The sun was shining,
The sea sparkled in all directions
A perfect day to set sail.
The battleship was navy blue, its sails an off-white cream, proudly bearing the emblem of the Marines—symbol of peace and order.
The scent of fresh paint lingered on the deck and in the cabins.
Looking at the brand-new warship, Kisame couldn't help but mutter inwardly:
Sengoku… you really pulled out all the stops.
Barring any surprises, This ship was going to be his home from now on.
The vessel slowly set off. No send-off crew, no fanfare—just the first mate barking orders as they pulled out of Crescent Bay, heading straight for the Gates of Justice.
He remembered the first time he saw that colossal, sky-piercing iron gate
He'd been stunned by its sheer size and grandeur.
Now?
He was passing through it as one of its own.
When he'd first arrived in this world, he'd been nothing more than a drifting leaf. A stray.
But somehow, somewhere along the way—he'd found a place to belong.
Even if that place flew under the banner of something as ridiculous as "justice."
What exactly was "justice"?
He didn't know. Probably never would.
All he could do was keep doing what he knew best—live like a decent person, and hit things properly.
And just like that, a Marine flagship slipped through the Gates of Justice.
Ship beneath his feet.
Eyes on the horizon.
Destination: The New World.
His first mission?
Recruit a new Shichibukai.
And the first candidate?
Naturally, Donquixote Doflamingo—the flamboyant moneybags himself.
They were acquainted, after all…
It shouldn't be too hard to talk business.
And if the guy didn't want to play nice?
Well—Kisame's sword Samehada had plenty to say about that.
"Vice Admiral! According to HQ intel,"
"The Donquixote Pirates have already crossed into the New World."
A voice piped up beside him.
It was that white-haired brat he'd dragged out of the elite training camp on a whim.
Since he was still new to this whole Marine thing, Zephyr had insisted Kisame take a few veteran trainees along for the ride.
Kisame, of course, wasn't the rule-following type
The first thing he saw was the white-haired kid crouched in the corner of the training field, smoking.
With those gloomy eyes and that wild, untamed air about him,
Kisame had picked him right then and there.
Thinking back on it now, he remembered the odd look Zephyr had given him at the time— like he'd just stolen his favorite student. A reluctant, almost heartbroken look.
Looking up,
Kisame glanced at the white-haired kid again—Smoker, chomping down on not one, but two cigars.
Kisame couldn't help but worry this kid might just smoke himself to death on the ship.
And seriously, smoking at such a young age—and going this hard?
When he grows up, what's he gonna use? A cannon for a pipe?
The thought passed through his mind in a flash, and he casually nodded in response,
"Of course we're going."
"That's the New World—the pirates' playground!"
"So what?" he added with a shrug.
During his time with Zephyr before setting sail, Kisame had learned quite a bit about the real powerhouses of this world.
Sure, the New World was known as a paradise for pirates, and a nightmare for the Marines.
But that all depended on who was going.
For regular naval grunts, yeah, setting foot in the New World could mean disaster.
But for someone like him? Unless he ran into one of the legendary monsters, it wasn't all that dangerous.
The Marines onboard, however, looked ready to pass out the moment they realized their new commanding officer was dead set on heading to the New World.
Still, beneath all the terror, a flicker of curiosity burned in their hearts.
They were scared, sure, but they were also already imagining the stories they'd tell their grandkids someday— about how they braved the seas of legends.
As Kisame remained unfazed, Lieutenant Smoker turned and went off to find the first mate.
Since the Marines weren't using the underwater route,
they wouldn't be passing through Fish-Man Island on this trip.
Instead, the warship sailed up the Grand Line's waterway, which cut directly across the Red Line.
From the bow, Kisame looked up and spotted a massive, majestic city in the distance.
"That's Mary Geoise, isn't it?"
"Should be... That's what the textbooks say, anyway. I've never been there myself."
Smoker, standing behind him, stared curiously toward the city as well.
Hearing that, Kisame raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the cocky, street-punk-looking lieutenant.
Not only did this guy look like trouble—he didn't even study properly?
Suddenly, Kisame froze.
Not sure if it was just his imagination, but ever since arriving in this world, Kisame found himself constantly judging people by appearances.
A brief thought, gone in a flash.
As for the grand, bustling Holy Land of Mariejois— it held absolutely no appeal to him.
All he knew from the higher-ups in the Navy was that the World Government was headquartered there.
And that it was also home to a certain group of people.
So-called noble bloodline descended from the gods of creation—the Celestial Dragons.
As for those Celestial Dragons,
Kisame didn't know much.
What baffled him was how the World Government could allow a bunch of self-proclaimed "world nobles" to lord over everyone else.
But then again… it had nothing to do with him.
That kind of stuff—was a world far, far above his head.
The warship stopped briefly at a transit port,
where several officers in cloaks, slightly different from standard Navy uniforms, came aboard for the routine inspection.
"You guys are heading to the New World?"
One of the inspecting officers widened his eyes in disbelief when he saw the destination on Kisame's orders.
His look basically screamed:
"Are you insane?"
Kisame couldn't be bothered to respond to that kind of look.
Smoker, on the other hand, shot the man a glare so sharp it looked like he was ready to settle things with his fists right then and there.
Kisame just told him to stop wasting time and get the paperwork done.
The Navy did have an intelligence network within the Grand Line.
But the moment you stepped into the New World, that network became disappointingly patchy.
"Vice Admiral, I've asked around—on Pigeon Island, there's a bar that sells all the latest intel from the New World."
"Pigeon Island?"
"What kind of stupid name is that?!"
Kisame grumbled and cursed, then waved a hand, telling the crew to head straight for this so-called Pigeon Island.
After the transfer point, the warship entered the New World through another waterway.
A soft breeze swept across the deck, stirring gentle ripples across the surface of the sea, spreading in every direction.
Standing aboard the ship,
Kisame gazed out at the distant waters but saw nothing that seemed different.
To him… it all looked like water—just a slightly darker shade, that's all.
The ship moved with the wind, and after sailing for half a day, they finally caught sight of the so-called "Pigeon Island," nestled near the Red Line.
From a distance, the island didn't look very big.
But even from afar, he could see quite a few pirate ships docked along the shore, alongside several passing merchant vessels.
"Aren't pirates supposed to pillage and burn?"
Kisame couldn't help but wonder aloud at the sight of pirate ships peacefully coexisting with trade ships.
"Most merchant vessels that can sail the New World have powerful backers."
Smoker continued explaining, but Kisame tuned out—he already got the gist.
In short, they were connected.
As the warship drew closer to the island, the sounds of lively chatter and bustle carried over from the shore.
They could even see vendors shouting at their stalls along the port.
The island's prosperity was on full display.
However…
"N-NAVY!!!"
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed across the port—no one could tell who had shouted it.
In an instant, the entire place fell dead silent.
Vendors froze, eyes wide with shock.
Pirates, on the other hand, immediately drew the weapons at their waists, readying themselves for battle like a group facing down an invading army.
"…Huh."
Watching the crowd's reaction, Kisame blinked in surprise.
From the way they were acting, He looked more like the invading pirate.
Turning his head slightly, he glanced over at Smoker.
The meaning behind his sharp, shark-like eyes was clear:
"Do these people… have some kind of misunderstanding about the Navy?"
However, even Smoker—who was setting foot in the New World for the first time was just as clueless in the face of this situation.
Like a nervous bride on her wedding day, he was completely out of his depth.
Watching his newly appointed superior, he could only plaster on an awkward expression and pretend not to notice anything.
The warship slowly pulled into the port.
Its imposing form a complete mismatch among the pirate ships waving their skull-marked flags.
Kisame, however, seemed completely unfazed.
Without hesitation, he was the first to leap off the ship.
The wind caught his cape—emblazoned with the word "Justice"—sending it flaring dramatically behind him.
His sharp shark eyes swept coldly over the gathered crowd, as calm and unshaken as still water.
And then a loud, obnoxious voice rang out at exactly the wrong moment.
"You here to arrest me?"
Kisame instinctively turned his head toward the voice.
Not far away stood a hulking blond thug, shirtless with a long scar down his face,
swaggering toward him like he owned the place.
Kisame's response was deadpan:
"And who the hell are you supposed to be?"
(End of Chapter)
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