Roronoa Zoro, the green-haired swordsman with cropped hair and a single earring in his left ear, had now been bound to the cross in the plaza for nearly a week — without food or water.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of boots — many of them — approaching quickly.

He looked up and saw a group of Marines heading straight for him.

Strangely, the man leading them wasn't the detestable Helmeppo, nor was it Captain Morgan, the one with the axe-arm and metal jaw. Instead, it was a man with a thick beard.

The man halted in front of Zoro. The Marines behind him all saluted respectfully — an act that made Zoro raise a brow in surprise.

Irritated, Zoro asked:

"Now what?"

The bearded man was Lieutenant Commander Ripper. He nodded to two soldiers, who quickly moved to untie Zoro and lower him down. Then, they returned his three swords.

Zoro was surprised, suspicious — but took the swords without complaint.

They were his lifeblood. Especially the Wado Ichimonji, a blade he treasured dearly. Getting them back early was, without question, a good thing.

Ripper gave him a respectful bow and spoke sincerely:

"My apologies, Mr. Zoro. As a bounty hunter, you should've been an ally of the Marine base. Instead, we let you suffer this unjust treatment."

Zoro eyed him up and down, then shrugged and waved it off.

"Forget it. Wasn't your fault — it was that idiot rich boy's doing. And I'm not really a bounty hunter, just sliced up some pirates on the way and cashed them in for travel funds."

Ripper bowed again.

"Regardless, we owe you. Compensation will be arranged. You'll be given a small boat with enough food and water for your journey."

Now Zoro was even more confused.

"What's with this sudden change in attitude?"

Ripper hesitated, then spoke with restraint:

"Truthfully... yesterday we were in a naval battle. Captain Morgan was killed in action. Helmeppo is... grieving. For now, I've taken provisional command of the base."

Only Morgan had died — his corpse, waterlogged and pale, had been recovered.

Most of the other Marines had survived, though many were injured or maimed.

Ripper didn't mention the one-armed pink-haired boy they'd rescued — Koby — who was still unconscious but out of danger. It wasn't relevant to this exchange.

Zoro arched a brow.

So that idiot's dad is dead. No wonder the Marines had no time to mess with me. That explains why they're suddenly letting me go.

Then curiosity lit his eyes.

"Who were you fighting? Some local pirates? Who could've taken down your captain?"

Ripper shook his head.

"We're not certain of the attacker's identity. But someone managed to capture a photo — we've sent it to Marine HQ. A bounty should be issued soon."

"Oh?" Zoro held out his hand. "Let me see the photo."

Ripper wasn't surprised. He retrieved a picture from his pocket and handed it to the swordsman.

Zoro examined it — a blurry silhouette standing at the prow of a ship. But the outline was distinct enough: tentacles and a massive crab claw. Not hard to identify.

He handed the photo back.

"A guy who killed a Marine captain, huh? That bounty's probably going to be pretty high."

Ripper nodded.

"It's a serious offense. Marine HQ will likely issue a hefty reward. Are you... interested?"

Zoro's hand rested on the hilt of his Wado Ichimonji, a small smile forming.

"Something like that. I've got someone I need to find. Can't do that without travel funds."

"Then we'll leave it to you."

"Fine by me. I'll rest up at a local inn. Just send the compensation there."

"Understood. Rest easy, Mr. Zoro."

Zoro waved and strode off confidently, disappearing through the gates of the plaza.

A nearby Marine muttered:

"Lieutenant Commander Ripper… do you really think Mr. Zoro can take down that monster?"

Ripper replied steadily:

"Shouldn't be a problem. Judging by the photo, that enemy is likely a Fish-Man. Captain Morgan boarded that ship alone and was likely overwhelmed. But in the end, they're just flesh and blood. Mr. Zoro knows how to handle scum like that."

None of them had seen how Morgan had actually died. They could only guess based on the massive wound in his abdomen. The real terror in their hearts wasn't the enemy — it was that black ship that had shredded three Navy vessels like paper.

Still, the Marines nodded, placing their hopes in Zoro. They prayed that one day, word would spread through the Navy network:

"The demon has been slain by Roronoa Zoro."

Ripper looked at the sky.

"Come. We need to inform the townspeople... of the captain's unfortunate death."

But none of them felt grief.

In truth, if Shells Town's people learned Morgan had fallen, they'd probably throw a week-long party in celebration.

No one voiced this, of course — not yet.

Just then, they reached the gate of the Marine base and saw Zoro walking back toward them.

"Huh?" Ripper blinked. "Mr. Zoro? Why're you back? Did you forget something?"

Zoro scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Uh… I took a walk around the base and… ended up right back here."

...You what?

The Marines exchanged confused glances.

He'd literally walked out the front gate and somehow ended up back where he started.

Was Roronoa Zoro… a hopeless directional disaster?

Some began to question their earlier faith in him. Maybe he wasn't quite as reliable as they'd hoped.

---

Meanwhile, in Orange Town's Port…

A pirate ship was docked in the harbor — easily identified by its black Jolly Roger with a clown face painted on the skull.

The main cabin looked like a giant circus tent, with red-and-white stripes that made it seem like a joke.

But the locals knew better.

That ridiculous-looking ship belonged to the Buggy Pirates — who had claimed the town as their base.

Anyone foolish enough to approach? Best-case scenario, they'd get beaten. Worst case — throat slit and body tossed into the sea.

Their cruelty was notorious. Many residents had already fled. Now, only a few remained, and the streets were eerily empty.

At that moment, two of Buggy's officers were strutting through the coastal streets.

One, Mohji the Beast Tamer, rode atop a lion the size of a small hill — the ferocious Richie.

Mohji's wild mane matched the lion's, and his muscular build made him look even more imposing.

Beside him trailed Cabaji the Acrobat, the crew's strategist. He wore a checkered scarf, a sword at his waist, and rode a unicycle with eerie balance. Half his face was covered by straight, dark bangs.

Together, they looked like escaped circus performers — fitting for Buggy's aesthetic.

But anyone familiar with them knew the truth: countless had died by their hands.

"Mohji," Cabaji said evenly, pedaling along, "that fire earlier… that was your doing, wasn't it?"

"What if it was?" Mohji raised his bandaged arm. "Stupid mutt bit me just for trying to search the place!"

"It probably thought it was guarding its home. A dog's loyalty, maybe." Cabaji smirked. "Weren't you supposed to be the greatest beast tamer alive? Can't even handle one dog?"

"That was a mad dog!" Mohji roared.

Cabaji shrugged, deciding not to push the subject.

Just then, a figure leapt from an alley and stood in front of them — and the lion.

An older man with glasses, wearing a battered breastplate, holding a spear. His face twisted in fury.

"You bastards… that shop 'ChouChou' tried so hard to protect… you burned it to the ground!"

"I'm the mayor of Orange Town — and I won't forgive you!"

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