As panic rippled through the streets of Nanohana, with civilians screaming and scattering in all directions, Koza lay half-upright, clutching his wound, disbelief still gripping his heart. Around him, dust and fear filled the air.
The "King" had just declared destruction. The people had witnessed violence. The trust between the monarchy and its people had been shattered in a matter of minutes.
Then—
A deep rumble filled the sky.
Everyone instinctively looked up.
From above, a massive shadow loomed. A colossal battleship—clearly not from the royal fleet—hovered ominously over the city, defying reason. With a loud roar, it plummeted from the sky, crashing onto the outskirts of the town.
The impact sent tremors through the ground, collapsing buildings and shattering windows for blocks.
Boom!
Flames and debris erupted. The chaos intensified.
Screams rang out. Some civilians tripped and fell in their rush to escape. Smoke rose, mixing with the desert wind.
And then, out of the dust, two figures emerged calmly from the destruction.
A tall man with blades for arms—Mr. 1—and a sharp-eyed woman in dark clothing—Miss Doublefinger.
They walked through the devastation with chilling ease, completely unfazed by the destruction around them. Step by step, they approached the so-called King Cobra, who still stood tall amidst his false royal guards.
"Let's go," the "King" said coolly.
Without hesitation, the two Baroque Works agents fell in beside him. To any onlooker, it appeared as if the king himself had ordered this act of violence, and these terrifying figures were his chosen enforcers.
Gasps echoed through the remaining crowd.
"The king… hired those monsters…?"
"Is this really what Alabasta's become…?"
But just as the group turned to leave, a subtle shimmer passed across the king's face—his features rippled like melting wax—
And in the next breath, the truth was revealed.
It wasn't King Cobra. It was Mr. 2 Bon Clay.
Grinning with theatrical flair, the shape-shifting assassin gave a sly bow as his transformation completed. The guards beside him, once thought to be royal protectors, shifted form as well—agents in disguise, loyal not to Alabasta, but to Baroque Works.
The real king was nowhere in sight.
It was all a ruse—a perfectly orchestrated act of deception meant to break the will of the people.
As Mr. 2, Mr. 1, and Miss Doublefinger disappeared into the rising dust, their silhouettes slowly vanishing with the smoke and sun glare, one thing was certain: Operation Utopia had begun.
They walked away, almost smug with satisfaction, leaving behind a city in ruins, and hearts torn with confusion and rage.
Koza, still trembling and bleeding, watched them leave.
His fists clenched, trembling with emotion—not from fear, but from despair turned to resolve.
His voice was low but steady. "Cobra… If that's who you really are…"
He pushed himself up, swaying but standing, eyes burning.
"Then so be it."
He turned toward the people, toward the soldiers still frozen in shock.
"Let's have our war, then."
And so, the final seed was planted.
War had become inevitable.
...
Alubarna, Capital of Alabasta.
A soldier just finished reporting what had happened in Nanohana Port.
Pell clenched his fists. "This… this doesn't make sense. None of it fits who King Cobra is. It must be a lie. An illusion, or a trick."
Chaka muttered under his breath, "Or an imposter…"
Both commanders fell into silence, minds racing.
Pell finally spoke. "Regardless of how, the damage is done. If the people believe the king has turned on them—if the rebels believe it too—war will begin."
"We must reach Nanohana at once," Chaka said. "Or at the very least, send a trusted envoy to confirm the king's presence and state."
"I'll go," Pell said without hesitation. "I can fly and arrive quickly. If there is any chance this is a deception, I'll find out."
"Be careful," Chaka warned. "And if the king truly said these things…"
"He didn't." Pell's voice was firm, eyes burning with conviction. "I know His Majesty. He loves this country more than his life. If he's missing, and now a false version appears spreading lies—then something far darker is at play."
Chaka nodded grimly. "I'll stay and reinforce the capital. We must not let this chaos reach Alubarna's gates."
With one final nod, Pell turned and burst through the open balcony doors, transforming mid-air into his falcon form, wings slicing the air as he soared toward Nanohana—to the truth, whatever it may be.
...
Noon — Rainbase, the City of Dreams.
The blistering sun bore down mercilessly on the glittering oasis town of Rainbase, casting sharp reflections off the sleek domes and glass towers. The streets bustled with activity — gamblers, traders, and travelers swarming toward the famed Rain Dinners casino.
Among the crowd, two Marines strode with focused purpose — Captain Smoker and Sergeant Tashigi.
Smoker's white cloak billowed behind him, twin cigars clenched tightly in his mouth as smoke trailed into the air. Tashigi kept pace beside him, her glasses glinting under the harsh sun.
"This whole country stinks," Smoker muttered, his tone rough with frustration. "Too quiet in the wrong places, too loud in the others. Something's brewing beneath the surface."
"You think it's Baroque Works?" Tashigi asked, adjusting her sword at her hip.
Smoker exhaled smoke through his nose. "I'd bet my cigars on it. And I've got a damn strong hunch that Crocodile's right in the middle of it all."
As they continued walking down the main road, weaving through the crowd, a lone young man passed by in the opposite direction.
His pace was casual, his gait blending in with the locals. He wore desert robes like any common traveler, his expression calm, almost carefree. But beneath that guise — Smoker's instincts flared.
A few steps later, Smoker stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes narrowed.
"…Hold it!" he barked, turning around sharply.
The young man halted, then slowly turned his head with a small, knowing smile.
"Long time no see, Smoker," said Zino, his voice calm but amused.
Smoker's eyes widened slightly, then sharpened like a dagger. "Monkey D. Zino."
His hand went straight to the handle of his Seastone-tipped jitte, muscles coiled with tension. "You've got a lot of nerve showing your face."
Tashigi stepped forward instinctively, on alert.
But Zino raised both hands lightly, still smiling. "Relax, Captain. I'm not here to fight. Not today."
"Then what the hell are you doing in Rainbase?" Smoker demanded.
"I'm looking for Crocodile," Zino replied coolly, his gaze steady. "Same as you, I imagine."
Smoker's eyes flicked to the side briefly. "You think I'm buying that?"
"You don't have to," Zino said. "But let's just say… our paths might be aligned. For now."
Tashigi's brow tightened behind her glasses. "What could you possibly want with the Shichibukai?"
Zino's smile wavered, his eyes narrowing slightly. His voice, when it came, was calm but edged with steel.
"Crocodile and his henchman, Baroque Work is causing trouble. So I'm here to STOP him."
The words hung in the air like a hammer waiting to drop.
For a beat, no one said anything. The sound of the bustling Rainbase streets seemed distant — drowned beneath the weight of tension crackling between them.
Then Zino broke the silence with a light shrug. "Well, let's go about our business separately, shall we?"
Smoker's glare hardened. "No can do."
He slowly walked forward, the twin cigars in his mouth burning hotter.
"I'm a Marine. You're a pirate. You think I'm just going to let you walk away?"
Zino chuckled softly, already bracing his legs as he felt the shift in air pressure.
"Knew you'd say that."
In a sudden burst, smoke coiled like a whip around Smoker's body. With a hiss, he vanished in a blur and lunged forward — his jitte drawn mid-movement.
Clang! Clack!
The weapon came down hard — once, twice — fast and precise. But Zino's reflexes were sharp. He danced back, narrowly avoiding both blows, the Seastone tip slamming into the cobbled ground with force.
"Fast," Zino muttered, his eyes sharp now. "But still not fast enough."
Smoker didn't answer. He just pressed the attack, his jitte a blur of silver and smoke.
"You Marines talk big," Zino said between sidesteps, "about justice, about law. But I find it funny…"
Whump!
He spun away from another stab.
"…that the same Marines who claim to fight for peace ally themselves with pirates."
"Don't lump me in with the government's decisions!" Smoker barked, swinging his weapon in a wide arc. "The Shichibukai were never my choice."
"But you still wear their uniform," Zino said, ducking low as the jitte sailed over his head. "And the Warlords still carry the Marine's blessing."
Smoker stabbed downward with crushing force — *crack!* — the ground split slightly where Zino had just been.
"I follow my own justice," Smoker growled, shoulders squared and eyes burning with conviction. "Not theirs."
Zino, who had just taken a few steps back, suddenly stopped. His playful demeanor faded. A cold stillness settled over him as he stared at the Marine.
"Justice, huh..." he said quietly. "Your justice only means something if you don't blindly judge everyone the same."
"All pirates are the same!" Smoker snarled, lunging forward, jitte aimed straight for Zino's chest.
But this time, Zino didn't dodge.
Clack!
He caught the end of Smoker's jitte — the Seastone-tipped weapon — with his bare hand.
"What?!"
Smoker's eyes widened in disbelief. "You... touched it?!"
He knew Zino was a Devil Fruit user. He should've been weakened the moment that Seastone made contact — yet Zino stood firm, gripping the weapon as if it were nothing more than steel.
"Sorry," Zino said, a cold grin creeping onto his lips. "But I'm not like the others."
Before Smoker could react, Zino vanished in a blur.
"Incoming!" came Zino's voice — suddenly right beside him.
Wham!
A solid punch struck Smoker who was not ready, sending him flying sideways like a cannonball. He slammed into the ground and skidded across the street, dust and debris flying up in his wake.
Groaning, Smoker twisted his body and turned into smoke mid-motion, trying to recover. But Zino was already in front of him again, his fist glowing with power.
"Nomu Touch." Zino called calmly.
Smoker flinched. His instincts kicked in. This time, he crossed his arms, bracing for impact.
"Hokoken!"
BOOM!
Zino's fist collided with Smoker's guard. A deafening shockwave erupted from the impact, shaking the nearby buildings and sending a gust of wind across the street. The force overwhelmed even Smoker's stance — he was launched backward like a ragdoll, crashing into a wall with a thunderous crack!
"Captain Smoker!" Tashigi cried out, panic in her voice as she rushed toward the crumbling wall where Smoker had crashed. Her blade was already drawn, the steel glinting under the harsh Rainbase sun.
Zino stepped forward slowly, his hands relaxed at his sides, but his presence heavy. He looked toward the cloud of smoke where Smoker was regaining his footing.
"You're too weak, Smoker," Zino said calmly. "In your current state, you don't have the strength to enforce justice on all pirates."
"Stop!" Tashigi shouted, moving in to block his path, her stance defensive. "I won't let you hurt Smoker-san again!"
Without hesitation, she lunged forward, her sword slicing through the air toward Zino.
Zino's body moved like water. He sidestepped her strike with ease, shifting behind her in a blink.
Thud!
His hand struck the back of her neck in a precise, swift motion.
Tashigi's eyes rolled back. She collapsed with a soft gasp, her sword clattering beside her.
"Tashigi!" Smoker growled, eyes wide as he staggered forward, still catching his breath.
"Relax," Zino said without malice. "She's just unconscious. I didn't hurt her."
Zino looked at Smoker with a solemn expression.
"Listen. It's noble to pursue justice — but there's a difference between justice and blind judgment. Not all pirates are evil… just like not all marines are good."
He turned to walk away.
"You... stop right there!" Smoker shouted, anger and pride burning in his voice.
Zino paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"You can't stop me, Smoker," he said, his tone firm but not mocking. "Your Logia powers don't work on me. Your weapons don't hurt me. And to be blunt…"
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Your fighting style? It sucks."
With that, Zino walked away for real, disappearing down the dusty street.
Smoker stood frozen in place, fists clenched, eyes locked on Zino's vanishing figure. Around him, the sounds of the busy city resumed, unaware of the moment of powerlessness just experienced by the marine.
For the first time in a long while, Captain Smoker of the Marines felt powerless.
And he hated it.