"Don't compare yourself to me. Your old man has a big heart—he lets you roam the seas as you please. You act like a slippery eel, not caring about the World Government's opinion or aiming for promotions. Naturally, you can do whatever you want…
"But my old man isn't like that. If I really became a pirate or ran off with you, I guarantee, with his personality… Even if he didn't drop dead from high blood pressure on the spot, he'd hunt me down across the world himself."
Yahn paused for a moment, then suddenly remembered something and added,
"And besides—I never agreed to be the 'Chief Strategist' of your half-baked, not-even-a-real-organization."
"Hahaha…"
Dragon laughed heartily and said,
"Chief Strategist, it's only a matter of time. We're destined to walk the same path. In fact, in some ways, your thinking is already far ahead of mine on this road."
Just as Yahn opened his mouth to argue back, a muffled, unfamiliar voice came through the transponder snail on Dragon's end.
"Dragon! You Navy deserter spreading dangerous ideas—so you've got accomplices too? Who's this 'Chief Strategist'?"
Wind howled through the snail, mixed with shouting and sounds of fighting.
Yahn's face immediately darkened.
"You idiot, Dragon! You've got enemies around you and you still picked up my call? Did Garp squeeze your brain under his armpit as a kid or something?!"
"Don't be so hot-tempered, Chief Strategist. That's not like you," Dragon replied calmly, his voice accompanied by the roar of the wind.
Yahn took a deep breath, steadying himself, and asked, "Who are they?"
"Just a few CP0 agents."
Dragon's tone was light, but it sent a chill down Yahn's spine.
"Dragon," Yahn growled, "if you don't completely wipe out those CP0 agents and my name gets leaked to the World Government—I'll kill you myself."
Without waiting for a reply, Yahn slammed the transponder snail shut, his expression a picture of despair. Internally, he began cursing nonstop:
"That bastard Dragon… Idiot. Garp junior, through and through…"
At the same time, Yahn couldn't help but feel glad he hadn't impulsively defected from the Navy with Dragon earlier.
If he had, with his skinny arms and legs, he'd have been dead by now—dragged into disaster by this passionate, idealistic fool who had no sense of proper timing or caution.
The Dragon of today was nothing like the powerful, mysterious revolutionary leader Yahn remembered. This younger version was overflowing with idealism and righteous fervor—hot-blooded like Luffy and reckless like Garp, often acting in absurd and unpredictable ways.
It was precisely because of this that, once Dragon made up his mind, he had defected from the Navy without hesitation, diving into the sea to chase the path of revolution—a path he had first heard about by accident… from Yahn himself.
"…What a talented disaster," Yahn muttered with a sigh.
He turned his attention back to observing the distant battlefield—Kuzan and Sakazuki locked in fierce combat, Vice Admiral Yamakaji and Saul also exchanging heavy blows. He waited quietly, his Observation Haki sweeping the surroundings.
About a hundred breaths later, the transponder snail rang again.
Yahn picked it up immediately.
"Is it done?" he asked.
"Relax! Just a few CP0 agents. How could they possibly be a match for me? Hahaha!" Dragon's voice was full of smug satisfaction.
"Don't get cocky."
Yahn warned sternly.
"Devil Fruits are unpredictable—there are all kinds of crazy abilities out there. You never know if one of them has something like resurrection powers. Grind their bodies into dust with wind and scatter it into the sea. Got it?"
"Alright, alright. Chief Strategist, you're still as paranoid as ever."
Dragon sounded a little helpless, but didn't protest. He followed Yahn's instructions and made sure the CP0 agents were thoroughly returned to the sea's embrace.
Then his tone shifted to something more serious.
"Alright, Chief Strategist. What did you want to talk about?"
"Where exactly are you right now?" Yahn asked.
"Some deserted island in the New World," Dragon replied.
Yahn frowned. "Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on Ohara? What the hell are you doing out there?"
He didn't explain why he had made that request—he couldn't. But Yahn had repeatedly warned Dragon to monitor Ohara closely, emphasizing how vital the archaeologists who could read the ancient language were.
After all, only those scholars could interpret the Poneglyphs and uncover the secrets the World Government feared the most.
Yahn had assumed Dragon would show up early at Ohara, evacuate the Tree of Knowledge's critical texts, and rescue the archaeologists in time.
He hadn't expected Dragon to be nowhere near the West Blue.
"I couldn't help it," Dragon sighed. "CP0's been tailing me constantly—I couldn't shake them. I only managed to set a trap and take them out here on this island after a lot of effort."
"Did something happen in Ohara?"
"Yes," Yahn said gravely. "The World Government discovered Ohara was researching the Poneglyphs and the Void Century. They're preparing to launch a Buster Call to erase all the scholars and destroy the knowledge. Soon… Ohara will vanish from the seas."
Silence followed on the other end.
After a long pause, Dragon finally replied, voice low.
"That's just like the World Government… I was careless. This will make deciphering the Poneglyphs so much harder."
"That's why I called you. There's one surviving archaeologist from Ohara. She's already been smuggled off the island. She's our only hope of uncovering the truth about the Void Century and the World Government's secrets."
Yahn's tone sharpened.
"Find her. Protect her, discreetly."
"Understood," Dragon replied. "What's her name? What does she look like?"
Yahn gave a brief description.
"Nico Robin. Eight years old. Dark skin, dark blue eyes, short hair, defined nose—not particularly cute…"
"Wait, wait!"
Dragon interrupted instinctively.
"Chief Strategist, are you serious? An archaeologist who can read the ancient script… and she's only eight years old?"
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Currently at chapter 180 for advance chapters
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