Chapter 44: Giants and Mud Baths

It took five days of navigating the erratic, unpredictable magnetic currents of the Grand Line to travel from the scorching sands of Alabasta to the humid, prehistoric jungles of Little Garden.

As the Glacial-Inferno Sovereign pulled our metal carriage through the final stretch of ocean, the water beneath us suddenly began to violently churn.

A shadow the size of a mountain rose from the depths.

“Captain!” Brook called out from the roof of the carriage, drawing his cane-sword.

“We have a rather large obstacle!”

I opened the carriage door and stepped out onto the flash-frozen path the Sovereign was creating.

Looming over us, dwarfing our entire caravan, was the Island Eater, a giant goldfish so massive it could swallow a marine battleship whole.

It opened its cavernous mouth, preparing to consume us in a single bite.

I didn’t reach for the Jade Wings.

I didn’t even tap into my kinetic energy.

I took a breath, locked eyes with the colossal beast, and unleashed my Conqueror’s Haki.

A localized, invisible shockwave of pure, dominating willpower erupted from my body.

The sheer pressure of a supreme king’s spirit hit the giant goldfish like a physical blow.

The beast froze.

Its massive, dinner-plate eyes rolled completely back into its skull.

With a pathetic, bubbling groan, the Island Eater went entirely limp, sinking back beneath the waves and leaving our path perfectly clear.

“Well,” Perona muttered from the window, twirling her umbrella.

“That saves us some time.”

We made landfall on Little Garden shortly after.

The air was thick, heavy, and sweltering.

Before we had even fully secured the carriage, Gammamon was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Dinosaur time!” the little Digimon cheered, bolting directly into the dense jungle.

Ten minutes later, the ground began to shake.

From the treeline, a massive, roaring Tyrannosaurus Rex burst into the clearing.

But it wasn’t hunting.

It was actively being wrestled.

Gammamon had latched onto the T-Rex’s snout, laughing happily as he engaged the apex predator in a completely one-sided grappling match.

Robin, Brook, Perona, and I sat on a massive fallen log near the carriage, casually sipping tea that Brook had prepared, watching the little white Digimon attempt to suplex a creature fifty times his size.

The commotion didn’t go unnoticed.

The earth trembled again, this time from massive footsteps.

The island’s legendary residents, the giant captains Dorry and Brogy, emerged from the jungle, their colossal weapons drawn.

They were initially defensive, but when they saw me casually supervising the chaos while sipping tea, they lowered their weapons.

“Gegyagyagyagya!

What a strange crew!” Brogy laughed, his booming voice shaking the trees.

“Gababababa!

The little white one has the spirit of an Elbaf warrior!” Dorry agreed.

I grinned, tossing a massive barrel of high-grade pirate rum from Moria’s hoard up to the giants.

We spent the rest of the day drinking with the legendary captains.

When the central volcano erupted, signaling their daily duel, I sat back and analyzed the sheer, earth-shattering kinetic output of their strikes, admiring the raw Fa-Jin equivalents of the giant race.

We stayed on Little Garden for exactly one day.

By the next morning, Perona completely snapped.

“I am covered in mosquito bites!

My hair is frizzy!

It’s too sweaty!” Perona shrieked, floating upside down and throwing a massive tantrum.

“We are leaving this sweaty rock right now and going to a real resort!”

I laughed, thanking the giants for their hospitality, and ordered the Sovereign back onto the water.

It took four days of smooth sailing to reach Kyuka Island.

The transition from a prehistoric jungle to the Grand Line’s premium holiday resort was exactly what the crew needed.

For the next three days, Perona took absolute command as the self-appointed morale officer.

She dragged the entire crew, including a very confused Brook and Gammamon, into the island’s most expensive luxury spa, footing the bill with Moria’s stolen gold.

It was a period of pure, forced relaxation.

I watched as Perona practically dragged Robin into a premium mud bath, the two women bonding in their own weird, chaotic way.

Brook was promptly kicked out of the hot springs after politely asking the attendants to see their panties, ending up drinking milk at the bar with Gammamon.

I spent the afternoons napping in a shaded cabana on the beach.

I completely dialed down my kinetic generation to zero.

For three entire days, we didn’t fight a single pirate, bounty hunter, or marine.

We were just a family on vacation.

But while we were resting, the gears of the world were turning.

High above the clouds, within the cold, imposing fortress of Marineford, absolute authority was being mobilized.

Commander-in-Chief Kong stood over a massive, illuminated war table alongside Fleet Admiral Sengoku.

Standing off to the side, wearing a sleeping mask on his forehead and casually leaning against the wall, was Admiral Aokiji.

“Spandam’s report from Water 7 is confirmed,” Sengoku stated, his expression grave as he looked at the map.

“Victor D.

Costa commissioned a massive warship from Galley-La.

He is due to return in precisely three and a half weeks.

And he has Nico Robin with him.”

“The Beastmaster’s growth rate is anomalous,” Kong rumbled, his arms crossed over his massive chest.

“He survived Garp.

He dismantled Crocodile.

He crushed Gecko Moria.

He is no longer just a bounty hunter making noise.

He is a localized natural disaster, and now he is harboring the only woman alive who can awaken the Ancient Weapons.”

Aokiji lifted his sleeping mask, his lazy eyes opening.

“A beast that controls kinetic energy and a unicorn that freezes the ocean.

Sounds like a headache.”

“It’s a headache you are going to cure, Kuzan,” Sengoku ordered sharply.

“Costa is too dangerous for a standard Vice Admiral detachment, and his pet can freeze the sea, neutralizing our naval advantage.

Your Hie Hie no Mi is the perfect counter.”

Aokiji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So, we’re bringing the hammer down.”

“We are bringing the executioner’s block,” Sengoku corrected.

He slammed a heavy fist onto the war table, directly over the marker for Water 7.

“I am authorizing a Buster Call-level strike force.

Five veteran Vice Admirals and ten heavy-class warships will quietly blockade the city.”

Sengoku looked directly at Aokiji.

“You will lead them.

Capture Nico Robin alive.

And eliminate Victor D.

Costa.”

“Understood,” Aokiji said quietly.

The trap was officially set.

While my crew laughed in the hot springs of Kyuka Island, an inescapable, overwhelming armada of death was already sailing toward our finish line.

Word Count: 1088

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