The moment Captain Monty hit the deck and didn't get back up, the pirate ship stopped being a ship and became a cage full of animals.
Men who had been grinning about money seconds earlier went pale. Some stumbled backward, hands raised, as if surrender could save them. Others drew blades out of instinct, the desperate kind that came from knowing the person in front of you could kill you without trying.
Robin stood frozen beside Monty's corpse, her small hands clenched tight at her sides. She stared at the dead man's beard, the fake leg, the darkening stain of blood spreading beneath him—stared as if her mind had left her body to watch from somewhere safer.
The CP9 agents didn't react like normal men.
They didn't even acknowledge the pirate captain had been a person. Monty had been a tool. A delay. Now he was gone, and the work continued.
The man in white—tall, clean, eyes bored—stepped past Monty's corpse and grabbed Robin by the arm.
Robin's body jerked as if waking. She tried to pull away. Tried to twist free.
His grip tightened.
She stumbled forward, dragged across the deck toward the World Government ship.
A pirate cried out, "Hey—!"
The CP9 agent flicked his wrist.
The pirate flew backward as if hit by a cannon, slamming into the railing and crumpling down with a sound like broken wood.
The pirate crew panicked fully then.
"Run!" someone screamed.
"Fight!" someone else screamed.
They did both, which meant they did neither well.
A few charged the CP9 agents with knives and cutlasses, screaming bravely because terror needed sound. A CP9 agent moved like air. One pirate blinked and found his own weapon broken. Another swung and hit nothing but empty space before a boot crushed his ribs.
Bodies hit the deck.
The sea remained calm.
The World Government ship drifted beside them like an execution platform waiting for its prisoner.
Spandine's voice crackled from a Den Den Mushi, high with joy. "Excellent! Excellent! Capture her! Don't let the little demon escape! I can already taste the promotion!"
Robin's face tightened. She fought harder, tiny legs kicking uselessly, eyes wide and wet.
"Stop," she whispered. "Please—"
The man in white didn't even look at her.
He simply dragged her harder.
That was when the water behind them shifted.
A black shadow approached fast, cutting through the waves like it had something personal to settle.
The Caribbean Pirates arrived.
Pirates on Monty's ship stared.
The CP9 agents narrowed their eyes.
No one recognized the flag. Which meant it wasn't famous.
Jack Sparrow stood at the bow, hat low, coat flaring, sword at his waist. His expression was not theatrical now. His eyes were fixed on one thing.
The child being dragged like cargo.
Jack watched Robin stumble, watched her small body nearly fall, watched the CP9 agent jerk her forward without care.
Something in Jack snapped.
He drew Wado Ichimonji.
And swung.
The strike was not flashy. It was controlled—an arc of steel that cut the air like it had been sharpened by anger itself. A pale line traced through the space between ships.
The CP9 agent released Robin and moved instinctively, dodging back as the slash carved a deep groove into the deck where he'd been standing. Splinters exploded. The cut had been aimed to kill.
Now every CP9 agent on deck turned toward Jack Sparrow.
Spandine's Den Den Mushi squealed. "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"
Jack's voice carried across the water, calm as if he were negotiating dock fees. "Let the girl go."
The man in white stared at him, expression unreadable. "You interfered with the World Government."
Jack smiled thinly. "Yes."
Robin's head snapped up.
She heard the voice.
Her eyes found Jack.
They filled instantly.
She trembled—not from fear now, but from something worse. Hope.
"Captain…" she whispered, though she had never called him that.
One of Monty's pirates screamed from behind, voice cracking. "WHO THE HELL ARE THEY?!"
He didn't get an answer.
Gibbs, standing at the Pearl's cannon, fired.
Boom.
The cannonball smashed into the pirate's chest and launched him off the ship like a broken doll. He vanished into the sea with a splash.
The pirate crew froze.
A few screamed.
A few jumped overboard immediately, deciding drowning was preferable to whatever was happening here.
Jack stepped forward, boots steady on the Pearl's rail.
The CP9 agent spoke again, tone colder. "What is your relationship with the archaeologist?"
Jack didn't hesitate. "She's part of my crew."
Silence hit like a wave.
Robin's breath caught.
Spandine shrieked. "HE'S CLAIMING HER?! ARREST HIM! KILL HIM! CUT HIM INTO PIECES!"
Jack's smile widened. "That's a bit rude."
Then he moved.
Pintel and Ragetti swung across on ropes with entirely too much enthusiasm.
"AAR—!" Pintel began.
A CP9 agent blurred.
Pintel's body was suddenly airborne, launched sideways by a kick that didn't look like it carried any force. Pintel flew off the deck and disappeared into the sea with a splash so familiar it almost felt routine.
Ragetti landed awkwardly, looked over the railing, and sighed. "He's going to be so wet."
Then Ragetti charged anyway, swinging a stolen cutlass with a loud, committed "YAAARGH!" that sounded more like a battle cry.
Jack landed on Monty's ship with a thud, blade raised.
The CP9 agents moved to intercept.
They were fast.
One vanished from sight and reappeared behind Jack, fingers poised like a knife aimed at Jack's ribs. Jack twisted at the last moment, steel clashing against a hardened strike, sparks flashing between blade and bone.
Jack's feet slid across the deck.
He grinned. "Oh, you lot are the serious type."
A second agent attacked from the side—high kick, clean, aimed at Jack's head. Jack ducked and swept his sword low, forcing the agent to leap back.
A third moved toward Robin again, hand reaching.
Jack's expression sharpened.
He surged forward, taking quick steps, a sudden pivot, blade snapping up like a strike of lightning. The agent's sleeve tore open. Blood followed.
The CP9 agent recoiled, eyes narrowing.
Robin stumbled backward, clutching her own arms as if trying to hold herself together.
Jack spoke without looking at her. "Stay behind me."
Robin nodded rapidly, tears dripping off her chin.
On the Pearl, Gibbs reloaded and fired again at the pirate crew, knocking down anyone who tried to regain courage.
Ragetti grabbed a pirate by the collar and threw him at another pirate, creating a brief pile of bodies and confusion.
"This is helping!" Ragetti shouted.
Jack parried another Rokushiki strike, boots sliding across splintered planks. The CP9 agent's movements were precise, efficient—trained. Jack's were less clean, more improvisational, but guided by instinct and the edge of two years of brutal dojo sparring.
He was still developing.
But he was not weak.
A CP9 agent lunged again—fingers aimed for Jack's throat.
Jack stepped inside the attack, shoulder bumping the agent off-line, and drove the flat of his sword into the man's jaw. The agent staggered, surprised at being hit by something so unrefined.
Jack followed with a quick slash that forced space between them.
Then he saw Robin being pulled again—another agent had grabbed her hair, yanking her toward the Government ship.
Robin cried out, small hands reaching for anything.
Jack's rage flared.
He moved like a storm.
One step. Two.
His blade cut through the space between him and the agent, forcing the man to release her or lose his arm. The agent let go.
Robin collapsed onto the deck.
Jack reached her and dropped to one knee, immediately shielding her with his body.
Her eyes were wide, wet, trembling.
Jack's voice softened, just enough. "I got you."
Robin's lip quivered.
She nodded rapidly, like she was afraid the moment would evaporate if she didn't hold onto it.
Spandine's voice screeched from the Den Den Mushi again. "You idiot pirates! You don't understand what you've done! The wrath of the World Government will crush you! We will hunt you! We will—!"
Jack stood slowly, Robin behind him, small fingers clinging to his coat again.
He turned his head slightly toward the Government ship, hat brim shadowing his eyes.
He smiled.
"Then remember the name," Jack said, voice carrying across the water with ridiculous confidence for a teenager who was technically picking a fight with the entire world.
"Captain Jack D Sparrow."
He paused, savoring it.
"Of the Caribbean Pirates."
Gibbs whooped from the Pearl. "RETREAT WITH LOOT!"
Jack snapped his head back. "Loot?"
Gibbs already had men—terrified pirates, suddenly cooperative—passing crates and bags from the Government ship toward the Black Pearl. Ragetti, delighted, had begun looting without needing permission.
"This one's shiny!" Ragetti shouted, holding up something that might have been valuable or might have been cursed.
Jack stared at him. "Take it anyway!"
The CP9 agents surged forward again, but the moment had shifted. Confusion. Betrayal. Pirates fleeing.
Jack seized the opening.
He grabbed Robin's hand. "Run."
Robin stumbled with him, feet slipping on blood-slick planks. Gibbs fired a final shot to break pursuit, cannon smoke filling the space between ships like a curtain.
Jack and Robin leapt back to the Pearl with Ragetti hauling them in. Pintel, somehow, resurfaced in the distance and clung to a rope, sputtering seawater and indignation.
"I HATE WATER!" he screamed.
Gibbs hauled him aboard, coughing. "You fell in again."
"I DID NOT CHOOSE IT!"
The Black Pearl surged away, sails snapping open, hull cutting the sea with predatory speed.
Behind them, Spandine's Den Den Mushi screamed threats into the wind.