A giant whirlpool spun on the surface of the sea, swallowing the last remnants of the shattered island. Kyle, Mihawk, and Moriah stood on a large piece of floating wood, bobbing up and down with the waves in a rather ridiculous scene.
Moriah was the first to break the silence. Sweat dripped from his pale chin, but his face was lit with uncontrollable excitement. "Kishishishi… Kyle," he said with a wide grin, his voice filled with anticipation, "how powerful was that move of mine just now? Was it strong enough for you?"
Kyle, who had returned to his usual lazy state, was lying flat on his back, staring blankly at the sky. Hearing the question, he just gave a lazy wave of his hand. "Meh, it was alright."
Moriah's smile instantly froze. He deflated like a punctured balloon, and his massive body seemed to shrink. "Huh? How can that be…?" He hung his head and squatted down, starting to draw circles on the wood with his finger. He muttered to himself, "But that was my strongest move… it even made the whole island disappear…"
Mihawk, standing nearby, glanced at his two ridiculous companions and sighed helplessly. The hand that was still gripping Yoru could feel the faint tremor from their terrifying clash.
Time flew by. Five years passed in the blink of an eye. The sea remained as wild and unpredictable as ever, and the wheel of time continued to turn, stopping for no one. For Kyle and his crew, those five years were a period of immense growth and change.
Moriah's strength had advanced by leaps and bounds, and his mastery over his shadow Devil Fruit had become terrifyingly proficient. Although he rarely left the Sabaody Archipelago, his signature "Kishishishi" laugh had become a nightmare for many brokers in the Underworld.
Mihawk's reputation, meanwhile, had spread to every corner of the world. He now sported his signature short mustache, and his eyes had grown sharper and calmer. His entire presence was like that of a peerless sword resting in its sheath. He often sailed the Grand Line alone on his small, coffin-shaped boat, challenging famous swordsmen from all over to prove his strength. From Vista of the Whitebeard Pirates to nameless masters in the New World, countless warriors had fallen before his Black Blade, Yoru. The throne of the World's Strongest Swordsman was now just one step away, waiting only for an opponent worthy enough to seal his title.
And at the center of it all, Kyle's own power had grown steadily, placing him firmly in the realm of those the world called the Yonko, the Emperors of the Sea. Not that he seemed to care. For five years, he mostly just switched between being lazy on his couch and being lazy on his boat. While his official territory was still just the Sabaody Archipelago, an invisible web of influence had quietly spread across the globe. The merchant guild under his command now had businesses in all Four Blues, dealing in everything from weapons and intelligence to luxury goods, even reaching deep into nations allied with the World Government. Wealth and information flowed in a constant stream to the heart of his operation.
On this particular day, Kyle was lying on a lounge chair on the top floor of his villa, fast asleep with a newspaper covering his face, enjoying the warm afternoon sun. Robin approached silently, carrying a glass of iced black tea. She gently placed several documents on the small table beside him.
"Big Brother Kyle, these are the latest intelligence reports."
"Mmm…" Kyle grunted. He pulled the newspaper off his face and sat up, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He picked up the newspaper on top of the pile. The headline was about the Red Hair Pirates' latest movements.
"Oh? So Shanks managed to get Yasopp to join his crew," Kyle yawned, casually flipping through the pages. "I heard he also picked up a little girl. Uta, was it? Raising her like his own daughter." A faint, nostalgic smile touched his lips as he remembered finding a young Shanks in a treasure chest so many years ago.
He put the newspaper down and picked up the next document. It was a letter from the East Blue, the handwriting on the envelope crooked and childish. Kyle's smile widened as he opened it. The letter was from Ace.
Now ten years old, Ace wrote in a tone full of bragging, telling Kyle all about the "great adventures" he was having with his new best friend, Sabo. They fought wild beasts on Mt. Colubo, searched for "treasure" in the Gray Terminal junkyard, and were diligently saving up their "dream funds." Of course, Ace left out the parts where he and Sabo would come home covered in bruises, only for Rouge to twist both their ears and drag them inside to bandage their wounds.
"Uncle Kyle, Sabo is a really great guy!" the letter read. "But I think he might be… a noble? Oh well, it doesn't matter! We made a promise! We're going to set sail together when we turn seventeen!" At the bottom of the letter, Ace had drawn a smiling sun with two small stick figures holding hands beside it.
Kyle gently touched the paper, a playful look in his eyes. The bond between those three boys was truly something special. He wondered how his own interference might change their futures. The son of the Pirate King aiming to be the King of the Marines; the son of a noble joining the Revolutionary Army; and the son of the Revolutionary leader destined to become the next Pirate King. He chuckled at the thought of such a tangled web of fates.
He carefully put the letter away, his gaze falling on the final intelligence report. It was an encrypted internal document, marked with his organization's black-and-gold dragon emblem. The report was brief, but it reeked of blood.
"…Target: Rob Lucci, age thirteen. Executed a mission in the XX Kingdom. Five hundred kingdom soldiers were taken hostage by pirates. Citing that 'weakness is not justice,' Lucci slaughtered all five hundred soldiers along with the pirate captain, resolving the incident alone. CP internal assessment: Passed."
Kyle's fingertips tapped lightly on the name "Rob Lucci." The lazy smile on his face faded, replaced by a calm, cold expression. "So, the little monster of Cipher Pol is starting to make his move…"
His gaze drifted past the document in his hand, looking out at the distant blue sea, but his thoughts were on the island ten thousand meters below. A few days ago, an urgent report from Fish-Man Island had landed on his desk.
The great adventurer, Fisher Tiger, had returned to Fish-Man Island after years of being missing, his body covered in scars. He had gone straight to the Ryugu Palace to meet with King Neptune. No one knew what they discussed, only that when Tiger emerged, his eyes were burning with a fire for revenge and liberation. He stood in the plaza and declared to all fish-men and merfolk that he would return to the world of humans—to that hell on earth, the Holy Land of Mary Geoise—and free all of the slaves with his own two hands.
This news came just as Queen Otohime was gathering signatures to petition the World Government for relocation. Kyle slowly stood up and walked to the edge of the terrace, the sea breeze blowing through his black hair. A cold smile slowly formed on his lips.
"Robin," he called out softly. His voice was not loud, but it carried clearly to the woman behind him.
"I'm here." Robin put down her teacup and walked to his side.
Kyle didn't turn around. His golden eyes reflected the boundless sea, at the end of which lay the peak of the Red Line. His tone was calm, yet it held a powerful, dangerous energy. The lazy man was gone, replaced by a dark emperor ready to shake the world.
"Send the word out. Tell Mihawk and Moriah to wrap up what they're doing and return immediately. And… get in touch with Doffy. Secretly."
----------------
You can read advanced chapters here: patreon.com/GregariousLion