The afternoon sun bathed the private villa in a warm, golden glow. Located on a secluded grove within the Sabaody Archipelago, the estate was a picture of tranquility. This peace stood in stark contrast to the chaos currently gripping the rest of the world.
Inside the luxurious living room, Kyle lay comfortably on a plush leather sofa. He held a newspaper in his hand, his eyes scanning the bold black ink of the front-page headline. The news was sensational, detailing the "Water 7 Riot" and the shocking report of the "Pirate King's Shipwright Dying During Transport."
According to the article, a massive gang war had erupted in the city of shipwrights, Water 7. The chaos had left the government agents of Cipher Pol 5 severely short-handed. The report claimed that during the transport of the major criminal, Tom, the agents had been negligent. It stated that the prisoner had suffered a sudden illness due to the stress and passed away before reaching the judicial island, Enies Lobby. Consequently, the CP5 chief, Spandam, had been severely reprimanded by his superiors in the World Government for this embarrassing failure.
"Fufufufu... The look on that brat's face must be priceless right now."
A distinctive, arrogant laugh drifted in from the doorway. Donquixote Doflamingo swaggered into the room, his presence filling the space. He casually tossed his signature pink feather coat onto an armchair and grinned.
"Kishishishi! Indeed," a deeper, echoing voice followed. "His so-called 'achievements' turned into a massive blunder. What a pathetic little man."
Gecko Moria followed Doflamingo inside. His towering stature nearly blocked the sunlight streaming through the entrance. The two Warlords of the Sea stood there, looking amused by the government's incompetence.
Kyle lowered the newspaper and looked at the two massive pirates. "Where is he?"
Moria grinned, his sharp teeth glinting. He snapped his long fingers, and the shadow stretching out behind him began to writhe and twist. Suddenly, the darkness spat out a massive, round figure. It was the legendary long-horned Cowfish Fishman, Tom.
The great shipwright stumbled forward, looking completely dazed. Just a moment ago, he had been locked inside a cold iron cage on the sea train, the "Puffing Tom." He had been mentally preparing himself to face his execution with pride. But in the blink of an eye, the rattling of the train tracks had vanished. The scenery had twisted into distorted darkness, and now, he was standing in an impossibly luxurious living room.
Tom shook his head, trying to clear the confusion. He scanned his surroundings vigilantly. His eyes widened when they landed on Doflamingo and Moria. He immediately recognized the two notorious pirates who frequently dominated the newspaper headlines.
"Who are you people? And where is this?" Tom asked, his voice deep and rumbling.
Despite believing he was about to die, the heroic spirit of the sea's greatest shipwright had not diminished. He clenched his fists, ready to fight if necessary.
"Uncle Tom, it has been a long time."
A familiar, yet somewhat strange voice called out from the sofa. Tom froze. He slowly turned his head toward the sound. He saw a young man sitting there with his legs crossed, wearing a lazy, confident smile.
Tom stared at the man's black hair and striking golden eyes. That face triggered a sudden jolt in his memory. The floodgates opened, and images from over twenty years ago rushed through his mind. He remembered the deck of the Oro Jackson. He remembered a young crew member who always seemed to be slacking off behind Gold Roger and Silvers Rayleigh. Yet, that same lazy boy always displayed terrifying strength whenever the crew was in danger.
Decades had passed, and the man's aura had become unfathomable, far more intense than before. However, those golden eyes and that cynical, carefree demeanor were exactly the same as the boy in his memories.
"Ky... Kyle? Is that you, kid?" Tom's voice trembled with uncertainty. He squinted, leaning forward as if trying to see through a ghost.
Kyle laughed, sitting up from the sofa. "Hahaha! It seems you haven't gone senile yet, Uncle Tom." He walked toward the Fishman with a welcoming grin.
"It really is you! You crazy kid!" Tom's face broke into an expression of disbelief and joy. He took a heavy step forward and slapped his large, fan-like hand onto Kyle's shoulder. "How... how are you here? And what was that darkness just now?"
"I asked them to save you," Kyle said, pointing a thumb at Doflamingo and Moria. "It was just a small trick to get you off the train."
Tom looked at the two Warlords, then glanced down at the newspaper on the table. The headline about his "sudden death" made everything click into place. He realized what had happened. He wasn't dead; he had been stolen away right from under the World Government's nose.
"Gahahaha!" Tom threw his head back and burst into hearty laughter. His booming voice reverberated through the entire villa. "Well done! That is absolutely brilliant! It feels so satisfying to make those World Government bastards suffer like that!"
After his laughter subsided, Tom's expression softened, becoming complex. He looked at Kyle with deep gratitude.
"Kyle, thank you," Tom sighed, his shoulders relaxing. "However, was it worth it? Going to such great lengths for an old man like me? You might have exposed yourself to the Government."
"Exposed? No, no, no," Kyle said, waving his finger dismissively. "The whole world thinks you are dead. They will assume your disappearance was just a casualty of the gang war in Water 7. No one will ever connect this to me. As for whether it is worth it..."
Kyle walked over to a polished wooden wine cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of high-quality aged rum and two large glass mugs.
"Back in Water 7, you used to treat me to drinks all the time," Kyle said as he poured the amber liquid. "Now that I am well-off, isn't it normal for me to treat you to some good wine and save your life while I'm at it?"
He handed one of the brimming glasses to the shipwright. Tom took the glass, staring at the swirling liquid. His eyes reddened slightly as the emotions of the reunion hit him.
"Roger..." Tom started, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "When he left... was he doing well?"
"He left with a smile," Kyle replied softly. He clinked his glass against Tom's. "Before he died, he used one sentence to turn the whole world upside down. It was very much his style."
"Yes... that guy. He was always that kind of person," Tom said. He took a massive gulp of the rum. The strong liquor burned down his throat, igniting the nostalgic memories in his heart. "What about the others? What about Rayleigh? And Crocus? Is everyone doing well?"
"Rayleigh is living right here on the Sabaody Archipelago," Kyle answered, taking a drink. "He's working as a coating mechanic and living a comfortable, retired life. Crocus is manning the Twin Capes lighthouse with Laboon. And that guy, Scopper Gaban... tsk. I heard he found a super-large wife in Elbaf. Everyone has found their own way of living."
"That is good... that is truly good," Tom murmured, a heavy weight lifting from his soul.
He looked at Kyle, then shifted his gaze to Doflamingo and Moria, who were listening silently nearby. Tom couldn't help but shake his head in amazement.
"I never thought that the lazy kid who used to follow Roger around would become such a big shot," Tom exclaimed. "To think you have the Seven Warlords of the Sea running errands for you! That is incredible."
"I'm just so-so. Just making a living," Kyle said with a modest shrug.
Doflamingo and Moria's mouths twitched as they listened. This man had taken down a member of the Five Elders and turned the Holy Land, Mary Geoise, upside down. If that was what he called "making a living," then the rest of the world wasn't even alive. Kyle's ability to humble-brag was becoming truly profound.
"Oh, right!" Tom's eyes suddenly lit up with eagerness. "The Oro Jackson! That ship... the ship we built together. What happened to it in the end?"
For a shipwright, their masterpiece is like their child. The Oro Jackson was the only ship to ever sail to the end of the world, and Tom had poured his heart and soul into creating it.
"You want to know?" Kyle smiled mysteriously. "You should go have a drink with Rayleigh later. Let him tell you the story himself. I promise you, the fate of that ship absolutely lives up to its legend."
Kyle decided not to spoil the story. He felt it would be more meaningful for the two old crewmates to discuss the fate of their vessel together. Seeing the mix of regret and relief on Tom's face, Kyle decided to change the subject to the future.
"Uncle Tom, although I saved you, I am not running a charity here," Kyle said. He rubbed his hands together like a greedy merchant, putting on a shrewd smile. "I have a job for you. I would like to ask the world's number one shipwright for a favor."
"Gahahaha!" Tom thumped his broad chest loudly. "As long as there is wine to drink and ships to build, anything is negotiable! What do you need?"
Kyle smiled and gestured for Tom to follow him. He turned and walked toward a hidden door located deep within the villa.
"Come with me," Kyle said. "I guarantee that after you see this, you will completely forget about the Oro Jackson."
Tom didn't understand what could possibly be more interesting than the Pirate King's ship, but his curiosity was piqued. He held his wine glass and followed Kyle.
The hidden door creaked open, revealing a long, winding staircase that led underground. Immediately, a thick, distinct smell wafted up from the darkness—a mixture of heavy oil, rust, and cold metal.
Tom's heart began to beat faster. As a top-tier shipwright, he had an animalistic intuition for this specific scent. It was the smell of engineering, of power, and of potential. He knew instantly that down in those depths, an incredible giant was waiting to be awakened.
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