The Grand Line, first half.
On the azure sea, gentle waves rippled. The salty ocean breeze swept across the massive black warship that resembled a floating palace, the Lullaby.
Compared to the noisy, politically performative, and hypocritically polite Marine Headquarters at Marineford they had just left, this place was practically heaven.
On the deck, a huge parasol made of some expensive special fabric blocked ultraviolet rays while allowing soft light to filter through.
Renzo lay on his exclusive oversized couch, covered in polar bear fur, with a book titled How to Efficiently Enjoy Retirement Life resting over his face. His breathing was steady, clearly already in sage mode.
"Phew… finally alive again."
A muffled voice came from beneath the book.
"Meetings with Sengoku and those old guys are more exhausting than fighting a Yonko. Especially that ceremony, why did we have to stand so long? Does the Marine not have chairs?"
"You've worked hard, my lord."
Monet approached gracefully, holding a freshly chilled glass of special fruit juice, droplets of condensation clinging to the surface.
She gently removed the book from his face and brought the straw to his lips.
"To compensate for your mental exhaustion, this juice is made from top-grade grapes Rehn brought from G-5."
Renzo took a sip, his brows relaxing.
"Mm, not bad. Where's Rehn?"
"Chief Steward Rehn is currently in the storage hold, counting the remaining gold."
Monet covered her mouth and smiled softly.
"Although he just gifted an entire ship of gold to Fleet Admiral Kizaru, he still feels it wasn't grand enough. He's regretting not including that solid gold statue as well."
"That fat guy…"
Renzo rolled over into a more comfortable position.
"Let him be. Money just takes up space in storage anyway. And you have to guard it from little thieves like Nami. Spending it is easier."
In this atmosphere of extreme decadence and luxury, the Lullaby sailed steadily forward.
But the peace didn't last long.
pururu puru…
A Den Den Mushi near the railing suddenly rang. Though not loud, it sounded especially jarring in the quiet deck.
Not far away, Rehn, who had been "cleaning" the railing, instantly frowned. His entire body trembled, and a flash of hostility appeared in his eyes.
"Which blind idiot dares disturb my lord's nap?!"
He dropped the cloth and charged to the railing like a human battering ram, raising a telescope to look into the distance.
On the vast sea, a tiny vessel, more like a coffin than a ship, was slowly drifting toward the Lullaby.
The boat had a strange design: eerie green candles burned on both sides, a black cross-shaped mast stood in the center, and a black sail fluttered in the wind.
"A coffin?"
Rehn froze, then flew into a rage.
"Outrageous! Seeing a coffin first thing, are they cursing my lord?! Men! Bring out the main cannon! Blow it up!!"
"Wait."
Renzo's lazy voice rang out.
He didn't even get up, nor did he open his eyes, just lightly sensed with his Observation Haki.
"Don't attack. It's someone we know."
"Or rather… a big nuisance."
"Someone we know?"
Rehn paused, raising a hand to stop the soldiers who were about to load special ammunition.
As the coffin boat drew closer, the figure onboard became clear.
Sitting at the bow, legs crossed, was a man wearing a black hat with white fluff, a wine-red patterned shirt, a cross pendant on his chest, and a massive black blade on his back.
His sharp, hawk-like golden eyes calmly observed the Lullaby.
The world's greatest swordsman, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, "Hawkeye" Dracule Mihawk.
Behind him floated a girl holding a wine-red parasol, with pink twin-tails and a gothic lolita outfit, making faces at the sea with visible annoyance.
"Ghost Princess" Perona.
"A Warlord?"
Rehn narrowed his eyes.
"Hawkeye… what does he want? Looking for trouble?"
Rehn snorted. Even if the man was the world's greatest swordsman, in G-5's eyes he was just a slightly stronger swordsman.
He adjusted his tie and walked to the gangway, looking down arrogantly.
"This is the flagship of Admiral Haiiroyo, supreme commander of G-5! Unauthorized personnel, leave immediately!"
The small boat stopped.
Mihawk looked up, his sharp eyes passing over Rehn without emotion before settling on the figure lying deeper on the deck.
"I am Dracule Mihawk."
His voice was deep and resonant.
"I'm not here to cause trouble. I wish to meet Renzo."
"Hah? You think you can just meet him because you say so?"
Rehn was about to mock him, "Let him come up."
Renzo's voice drifted over.
Rehn instantly changed his attitude, bowing.
"Yes! My lord!"
Then he turned back impatiently.
"Your luck's good, he's awake. Come up. And wipe your shoes. The deck was just polished."
Mihawk ignored the rudeness. With a light leap, he landed gracefully on the deck like a black feather.
Perona floated up behind him, grumbling: "Why do we have to come to a place like this… these Marines all look so scary… not cute at all…"
She glanced at Rehn and shrank behind Mihawk.
"Especially that fat guy, he looks like a pig!"
"What did you say?!" Veins bulged on Rehn's forehead.
"Quiet."
Mihawk spoke calmly, then walked toward Renzo.
He stopped five meters from the couch.
Looking at the man sprawled like a salted fish with no dignity, a rare seriousness flashed in Mihawk's eyes.
As the world's greatest swordsman, his instincts were sharper than anyone's.
Within this seemingly lazy man lay a terrifying power capable of destroying the world.
Even his black blade, Yoru, trembled slightly, not in excitement, but in caution.
"Sit."
Renzo pointed to a small stool beside him.
Mihawk sat without hesitation.
"Rare guest."
Renzo yawned, took another glass of juice from Monet, and drank it, without offering anything to his guest.
"The world's greatest swordsman leaving Kuraigana Island to come here, what for? Want to spar?"
He waved dismissively.
"No thanks. Fighting is tiring, and sweating means bathing. If your hands are itchy, Rehn can play with you. His swordsmanship is terrible, but he's tough."
Rehn puffed his chest.
"I'll gladly die for my lord! Though… I agree, cutting him would be troublesome."
Mihawk shook his head.
"I'm not here to fight."
His tone was calm, almost sincere.
"I'm here… to pay my respects."
"Pfft!!"
Renzo spat out his juice, barely saved by Monet's quick ice wall.
"Cough, cough"
He stared at Mihawk like he'd seen a ghost.
"Pay respects? Did you take the wrong medicine? Or did that ghost girl hit you with a negative ghost?"
"I didn't!!" Perona protested. "I don't even know what he's doing! He's crazy!"
Mihawk remained serious.
"I'm perfectly clear-headed."
Hands folded, he spoke as if discussing the weather, yet his words were shocking.
"The Seven Warlords system… won't last much longer."
A direct statement.
"You should know from the last Reverie. There were proposals to abolish it. Even if delayed, it's inevitable. The World Government now has new weapons. We relics of the old era will be purged."
Renzo raised an eyebrow and sat up slightly.
'This hawk… had sharp vision.'
"So?" Renzo asked.
"I don't want to be a pirate."
Mihawk said plainly.
"Being hunted by the Marine is troublesome. I have no interest in becoming Pirate King or competing like Red-Haired Shanks."
"I just want a quiet place to grow vegetables, drink wine, occasionally study swordsmanship, and spar."
He glanced around the heavily armed yet luxurious ship.
"In this sea, the only place that can make both the World Government wary and the Yonko cautious, while granting absolute privilege, is your G-5."
Mihawk stood and bowed slightly in a formal swordsman's gesture.
Not just courtesy, but submission.
"Renzo."
"I wish to join you, with this noisy woman."
"No need for rank. Even in name only is fine. Just provide a peaceful territory where we won't be disturbed."
"As for payment-"
He touched the black blade Yoru.
"The world's strongest blade will serve you. Any enemy, unless it's pointless fights like Red-Haired, I will handle."
Rehn's jaw dropped.
'The world's greatest swordsman… applying for a job?'
Perona screamed, "Mihawk! Have you lost your mind?! Working under a Marine?!"
"Quiet."
He glanced at her.
"This place is ten thousand times safer than your ghost island. And… I hear the desserts here are top-tier."
Perona immediately shut up, eyeing Monet's tray.
Renzo looked at Mihawk, speechless.
This development… was way off.
He just wanted to slack off.
Now, even max-level bosses wanted to join him, for retirement?!
And honestly… it was tempting.
More Mihawk = less work.
But accepting him meant directly opposing the World Government.
Renzo tapped the armrest.
Tap… tap… tap…
Mihawk waited like a statue.
Rehn held his breath.
Monet was already planning room arrangements.
After a long pause, Renzo stopped tapping.
He lay back down, placing the book over his face again.
"About that…"
His lazy voice drifted out.
Everyone leaned in, but he stopped halfway.
Only faint breathing remained.
The sea breeze blew.
The atmosphere turned awkward.
'Did he agree?'
'Or not?'
'Or… did he just fall asleep?'
....
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu