Three Days After the Loguetown "Incident" - The Solaris, Amidst the Konomi Islands' Labyrinthine Waterways
The Solaris navigated the narrow channels of the Konomi archipelago with an almost preternatural ease, a feat Nami attributed to the surprisingly detailed, if somewhat unorthodox, charts Alex had "acquired" in Loguetown. Luffy, perched precariously on the sheep figurehead, was engaged in a shouting match with a flock of particularly indignant-looking albatrosses, while Zoro napped soundly against the mast, oblivious. Sanji hummed a tune in the galley, the scent of something delicious warring with the salty air.
Alex stood at the railing, the sea breeze ruffling his hair. In his hand, he held a newly acquired, sleek black Den Den Mushi – a custom model, its shell unadorned but its antenna subtly modified. He pressed a sequence on its dial, then spoke in a low, even tone, "Confirmation code: Griffin's Talon. Execute directive seven. Standard obfuscation protocols. Acknowledge." A series of soft clicks from the Den Den Mushi was his only reply. He then pocketed the device.
Gin approached, emerging from below deck. "The last of the Loguetown 'acquisitions' have been cataloged and secured. The new recruits are… eager. If a little green."
Alex nodded, his gaze fixed on a distant, cloud-shrouded island. "Green can be molded. Eagerness, channeled. They'll have their first 'errand' soon enough. For now, ensure their integration proceeds smoothly. And the secondary 'disbursement'?"
"Transferred as per your coded instructions via the Port Tamarin intermediary," Gin confirmed. "The Polestar 'account' is active and funded."
"Excellent." Alex turned, a faint, unreadable smile playing on his lips. "The tides of commerce are often more predictable than the sea itself, Gin. One just needs to know where to place the nets."
Luffy, having apparently lost his argument with the albatrosses, bounded over. "Alex! Is it time for meat yet? Konomi is famous for its giant sea boar!"
"Patience, Captain," Alex said smoothly. "Business before pleasure. We have a brief stop at a… less populated isle first. Supplies to verify." He glanced at Nami. "Course set for Isla Perdida, if you please. It should be marked on that supplementary chart I gave you."
Nami frowned, unfurling the smaller, hand-drawn map. "Isla Perdida? It's barely a speck. And the currents around it are notoriously treacherous. What kind of supplies are we verifying there, Alex?"
"The valuable kind, Nami-san," Alex replied cryptically. "The kind best handled discreetly."
Meanwhile - Loguetown Marine Garrison
A harried-looking Marine ensign, his uniform slightly askew, practically skidded to a halt before Captain Smoker's imposing figure. Smoker, wreathed in the smoke of his ever-present cigars, was staring out at the bustling port, a deep scowl etched on his face. The Straw Hat Guild's brazen escape, followed by their ten-million Beri bounty collection, still grated.
"C-Captain Smoker, sir!" the ensign stammered, holding out a data slate. "Urgent report from the Financial Crimes Unit! It's… it's about that merchant, Borin. The one who profited heavily after the pirate attack."
Smoker took the slate, his eyes scanning the contents. Embezzlement. Tax evasion. Large sums of money funneled through a dizzying array of shell corporations. Standard white-collar slime. Then, a name jumped out: 'The Polestar Phoenix Trading Co.' And a recently acquired asset: a merchant vessel, 'The Errant Cog.'
"Polestar…" Smoker rumbled. "And this 'Errant Cog'… its last port of call before Polestar?"
"Th-that's the strange part, sir," the ensign said, gulping. "Dockmaster logs are… incomplete. But whispers among the stevedores, unconfirmed, place it meeting an 'unmarked, fast vessel' near the Konomi Islands just before it sailed for Polestar. And the proprietor of 'Polestar Phoenix Trading'… the initial sketch is vague, but there's a certain… flair that seems familiar."
Smoker's grip tightened on the data slate, the metal groaning faintly. Konomi. The same archipelago those Guild rats were rumored to be heading towards. And now this convoluted money trail leading right back to their suspected vicinity. This wasn't just a pirate crew spending their loot. This was planned. Calculated.
He thought of Alex. The calm demeanor, the sharp eyes that seemed to see too much. The way he had orchestrated the capture of those other pirates in Loguetown, almost like a game.
"This 'Guild Master' Alex…" Smoker growled, a dangerous light in his eyes. "He's not just spending his money, he's moving it. Washing it clean. And he thinks he's clever enough to do it right under our noses." He crushed out his cigars. "Tashigi!"
Tashigi appeared almost instantly. "Sir?"
"Get your civilian clothes," Smoker ordered, his voice a low growl. "We're taking a little trip to Konomi. Off the books. I have a feeling our 'heroic' Guild Master is about to make a very public mistake. And I want a front-row seat when his whole charade comes crashing down. This isn't about stolen supplies anymore. This is about a snake coiling in the shadows."
Later that day - Aboard the Solaris, approaching Isla Perdida
The island was a desolate, windswept rock, barely warranting its name. As they anchored in a hidden cove, Alex handed Usopp a small, metallic device. "Place this at the island's highest point. It's a passive scanner. It'll collect atmospheric and energy readings. Retrieve it in twelve hours."
Usopp looked at the device nervously. "Uh, Alex? What exactly are we scanning for on this… pile of nothing?"
"Anomalies, Usopp," Alex said, his gaze sweeping the bleak landscape. "Sometimes, the most interesting things are found where no one bothers to look." He then turned to Gin. "The 'package' for Shells Town. Is it ready?"
Gin nodded, holding up a sealed, waterproof satchel. "Untraceable. Contains reports of 'unusual avian activity' and 'unexplained disappearances of fishing vessels,' attributed to a concerned, anonymous mariner. It will be 'found' by a local Shells Town journalist known for sensationalizing minor events."
Alex permitted himself another fleeting, almost imperceptible smile. The ripples were spreading.
Usopp returned from Isla Perdida looking distinctly unnerved, clutching the metallic scanner Alex had given him. The wind whipped his hair around his face, and he kept glancing back at the desolate rock as if expecting something to leap out.
"Alright, Alex, I put your… your doohickey up there," he stammered, handing the device over. "But I gotta say, that place gives me the creeps. It's too quiet. Like, graveyard quiet. And there were these weird… carvings on some of the rocks. Didn't look like any language I've ever seen. Definitely not something Nami would recognize."
Alex took the scanner, his expression unreadable as he interfaced it with a small, handheld console that emerged from his System. Data scrolled across its ethereal screen. "Carvings, you say? Describe them."
Usopp shuddered. "Twisted. Lots of spirals and sharp angles. And some looked like… like giant insects, maybe? Or birds with too many wings. Gave me the shivers." He rubbed his arms. "I didn't stick around to study them, you know! Just planted the scanner and got out of there!"
Nami, who had been observing from the railing, perked up. "Carvings? Ancient? Could they be valuable?"
"Potentially, Nami-san," Alex said, his eyes still on the console. The scanner had picked up faint, residual energy signatures, highly localized and unlike any natural geological phenomenon his system recognized. "But more likely, they are simply… old." He pocketed the console. "The readings are inconclusive for now. We'll retrieve the main data when we pass this way again." A statement that implied a certainty of return that made Usopp pale further.
Luffy, who had been trying to fish with a bent coat hanger and a piece of dried meat, looked up. "Old stuff? Is it treasure? Can we dig it up?"
"Not this time, Captain," Alex said smoothly. "Some treasures are best left undisturbed until the right moment." He turned to the crew. "We sail for Port Tamarin at dawn. We have a scheduled… pickup."
Zoro, who had finally woken up, stretched lazily. "Another one of your mysterious errands, Alex? As long as there's decent sake in Port Tamarin, I'm not complaining."
Sanji emerged from the galley, wiping his hands on his apron. "Port Tamarin is known for its spicy squid ink pasta. A challenge for any chef, but one I shall gladly meet for the lovely Nami-swan he declared, hearts practically blooming in his eyes.
Alex merely nodded. The "pickup" in Port Tamarin was a carefully arranged exchange – untraceable precious metals, bartered by a Guild shell company for "rare alchemical reagents" (in reality, specific, inert chemical precursors his system needed for future projects). It was another small, seemingly innocuous thread in the vast web he was weaving.
Two Days Later - Port Tamarin, East Blue. A bustling, chaotic trading hub.
The Solaris was docked amidst a throng of merchant vessels, fishing boats, and a few shabbier-looking pirate ships. The air was thick with the cries of vendors, the smell of exotic spices, and the underlying tang of fish and brine.
While Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper (if he were present, otherwise just Luffy and Usopp) were causing a minor ruckus at a food stall, and Zoro had predictably gotten lost within five minutes of stepping ashore (Nami was fuming, trying to track him down), Alex and Gin met with a nondescript contact in the shadowed corner of a noisy tavern. The man was nervous, his eyes darting around.
"The consignment is secure?" Alex asked, his voice a low murmur that barely carried over the tavern's din.
The man nodded jerkily, sliding a heavy, locked case across the sticky table. "As agreed. Purest grade. The 'reagents' are in the usual drop point at the old lighthouse."
"Excellent. Your discretion is appreciated, and will be… remembered," Alex said, a subtle emphasis on the last word. He placed a small, heavy pouch of Beri on the table. The man snatched it and scurried away.
Gin picked up the case. "Another piece in place. The network expands."
"Slowly, Gin. Surely," Alex corrected. "Visibility is a weakness. For now, we operate in the echoes, the spaces between." He took a sip of the cheap grog he'd ordered, his expression unreadable. His system was already cataloging the tavern's patrons, running facial recognition, noting potential informants or threats. Every interaction, every location, was a data point.
Meanwhile, a few streets away - Port Tamarin's Shadier District.
Smoker, dressed in a worn fisherman's tunic and a floppy hat that did little to disguise his fierce scowl, observed the tavern from across a narrow, refuse-strewn alley. Tashigi, in equally unassuming local attire, stood beside him, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scanned the crowds.
"He's in there," Tashigi whispered, pointing subtly. "The one they call 'Alex.' Just met with a known smuggler, Jorgun. Jorgun deals in high-value, untraceable goods – often stolen artifacts or restricted materials."
Smoker grunted, a plume of smoke escaping his lips despite his attempt at a disguise (he'd reluctantly left his cigars behind, but the ingrained habit was hard to break, so he chewed on a piece of dried seaweed instead). "So, our 'Guild Master' isn't just washing money through shell companies. He's dealing directly with the underworld. Moving physical assets."
They had followed the convoluted financial trail of 'Polestar Phoenix Trading' to Konomi, finding nothing but dead ends and meticulously erased tracks. But the dockmaster chatter Alex had planted about 'The Errant Cog' meeting an 'unmarked, fast vessel' near Konomi had been enough. Smoker had pressured local informants, and a nervous whisper had led them to Port Tamarin, a known hub for discreet transactions, just in time to see Alex's meeting.
"This isn't just about the Loguetown bounty anymore, Tashigi," Smoker said, his voice a low growl. "This Alex is building something. An organization. He's acquiring resources, forging connections. This Guild… it's not just a name. It's a network."
Tashigi nodded. "The way he operates… it's meticulous. Almost… professional. Not like any pirate I've encountered."
"He's a different breed," Smoker agreed. "More like a damn spymaster than a pirate captain. But every snake leaves a trail, no matter how faint. We just need to keep following it." He watched Alex and Gin emerge from the tavern, Alex's face impassive. "Let's see where his 'errands' take him next."
Back aboard the Solaris, later that evening.
The locked case from Jorgun sat on Alex's chart table. Inside, nestled in velvet, were several ingots of a dull, greyish metal. Not gold, not silver. Something… denser. His system identified it as a rare metallic element with unusual energy conductive properties. Perfect for his more advanced technological projects.
Gin entered. "The Shells Town journalist, 'Scoop' McMurphy, has published his article. 'Terror from the Skies! Are Giant Insects Stealing Our Ships?' Complete with a blurry, 'enhanced' photo of what looks suspiciously like a very large seagull and an 'artist's impression' of the 'acidic scorch marks.'"
Alex allowed a brief smirk. "Sensationalism has its uses. It creates noise, distracts from the truth, and occasionally, it makes people look in directions they otherwise wouldn't. Any official response from Shells Town authorities or local Marines?"
"Dismissed as drunken fantasy and journalistic embellishment, as expected," Gin reported. "However, the article has been picked up by a few minor regional news aggregators. The 'buzzing hornets' and 'giant bird shadow' are becoming a minor local legend."
"Good. Let the legend grow," Alex said. "A story, once planted, can take on a life of its own." He looked out at the dark sea. "Our next destination is the Organ Islands. There's a particular… atmospheric phenomenon there my system flagged as anomalous. It warrants a closer look." And coincidentally, it was in the general direction Smoker would likely assume a crew trying to lay low after suspicious dealings in Port Tamarin might head.