On the third night after leaving the Moby Dick, Giovanni finally found the ship.
Marco's kick had carried him through only the first violent stretch across the dark ocean. The remainder of the journey had become a grueling test of endurance. A miserable chain of Sky Walk bursts across empty water, brief rests snatched aboard passing merchant vessels, and half a night spent clinging to a drift-bound broken mast while his damaged shoulder throbbed with every swell. Fortunately, the ship had turned southwest to search for him, cutting the distance between them.
By the time its familiar hull appeared illuminated beneath the clouds, Giovanni had just enough energy left for one final, plunging descent and almost none left for the landing.
The main deck of the ship was in the middle of a chaotic dinner when the wind screamed around his drop.
Giovanni slammed straight into the central mess table with a thunderous crash, shattering wooden platters and sending roasted meat, ale mugs, and soup bowls flying in every direction. Silence fell over the deck for half a second.
"What the—" Lucky Roux dropped his meat leg, gaping.
"Is that a bird?" Yasopp yelled, ducking behind a barrel.
Giovanni lay flat on his back among the splintered timber, groaning as the impact vibrated through his ribs. His dark coat was torn and salt-stiff, his hair whipped into complete disorder.
Before he could push himself up, a dark shape blurred across the deck. Robin collided with him, tackling him back down onto the ruined wood and burying her face against his chest. Giovanni grunted as the air left his lungs, but he instinctively brought his left arm around her.
"You're back," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
A second later, realizing the entire crew was staring, twelve-year-old Robin abruptly pushed herself off him, smoothing her skirts with exaggerated poise. "I slipped," she said smoothly, keeping her chin high to mask the flush on her cheeks. "The deck was slick with gravy."
"Right. Gravy," Shanks snorted, leaning back in his chair with a wide grin. But before the captain could offer a proper welcome, Hongo pushed his way through the crowd, his medical kit already open in his hands.
The ship's doctor took one look at Giovanni's state, grabbed him by the jaw, turned his face side to side, and then began aggressively probing his right shoulder. Giovanni winced.
"Reopened right-shoulder wound," Hongo listed in a flat, clinically furious voice, pressing carefully around the blood-stained bandages. "Deep bruising along the ribs. Strained muscles across the back. Dehydration, sleep deprivation, and fresh impact bruising because apparently the deck was too ordinary a place to land." He looked up, his eyes narrowing. "You've been gone for over a week, Gio, and you've turned yourself into a medical inventory. Stay still before I sedate you."
An hour later, after Hongo had patched his shoulder and forced painkillers, water, and several bitter herbal draughts down his throat, Giovanni sat in the captain's quarters surrounded by the core crew.
He laid it all out. He spoke continuously for nearly forty minutes, recounting Wano, Oden Castle, Toki and Hiyori's escape, Loki's disaster on Elbaf, the interrupted duel with Mihawk, Moria's attack, and everything that followed aboard the Moby Dick, including Whitebeard's promise to defend the Kozuki family.
When Giovanni recounted how Ida had dragged him across the Elbaf coast by his ear for recklessly endangering himself, Shanks threw his head back and laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his seat.
"Ida dragged you?" Shanks wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. "A giant warrior woman pulled the great Gio of the Red-Haired Pirates by his ear like a naughty child? I wish I'd seen that!"
"She had a valid point," Beckman noted dryly, leaning against the bulkhead with his arms crossed.
Shanks's laughter died down, replaced by a sudden, razor-sharp focus as Giovanni reached the end of his report. Repeating the exact information Gecko Moria had traded him regarding his father.
The room grew quiet.
"Norwell D. Renji," Beckman said, cutting straight through any potential speculation. He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of gray smoke into the lantern light. "Missing for years. And Moria claims he's being held in Impel Down's Level 3."
"Level 3. The Starvation Hell," Shanks said softly, his red hair casting a dark shadow over his eyes. His casual expression vanished entirely, replaced by the quiet authority of the Red-Haired captain.
Giovanni's eyes drifted toward the corner of the room. Sitting on a sturdy wooden shelf, bound in iron chains, was a heavy, seastone-lined case. Inside, visible through the reinforced glass top, rested the dark-silver Dog-Dog Fruit, Model: Fenrir, its skin covered in claw-and-fang spiral patterns.
Giovanni looked back at his captain. He took a deep breath, setting his left hand flat on the table.
"I need to go to Impel Down," Giovanni said directly, looking around at the gathered crew. "Renji left behind an empty chair, a sword, and a lifetime of questions. But saving strangers in Wano was easy compared to facing the man who abandoned my mother and me. I need answers. I'm asking you to help me bring my father home—"
"Yes," Shanks interrupted smoothly.
Giovanni paused, blinking. "I haven't even finished explaining the risk—"
"I don't care," Shanks grinned, leaning his elbows on the table. "You're my crew member. You're family. Did you really think we were going to let you storm the World Government's impenetrable underwater fortress by yourself?"
"We'd look pretty foolish letting the kid have all the fun," Yasopp chuckled, patting his rifle.
"Besides, Hongo needs someone to monitor your vitals so you don't die on the way in," Roux added, biting into a fresh joint of meat.
Around the table, the answer spread without ceremony. Building Snake gave one firm nod. Limejuice grinned as though prison-breaking had already become the week's entertainment. Bonk Punch folded his arms while Monster slapped both hands against the tabletop in approval. Even Hongo only sighed and began mentally listing the medical supplies he would need.
From the back of the room, Robin stepped forward, her dark eyes fixed entirely on Giovanni. Her posture was calm, but her intent was unshakeable.
"I am coming with you," she stated quietly.
Giovanni turned to her, frowning slightly. "Robin, Impel Down is an underwater tomb. The World Government—"
"You walked straight into hell for me in Dressrosa when CP0 was hunting me," Robin interrupted, her voice firm, cutting off his protest instantly. "You didn't ask for permission, and you didn't let me forbid you. You cannot forbid me from returning the favor."
Giovanni stared at her for a moment, then let out a quiet, defeated breath. A genuine smile touched his face. "Fair enough."
Beckman pushed off from the bulkhead. He walked over to the central table, sweeping away the empty mugs and unrolling a thick, heavily detailed map bearing the crest of the World Government. A stolen navigational chart of the Calm Belt and the Grand Line's primary judicial currents.
"If we're raiding the Great Prison," Beckman said, tapping his finger against the heavily fortified island marked in the center of the ocean, "then we do this properly. We are going to break the prison no one escapes."
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