Shipwright Town Port Docks
Three days had passed since Ghost Hand Rowan had wiped out Old Cai, Abu, and their men. The journey from Flower Country to Shipwright Town was not long, and even while dragging a massive branch of adam wood, they arrived at noon on the fourth day.
In Rowan's private training cabin, five sandbags swung continuously around him. He stood in the center, eyes closed, punching the swinging bags in a steady rhythm.
Most of the time, he struck all five, though occasionally a bag slipped past, striking him in the head or shoulder.
Mastering Observation Haki was proving far harder than Rowan had imagined. Three days of near-continuous training had only brought him to the threshold of a pathtrue mastery would take much more time.
Haki was a latent power within every living person, yet most never realized it existed, let alone trained it. The first step was to perceive it, to feel its presence. Only then could one strengthen it through repeated practice.
The first step, Rowan knew, was always the hardest.
Just as he focused, closing his eyes to sense the flow of Haki around him, the cabin door knocked. Robin's calm voice came from outside:
"Captain Rowan, we've arrived at the docks of Shipwright Town."
"I know."
Rowan exhaled, opened his eyes, halted the swinging sandbags, and paused a moment to recollect the nuances of his training before stepping out.
Outside, the docks of Shipwright Town stretched wide. The island itself was modest in size, smaller than Flower Country, but the harbor was far larger. Piles of cargo stacked high along the quays hinted at its shipbuilding prominence.
"This isn't Flower Country. Pirates might not be welcomed here," Robin said, walking beside him.
Rowan shrugged. "Pirates aren't meant to be welcomed. Let's go."
Leaving the handymen aboard as before, Rowan and Robin disembarked and approached the bustling docks.
Spotting a laborer moving ship timber, Rowan tossed a gold coin and asked bluntly:
"Who is the best shipwright here?"
The worker froze for a moment, startled by the pirate stepping off a ship. But the gold coin caught his attention, and a smile spread across his face.
"All our shipwrights are skilled," he said. "But if you want the very best, that's Kukuror Fitz. He rarely takes commissions, but the few ships he's built are famous."
"Old Fitz… Kukuror Fitz?" Robin's eyes widened slightly.
"Yes," the worker nodded. "He hasn't built a ship in years. Not many people even know he's in town."
Rowan glanced at Robin, curiosity piqued. "Who is Kukuror Fitz?"
Robin tapped her chin, thoughtful. "I heard of him during my intelligence gathering. The Red-Haired Shanks' ship was built by him. Shanks is…"
"One of the Four Emperors," Rowan finished, eyes widening. A shipwright trusted by a Yonko on a small West Blue islandunexpected, but welcome.
"Where does he live?" Rowan asked.
"Go straight along this road, take a right at the second street. There's a small, dilapidated wooden house. That's him."
Following the directions, Rowan and Robin passed two streets and found the single-story house. Outside, a rough-looking group gathered, emanating obvious hostility.
"Captain, is this a trick? Would the best shipwright live in a place like this?" one scar-faced man muttered to a comrade carrying a wide-bladed greatsword.
"Forget appearances. Call him out and see," the man replied.
A man stepped forward, kicked the door, and shouted, "Hey! You in there! Our Captain wants to see you!"
Silence.
He kicked againtwice morethen coughing interrupted the quiet.
Cough! Cough!
From inside the house, a gray-bearded old man in ragged clothes emerged, roughly fifty or sixty years old.
Looking at him, the pirates scowled. "Is this really the best shipwright? That old man lied to us," one muttered.
The old man raised a hand to his mouth, coughed twice, took a sip from a small cup of wine, and sighed.
"Ah… looking for the best shipwright? Then you found him. My skills are not bad," he said calmly.
The pirates hesitated. One spoke: "Our Captain wants you to build a ship."
"Oh," Fitz said, nodding slightly. "I won't."
The pirates' eyes widened. One drew a pistol. "Do you know who our Captain is? Cooperate, or die."
"Your captain, huh…" Fitz murmured. With a flick of his wrist, a pistol appeared in his hand. One shot later, a pirate's head dropped. He blew on the muzzle and sighed. "I don't care."
The remaining pirates scrambled for their weaponsbut clear footsteps sounded behind them.
"Excuse me, please move."
Rowan stepped forward, pressing his hands against two of the pirates' shoulders. Bones snapped audibly as their bodies twisted, and they collapsed.
Shock spread through the gathered pirates. Their eyes fell on Rowan, pupils constricting in fear.
"You are…"
Crack! Crack!
Rowan continued, the sound of breaking bones following his every step. Some tried to flee, only to have Robin's Thirty Fleur Hook Claw twist their necks from behind.
Fitz, who had initially ignored the pirates, froze when he saw Robin. Recognition crossed his features.
"Ol… Olvia? No… you're Olvia's…"
Robin, usually calm and composed, showed her first moment of unguarded surprise.
Olvia.
Full name: Nico Olvia, one of the archaeologists of Ohara… and Robin's mother.