Grand Line — Paradise
The first half of the Grand Line had been surprisingly calm.
A few hours after they crossed Fishman Island under the Red line, Ace and Yamato finally reached the end of Paradise—the island closest to the New World, a place sailors called Sabody Archipelago. Rumor said this island was the last checkpoint before hell itself.
But for Ace and Yamato?
It was just another place to blend in and rest.
Of course, "blend in" was easier said than done.
Ace had changed his appearance entirely, shifting his features and build with the same ease he controlled fire. And Yamato—well, she simply put on a cap and changed clothes. Fortunately for her, no bounty poster had ever revealed her true face. In Onigashima she always wore a mask, so to the world she was just an unknown tall woman with horns hidden under a hat.
Both walked into the crowd without a single person turning to stare.
For Yamato, it was her first taste of anonymity.
For Ace, it was peace.
---
Yamato clung to her copy of Oden's journal like it was scripture itself. Every few minutes she'd gasp, point at some street food, some festival banner, some strange creature, then excitedly read a passage from the journal.
"Ace! Oden wrote about this stall! Look—look! He says their squid balls were legendary!"
Ace just smiled.
He'd never say it out loud, but watching Yamato discover the world made the whole journey… warmer. He felt the world come alive again—vibrant, noisy, chaotic—but in a good way.
They spent an entire afternoon at the amusement park:
Yamato screaming on rides, Ace getting dizzy, Yamato dragging him to try snacks, Ace pretending he wasn't having fun.
It was peaceful. Too peaceful.
Which is exactly why Ace's next destination made zero sense to Yamato.
---
Shakky's Rip-off Bar
When Ace stopped in front of a small, dimly lit bar tucked between two shops, Yamato frowned.
"Ace, why… here? You haven't drunk anything since we left Wano. I thought you didn't drink at all."
Ace scratched his cheek.
He didn't like drinking. Not in his previous life. Not in this one. Maybe his parents being conservative had something to do with it. Maybe the fact that he didn't grow up in regions where alcohol was a necessity. Whatever the reason—rum, sake, beer… it simply wasn't a part of him.
But this trip wasn't about drinks.
It was about information.
The bar was empty except for a single woman behind the counter—calm, older, elegant, with sharp eyes that made Ace stop in place.
Shakuyaku. Shakky.
His target.
Ace paused, sighing internally.
He still couldn't understand how in this damn world, older women somehow "got shorter" with age. Ugly? Fine, he could understand that. But shorter? Who wrote that rule?
At least Shakky was one of the exceptions. She hadn't become particularly ugly or misshapen like other characters he remembered. She was almost exactly as he imagined—just… older.
She saw Ace and Yamato enter and raised an eyebrow.
"Welcome. What'll you two have?"
Ace didn't bother with small talk.
"I want information. About Marshall D. Teach."
Immediately her expression shifted—calmer, sharper.
"...Ten million berries," she said flatly.
Ace's mouth twitched.
Ten million? He was practically bankrupt even before he became Ace. He had run away from restaurants without paying. Ten million berries was a cosmic joke.
But he had something else.
Identity.
Ace sighed, took a seat, and said:
"Well… I know Rayleigh."
Shakky's fingers paused.
Her eyes narrowed.
World government agent? Cipher Pol?
For a moment she looked ready to kill him if he made one wrong move.
Before she could act, Ace continued:
"My father knows him… so… I don't have money right now. I'll be taking a loan."
Yamato blinked.
Shakky blinked harder.
"A loan?" she repeated.
Ace pulled out a bag and rummaged through it.
Shakky frowned.
"I've never seen you before. And I haven't heard of you either. If you're taking a loan under your father's name… who exactly is he?"
Ace hesitated.
Then muttered:
"...My father is Whitebeard."
That was all she needed.
Her face instantly changed.
"Oh. Whitebeard, huh?"
Ace face turn to into embarassment.
"Um… proof?"
He slowly placed a Den Den Mushi on the counter and dialed.
After a few rings—
"Gurarararara… what do you need, brat?"
Whitebeard's unmistakable voice echoed from the snail.
Ace exhaled.
Perfect.
"I need information from Shakky, but she's asking for ten million. So I'm taking a loan. You'll be paying it."
On the other end, Whitebeard chuckled deeply.
He knew exactly who Shakky was. And more importantly—he knew who her husband was.
No way he was disrespecting Rayleigh's wife.
"Fine. Don't cause trouble."
Shakky didn't even blink.
Ten million was guaranteed now.
She began writing on a sheet of paper, jotting down everything Ace needed—Teach's movements, the island chain he passed through, and even the string of mysterious accidents Blackbeard suffered after entering Paradise.
When she finished, she handed it to Ace.
He nodded, pocketed the paper, and left the bar without a single extra word.
Yamato followed behind him silently—half confused, half impressed.
As for impression she also wanted to find someone and say " My father is Kaido. "
---
After leaving Shakky's bar, Ace and Yamato spent nearly thirty minutes wandering through the clustered groves of Sabaody Archipelago, searching for a place to stay. Sabody archipelago was lively, loud, and chaotic compared to their previous islands. The hotels here were expensive—ridiculously expensive—and Ace certainly didn't have the kind of money these places demanded.
Luckily… someone else did.
A pirate crew happened to swagger out of a casino nearby, their captain flipping gold coins between his fingers. The man's bounty was a pitiful 4 million, and before he could even flex his chest outward, Ace walked past him with a smile and said,
"Thanks for the donation."
Five seconds later, the man was unconscious, face buried in the dirt, and his money pouch was gone.
Yamato blinked. Ace whistled.
And the pirate, once awake, absolutely did not complain—because Ace had politely broken his jaw.
That night, Ace and Yamato finally checked into a quiet hotel deep inside one of the inner groves. It wasn't fancy, but it was safe, and more importantly… peaceful. For the first time since entering the Grand Line, they slept on soft beds without the smell of sea salt and storms.
Yamato fell asleep instantly. Ace stayed awake a little longer, thinking.
Maybe I will meet Luffy soon.
Just the thought made his lips twitch a little.
He didn't know why.
But the idea warmed him.
---
The Next Morning
They left the hotel after breakfast—well, Yamato ate breakfast; Ace ate an apple—and started walking toward the docks where they had tied their boat.
Ace was mid-sentence, "We'll head deeper into Paradise. Maybe take a small detour to meet Luffy—"
When a panicked scream tore through the entire grove:
"CELESTIAL DRAGONS ARE COMING!"
"RUN! RUN! DON'T LOOK AT THEM!"
"MOVE YOUR CHILDREN INSIDE—NOW!"
The crowd scattered like ants kicked off a hill.
Yamato froze.
"…Why are they shouting like that? Celestial Dragons? Why—"
Before she could finish the question, Ace grabbed her hand—hard—and dragged her into a narrow alley in the shade of a mangrove trunk.
His face had suddenly gone cold.
Too cold.
"A–Ace?" Yamato whispered.
"Yamato," Ace said quietly, voice dropping to a level she rarely heard.
"Don't use Observation Haki right now. And don't move from this spot. Not even one step."
Yamato's eyes widened.
Ace had never spoken like this before.
Never this serious.
Never this… dangerous.
"…Okay. I won't move," she whispered.
Ace nodded once.
Then he vanished—like smoke blown by the wind.
Yamato remained rooted to the spot, her fingers tightening unconsciously around her kanabo. Her heart beat faster. Not out of fear… but out of confusion.
Why would he react like this just from hearing 'Celestial Dragons'?
But she obeyed.
---
Ace moved silently through the shifting crowd, slipping between panicked civilians, masked by the commotion. His Observation Haki stretched out like a thin net, tracing the direction of the screams, the fear, the kneeling bodies.
And then he saw them.
Two Celestial Dragons.
A man and a woman, dressed in disgusting bubble-head suits, sitting lazily atop a sleigh pulled by—
A human.
And a fishman.
Not walking.
Crawling.
The Celestial Dragons were laughing, playing some twisted game. A pistol in their hands, casually firing at anything that moved. They didn't aim. They didn't care.
When a bullet struck a civilian's shoulder, the female Dragon clapped her hands like a child receiving candy.
The man laughed louder, pulling the trigger again.
People bowed.
People begged.
People didn't even run.
They just knelt… and hoped they wouldn't be the next target.
Behind them marched CP agents, stiff, expressionless, guarding their masters like loyal dogs.
Ace felt his stomach twist.
A deeper rage than he'd felt in Wano.
Deeper than anything he'd seen in the East Blue.
This was rot.
This was sickness.
This was what he hated about this world.
He wanted to incinerate them right there.
But he forced himself to breathe—slow and controlled.
Not yet.
He slipped behind a merchant's stall, eyes scanning his surroundings.
There.
Resting on a display was a katana—cheap, but sharp. Nothing special, but enough.
Ace picked it up slowly, testing its weight.
His heartbeat was steady.
His eyes were cold.
The Celestial Dragons laughed again.
Ace tightened his grip on the katana.
---