axe paused, then added with growing aggression,
"Besides, we're not pushovers. I've had it with those Navy bastards for ages. 'Heavenly Bull'? I'm not scared of him! If it comes to it, we'll wipe out the entire G-5 crew. That place is overflowing with spoils—fat and rich. Once we crush them, we'll break the stalemate and finally confront that treacherous hag Linlin head-on!"
Ochoku glanced at Bone, then at Silver Axe, frowning.
"Don't kill him yet. And for now, keep your eyes open. Watch G-5 and see if anything changes."
Though irritated, Ochoku couldn't deny Silver Axe had a point.
It was just a Marine Lieutenant Commander.
Would G-5 really start a war with Hachinosu over one minor officer?
Because if they did, the one who died wouldn't be just a Lieutenant Commander…
It would be war—true, full-scale war.
Not to mention, Silver Axe had said himself that he wiped out that entire merchant fleet without leaving a trace. In the New World, where the weather was bizarre and the seas unpredictable, people disappearing was hardly unusual. G-5 might not even think to look in this direction.
Maybe he really was worrying too much.
"Hmph, you've gotten far more timid than before." Silver Axe snorted, though he didn't object to Ochoku's instructions.
He called Ochoku cowardly, but honestly, if he thought about it… wasn't he the same?
Ever since the incident with Shiki, they had been holed up on Hachinosu for far too long. Their strength might not have weakened, but that fierce ambition from the old days had been worn down by time.
Silver Axe, thanks to his rough and explosive personality, still got the occasional itch to fight—but Ochoku? He only cared about hanging onto his small slice of territory.
According to him, patience was the plan. The New World might appear stable now, but every major figure here was overflowing with ambition. One day, they would all lose patience.
And when chaos returned to the New World—when the war for the throne broke out again—that would be Hachinosu's chance to rise once more.
...
Meanwhile, at the G-5 Marine Base.
In the office of Marine Headquarters Rear Admiral Smoker, he was staring at the attendance roster in his hands.
"Still no sign of Bone? He's been missing for seven days!" Smoker clenched three cigars between his teeth, smoke thick around his head, making it impossible for the subordinate seated across from him to see his expression. Yet his voice was already grave.
Smoker loved the atmosphere of G-5. He was also the type of Marine who valued his subordinates deeply. And Bone—he was the most promising Lieutenant Commander under his command, someone Smoker had high hopes for.
He believed that if Bone had a few more years to grow, his promotion to a senior officer was practically guaranteed.
And now? The man went on leave… and vanished.
It left Smoker extremely irritated. Something about this situation felt wrong.
He knew Bone well. The man was rigidly upright—a straight line of a human being—and that meant he was rigidly disciplined as well. Missing for seven days? Impossible. He never even showed up late.
"No updates," the Marine Ensign across from him answered shakily.
Smoker nodded, then turned toward a cabinet in his office. Opening it, he reached into a hidden compartment and pulled out a roster. When he flipped it open, it revealed sheet after sheet of Vivre Cards.
Smoker had created Vivre Cards for many of his subordinates. Only officers from the Captain rank and above received this privilege, of course.
Looking down at Bone's Vivre Card—half-burned—Smoker let out a quiet sigh.
"Seven days. I gave him seven days. And he still hasn't contacted us. Looks like he's run into something he can't handle on his own…"
Seven days earlier, the very first day Bone failed to report back, Smoker checked the Vivre Card and realized something was wrong.
But he didn't panic. The New World was dangerous. Trouble was normal. Considering Bone's talent, Smoker chose to give him time—to see if he could solve the problem himself and reestablish contact.
But now, a full week had passed.
Smoker could confidently conclude that whatever Bone encountered was beyond him.
"I want to know who in this New World thinks they can lay a finger on a G-5 Marine." Smoker snapped the roster closed, rose to his feet, and grabbed his Justice Coat from the rack, draping it across his shoulders. "Let's go. We're reporting this to Vice Admiral Issho."
...