[Start of Volume 2]
Loguetown, the docks.
Ahua, Alo, and Ata hauled crates onto the Freedom, box by box.
Food, weapons, clothes—everything they needed, but mostly freshwater and carrots.
To stock up on carrots, the trio had scoured every market in Loguetown.
Around them, a ring of Marines stood at a distance.
This time, the Marines were smarter—no rifles raised. Their colonel was still battling the enemy's second-in-command on the streets!
And it looked like he was losing.
The docks were empty of civilians, sealed off by the Navy.
"Karukaru!!"
"You sure you can eat all these carrots?" Dr. Indigo stood by the ship, hoisting supplies with ropes, eyeing the deck piled high with carrots and laughing. "Anyone'd think we're raising a rabbit farm!"
"Karukaru!"
"Stop laughing," Ahua said, adjusting his glasses, nodding proudly at his carrot crate. "These are our key to getting stronger!"
He couldn't wait to use the carrots to kickstart his training.
Since childhood, he, Alo, and Ata dreamed of training like Kuina and Zoro under Sora.
Their weak bodies had held them back, leaving their skills, frankly, pathetic.
But now? Things were different.
Jumping aboard, Ahua gazed at the carrot mountain, eyes red with excitement.
The thought of growing stronger sprouted rabbit ears on his head.
With a puff of white smoke—poof!—he transformed into a plump, upright rabbit.
He still couldn't control his Zoan fruit; strong emotions triggered full rabbit form.
He couldn't even hold beast-human mode.
"Hey!" Alo glared at Ahua, annoyed. "What're you doing? Sneaking a snack again?"
Ahua had already munched through a crate en route.
If Alo and Ata hadn't watched him, they swore this pile wouldn't last him a day.
Since eating their fruits, Ahua and Alo had become bottomless pits. Alo, once the lightest eater, now out-ate everyone aboard.
Sora's take? They were finally "developing." The more they ate, the faster they grew.
"Kuina's still fighting!" Ata, hauling a stack of planks, stood by the ship, smoking a cigarette, watching Kuina and Smoker's duel.
This smoky guy, guardian of the East Blue's biggest Marine base, was holding his own against Kuina this long.
Ata propped the planks against the ship, turning to the others. "Hey, you two, quit slacking! Help out. The sooner we're done, the sooner we leave when Sora's back."
He shook his head, flicking ash with his finger, staring at the distant sea, eyes glinting with excitement. "The Great Line, huh? Can't wait."
Just then, from Loguetown's smoke-shrouded gate, a sharp crack of shattering metal rang out.
Zooming in, Smoker's jutte, worn from the prolonged fight, finally broke under Kuina's legendary blade, WadoIchimonji.
It snapped clean in two.
"You're done," Kuina said.
Smoker tilted his head, eyeing the gleaming blade at his throat, exhaling slowly.
He tossed the broken jutte half, spat out his cigar stubs, and, with trembling hands, pulled fresh cigars from his chest, lighting them.
Looking through the smoke at Kuina, his eyes held a flicker of confusion.
He knew he'd lose, but the moment of defeat stung with reluctance.
"What?" Kuina frowned, noticing his silence. "Still want to fight?"
"No. A loss is a loss. Get going," Smoker said, taking a deep drag, staring at Kuina as he dispelled the surrounding smoke. "What's your goal on the Great Line? And who taught you the Navy Six Powers?"
Clink!
Kuina sheathed her blade, walking past Smoker. "The Great Line? Adventure, obviously. As for your 'Navy Six Powers,' no idea what you're talking about."
Ignoring him, she brushed past Tashigi, who rushed toward them, and strode through a parting crowd of Marines, calmly heading to the Freedom.
"Colonel Smoker, are you okay?" Tashigi asked, concern in her eyes.
"I'm fine," Smoker said, glancing at her, then fixing on Kuina's retreating figure, his gaze sharpening. "Adventure, huh?"
He wasn't sure if Kuina was truthful, but this crew was unlike typical pirates.
Were they fresh out of the East Blue, still green? Or was some Navy figure guiding them, making them so distinct?
No time to dwell. He puffed his cigar, blowing a thick ring, and turned to a nearby Marine. "Know where 'Silver-Haired Sora' is?"
He'd scanned their ship—no sign of Sora.
"Per reports, Silver-Haired is likely at the central square's execution platform," the Marine replied.
"Execution platform," Smoker muttered.
"Yessir! The platform," the Marine added. "After hitting the 'Gol D. Roger' tavern for liquor, Silver-Haired went straight to the square and stayed there as of my last update."
Smoker stared toward the square, lost in thought.
Execution platform. Pirate King. Roger.
"Silver-Haired Sora, what's your game?"
Then, as if summoned, Sora appeared.
At the street's end, a silver-haired figure staggered, a massive liquor barrel strapped to his back—a dashing guy, flushed red.
He moved deceptively slow but blindingly fast, like a flicker, appearing before Smoker in a blink, his street afterimages still fading.
Hic!
Sora slapped Smoker's shoulder, laughing. "Smoky, you're done already? Thought you'd drag it out longer!"
He glanced at the broken jutte, understanding flashing in his eyes. "Hahaha! You're kinda pathetic, huh?"
Patting Smoker's shoulder, his tone turned serious. "Like this, you'll never uphold your beliefs."
"Wait two years. Big events will hit, one after another. You'll be left behind."
Smoker puffed his cigars, standing loose despite his wounds, blood still seeping from his chest. Too weak to resist Sora, he endured.
But "two years" caught him. "Two years?" He frowned, eyes sharp. "Explain. What happens in two years? Why then?"
"Uh… did I say something?" Sora's eyes cleared briefly, then clouded again. Shaking his head, he moved past Smoker, glancing at Tashigi. "And you, Miss Tashigi, better step up if you want to chase your ideals!"
He flashed her a thumbs-up. "Otherwise, you and Smoky will rot in the East Blue, clinging to your laughable dreams."
"The future world won't always have nice folks like us!"
Swaying, he shuffled past them toward his crew waiting at the ship's bow.
A few steps later, he vanished, reappearing on the Freedom's deck.
He plopped the liquor barrel down, sprawling in a deckchair like a boneless slouch. "Hahaha! Let's go!"
"Partners, set sail for the Great Line!"
"Woohoo!" Ahua, Alo, and Ata cheered, springing into action.
Under the gaze of countless Marines, the Freedom sped toward the open sea.
…
(End of Chapter)