Chapter 46: The Calm Before the Storm

The heavy, pressurized silence inside the metal carriage was a stark contrast to the chaotic, joyful reunion just hours before.

The Glacial-Inferno Sovereign was charging across the ocean at breakneck speed, leaving a trail of flash-frozen waves in its wake as it sprinted toward Water 7.

I sat near the window, a specialized encryption snail resting on the table in front of me.

Alister was making his move.

My nemesis was trying to lock Trafalgar Law away in Impel Down, baiting me into a trap.

I picked up the receiver and dialed a private Galley-La frequency.

“Iceburg,” I said when the line clicked open.

“It’s Victor.

We’ve hit a complication.

I’m going to be slightly delayed in picking up the carrier.”

There was a long, heavy pause on the other end.

When Iceburg finally spoke, his voice was hushed, stripped of its usual professional confidence.

“Costa.

Don’t come back,” Iceburg warned quietly.

“Not yet.”

I frowned, leaning forward.

“What’s wrong?

Is the ship compromised?”

“The ship is fine.

It’s hidden in the secure docks,” Iceburg replied.

“But the city…

something is wrong.

I don’t have proof, and the local Marine garrison hasn’t moved, but the atmosphere here is completely suffocating.

It feels unnatural.

Like the dead calm right before a massive, devastating storm.

The shadows are too quiet.

Don’t sail directly into the outer bays.”

“Understood.

Watch your back, Iceburg,” I said, hanging up.

I immediately dialed another number.

A few rings later, a loud, metallic clanking echoed through the speaker.

“Franky House!

The Super Cutty Flam speaking!”

“Franky, it’s Victor,” I said.

“Iceburg says the city is suffocating.

What’s the situation on the ground?”

Franky’s tone instantly sobered.

“He’s right.

The vibe in the backstreets is totally dead.

We’re being watched.

I can feel it.”

“If a storm is coming, it’s coming for me, and by extension, you,” I told him flatly.

“You need to quietly move your people and Tom’s blueprints somewhere safe right now.”

Franky let out a loud, barking laugh.

“Bro, I’m way ahead of you.

Remember that parcel I asked you to deliver to Granny Kokoro at the Shift Station?”

My eyes widened slightly.

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” Franky grinned through the snail.

“That parcel contained the original blueprints for Pluton.

They haven’t been in Water 7 for weeks.

And as for my men?

I’ve been smuggling the Franky Family out to the nearby islands ever since you left.

Right now, it’s just me and a skeleton crew staying behind to sell the illusion that we’re still operating.”

“Smart,” I praised genuinely.

“But the illusion is over.

I need you to abandon the city and go into hiding immediately.”

“Hold on, I can’t leave yet!” Franky protested.

“I have a super gift prepared for you!”

“I don’t care about the gift right now, Franky.

If you stay, you’re going to get caught in the crossfire of whatever the World Government is planning,” I ordered firmly.

“Hide.

We’ll meet up later, and I’ll take the gift then.”

Franky grumbled something under his breath.

“Fine.

But you better come back for it.

Franky out.”

The line went dead.

I set the receiver down.

My nemesis had captured Law, and now an invisible, suffocating net was tightening around Water 7.

The World Government wasn’t just reacting to me anymore; they were actively hunting me.

If they were using their authority to break the rules, I was going to have to use mine.

I picked up a completely different Den Den Mushi, a heavily armored, military-grade snail I had requested from Koala’s intelligence network weeks ago.

I dialed a direct, classified Marine frequency.

Bacha-cha-cha.

“Whoever this is, you better have a damn good reason for interrupting my vacation!” a booming, ferocious voice roared through the speaker, accompanied by the sound of something heavy smashing into wood.

“Vice Admiral Garp,” I said calmly.

“It’s Victor D.

Costa.”

The smashing sound stopped.

“The Beastmaster?” Garp’s voice dropped an octave, radiating sheer, intimidating power even through the snail.

“How the hell did a bounty hunter get this number?”

“I got it from your cute grandchild,” I replied easily.

“Bwahaha!

Luffy doesn’t even know what a Den Den Mushi is!” Garp laughed.

“I wasn’t talking about Luffy.

I was talking about Ace.”

The laughter stopped abruptly.

“What?”

“I wanted to clear the air before we did business,” I said, leaning back in my seat.

“Portgas D.

Rouge was my aunt from my maternal side.

Which makes Ace my cousin.

I just wanted to properly introduce myself to family.”

There was a five-second silence on the other end of the line.

And then, the snail’s face contorted into a hilariously exaggerated mask of pure, unadulterated shock.

“BWWAAAH?!

YOU’RE ROUGE’S NEPHEW?!

R-ROGER’S IN-LAW?!

WHY DOES MY FAMILY KEEP GROWING WEIRDER?!”

I held the receiver away from my ear as the Hero of the Marines had a loud, comedic meltdown, shouting at his subordinates about his bloodline giving him high blood pressure.

When the screaming finally subsided, Garp let out a heavy sigh.

“Fine.

Fine!

The world is crazy!” Garp grumbled.

“What do you want, Costa?

I’m in the East Blue on vacation!

Well, technically I’m training my other idiot grandson, Luffy.

Hearing about some young punk throwing my cannonballs back at me got me motivated.

I’ve been giving Luffy some extra special training!”

I went completely silent for a moment, mentally mourning for Monkey D.

Luffy.

Whatever “extra special training” Garp was putting him through, it likely violated several human rights treaties.

“I’ll pray for him,” I muttered.

“But I’m calling because another cousin of mine was just arrested in the North Blue.”

“A cousin?” Garp scoffed.

“Let me guess.

A pirate.”

“Trafalgar Law.

Captain of the Heart Pirates,” I confirmed.

“He’s an eleven-million-Berri rookie.

But for some reason, the arresting officer, Commodore Alister D.

Silva, is bypassing standard protocol and transferring him directly to Impel Down.

I want to avoid that.

Since I’m technically just a legally operating bounty hunter and not a criminal, I’d like to make a deal with the Marines.”

Garp barked a harsh laugh.

“Not a criminal?

You leveled an ice continent and stole a Warlord’s gold!

Don’t play cute with me, kid!

What kind of deal could you possibly offer to stop an Impel Down transfer?”

“In exchange for Law’s freedom and his transfer to a standard holding facility, I will hand over two notorious, high-bounty New World pirates,” I proposed.

“And, I will give you actionable, pinpoint intelligence on a legend from your generation who is still active.”

The jovial, boisterous energy completely vanished from the call.

“A legend?” Garp’s voice was suddenly cold, sharp, and incredibly dangerous.

“Why would you make such a lopsided trade?

Two New World captains and top-tier intel for a North Blue rookie?”

“Because he’s family,” I said without missing a beat.

“And I will do absolutely anything to protect my family.”

Garp hummed thoughtfully.

He respected that answer more than he would ever admit.

“Who is the legend, Costa?”

“Shiki the Golden Lion.”

The snail’s eyes widened slightly.

“He’s been hiding in the sky on floating islands,” I explained rapidly, outlining the plot I knew inside and out.

“He’s been using a kidnapped scientist to genetically evolve the local wildlife into highly aggressive, massive bio-weapons.

He plans to drop them all over the East Blue to utterly destroy the weakest sea as revenge against the World Government.”

Garp was dead silent.

The East Blue was his home.

“I’m about eighty percent sure on the timeline,” I added carefully.

“I don’t have live updates on his movements, but that is his plan, and he is preparing to launch it soon.”

“I will verify this intel immediately,” Garp said, his voice deadly serious, devoid of any of his usual humor.

“If you are telling the truth, and Shiki is targeting the East Blue…

I will personally ensure Law’s transfer to Impel Down is halted.

You start preparing those two New World pirates for your end of the bargain.”

“Deal,” I said.

“Don’t cross me, Beastmaster,” Garp warned, before the line clicked dead.

East Blue – Dawn Island

Deep within the dense, humid forests of Mt.

Colubo, the scene was one of absolute, comical devastation.

Monkey D.

Luffy, covered in dirt, sporting several massive, smoking lumps on his head, was lying flat on his back, panting heavily.

Standing over him was his grandfather, Monkey D.

Garp, holding a thick wooden branch completely coated in black Armament Haki.

Garp had been casually using the branch to beat the rubber boy senseless for the entire duration of the phone call.

Garp lowered the snail, his expression hidden beneath the shadow of his dog-hood.

“Grampa…” Luffy wheezed, his eyes swirling.

“Why…

why are you so strong…?”

Garp tossed the haki-coated stick aside.

He looked down at his grandson, the fierce, terrifying aura of the Marine Hero radiating from his broad shoulders.

“Training’s over, Luffy.

I have to cut my vacation short,” Garp said, adjusting his coat.

“You better be a lot stronger the next time I see you, or I’ll throw you in a bottomless ravine!”

“I…

I’m gonna be King of the Pirates…” Luffy mumbled weakly from the dirt.

Garp just laughed, a booming sound that shook the birds from the trees, and turned his back on the boy.

He pulled out a standard Marine snail, dialing his flagship anchored off the coast of Foosha Village.

“This is Vice Admiral Garp.

Change of plans, men,” Garp ordered, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at the sky, searching for floating islands.

“Prepare to sail for Paradise immediately.

We have a Golden Lion to hunt.”

Word Count: 1606

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