Monka's bold tone—"I'm not pretending anymore, time for a showdown"—was brimming with bluster. It exuded a strangely commanding air, a kind of forced aura that didn't match the world of true monsters. Vivi stiffly turned her head. She wanted to see who had said something that ridiculous.
Kill the Golden Lion with an axe? Was there anyone in the pirate world who could claim that so casually? Not even the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, would boast such nonsense if he were resurrected right now.
She turned her head and saw a burly man with a pronounced metal jaw bolted to his lower face, a heavy battle axe affixed to his right arm, and a muscular body brimming with intensity. His sharp, hawk-like eyes were focused directly on her.
From Vivi's angle, the man—Monka—stood rigid and imposing like a spear jammed into the earth. Whether it was his metal prosthetics or that brutal axe-arm, everything about him screamed "iron and blood." He looked more like a relic from the brutal early Marine era than a branch-level officer.
For a moment, Vivi even wondered if the Navy had secretly introduced a rank between Admiral and Fleet Admiral just to accommodate this guy. His demeanor was that over-the-top.
"Do you know who defeated Colonel Smoker?" Vivi asked cautiously.
Monka's voice was deep and gravelly. "All I know is, it was a pirate. And pirates are scum. I hate them more than anything!"
"Colonel! We fought that guy too!"
"Yes, Colonel! Show them the strength of our 153rd Branch!"
"We've got numbers—who needs elites?"
The soldiers of the 153rd Marine Branch rallied behind their self-styled champion. Their morale soared with the fervor of blind loyalty.
Before Vivi could respond, her newly adopted "brothers," Johnny and Yosaku, came sprinting over. They even helped an elderly village granny along with them.
The kind old lady looked around at the navy soldiers with gentle eyes—eyes that could melt stone—and said to them as if speaking to grandchildren.
"Are you discussing how to clean glass? Here's a trick—vinegar and cloth work best…"
Vivi: "…"
The sudden domesticity of the moment must have struck a chord in Johnny and Yosaku's hearts. Maybe it reminded them of their own hometowns. Normally a bit cautious, the two bounty hunters suddenly grew animated, almost like overexcited puppies.
"Big sis! Don't worry, we'll crush any enemy in the East Blue!"
"Yeah, sis! Leave this mission to us. We'll hack that bastard to pieces!"
Vivi quickly held the two down and scanned the surroundings in a panic. What if the Golden Lion heard that kind of trash talk and retaliated? Who would be the first to get vaporized? The old lady with her back hunched like a shrimp? Monka with his 'Admiral-level' posturing? Or the two idiot hotheads trying to LARP as Zoro?
She sighed bitterly. "Smoker, please come back. I can't handle this 'dream team' any longer…"
She could restrain Johnny and Yosaku, but she couldn't hold back the Navy. Originally en route to Loguetown, the 153rd Branch had been reassigned to reinforce sea patrols. Smoker and Tashigi—true HQ elites—had been taken down quickly by the Golden Lion, leaving a bitter taste among the local marines. Their faith lay not in outside reinforcements but in their own colonel: the axe-armed Monka, who they believed to be unshakable.
"Colonel! Fighting with you is still the best!"
"Lead us to victory, sir!"
The defeated branch soldiers were reignited by Monka's bluster. Hearts pounding, they looked ready to charge the heavens.
Vivi watched them, dumbfounded.
These were supposed to be crouching tigers and hidden dragons? More like crouching chickens and squawking ducks.
Branch colonels weren't equals of headquarters colonels. Monka might hold the same title as Smoker, but their true ranks and combat prowess were worlds apart. Smoker, with his Logia-type Moku Moku no Mi and years of Grand Line combat, was on another level. Monka? If he could last twenty rounds against Tashigi—assuming she was going easy—it'd be a miracle.
If she had to rate them like a game? Vivi herself was around level 30. Monka might scrape 20. Johnny and Yosaku? Maybe 10 or 15. But the Golden Lion, even with his legs lost and brain half fried, was still a living legend. He was someone who had fought Whitebeard and Gol D. Roger to a stalemate in the New World. Even in decline, he was level 80—minimum.
This was suicide.
"Oh? Wait… who are you again? Are you from the 153rd Branch?" Tashigi suddenly asked, blinking in confusion.
"I… I'm…" Vivi hesitated. She couldn't give her real name. And using her Baroque Works alias, Miss Wednesday, would make things worse. So she mumbled something fast, garbled, and vaguely foreign-sounding.
Tashigi didn't catch it. Too polite to ask again, she just tilted her head. Then her eyes widened slightly when she spotted the sword on Vivi's hip.
"Is that…? May I take a look?"
Without thinking, Vivi unsheathed it and handed it over.
Tashigi's whole demeanor shifted. The clumsy and flustered woman vanished, replaced by a devoted sword collector. She traced the hamon pattern with her fingers, tapped the blade lightly to test its tone, and nearly gasped.
"This must be one of the Grade 50 skillful swords—the Wazamono. The unique patterning… This has to be Huazhou, right?"
Her face shone with excitement, like a student desperate for the teacher to confirm she was right.
Vivi smiled awkwardly. "Yes. That's Huazhou. Good eye."
Tashigi flushed with pleasure. "Thank you… I just have this little hobby. The Colonel always scolds me for it… Are you a swordswoman too?"
"Ah, kind of… I practiced for a while." Vivi hesitated, then asked suddenly, "Did you really fight him? Did you and Colonel Smoker fight the Golden Lion?"
"Yeah… What about it?" Tashigi's voice trailed off. She didn't want to admit she had gotten taken out in a single clash and couldn't remember most of it.
Vivi felt her soul crack. We were this close to information and you fainted!?
She left for the wrecked merchant ship, dragging Karoo—the duck who was still sipping milk from a bottle—behind her. With one squawk of understanding, Karoo waddled off on a recon mission, Vivi's "entrusted" assistant for five whole seconds.
The duck prowled around the navy vessel like a tiny stealth unit, but returned empty-billed. No intel. Either too much time had passed since the fight, or the real action had taken place far above sea level, in the sky where Shiki preferred to fight.
Vivi clenched her teeth. The more she learned, the less she wanted to stay.