In a confidential World Government brief, the record states: Marine Hero Monkey D. Garp engaged the Waveguide King, Kael Grylls, on the Grand Line while pursuing the Pirate King's widow and heir. Due to the Waveguide King's uncanny abilities, the island sank and the target was carried off by Kael. Current whereabouts unknown.
Garp kept his standing. Kael shouldered every line of pursuit pressure. Not that he felt any.
The true key figures, meanwhile, began a new life in the least likely place.
As for Kael, after drifting a few more days, he got bored.
Rootless living was free, but it also meant hassle. Time to settle down.
He chose the Sabaody Archipelago.
This chain of colossal Yarukiman Mangroves marked the Grand Line's halfway point and the gate to the New World. Fish and dragons mingled, information flowed, and order and chaos held a delicate truce.
Also, it meant being neighbors with Rayleigh.
Kael wandered the bubble-laced groves until he stopped before a detached villa in Grove 24.
Built into the slope with a sweeping view, the place was stylish, and the front door had a few heavies who looked like they ate nails for breakfast.
Clearly, it belonged to some underworld outfit.
Kael approved. He walked straight to the gate.
This house is mine now. Any objections?
"Stop. Kid, you are in the wrong place." A slab-faced guard threw out an arm.
Kael did not look at him and kept walking.
"Die."
The guard snarled. His cookpot fist drove for Kael's face.
It froze a finger's breadth from Kael's nose.
Not mercy. A formless shock rolled out from beneath Kael's feet.
The two-hundred-kilo brute turned into a fly swatted by an invisible hand and screamed across the courtyard, cratering a distant wall before going limp.
Ever met the black hand of the black hand? Up you go.
Kael never broke stride.
The ruckus stirred the house.
The doors banged open. A man in a gaudy suit with a steel prosthetic jaw marched out with a mob at his back.
"Who dares make trouble on the turf of Iron Jaw Karon?" His voice boomed. The metal jaw flashed cold in the sun.
Kael stopped and gave him a once-over.
"Your turf?"
He tilted his head, voice flat.
"Not anymore."
"Hah?" Karon burst out laughing, and his men laughed with him as weapons came free.
"Stupid brat. Chop him up and feed him to the Sea Kings."
One of the lieutenants started forward, but the bespectacled man beside him, the type who looked like a strategist, yanked him back with a death grip.
The adviser's face had gone chalk white. He shook like a leaf and fumbled a creased bounty poster from his coat, shoving it into Karon's hands.
"B-b-boss. Look."
Karon snatched it, annoyed. He glanced once and turned to stone.
The photo was the black-haired, gold-eyed youth standing before him.
"Waveguide King. Kael Grylls. Bounty, three point one billion Berries."
The cigar dropped from Karon's mouth with a plop. His proud steel jaw chattered under the strain and looked ready to follow the cigar to the ground.
One second a strutting kingpin. The next, his legs gave out. He hit his knees with a crack and smacked his forehead to the stone.
Behold the art of the dogeza.
"L-l-lord Kael. I had eyes yet failed to see the mountain. My sins deserve a thousand deaths."
His men stared, then scrambled to kneel in a clattering wave. Quite the spectacle.
Kael watched Karon knock his head like a mallet meeting garlic. His face did not change.
"Ahaha. I liked you better when you were mouthy." He smiled. "Put that back on."
Karon flinched. He pressed his forehead lower.
"I do not dare. Never again. This villa, no, every asset in Grove 24, is yours. Please spare this little one."
Kael walked past him without another glance.
"Take your people. Do not let me see you."
"Yes. Thank you for sparing our lives, Lord Kael."
See? He even has to thank me.
From that day, Grove 24 of the Sabaody Archipelago had a new master.
Kael finally settled.
Most days he stayed in, wandering out now and then to taste the archipelago's unique brand of chaos.
Soon he noticed that Iron Jaw Karon's crowd had vanished from his sight but not from Sabaody.
Trading on the name of the Waveguide King, they threw their weight around in other groves and grew faster than before.
At first, Kael did not care for this fox-borrowing-tiger strategy.
Then one morning he read in the paper that Whitebeard, Edward Newgate, had taken Fish-Man Island under his protection.
Lounging on the balcony, Kael stared at the man's bold-laughing photo and thought.
One man's strength has limits.
Influence, territory, a voice that carries. Sometimes those matter more than raw power.
He needed a home port to return to, a place that ended drifting.
Sabaody would do.
Days later, Karon was summoned to the villa.
His knees shook all the way. He had no idea how he had offended the reaper this time.
"Lord Kael." He stood in the center of the room with bowed head.
Kael leaned into the sofa, a teacup turning in his fingers.
"I hear you have been very impressive."
Cold sweat poured down Karon's back.
"All thanks to you. I have only been taking out small trash on your behalf."
"Is that so?" Kael flicked the teacup with a finger.
Crack.
On the low table, the other intact cup crumbled to dust without warning.
A single razor shard drove into Karon's steel jaw with a bite.
His soul nearly left his body. He folded to the floor.
"My kind of impressive is not squeezing civilians and running a slave racket," Kael said, voice cold as deep sea.
"From today, Sabaody's underworld will have new rules."
"My rules."
He looked at the trembling Karon and laid them out.
First, human trafficking and slave auctions are completely banned.
I cannot clean the world, but not here. It offends the eyes.
Second, protection fees can be collected, but within limits. Treat it like an order-keeping tax. No more stripping the bones.
Starved sheep do not grow wool.
Third, conflicts between crews are mediated by Karon.
The Sabaody underworld speaks with one voice.
Karon listened and went numb.
This was not a syndicate. This was an underground government.
He dared not object. He could only nod like a pecking chick.
He understood. This was the only way to live. Maybe even live better.
Kael did not waste more thought on him. What could a small-time boss do to overhaul a whole underworld?
…
Things got out of hand.
Under Kael's iron-fisted reorg, read as loafing while radiating menace, Sabaody's underground order transformed in two months.
When Kael stepped out of his villa again, the sight at the door made him wonder if he had walked onto the wrong set.
The forecourt was packed.
All in black suits, black shades, black shoes. Hair slick enough to shave in.
They lined both sides of the path from the gate, backs straight, hands clasped behind them, faces blank.
Iron Jaw Karon stood front and center, also in a tailored black suit. His steel jaw gleamed.
He saw Kael and bowed ninety degrees like a perfect butler.
"Lord Kael, are you going out?"
"Yes. A casual walk."
"Yes." Karon trotted to Kael's flank, keeping the ideal respectful distance to receive orders at any time without crowding him.
He half-turned and made a small hand sign.
When Kael took a step, nearly a hundred black suits stepped too.
Their cadence matched. The thud of leather on stone merged into a heavy river, each beat landing on the city's pulse.
Has Karon misunderstood me in some very strange way?
Kael said nothing and kept walking.
Seeing no objection, Karon's courage swelled.
He cleared his throat. The modified metal in his throat lent it the resonance of a loudhailer.
"Company, attention. Review the core commandments of the New Sabaody Order."
Kael stumbled and almost tripped on flat ground.
Core what?
Karon declaimed with orator's cadence.
"One. Unswervingly carry out Lord Kael's core line of One Center, Two Pillars."
"Center: preserve the peace and stability of Sabaody. Pillars: crush human trafficking and regularize protection fees. Never waver."
The hundred black suits roared in unison, "Unswervingly carry out."
The shout shook the roadside bubbles three times.
Kael was silent.
He regretted delegating to this brain wired to the moon.
Karon, pleased, grew more animated.
"Two. Advance steadily Lord Kael's great strategy of Sustainable Development."
"Protection fees are not predation. They are tax. They are the lubricant of commerce. We collect so merchants feel safe, satisfied, assured. Absolutely no short-sighted net-dragging of the pond."
"Advance steadily."
Kael covered his face in his heart.
Were you a World Government bureaucrat in a past life?
Karon was lost in his own fervor now.
"Three. Implement fully Lord Kael's Three Disciplines and Seven Degrees."
"Discipline one: do not bully civilians. Discipline two: no slave trade. Discipline three: settle internal disputes internally. Do not scar the streets."
"Enforce with warmth, move with speed, kick with precision, strike with force, comport with grace, think with depth, and if you must cut, cut with attitude."
"Implement fully."
Kael gave up on thinking and considered finding a crack to crawl into.
By the time Karon finished his last commandment, they had reached an open square.
Karon snapped to a halt and spun to face Kael, heels clicking together.
The formation locked with him, every motion ruler-straight.
Karon drew a breath to his boots and bellowed.
"To Lord Kael, our highest respect."
He raised his right arm, fist clenched across his chest.
Behind him, a hundred fists crossed as one.
"Loyal. True."
"Loyal. True."
"Loyal. True."
Each shout rose higher and louder until the wave seemed to scour the clouds.
The raw heat of their awe and zeal thickened the air.
For a heartbeat, they were no longer street thugs. They were a disciplined, single-hearted army.
Kael stared at the performance art and stood quiet a long time.
He had to admit, however toe-curling the path, the result was not bad.
This momentum alone would cow ninety-nine percent of Sabaody's monsters.
He turned. Karon looked up with a please-praise-me face, steel jaw quivering with excitement.
Kael was satisfied. He patted Karon's shoulder and smiled with a meaning of his own.
"Little Kar."
"Sir." Karon bent lower.
"Good work," Kael said evenly. "Only, on that walk just now, I noticed your trousers were a little loose."
"?"
Karon blinked. Loose?
He glanced down. The belt was tight. Was Lord Kael hinting his outfit lacked polish?
Cold sweat sprang to his brow as his brain raced to parse the deeper meaning.
Kael watched the gears grind toward a meltdown and smiled wider.
He hooked a finger and made a small upward tug at Karon's belt line.
"It is time to pull them higher."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Don't forget to add this story to your Library, drop a review, and leave a Power Stone if you enjoyed it!
If you're itching to see what happens next, check out the advanced chapters on my Patron!
[email protected]/_theon
Change @ to "a"