Shanks looked down from the deck at the man standing on the port, his red hair fluttering lazily in the sea breeze. The atmosphere, which moments ago had been filled with the clatter of supplies and casual chatter, subtly shifted. It wasn't heavy as there was no hostility, just alertness.
"A Marine Captain," Shanks said lightly, though his eyes were sharp. "What are you here to do, arrest us? We were just about to leave and won't cause you any trouble."
Smoker stood with his hands in his coat pockets, his posture relaxed but grounded, like a man who had already measured the situation and found no openings to exploit.
"No," Smoker replied calmly. "I have no intention of taking you in. Even if I wanted to, it would be pointless with Benn Beckman here." His gaze flicked briefly to Beckman before returning to Shanks. "I just have a question to ask."
Shanks blinked once. "Oh?" he said. "And what question is that?"
But as Shanks spoke, his attention shifted. Giovanni stood a little stiffly nearby, his expression tight, eyes locked onto Smoker with poorly concealed irritation. The cheer that usually clung to him like a second skin was nowhere to be found.
Shanks narrowed his eyes slightly and turned his head. "Gio," he said, voice calm but probing. "What is it? Do you know this Marine?"
Before Giovanni could answer, Beckman flicked his lighter, a soft click breaking the tension. He lit his cigarette and exhaled slowly.
"This is the Marine that messed Gio up pretty badly last night," Beckman said casually. "He didn't take that loss very well."
Shanks' expression changed instantly. The easygoing warmth drained from his face, replaced by something colder, sharper. He turned back to Smoker.
"Is that so," Shanks said flatly.
Smoker raised both hands, palms open, a universal sign of surrender. He looked directly at Giovanni.
"I have to apologize for that," Smoker said. "I acted in haste."
Giovanni clicked his tongue, irritation clear as he shifted the weight of the box in his arms. "Don't beat someone and then apologize," he snapped. "I don't need your pity."
Shanks glanced back at Giovanni. "Gio."
Giovanni met his eyes. The two locked gazes for a brief moment, no words were needed, just an understanding passing between them. Shanks studied him, then let out a slow breath.
"…Got it," Shanks said.
Smoker watched the exchange closely, his eyes narrowing. No way… right? he thought.
Ever since he was young, Smoker had idolized Gold D. Roger. He had studied the man, the crew, the legends. Faces etched into memory through wanted posters, stories, and whispered truths. And as he looked at this red-haired youth, his posture and his presence. An unsettling familiarity clawed at him.
There's no mistaking it…
Shanks turned back toward him. "Mr. Marine," he said casually, already lifting another box. "We're kind of in a hurry."
Smoker straightened. "Alright then. Just two questions."
Shanks didn't stop moving. "Make it quick."
Smoker nodded. "Alright. Number one. I'd like to know who the captain of this ship is."
Shanks paused just long enough to glance back over his shoulder.
"You're looking at him right now."
A chill ran down Smoker's spine. That simple answer more or less confirmed everything he feared. Still, he pressed on.
He narrowed his eyes. "Last question," he said. "Would you, by any chance, happen to be Shanks. A remnant of the Pirate King Gold D. Roger's crew?"
Shanks didn't hesitate.
"Without doubt." He said calmly.
Smoker broke into a sweat almost instantly.
This is bad… this is really bad.
A prodigy of the Roger Pirates had started his own crew. History wasn't just repeating itself, it was moving forward.
Smoker swallowed and asked, "What is your goal for starting a new crew? Is it for the One Piece?"
Shanks picked his box back up.
"Your two questions are finished," he said simply, turning away.
"Wait—!" Smoker stepped forward, instinctively reaching out.
In a blur of motion, Beckman's pistol was suddenly raised, the barrel aimed squarely at Smoker.
"The captain said your questions are up," Beckman said evenly.
Smoker froze, then slowly raised his hands again. He watched as Shanks disappeared onto the ship without looking back.
Giovanni hefted his box and glanced over his shoulder. "Captain Smoker," he said quietly. "I'll remember you. And I'll come back to get it back in blood."
He turned and walked toward the ship.
Smoker ground his teeth.
Building Snake followed without a word, steps steady. Beckman was the last to turn, giving Smoker one final, unreadable look before boarding. The stairs were pulled up, ropes creaking.
Shanks stepped onto the deck and shouted brightly, "Open the sails! Destination. Sabaody Archipelago!"
"Yes, Captain!" the crew shouted in unison.
Giovanni and Beckman climbed the pillars with practiced ease, dropping the sails as the ship caught the wind. Building Snake moved to the wheel, hands firm. His role as the crew's unofficial helmsman already taking shape.
The ship pulled away from the port.
Smoker watched in silence as it headed toward Reverse Mountain.
"…Sabaody Archipelago, huh," he muttered.
---
After sailing for some time, the sea ahead began to change. The horizon rose unnaturally, water flowing upward like a colossal river defying the sky.
Giovanni rushed to the front of the ship, eyes wide with shock and excitement. "What is this?!" he exclaimed.
Shanks joined him, standing shoulder to shoulder, grinning like a child. "Welcome to Reverse Mountain. You're the only one experiencing it for the first time."
Then Shanks clicked his tongue. "Damn it, you lucky bastard. How I wish I could experience it for the first time all over again."
Giovanni clutched his head. "How is the water going upwards?! How does that make sense?!"
Benn Beckman lounged casually nearby, one hand braced against the ship as he smoked. "That right there," he said with a chuckle, "is the entrance to the Grand Line. Four currents from the four Blues are being forced uphill along the Red Line. Reverse Mountain works because the sea is pushed upward by pressure through narrow channels. Once your ship enters the current, you're no longer in control, you're being carried."
"That's so cool!" Giovanni said. "It's like the ship goes automatic!"
"It's not cool," Building Snake said from the wheel. "Entering Reverse Mountain is dangerous. If your ship isn't properly aligned when the water grabs you, it turns sideways. At that speed, the rock walls tear it apart. You can't slow down or change course once you're in. That's why a helmsman matters. You only get one chance."
Giovanni and Shanks turned back with wide grins and thumbs up.
"That's why we have you, right Snake?" they said together.
Building Snake began to sweat. "B-But I'm not a helmsman, I'm a navigator."
Then his expression hardened, resolve settling in. "But I'll make sure we reach the Grand Line in one piece, even if it costs me my life."
Giovanni laughed. "If it costs you your life, wouldn't that mean we failed?"
Building Snake froze. "…Yes. That's what it means actually."
Beckman chuckled.
The ship surged forward. Building Snake aligned it perfectly as the current seized them, speed skyrocketing. He stumbled back slightly; Beckman tightened his grip to steady himself.
Shanks and Giovanni laughed wildly, clinging to the bow as water slammed into them.
"LETS GOOOOOOOOOO!!!" they shouted together.
The ship rode Reverse Mountain and crossed safely.