Pirate: Invincible from the Start

Kuta was the pirate with the highest bounty he had ever seen in his life.

When the Marines issued a bounty notice, they faxed it to every branch immediately.

Then they handed it to the World News Organization, whose News Coos carried it alongside the latest news across the world.

That was why Kuta's and Kuina's bounty notices had appeared at Marine branches first.

Everywhere else would receive them a few days later.

In some remote places, it would take even longer.

The Marine on sentry duty had noticed the Freedom as soon as it entered the harbor. But its pirate flag had no skull on it, so he hadn't recognized it right away.

The windmill emblem had merely looked familiar. He'd thought it belonged to a merchant ship he'd seen somewhere before!

So he hadn't given it another thought.

But when Kuta and the others disembarked and he spotted Kuta's distinctive silver hair, he jolted and instantly panicked.

Could I really be this unlucky?

He hurriedly pulled from his coat the wanted notice the base had issued two days earlier. The face printed on it was unmistakably Kuta's.

The sunshine outside was warm, but no amount of warmth could reach the icy pit in his chest.

He looked up again in disbelief and stole a cautious glance at Kuta, then quickly looked away.

He didn't dare look for even another second, afraid Kuta would notice.

It really is him.

He stared at the glaring 7 on the bounty notice and the long string of zeroes behind it.

He felt as though he were standing on ice. A chill shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, making him shudder.

He stood dazed in the lookout post for a moment before turning and running toward the Marine Base.

What the hell did this have to do with low-ranking grunts like them?

A pirate that dangerous was for the higher-ups to handle.

He was going to find someone higher up and let them deal with it.

Granted, he knew no one at the little Marine Base on Prothius Island could stand up to Kuta.

But that was the higher-ups' problem. What did it have to do with a lowly patrolman like him?

Yes! Brilliant plan.

The Clever Old Man

Creeeak!

A piercing squeal rang through the quiet alley.

Kuta and Kuina stood outside the town's only tavern. They gently pushed open its ancient wooden door and walked in.

There wasn't a single customer in the dim tavern. It was quiet.

All they could see was a wisp of smoke rising behind the shadowy bar, with tiny sparks glowing beyond it.

As they drew closer, they found a heavily bearded old man reclining in a chair behind the bar, puffing away on his pipe!

The old man heard the door open but didn't move a muscle.

He had run a tavern on Prothius Island his whole life, but he had already decided to close it after this year.

He was getting old, after all, and his son had no intention of taking it over.

Eyes half-closed, the old man smoked contentedly, like a wealthy landowner reclining on his bed with an opium pipe.

Only when Kuta sat on a tall stool at the bar did the old man crack his eyes open and glance over.

Thump!

Thump, thump!

Thump, thump, thump!

Kuta drummed his fingers rhythmically on the bar.

He lowered his head and looked through the smoke at the old man behind it.

The old man looked like he had stories to tell. He couldn't hide the weight of all the years he'd lived.

"Sir, it's broad daylight and you haven't got a customer. Why not go outside and get some sun? Sit in the dark too long and you'll start growing mold!"

Pipe in his mouth, the old man rose unhurriedly and looked at the two of them through the dappled light coming in from the window.

When he got a good look at Kuta, he froze.

Then, as though he hadn't noticed anything, he blew a smoke ring and said, "I'm about ready for the grave. Sunlight won't make much difference to me. You youngsters, though—you're something else."

"Oh! So you know who we are?"

Kuina caught the implication in his words. Puzzled, she looked at him and asked.

"No."

"You're sure you don't?"

Kuina stared at him. What he had said clearly suggested he knew who they were.

The old man didn't answer her.

First, he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. He took the pipe from his mouth with his left hand and tapped it against the edge of the bar, knocking the ash from

the bowl.

Then he put the pipe back in his mouth, pulled out some tobacco, packed the bowl, and relit it.

Only then did he raise his head and say slowly to Kuina, "Some Marines who came by this morning seemed to be talking about you two."

"Marines?"

"Here. Take a look! They left these behind."

From who knew where, the old man produced two wanted notices and laid them on the bar.

Kuina snatched them up and looked them over.

"Kuta, these are our bounty notices!"

"Oh."

Kuta answered flatly.

He clearly wasn't interested in the notices. The old man in front of him interested him far more.

He stared at the old man and deliberately lowered his voice. "Sir, if you know who we are, aren't you afraid?"

"Know you?"

The old man smoked his pipe, squinting at Kuta in apparent confusion.

"Do I know you?"

Kuta studied him for a moment, then smiled. "Right. You don't know us. How could you?"

What a clever old man.

Clearly, the old man was an expert at playing dumb.

He knew perfectly well who Kuta and Kuina were, but pretended otherwise to avoid trouble.

"Oh, right, sir."

"How much farther is it to Loguetown?"

Kuta looked at the old man as he asked.

Their planned route took them to Loguetown, then through the man-made canal on Reverse Mountain to the Grand Line.

If they hadn't gone to Cocoyasi Village, they would probably have reached the Grand Line already.

"Loguetown?"

"About another day's sail, I'd say."

"One day?"

Excitement lit Kuta's eyes.

So we'll reach the Grand Line soon.

The East Blue had grown a little too dull for them. Nothing there posed a challenge.

Seeing Kuta's expression, the old man asked at his usual leisurely pace,

"So you're headed for the Grand Line?"

"Yeah!"

"It isn't easy to get there."

A trace of old memories passed through the man's eyes.

"Oh... Sounds like you've been to the Grand Line, sir?"

Kuta had known from the start that the old man had a story. And here it was.

Curiosity lit his face, and he quickly asked:

"Could you tell us about your trip to the Grand Line?"

The old man took the pipe from his mouth, shook off the ash, then drew a deep breath and spoke slowly.

"This old man has never made it to the Grand Line!"

"When I was young, I wanted to go. But at Reverse Mountain, we failed to get into the man-made canal. Our ship was wrecked, and everyone else died."

"If I hadn't been lucky enough to be rescued by the man who tended the lighthouse at Reverse Mountain, I wouldn't have made it back either."

The hand holding his pipe trembled as he spoke.

It seemed the memory still frightened him.

"It's that dangerous?"

Surprise flashed across Kuta's face.

"Yes. Very dangerous."

The old man took a puff of his pipe and went on. "Countless ships set out for the Grand Line every year, but only about half actually reach it."

"The currents around Reverse Mountain are too much for an ordinary ship, and the canal entrance is extremely narrow. Without a good navigator, you'll never get in."

"Oh."

Kuta shrugged, suddenly losing interest in the old man's experience.

Now he only wanted to hear about the Grand Line itself.

As for Reverse Mountain...

To them, it would be no different from riding a roller coaster at an amusement park.

Seeing Kuta's indifference to both his story and Reverse Mountain, the old man lost the urge to say more.

For ordinary people, Reverse Mountain was a road to hell.

But to the pirate before him, with seventy million on his head, it might be nothing more than a little waterway!

He picked up two glasses and wiped them down, then poured Kuina some juice and Kuta some wine.

After so many years running a tavern, the old man could tell at a glance who drank alcohol and who didn't.

"Thank you, sir."

Kuina took the juice and thanked him.

She really didn't care much for alcohol.

Kuta, on the other hand, was a different story.