"Shichibukai? No way—what's a big-shot like that doing here?"
"The world's greatest swordsman… Hawkeye Mihawk. Those eyes are terrifying…"
The moment his name was spoken aloud, the mood on the street changed. Passers-by instinctively backed away, creating distance as though they might be cut just by standing nearby. It wasn't surprising that Smoker recognized him. Someone like Mihawk didn't walk around unnoticed.
Mihawk turned his head calmly, his grip still firm on my arm. "I don't recall doing anything that warrants interference from the Navy."
Smoker's gaze hardened as he reached one hand to his weapon. "Let her go. In front of this many people, where exactly are you planning to take her?"
His left arm turned into smoke—dense enough to hold shape, but ready to disperse in any direction. A Logia user through and through.
Mihawk gave a quiet snort. "The Navy is truly generous. Does it matter where I take her?"
"If she wanted to follow you, then of course not. But I clearly saw her resisting. And this is my jurisdiction. I won't allow a pirate to violate the law in Rogue Town."
Uh-oh. This was escalating fast. I looked up and saw a dangerous glint in Mihawk's eye. He clearly didn't want a fight — at least not here. Though he was Shichibukai, killing a Navy officer stationed in town wouldn't go unnoticed, especially one like Smoker. Even for "Warlords of the Sea," there were political limits.
"Do your eyes really see that she doesn't want to follow me?" Mihawk asked calmly.
"I don't! Let me go!" I twisted my wrist desperately, trying to break free — but his grip tightened like a real eagle catching prey. No escape whatsoever.
Smoker nodded toward the crowd. "Everyone heard that, right? She said she doesn't want to. What else do you have to say, Mihawk?"
Mihawk went quiet. I could sense it in his body — he was trying to be reasonable. He really was just taking me to a doctor… possibly out of guilt over taking Rachel. But this man was terrifyingly direct. If Smoker pushed him any further… someone was going to die.
"I'm only taking her to see a doctor," Mihawk said quietly. "She's badly injured."
"Injured?" Smoker squinted at me. I was standing, energetic, practically glowing with health thanks to the Crimson armor's instant recovery. "Funny… because she doesn't look injured at all. You might want a better excuse than that."
"My injury is healed already! Completely fine!" I snapped, and then — desperate — I bit Mihawk's arm like a rabid dog.
"…Are you a dog?" he muttered, genuinely baffled.
Let go, you big hawk bastard!! Even if I'm stuck in Kiana's body now — I'm still a boy inside! I have my pride too!
"Hurry up and let me go! I already gave Rachel back to you! What more do you want?!"
"You're still injured. If you keep struggling like this and make it worse, even the gods won't be able to save you."
He dragged me forward with ease. The crowd cleared a path as if they'd rehearsed it. Not a single person dared block the world's strongest swordsman.
But Smoker wasn't letting it go.
"DON'T IGNORE ME, BASTARD!" he roared.
A stick-like weapon with a hooked blade — Ten Hands — flashed into Smoker's grasp as his left arm dispersed into smoke. He lunged forward, attacking Mihawk head-on.
…Too slow.
That thought wasn't even spoken — it was almost audible from Mihawk's calm expression. He tilted his head just slightly, sidestepping the strike. With a single swift motion, he cloaked his hand in Armament Haki, grabbed Smoker's smoke-form hand, and yanked him forward like reeling in a fish.
Then came a punch.
BANG!Smoker blasted backward — smashing through several walls with a violent rumble, leaving debris and dust exploding into the air.
"Colonel Smoker?!"
People gasped. In their eyes, Smoker was a man who couldn't be touched — but Mihawk had sent him flying with a single punch.
Sitting amid rubble, Smoker coughed up blood — his ribs clearly damaged. He still managed to stand.
"I won't kill you…" Mihawk said, voice cold as sharpened steel. "…But if you attack again — there won't be a next time."
Smoker stood his ground, blood sliding from his lips but his eyes unwavering. "Even if I die… I'll stop you. That's the justice I believe in."
Ah—this was bad. VERY bad.
Before things spiraled even further, I suddenly burst out, "That's enough, Smoker! Don't fight him! I only argued with Mihawk earlier — he really is trying to take me to a doctor!"
Everyone froze.
Even Mihawk looked confused.
Yes, yes. If Smoker died because of me… the plot of One Piece would go WAY off track. Luffy hasn't even arrived at Rogue Town yet! I can't be the butterfly that causes the Revolutionary Army to fail or something!
"M-Mihawk saved me yesterday when my shipwrecked," I continued. "He really isn't doing anything strange to me. But… thank you for stepping in and trying to protect me."
Smoker blinked. "…Kiana, was that the truth?"
"Yeah. I promise."
Mihawk narrowed his eyes. "Wait. How did you know her name was Kiana?"
Oh crap.
"You two know each other?" he asked.
"That's not important!" I quickly shoved Mihawk forward. "Didn't you say we're going to the doctor? Then move!"
I glanced back and whispered to Smoker, "By the way… has my bounty been issued yet?"
"…You can collect it anytime," he replied, puzzled.
Yes!! I sighed in relief. The moment I confirm I'm medically fine, I'll ditch Mihawk, collect my 300 million belly, buy a ship, and set sail straight for the Grand Line! With my system and my phone map radar, I'll detect Mihawk miles away before he even approaches!
As Mihawk dragged me away, Smoker stared silently — clearly skeptical. But he didn't give chase right away.
…That is, until a few moments passed.
Then he picked up his Ten Hands, slung it behind his back, and quietly began tailing us.
Mihawk noticed instantly. "He followed. A man with conviction, at least."
"I already told you. My injuries are gone, I'm a Devil Fruit user — I can heal myself!" I insisted.
"Your ability is splitting into clones. I'm not blind. I saw it yesterday," Mihawk replied flatly.
"…I can heal too."
"Then let's just confirm it. Once the doctor says you're fine, I won't bother you."
"Then why don't you just leave me now, huh?! Stop pretending to be a good person after stealing Rachel!"
That one landed. He said nothing for a few seconds. Maybe guilt really was eating at him. That would explain why he kept insisting on a doctor — a half-hearted attempt at making amends.
Eventually, we stopped in front of a worn-out sign — shaped like a wine bottle.
"Here," Mihawk said. "Let's go in."
I blinked. "Didn't you say 'doctor'? Why are we at a bar?"
"The doctor I mentioned likes to drink. He should be here at this hour."
…Drinking during the day? Does he even remember medical school?
Well. Whatever. The sooner I'm cleared, the sooner I'm FREE.
…I hope.