Getting carved across the back hadn't broken White-Robed Drunk.
Three chests did.
[Aaaaah— I'm cracked open!]
Chat howled.
[Karma speedrun complete!]
[Tried to copy Fisherman's luck and got… a coat and a flintlock?!]
[Only "Soru (exclusive point)" looks usable lol]
Flat on the infirmary cot, White-Robed stared at his loot. Windbreaker. Flintlock. And—
[Cannot use "Soru" exclusive point. Learn Soru first.]
"YOU'RE KIDDING ME."
Chat scheduled their daily ritual: eat, sleep, watch White-Robed suffer. He killed the stream, face down on the pillow, vowing to master Six Styles and "accidentally" stun Dasqi later.
…
Elsewhere, the Pay-With-Deaths crew kept farming "meaningful deaths." Each wipe mapped a slice of East Blue's power curve: bounty vs. muscle, enlisted ranks vs. real strength. Their stream held steady at 7–8 million concurrents.
Among the four-way channel, numbers were highest—constant cross-cutting between White-Robed, Sword-Shadow Flow, and Little Fisherman kept things lively. And the fourth feed?
Net-Addict Girl had finally drawn her own route.
Under a moon-slick sky, she followed the hand-inked chart Genshirō had slipped her, oar by oar toward Shells Town. The moment her sandals hit the pier, she heard it—relief spilling through the streets.
"Did you hear? Vice Admiral Garp arrives tomorrow!"
"For real? The Hero of the Marines?"
"They're taking Captain Morgan away—our nightmare's over!"
Faces shone, tired and hopeful. Net-Addict Girl's chest tightened. Dragon's words echoed: most common folk in this world lived under water that was always just over their heads.
"So this is the mission of the Freedom path?" she murmured, renting a tiny, scrubbed-clean room with the Beli Genshirō had pressed into her palm.
She slept on honest sheets and woke to a roar.
"The Hero of the Marines is here!"
Morning sun. 08:00 in-game. She slid on the headset and hit Go Live. The street had become a river; vendors craned from doorways; children sat on shoulders waving paper seagull flags.
Chat poured in—and immediately weaponized itself.
[@WhiteRobedOldThief Net-Addict Girl's in Shells Town. She's meeting Garp before you~]
[How's that back wound feeling now? Deeper or shallower than heartbreak?]
In Loguetown's ward, White-Robed re-connected, felt the stitched pain tug—and then felt the other pain when he read chat. The dog-head figurehead should've been his event. His jaw clenched.
Back in Shells, Net-Addict Girl pushed into the crowd, cloak hood low. A Marine trumpet blared—low, proud—rolling over tiled roofs. Harbor cranes turned. The sea wind changed.
Out beyond the breakwater, a giant warship slid through the morning haze, its dog-head prow snarling sunlight.
"Formation—eyes front!"
Boots pounded in cadence along the quay. A lean man trailed smoke like a banner on the far pier; Smoker watched in silence. Civilians surged as a line of Marines opened a corridor.
Net-Addict Girl's camera steadied on the gangplank as it thudded down.
A shadow stepped to the rail—broad shoulders, justice cloak, iron jaw—and a laugh like a cannon shot crashed over Shells Town.
"Gahahahaha!"
Vice Admiral Garp had arrived.
And just as cheers peaked, Net-Addict Girl felt the mission bead at her wrist vibrate—new objective blinking to life:
[Blend with the Marines. Approach the Hero. Confirm transfer of Morgan. Identify anomalies.]
She exhaled, slipped sideways, and let the crowd carry her toward the very heart of the Navy.
Hook: Above the harbor, a wind gust twisted banners the wrong way—salt air suddenly cold. For a heartbeat, Net-Addict Girl thought she saw a green cloak at a rooftop edge, watching the dog-head warship arrive… and then the shape was gone.
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
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