Chapter 21: Collision
Sabaody Archipelago, Grove 13.
Slave Arena.
The arena was opulent, built by a powerful slaver—a playground for nobles, even occasionally visited by Celestial Dragons.
Normally, commoners, even wealthy merchants of low birth, couldn't glimpse its interior. They saw only its ornate outer walls.
But now, with a violent roar, a monstrous figure tore open one side of the arena, exposing its innards.
Stone bricks, tiles, soil… and the reek of blood.
Only then did people realize: the "nobles' secret den" they'd wondered about was no different from the seas outside.
Built from the same materials.
Stained with the same blood.
Beneath the same sky…
Was this what the nobles took pride in?
It wasn't surprising, really.
Wrong!
Now wasn't the time for such reflections.
Grove 13 wasn't a commercial district, but its illicit shops drew bold tourists and merchants seeking higher profits. The large-scale Marine mobilization had already caused a stir.
Then, Alvin Vergil, in his Chīguǐ Form, tore half the arena apart, causing an even greater uproar. The Marines opened fire with muskets.
The commotion intensified.
Civilians fled to Grove 13's outskirts.
As Vergil broke the first Marine line, the nobles, slaves, and gladiators inside also poured out, scattering in all directions.
Soon, only one person remained in the vast, shattered arena:
The Fish-Man.
Fisher Tiger.
The boss of Fish-Man Street was a spiritual leader for many young Fish-Men on Fish-Man Island. His character—both its virtues and its flaws—influenced many, including the future "Knight of the Sea" Jinbe, Hatchan, and even "Saw-Tooth" Arlong.
Yes, both.
His yearning for freedom, his loyalty to his word, his stubborn refusal to bow to humans… but also his recklessness, extremism, and impulsiveness.
Fish-Men were life, and life itself was complex.
So when Tiger realized he'd regained his freedom because of a "human," his emotions were tangled.
"Humans" had harmed him.
"Humans" had now saved him.
He could no longer pinpoint what exactly he hated.
But regardless, the Fish-Man Street boss felt he owed Alvin Vergil. So he acted.
THUMP!
A powerful stomp. Tiger charged, overturning a Marine, and landed beside Vergil.
Vergil was fully in his Chīguǐ Form—an alien demon with twin dark-green horns. The inhuman appearance eased Tiger's discomfort somewhat. Years of slavery had left him resistant to human likeness; he hadn't shaken it yet.
"Human!" Tiger frowned, eyeing the surrounding Marines, his voice low. "What's your plan? I'll help!"
"Plan…"
Vergil murmured. Truthfully, he hadn't thought that far.
But regardless, he couldn't let Crocodile's ship go to waste. He wanted to see the desert kingdom of Alabasta.
"First, break through to the port. A friend might still be waiting there."
"Good!"
Tiger nodded. Vergil's plan suited him perfectly.
A Fish-Man's strength wasn't just physical superiority. Their true domain was the sea. In the vast ocean, no storm could hinder them.
Once back in the water, Tiger was confident no one could catch him.
The two quickly identified a weak point in the encirclement. Vergil raised an earthen shield to lead; Tiger covered their flanks, preventing Marine approaches.
Soon, they broke through several lines, dashing toward neighboring Grove 14.
"Tch…"
The Marine captain watched them go, frowning.
They had too few troops to deploy on short notice, while maintaining order across Sabaody. The remaining force couldn't stop Vergil and Tiger.
One was troublesome enough. Now there were two.
But these were Sabaody Marines. The captain's thinking remained sharp.
He immediately grabbed a Den Den Mushi, issuing orders to units across the archipelago.
"Delay the fugitives in stages! Guide them away from populated areas! Prevent civilians from being taken hostage!"
"Hold on! Headquarters support is en route!"
Click!
BOOM!
Just as the captain hung up and prepared to pursue, a gunshot rang out.
Thinking it was an escaping slave, he drew his sword.
But when he turned, his head spun.
Before him wasn't a vicious fugitive, but a Celestial Dragon flanked by guards!
The Dragon held a musket, striding through the crowd with an air of authority.
"Out of the way! Make way for Saint Lorvim!"
The guards ignored Marine formations entirely, forcing a path straight to the torn-open arena.
The previous Celestial Dragon, Saint Ekwena, was buried in the rubble, lifeless.
The CP agent who'd fought Vergil to the last still breathed faintly, lying on the ground.
Seeing this, Saint Lorvim wailed, "Brother! Who did this? Who killed you?!"
The two were from the same family. Saint Ekwena was Saint Lorvim's elder brother.
After wailing, Saint Lorvim's face twisted with rage, his bloated flesh quivering comically and grotesquely.
He reloaded his musket, aimed at the dying agent, and pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang!
Two more holes appeared in the agent's back. He moved no more.
"Bastards… Bastards!"
Saint Lorvim trembled with fury, screaming at the nearby Marines, "Hey! You Marine trash! Avenge my brother! Now!"
"…"
The Marine captain was speechless. Though he had little interaction with CP, watching Saint Lorvim execute a dying man left him uneasy.
This is a Celestial Dragon…
Helpless, he replied, "Our forces are encircling the perpetrators…"
"Enough!"
Saint Lorvim's jowls shook. "For a criminal of this magnitude, you're still encircling? Shoot to kill! Bombard them! Open fire!"
"…"
The captain's expression froze.
This was Sabaody Archipelago, one of the most prosperous hubs in Paradise. If they shelled the island… how many civilians would die?
Sabaody Archipelago, Port.
Crocodile, having procured a new ship, leaned against the mast once more, smoking his cigar in silence.
He was still waiting for Alvin Vergil.
A connection to the "ancient past" was rare. Even a living primitive man was a valuable lead.
So he waited.
But a bad feeling brewed in Crocodile's gut.
As if confirming it, commotion erupted across Sabaody. Slaves had escaped en masse; Marines were rounding them up.
That… might still be manageable.
If it was just escaped slaves, his Warlord status could likely weather it. No one would hassle him over that.
Wait… wait…
THUMP!
As he pondered, someone landed heavily on the deck behind him.
Vergil's back?
No.
He didn't see Vergil, but he heard a voice.
"AH HAHAHAHA! What's a brat from the Warlords doing here?"
A large hand came down on Crocodile's shoulder.
From behind, a bearded head leaned into view, grinning.
"Hey, tell me something."
The head's eyes shifted, locking onto Crocodile's gaze. The voice dropped, slower now.
"Could the chaos on Sabaody have anything to do with you, you little punk?"
"…"
Crocodile's eyes flickered slightly, taking in that face.
Gray hair. Wrinkles. An old man.
"…"
Crocodile paused again.
He'd gotten excited and run into the "Naval Hero"…
Author's Note:
If you want to see faceless mooks beaten to pulp, go read Fist of the North Star.
I can't write a saintly protagonist, nor can I write pure, mindless slaughter.
Vergil wouldn't care, and I'll just move past it.
The CP agent is the character who gets the most focus here. Whether the Celestial Dragon dies or not isn't my concern—and it's not Vergil's either.
(End of Chapter)
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