Davy's Revenge, Shipwright Franky

Above Food City, ten thousand meters in the sky.

The sea of clouds churned like raging waves, while sunlight poured down without obstruction, coating the cloudtops in a dazzling golden edge. A gigantic warship, one hundred meters tall, hovered there, its dragon-headed prow gleaming brilliantly beneath the light.

Yamato sat on the edge of the rail, her fair legs dangling casually over the vast sky as she narrowed her eyes toward Water 7.

The deck behind her was filled with tense activity. Kokoro knelt beside Franky, her wrinkled hands rapidly tending to his wounds.

Franky's eyes were tightly shut, and his face was devoid of color. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still alive.

Near the mast, Tom and Iceburg stood side by side, looking up at the even higher sky. Tom gripped the mast tightly, his thick fingers nearly digging into the wood.

The wrinkles on his face seemed deeper than usual, every crease etched with heavy worry. Iceburg, meanwhile, pressed his lips together, his young face taut with tension.

Their thoughts were interrupted by a sudden blast of sound. It began like distant muffled thunder, then quickly swelled into a piercing shriek that tore through the air.

Everyone instinctively looked up. A tiny black dot appeared on the horizon, rapidly expanding in their vision as rings of white airwaves spread outward around it.

Gravity seemed like a tamed beast, gently supporting the figure as it slowed, hovered, and descended.

The moment Dawn landed on the deck, Yamato had already lunged at him like a phantom. Rather than checking whether her lover was injured like an ordinary woman might have, she grabbed his arms with both hands and raised her face. Her amber eyes burned with a light that mixed pure fighting