"The prison is here!" Tashigi halted, momentarily uncertain. Vivi, already halfway up the stairs, raised both hands and swiftly slashed down the jailer with twin blades, then charged in with practiced agility.
Vivi paused just outside the corridor, her ears perked, sifting through the chaotic sounds for useful intel.
Tashigi was stuck with Smoker's Seastone cuffs and shackles, helpless against their effects. Vivi, however, walked in holding a key she'd obtained through less conventional means.
The hardness of Seastone rivals the toughest diamonds. Even with "Shigure," her Meito-grade sword, Tashigi's relentless strikes hadn't left a scratch. Fortunately, Vivi had pieced together hints from a nearby whispering Den Den Mushi and wrung the location of the keys out of a low-level jailer in a panic.
Smoker sat shirtless, posture tense. As Vivi unlocked the restraints, he rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms to restore circulation.
During the skirmish aboard the Marine warship, Golden Lion had slashed Smoker repeatedly. His smoke-based Logia powers had been nullified by the pirate's Armament Haki. The fight didn't last ten exchanges. Arrogance, overconfidence, and the lack of advance intel had led Smoker into a trap. He'd ended up carved up and carted off like spoils.
Despite the blood loss, the Marine colonel still exuded quiet intensity. He fixed his gaze on Vivi. "Who are you?"
Though Vivi knew Smoker had her listed in investigative files from Alabasta, she wasn't about to admit it. She defaulted to the same alias she'd used with Tashigi and replied calmly, "I'm Jaina, a traveler passing through Loguetown. I was just planning to take my pet duck to the Baratie for dinner."
Smoker's eyes narrowed. "That accent… you're from the Grand Line. Why are you in the East Blue?"
"What's wrong with visiting the East Blue for dinner? Is there a law against gourmet tourism?" Vivi didn't flinch, meeting his gaze with feigned innocence.
She subtly signaled to Tashigi with a wink. The swordswoman blinked, then caught on.
"Colonel… should we contact Marine HQ for backup?"
Smoker couldn't locate his coat, but calmly pulled a cigar from his pants pocket, lighting it with habitual ease. He exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"Already did that when the situation broke."
Vivi perked up despite herself. "Really? Who's coming? Which admiral?"
Smoker stared at her like she'd grown an extra head. "You think I had time to explain details mid-battle? Just wait."
Despite his clipped tone, his attitude remained fairly civil—for a Marine. Vivi clearly wasn't some random civilian, but he kept it professional.
"What about Morgan and the others? Weren't they with you?" he asked.
Vivi tensed. Earlier, she'd heard movement at the castle's main gate. Now, total silence. That could only mean one thing: the Golden Lion had wiped them out—or hadn't even needed to show up in person.
Just as she debated how to convince Smoker to switch to survival tactics, her senses screamed danger. A glint of steel appeared in the corner of her eye, and the stones and tree roots around her seemed to pulse a warning.
Without hesitation, Vivi dove aside. Smoker's reflexes were even faster. Prioritizing Tashigi, he threw her into the air with one hand, then ducked as a golden slash over ten meters long sliced cleanly through the mist where his body had just been.
"Jihahahaha! So the little Marine got loose?" Golden Lion strolled in slowly, laughter echoing.
His golden mane trailed past his waist, while the top of his head was bald and embedded with a visible quarter-section of a ship's rudder—a grotesque symbol of his survival and madness.
He wore modified samurai attire—an open black feathered haori above orange hakama. His legs ended in twin swords, "Sakura Ten" and "Kikoku," which he used in place of feet. With each step, the blades rang out on the stone floor—clang, clang—like metallic hoofbeats.
"To dodge that, you're no rookie," the Golden Lion muttered. His eyes scanned the room and landed not on Smoker, but on Vivi. The fact that someone else had sensed and evaded his ambush intrigued him.
Vivi felt the heavy weight of his Haki press down on her. The time for playful duck stories was over.
With a dull thud, Golden Lion tossed a battered figure to the ground—Colonel Morgan, barely conscious. The man who once shouted about killing pirates now trembled, eyes wide with primal fear. His muscles twitched involuntarily.
"Jihahahaha! You thought a few weaklings would distract me while you snuck in your elites? You brats in the Navy are getting dumber!"
Vivi was calculating her options—Plan C wasn't ready—when Smoker transformed into smoke and materialized in front of her.
"Civilian, back off! This is between the Navy and pirates." His voice was gruff but resolute. His right arm morphed into smoke, stretched over ten meters, and shot toward the Golden Lion.
"Jihahaha, still don't understand Haki, do you?" Golden Lion scoffed. With his left arm coated in Armament Haki, he casually caught Smoker's misty punch.
Yesterday, Smoker had been caught off guard by the same tactic. This time, he anticipated it.
The smoke punch was a feint. Smoker retracted it midair, twisted his core, and swung around with his real weapon—his right fist—aiming straight at the pirate's jaw.
"White Blow!"
The strike passed through again—no hit. Smoker, unfazed, launched into a Rokushiki technique: "Soru." He stomped rapidly, displacing his body with sudden velocity, appearing in Golden Lion's blind spot. He aimed a crushing kick toward the pirate's neck.
Golden Lion smirked. He didn't activate his Devil Fruit or even bother with more Haki. With calm, composed strength, he crossed his arms, then raised a sword-leg.
"Shiki Ittoryu: Chopper Blade!"
A massive blade of compressed air surged out from his leg at a steep angle. The projectile tore through the ground, aimed not only at Smoker, but at Vivi and Tashigi too.
Tashigi knew she was outmatched and dove clumsily aside. Vivi moved faster, calling out sharply:
"Karu!"
From the shadows, her faithful Super Spot-Billed Duck, Karoo, burst forth, wings flapping with warrior urgency. Vivi mounted swiftly. With practiced coordination, they veered out of the arc of the air slash.
Plan C had begun.