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In the grand hall of Dressrosa's royal palace, Mihawk hung up the transponder snail, his face an unreadable mask. Around him, his small crew
In the grand hall of Dressrosa's royal palace, Mihawk hung up the transponder snail, his face an unreadable mask. Around him, his small crew and the royal family held their breath.
Korran, unable to stay still, broke the silence first. "So? Did it work, Captain? Did the big shot take the bait?"
Mihawk's gaze settled on the young man. "The admiral burned the transponder. In his language, that means he refuses to commit verbally but understands the cost of acting now." He turned to Riku, Violet, Kyros, and Rebecca, all marked by their ordeal. "Right now, the Marines are sailing in murky waters. Their reputation, battered by the Marineford War and the Impel Down revelations, is only just recovering thanks to their new recruits' show of strength." His eyes hardened. "A scandal like the truth about Doflamingo—a fallen Celestial Dragon shielded by the Marines while he tormented a kingdom—would be a blow they couldn't withstand. Distrust from nations, public outrage, total discredit… That's our leverage."
King Riku Doldo III stepped forward. "Why… why do this?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "For this kingdom, for us? You killed Doflamingo, faced Kaido, defied the Marines… you're claiming this land at the risk of your life. Why carry this burden?"
Mihawk met his gaze without flinching. "A king must protect his land," he said simply, as if stating the weather. "It's the first law."
Violet, standing beside her father, watched Mihawk with a peculiar intensity. "I don't need to read your heart, Mihawk-san," she said softly, a faint smile touching her lips. "I can see that beneath the armor of the world's greatest swordsman beats a heart that, against all odds, cares for those who can't defend themselves."
Mihawk pointedly ignored her comment, turning his attention to Kyros, who stood with massive arms crossed, his warrior's face etched with pragmatism and wariness.
"This truce," Kyros rumbled, his voice echoing in the cracked hall. "It won't last. The Marines won't let a territory tied to the World Government stay in pirate hands."
"Indeed," Mihawk agreed, unflinching. "It's a reprieve, not eternal peace. But it will be enough. Enough for these islands to become impregnable. Enough for anyone who dares threaten them to know they'll face not just a rebuilt kingdom, but its lord."
A silence fell, each person weighing his words.
Perona, floating near Kiku with a pout but stealing glances at Mihawk, sighed loudly. "Always so dramatic, Grumpy Captain. And I bet it's us who'll have to handle everything while you take your nap, huh?"
Kiku, leaning against the wall, nodded slowly. "Protecting takes strength, Mihawk-sama. A solid rock needs deep foundations and strong walls."
Mihawk's gaze shifted to her.
'She's not wrong.'
He rose in a fluid motion, his tall silhouette commanding.
"Kyros is right," he declared, his clear voice cutting through the lingering murmurs. "Time is short. The Marines will back off today but return tomorrow. Kaido fled, but his grudge will grow. This territory, as it stands, won't survive on threats or rebuilding alone."
He paused, his gaze sharpening to the edge of his blade.
"So, I'm recruiting."
Korran let out an admiring whistle. "Whoa, Captain! A bigger crew? Are we turning into a fleet or what?"
Perona, hovering at eye level beside Kiku, let out a loud "Humph!" and crossed her translucent arms. "Newbies? Do you realize what that means, Mihawk? More mouths to feed, more whining to deal with, more squabbles to referee… And who's cleaning up on the Nachthrone? Because it's definitely not me picking up some barbarian's dirty socks!" She turned her head haughtily, but a fleeting glance betrayed her curiosity.
Mihawk didn't respond right away. He crossed the hall with measured steps, his boots echoing on the cracked marble, a remnant of the battles that had shaken Dressrosa. He stopped by a wide window overlooking the city.
Below, the streets buzzed with activity: people worked to rebuild their homes, their lives. Children ran and played, merchants reopened their stalls, and soldiers, under Kyros's command, patrolled with newfound vigilance.
Dressrosa was being reborn, but it remained vulnerable.
"It's not a fleet I want, Korran," Mihawk said at last, without turning. "What I want is a fortress. A force that doesn't bend, doesn't yield, and doesn't rely on one man—not even me."
Perona, still floating inches off the floor, crossed her arms theatrically. "Oh, great! So you're gonna make us work even harder, is that it? Here I thought we could finally take a vacation after kicking Doflamingo's butt!" She summoned a small negative ghost that flitted around her, amplifying her pout. "Why did I even sign up with you again?"
Kiku, still leaning against the wall, gave a faint smile. "Because you like it, Captain, even if you complain nonstop." She adjusted her headband, her sharp gaze fixed on Mihawk. "And because you're curious to see how far he'll go."
Mihawk ignored Perona's remark, though a slight twitch at the corner of his lips suggested he'd heard it. He turned to face the group, his eyes sweeping over each person.
"Dressrosa can't remain prey," he said. "The Marines will return, as Kyros said. And others, lurking in the shadows, watch this kingdom like vultures. If we want it to survive—to thrive—it's not enough to swing a sword or make threats. It needs roots. Walls. Souls ready to fight, not for me, but for what they cherish."
Riku stepped forward, his hands trembling but his voice steady. "You speak of recruiting… but who? Dressrosa has no army worth the name. Our soldiers are brave, but they're not ready to face Emperors or the Marines."
Mihawk locked eyes with him. "This kingdom is under my protection. But I can't—and won't—defend it alone."
Kyros frowned, his hand instinctively gripping his sword's hilt.
"I want men and women who know why they fight," Mihawk continued. "Not mercenaries, not opportunists. People with dreams I'll strive to fulfill under my banner."
Korran, unable to sit still, leapt to his feet. "So where do we start, Captain? Rounding up some tough guys? Or… wait, are we gonna pick a fight with another Emperor for fun?"
Perona snorted. "You're such an idiot. If we go looking for trouble with another Emperor, you're on the front line. I'm staying with my ghosts and iced tea."
Kiku straightened, her expression serious. "Captain, you talk of recruiting. But… where do we find them? The New World is a graveyard for the weak, and the strong are often already loyal to someone else."
Mihawk nodded, acknowledging her point. "You're right, Kiku. The strong don't come at the snap of a finger. But they exist." He turned to the group. "And that's why I won't just recruit here. Dressrosa will be our base, our fortress. But I'm leaving. With you," he added, looking at his crew. "And we'll find those who are worthy."
Rebecca, silent until now, stepped forward, her eyes blazing with fierce determination. "And me, Mihawk-sama? I want to fight. As long as you're our king, I want to be a sword for my kingdom. I'm not as strong as my father yet, but I want to learn."
Kyros placed a protective hand on his daughter's shoulder, but his gaze toward Mihawk held respect. "If my daughter chooses your path, I won't stand in her way. But are you sure this kingdom can hold while you're gone?"
"My kingdom won't fall," Mihawk replied. "And I'm not leaving today."
He turned to the window, his gaze lost on the horizon. "Prepare the Nachthrone," he ordered his crew. "We set sail in three days. Dressrosa must stand on its own while we seek those who'll make the difference. From here, I'll organize this country."
Korran thrust a fist in the air. "That's my Captain! We're gonna shake up the New World, right?"
Perona sighed loudly. "I'm already regretting not staying at Thriller Bark…"
Kiku bowed her head respectfully. "Wherever you go, Captain, I'll build a ship to carry you."
Riku stepped forward one last time, his voice thick with gratitude. "Mihawk… whatever happens, know that Dressrosa will never forget. You've given my people a chance to live free. We won't waste it."
Mihawk didn't reply, but a fleeting glint in his eyes—almost imperceptible—betrayed an emotion he'd never admit. He turned, his black cape flowing behind him like a living shadow.