The Pirates

"Never thought someone like me would have another chance to be called into service. I almost forgot I was still an intelligence agent. I've been here for forty years now, haven't I? I settled down, got married, had children. I'm sixty-five this year, and my grandson's already grown up. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life like this."

His voice was ancient, and his tone was full of wistfulness.

"The Government clearly hasn't forgotten you. It just hadn't needed you until now."

The other voice was younger, and sounded quite indifferent. "You have to understand, even a pair of underwear or a sheet of toilet paper can come in handy."

"That's a little harsh, young man. But you're right, too. The Government hasn't forgotten me after all. It finally found me."

The old man's voice carried an unmistakable bitterness. "For the first ten years, every day I wondered when my superiors would need me, when they'd call on me. I'd make a great contribution, join CP0, and reach the pinnacle of my life."

"But as my children slowly grew up, my thinking suddenly changed. I started having nightmares night after night. What if the Government suddenly came looking for me? Could I still give my life for a mission, just like I'd imagined?"

"Eventually, I started hoping the Government would never come looking for me again. Then, in the blink of an eye, decades had passed. I really had grown old."

"Once you've been a member of the Government, don't expect to leave it behind."

The younger voice fell silent for a moment, then spoke.

"That's right. That's Cipher Pol."

The old man chuckled. "But you, young man—you're impressive, coming to the New World on a mission at such a young age."

"Enough small talk."

The younger voice remained calm. "How are the preparations coming along?"

"Mm, take a look. This is the person I chose for you. He's about your build, so disguising yourself as him should be easy."

The old man spoke gently. "He's an orphan, and has a bad reputation on the island, so he doesn't have anyone close to him. The only person who knows him well is me. The chances of you being exposed should be very low."

"Good."

"Young man."

Perhaps it was because he was already so old, but the old man sounded hesitant. "Maybe I'm sticking my nose in where it doesn't belong. Just think of me as an old man whose children aren't around, so I'm a little long-winded. But you have to be careful. From now on, you're a pirate! You're nothing but a pirate!"

"Yeah."

The younger voice answered casually.

The location was the New World, in a corner of the world's most chaotic waters, far from the Navy's control. The small island lay there.

Without a doubt, the New World was the most chaotic sea in the world. Every day, countless pirates, civilians, and Marines met their ends for all kinds of reasons. But this island was one of the exceptions.

That was because a gigantic flagpole stood at the island's harbor, bearing a flag that fluttered in the wind: a skull flag with the imposing bearing of a lion. It was Golden Lion's flag.

Everyone knew that people making a living in the New World could ignore the Navy and the Government, but there were three men they could never afford to disregard.

Golden Lion Shiki, Whitebeard Edward Newgate, and Gol D. Roger.

The Three Great Pirates were so infamous in the New World that people trembled at the mention of them. Even Roger, whose entire force consisted of a single ship, was dangerous enough to destroy a country just because someone insulted one of his companions.

The man represented by the flag flying over this island's harbor was Golden Lion Shiki. Even among the three monsters, he wielded the greatest power and was the most brutal. Every year, countless pirates were sent to the bottom of the sea by him.

The mere presence of this flag was enough to keep all onlookers away. Everyone knew that the lion's territory was not to be touched.

Behind the island's harbor stood a town. At its center was a tavern, where the Pirates passing through often gathered.

The tavern's owner was an old man. They said he had founded it about forty years ago, when he was young and the island was still just a village. It was full of signs of age, and leaks and holes in the roof were commonplace.

The one thing that made it more appealing than the newer, more elegantly decorated taverns was its history. The tavern had been open for forty years, and its decades-old wine was said to fill several cellars. And was there a pirate who didn't love wine?

The tavern was bustling today, too. The white-haired owner leaned behind the counter with a smile, a cigar between his lips. A good business meant a good income, and of course that made him happy.

The laughing Pirates and the local residents got along quite well. The drunken patrons simply dozed with their heads on the tables.

"Creeeak."

The tavern door swung open, and a man walked in. He wore a filthy coat over a yellowed white T-shirt, and work pants. He was barefoot, with a Log Pose on his wrist.

His medium-length hair was a mess, and his stubbled face looked weary, giving him a worn-out air at odds with his youthful appearance. As soon as he entered, he casually tossed a drunk who'd passed out at a table onto the floor, then picked up the half-empty bottle on the table and gulped it down without a care.

"Phew, that woke me up."

The weariness finally vanished. The man dropped into the seat that had belonged to the drunk, leaned back, and called out, "Boss, get me a drink."

"You again, Mario?"

The smiling owner's expression dimmed a little. "You already owe me 135,000 Beli just for drinks. I'm not giving you another one until you pay me back."

"Come on, don't be so heartless, old man."

Mario leaned over the table and grinned. "Didn't you watch me grow up? Doesn't that count for a few drinks?"

"Because of that bond, I've let you run up a hundred thousand Beli in debt, you little punk."

The owner blew a smoke ring and scoffed. "Shouldn't you find a proper job? If nothing else, you could work as a bartender here."

"Exactly, Mario! The boss has been more than generous with you, hasn't he? Don't forget, when you collapsed from hunger in the street last month, the boss looked after you for several days."

Someone who knew the man called Mario spoke up. "Don't push it, kid."

"Shut up, all of you, you idiots."

Mario was exceptionally rude. "I'm a man who's going to set sail and become a pirate sooner or later. Why would I get a job? Don't worry, old man. I'll repay you with the treasure I find someday! Pirates are men of their word."

"A pirate? You?"

The owner shook his head.

"Pffft! A pirate? Hic!"

A drunken man laughed loudly, got up from his seat, and walked over to Mario. He slapped a hand down on the table in front of him. "Kid, you? You?"

"Yeah, what about it, old man?"

Mario was covered in stubble, but looked about seventeen or eighteen—still quite young. "Got a problem?"

"Don't make me laugh!"

The drunk slammed his fist down on the table. The well-used table shattered instantly. "Since when can just anyone become a pirate? A kid like you should go home and suckle at your mother's breast!"

"Hmm?"

Mario raised an eyebrow.

"Haha, there he goes again, the captain's drunk and causing a scene."

"Leave him alone. Anyone who tries to stop him will regret it. Let him make a mess."

Nearby, the men who were sitting with the drunk paid no mind.

"Hey, old man, that table was expensive."

Mario looked at the shattered pieces on the floor. "Can you afford to pay for it?"

"Heh heh heh! Hahahaha! Kid, if you're going to become a pirate, then let me teach you something."

The drunk roared with laughter. "Pirates are a bunch of people who do whatever they want!"

His fist came hurtling toward Mario.