Everyone around the square flinched at the thunderous *boom* of Miss Valentine's impact. The stone beneath her feet cracked and caved in, dust shooting into the air in every direction.
Had that attack landed on any normal person, they'd have been crushed without question.
Miss Valentine stood amid the crater, parasol now hanging loosely in her grip, eyes locked onto the four agents who had just barely been pulled away. Her lips curled into a grin. She wasn't done.
She rose lightly into the air once more, parasol spinning as she began to float. "One more drop should do it," she said, tilting her head.
But just as she started to ascend—*snap!*
A hand shot out and gripped her neck from behind with unrelenting force.
"Don't move," a cold voice whispered next to her ear. "Or you'll die."
She froze.
Her eyes darted sideways and saw the face of the one holding her in place—Zino. Calm, expression unreadable, his gaze didn't blink. His fingers were like steel around her throat, not choking, but unmoving, like a lock had clicked into place.
"H-Hey, let me go!" she croaked, writhing lightly. "You can't just—!"
Zino didn't respond. He didn't need to. His grip remained.
"Mr. 5! Help!" Miss Valentine yelled in panic, hoping her partner would act fast.
"Tch," Mr. 5 clicked his tongue in irritation. He pulled out another finger, his hand glowing faintly with internal charge. Once more, a tiny booger rested at his fingertip—deadly and explosive.
He flicked it forward.
"Hana Kyūsōken!"
Zino's eyes didn't even move.
"Zoro."
A single command.
"On it," Zoro replied instantly.
He moved like a phantom.
Zoro dashed forward, blades drawn. The explosive projectile shot toward him—but Zoro was faster.
With a clean slash of his katana, he sliced the bomb mid-air, splitting it in two. The halves veered off-course and—
BOOM! BOOM!
—exploded harmlessly to the sides, sending shockwaves and smoke across the courtyard.
Mr. 5 blinked. "What—"
Too late.
Zoro had already vanished into the smoke.
A sharp *clang* rang out, metal slicing air.
Then silence.
Zoro reappeared on the other side of Mr. 5, sheathing his sword in one fluid motion.
*Click.*
Behind him, Mr. 5's eyes went wide. A red line appeared across his chest. His knees buckled.
He dropped.
Unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Miss Valentine gasped, frozen in disbelief. Her wide eyes locked onto the crumpled figure of Mr. 5 lying unconscious in a heap of dust and rubble.
"N-no way…" she whispered, the strength draining from her voice.
Zino slowly released his grip from her neck, and she collapsed to her knees. Her body trembling as the weight of reality caught up with her.
Zino didn't look back at her. He simply stepped away, calm and collected.
"You picked the wrong targets," he said, voice low and firm.
There was no anger in his tone—just certainty. Finality. The kind that didn't invite argument.
Zoro, already sliding his blades back into their sheath, gave a slow shake of his head. "Tch. That guy talked big for someone who goes down that easy."
He cracked his neck and joined the others without another word, his steps relaxed but alert.
Around them, the wind stirred the dust and debris of the ruined town square. Mr 5 remained unmoving, sprawled out where he fell, while Miss Valentine knelt on her place, her pride in pieces.
Zino scanned the area one last time before turning his attention back to the four captured Baroque agents. The sight of Mr. 5's downfall—one of the organization's higher-ranked enforcers—had clearly shaken them.
Miss Wednesday held her arm, eyes downcast, lips trembling but silent.
Mr. 8 was pale, his elaborate hairstyle now lopsided and soaked with sweat.
Mr. 9 clenched his fists, jaw tight. He refused to meet anyone's eyes.
And Miss Monday, ever the brute force of the group, finally let out a slow breath. Her hardened features softened as she looked from Mr. 5 to Zino. Then, with a small grunt of effort, she lowered herself to one knee.
"We'd have been in serious trouble if you hadn't stepped in…" she said, her voice low but sincere. "Thank you."
Her words hung in the air for a moment.
Mr. 9 stood silent, fists still clenched at his sides, but the tension in his shoulders had bled away. He wasn't ready to admit defeat aloud, but the way he stared at the ground said enough. This fight had gone far beyond what any of them had anticipated.
Miss Wednesday—no, Vivi—remained seated, her hands resting in her lap, trembling slightly. Her eyes hadn't left Zino since the battle ended. There was a storm in her mind—fear, guilt, hesitation—each crashing against the other in rapid succession.
Zino, arms folded, observed her with that unreadable calm of his.
"You're thinking hard about something," he said, voice even, almost casual—but there was weight behind the words.
Vivi blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't expected him to read her so easily.
He continued, gaze sharp. "If you've got something to say, now's the time. I don't like dancing around the truth."
Beside her, Igaram shifted uncomfortably, his curled mustache twitching. He opened his mouth as if to speak—but Vivi gently raised a hand, stopping him.
"No," she said quietly, then stood.
She brushed the dust from her skirt and lifted her chin. Her stance changed—no longer the posture of a clumsy infiltrator or an undercover agent. There was something regal in how she carried herself now. Steady. Poised. Resigned.
"My name…" she began, her voice clear, "…isn't Miss Wednesday."
The square fell into a strange hush. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Zino's crew remained still, silent. No one drew their weapons—but every eye was locked onto her.
She drew a breath, then exhaled slowly. "My real name is Nefertari Vivi. I'm the princess of Alabasta."
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then—
*Clik.*
Sanji's cigarette fell from his lips and hit the ground.
Usopp's jaw practically dislocated.
Even Gin raised an eyebrow.
Zoro didn't say anything, but his gaze narrowed with new interest.
But Zino—Zino didn't so much as blink. His expression remained the same. Neutral. Controlled.
A long silence followed. Vivi braced herself for disbelief, maybe mockery, maybe accusations. But instead…
Zino simply asked, "Why would a princess of a kingdom join a criminal syndicate like Baroque Works?"
There was no accusation in his tone. Just curiosity. Clarity.
Vivi nodded slowly. "To stop it. My country is being torn apart from within. Baroque Works… it's infiltrated deep. Too deep. I had to find proof. I had to get close to whoever's pulling the strings. That's why I joined. That's why I lied."
Her voice cracked slightly, but she kept speaking.
"I didn't expect to meet people like you. I didn't expect to be exposed this way."
She bowed her head, deeply. "I won't ask for forgiveness. Just… understanding."
Another pause.
Zino glanced at his crew. No one spoke. Then his eyes returned to Vivi.
"You're braver than you look," he muttered.
And that alone shifted the air.
She looked up, startled.
But Zino was already turning away, the barest hint of approval in his voice.
"We are done here." Zino said. "This place wasn't friendly to begin with—and now it's just ashes and bad memories. Let's move on."
One by one, the Orca crew gave nods of agreement. Hibari checked their supplies, Gin hoisted his tonfas, Sanji lit a cigarette, and Zoro cracked his neck. They were ready to leave.
But as they began to turn, a voice called out behind them.
"Wait!"
Zino halted and glanced over his shoulder. Mr. 9 was pushing himself up to his feet, wobbling slightly. Miss Monday, bruised but standing firm, nodded at his side. Vivi and Igaram looked on silently.
Zino raised a brow, unimpressed. "What is it now?"
"Are you just… going to leave us like this?" Mr. 9 asked, confused. "Aren't you going to deal with us?"
Zino turned fully, he said, "If I were still a Marine, maybe. You'd all be cuffed and hauled in."
The agents flinched at that.
"But I'm not," he continued. "I'm a pirate now. That means your mess isn't my business anymore." He gave a half-hearted wave of dismissal. "You're free to go."
A beat of silence followed before relief washed over the group. Mr. 8 let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Vivi slumped slightly, tension draining from her shoulders. Miss Monday placed a hand over her chest, nodding quietly in thanks.
But then Zino's voice cut through the relief like a knife.
"That said…"
They all looked back up at him.
"You're not cut out for this."
The words hit harder than any punch. Even Zoro and Sanji gave curious glances as Zino continued.
"You're too soft, too idealistic, too confused to be part of the Baroque Works madness. If you couldn't even deal with a handful of pirates without nearly getting yourselves killed, what are you doing in a world that's drowning in monsters?"
His eyes were sharp, but not cruel.
"Take it from someone who's walked both paths—Marines and Pirates. Neither is forgiving. And your little game of spies and fake names? It's going to get you all killed."
The four agents exchanged looks. No one argued. Not even Mr. 9, who normally had something bold or loud to say. There was only silence now.
"I'm not threatening you," Zino added. "I'm warning you. If you keep following that path… someone worse than me will come next."
He gave them one last glance, then turned.
"Live a normal life. If you can."
With that, he and the crew began walking again.
Miss Valentine who heard their conversation, could not help but call out.
"Hey…what about me?" she asked hesitantly, voice unsteady.
Zino slowed, turning just enough to look at her over his shoulder. "Oh, almost forget about you.
For a moment, he fall into some thought. Then, finally, he spoke. "You're coming with me."
Her jaw dropped. "W-What? No! I'm a Baroque Works agent—I serve Mr. 0! I'm not—!"
"You will join my crew," Zino cut her off, calm but unwavering. His tone wasn't angry. It was resolute—like a man who'd already decided.
Miss Valentine took a step back, shaken. She searched his face for a hint of a joke, but found none. The rest of the Orca crew didn't look surprised. Gin just gave a half-shrug. Zoro glanced away, indifferent.
"I—I didn't sign up for—"
"You lost," Zino said simply. "So, are you coming or not?"
Saying so, Zino started cracking his knuckles, and made a gripping gesture as if gripping someone's neck.
Miss Valentine shivered at that gesture. Reluctant, eyes darting left and right, Miss Valentine eventually fell into step behind the group. Her posture was tense, unsure—but she followed. Whatever her reasons, fear or curiosity, she followed.
Just as they were about to disappear over the hill toward the docks, a voice called out again from behind.
"Wait!"
Zino paused—again. He turned with an almost exhausted patience. "Again? What is it this time?"
It was Vivi.
She had stepped forward from the other agents, eyes wide with urgency. Then, with a sharp breath, she dropped to her knees and bowed deeply, forehead touching the dirt. "Please!" she pleaded. "Help me save my country from Crocodile!"
"Princess!!" Igaram gasped behind her, trying to reach out, but too stunned to move.
The wind blew softly between them as Zino stood still, unreadable. His crew exchanged glances, but none spoke. Vivi's voice cut through the silence again.
"Please… I know I have no right to ask. But I don't have the power to stop him alone. Alabasta is falling apart… I don't know who else I can turn to!"
Zino watched her for a long moment. Not with judgment—but with the calm analysis of someone who'd seen too many wars, too many lies, and far too much desperation.
"You're a princess," he finally said. "What makes you think pirates are the answer?"
Vivi looked up, eyes shining with determination. "Because not all pirates are the same."
A pause.
Then, to her shock—Zino nodded.
"Alright," he said simply.
She blinked. "Y-You'll help?"
"Let's go." Zino said, turning back toward the road. He gestured forward, and the crew resumed walking.
Vivi rose to her feet, stunned for a heartbeat. Then she ran forward, catching up with them. Igaram tried to follow, but she stopped him with a gentle hand.
"I'll come back," she promised.
"With help."