Miles away, on the turbulent waters of the Grand Line, a vessel of singular, terrifying purpose cut its way from the port of Marineford and turned its prow toward the calmest of the four seas. A warship bearing the colossal, grinning dog figurehead of a living legend was going hunting.
On its main deck, the air itself seemed to vibrate with a spectacle of pure fury.
"THAT... BRAT...!"
Vice-Admiral Garp's roar ripped from his throat, a sound more animal than human. With each word, a barbell laden with weights the size of small cannons was curled with impossible ease, the black iron rising and falling to the deafening punctuation of its return to the rack.
CLANG!
"HOW... DARE... HE!"
CLANG!
With a final, guttural shout, he let the barbell drop. A hush fell over the terrified crew as he switched his grip, planting his feet on a deck that seemed to groan in anticipation. Then, he heaved. Muscles bulged like bedrock beneath his uniform as the entire, ludicrous weight was ripped from the floor in a deadlift that defied all laws of physics. He held it for a single, vibrating beat, his face a mask of incandescent rage, before simply letting go.
GASHAN! KRRR-RUMBLE!
The reinforced deck screamed under the impact, the sound of a meteor strike followed by the tortured groan of stressed metal. The entire warship shuddered and listed violently to one side. Men cried out, scrambling for purchase as the sea itself seemed to tilt, their terror a testament to the man at the center of the chaos.
Minutes later, the ship settled, its crew pale and shaken. Garp now sat perched atop the dog's massive head, cross-legged, the only sound the furious, rhythmic crunching of rice crackers.
Bogard, his ever-present second-in-command, stood a respectful distance away, his expression as impassive as the steel of his blade. He watched his superior officer chew with the ferocity of a starved wolf and understood the situation with perfect, clinical clarity. This wasn't mere anger. This was humiliation. And a humiliated Garp was no longer a Vice-Admiral; he was an unstoppable force of nature, a typhoon given human form.
There would be no rest, no quarter, and no escape. Bogard knew, with the certainty of a man who has witnessed it a dozen times before, that Garp's "Fist of Love" was now an inescapable judgment, and it would find its mark.
__________
From the highest balcony of Marine Headquarters, where the sea breeze snapped sharply at their formal coats, two figures watched the dog-headed warship until it was completely swallowed by the horizon.
Vice-Admiral Tsuru broke the long silence. "I am worried for him, Sengoku," she said, her voice quiet, yet carrying the weight of a hundred campaigns fought at his side.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku did not turn. His gaze remained fixed on the empty stretch of sea, his shoulders burdened by more than just the heavy fabric of his office. He let out a slow sigh, a sound of pure, weary resignation. "Let him go, Tsuru," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "This is a fire he has to put out himself."
He finally turned, the crisp white of his coat a stark contrast to the grim set of his jaw. "Come. The tides of the world will not wait for one man's pride."
The two living legends walked back into the heart of the fortress, leaving the open sky behind them.
And so, the world remained blissfully unaware that the 'Hero of the Marines', its most celebrated champion of justice, had just been unleashed like a rabid dog upon the tranquil shores of the weakest of the four seas.
__________
The humid air, thick enough to drink, clung to Nami's skin like a shroud. It smelled of scorched fish. Her back ached from a day spent hunched over pots and deck brushes. "Dinner's ready," she called out, her voice a flat, dead thing.
It had been a full day since they'd departed Shells Town, a day of suffocating heat and a sea as still and glassy as a tombstone. The ship, deprived of wind, had barely moved. For Nami, it had been a perfect portrait of domestic hell. Zoro, after eating his weight in breakfast, had declared himself on "lookout duty" and become a useless, snoring lump of muscle against the mast. Alvida, a mountain of preening vanity, was physically incapable of contributing; her size made the simple act of washing a plate a logistical impossibility. The entire mess from the previous night's feast had fallen squarely on Nami's shoulders.
She didn't feel like a crewmate. She felt like an indentured servant. And with that thought, the familiar, cold dread of the contract slithered back into her gut. Her desperate, half-formed plan to lead them into Arlong's jaws felt both necessary and utterly, suicidally impossible.
Just as her thoughts spiraled, a voice cut through the quiet. "Food."
Luffy emerged from below deck, his presence instantly sucking the air out of the space. He hadn't been seen since lunch.
"Where have you been all day, Captain?" Alvida purred, her voice an oily attempt to sound essential. "Later," he said, his eyes fixed on the platter of fish.
The four of them sat. The silence was heavy, thick with unspoken tension. The only sound was the methodical scrape of Luffy's fork against his plate as he ate with a quiet, predatory efficiency. It was a terrifyingly domestic scene. The first official meeting of the crew was about to begin, and the agenda appeared to be brand identity and betrayal.
After he had eaten his fill, Luffy leaned back, the wooden chair creaking under his weight. "I've been thinking about a name for us." He surveyed them, his expression as blank as a mask. "I have three options. You will help me pick one."
He let the statement hang in the air, a command disguised as a choice. "Luffy Pirates. Straw Hat Pirates. Or Contract Pirates."
The last option landed like a stone in the pit of Nami's stomach. "Straw Hat Pirates, obviously," Zoro grunted, opening eyes from his post-dinner stupor. "Your other choices are terrible."
Luffy ignored the insult as if it hadn't been spoken. "Then it's decided." He scanned their faces, his voice dropping into a register of absolute, unarguable finality. "From this day forward, we are the Straw Hat Pirates."
He then asked if anyone could draw their Jolly Roger—a skull wearing a straw hat, a sword and gun crossed behind it. All eyes instinctively turned to Nami. "I only draw sea charts," she said, her voice sharp and defensive.
"We'll put that off for now," Luffy said, dismissing it. His tone shifted, becoming colder, more direct. "Let's move to the second item on the agenda. The contract."
Nami's blood ran cold.
"The one you signed is a Subordinate Contract," he began, his voice dangerously soft, almost a whisper. "It has one simple rule: betrayal is punished. If you somehow succeed, the contract itself will kill you." He smiled, a thin, cruel curve of his lips. "But the best part is, it also stops you from betraying. And each time it does, you will be compelled, subconsciously, to reveal why you wanted to. A useful feature."
Zoro let out a low sound of approval. A perfect leash.
Luffy's gaze fell on Nami, pinning her in place. "Why don't you tell us your experience, Nami?" She shuddered, the words caught in her throat. "I... I was..." "Help her out, Alvida."
Alvida sighed, a sound of pure, resentful defeat. "What did you expect?" she snapped, her voice dripping with venom. "You made a captain your underling. Betrayal is the currency of these seas."
Hearing her defiant tone, a spark of panicked courage ignited in Nami.
"Yes! What did you expect?" she shrieked, the words tumbling out, raw and terrified. "You forced me to work all day like a slave! I hate pirates! I hate every single one of you more than anything in this world!"
She was trembling, tears of rage and pure, helpless fear stinging her eyes. "And now... now this thing," she gestured wildly, "this contract... forces me to be loyal to one! Do you have any idea what that feels like?"
The words tumbled out, raw and terrified. Luffy seeing her pitiful display just laughed. "Shihahaha..." It was a cold, dry sound, utterly devoid of humor. "Good. Good."
He let the silence hang for a beat. "Your reasons are not entirely without merit. One wants her power back, the other wants to save her village." A jolt of pure shock went through Nami. He knows.
"If it were for something petty, like money or jealousy," Luffy said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "I would have killed you both myself. The contract demands absolute loyalty and this works both way. If i wanted to I could have forced you to sign a Slave Contract, erase your will entirely." He leaned forward, and for the first time, a flicker of something real—a burning, terrible ambition—flared in his eyes. "But I am going to the top. I will become the King of the Pirates. And for that, I need a crew that grows with me, not a collection of broken puppets."
Luffy's expression hardened again. "But you are not forgiven. There are punishments." He tossed a thick, bound book to Alvida. It landed in her lap with a thud. "You will train this."
Her eyes, fixed on the title—Iron Body—went wide with avarice. "What is it?" "A Marine martial art," Luffy said, a flicker of cold amusement in his eyes. "Or so the fool I took it from believed." He thought of Morgan, a man so desperate to be seen as 'great' you could lead him off a cliff just by telling him there was a monument to his glory at the bottom.
"I am not convinced the book is genuine," he continued, his tone clinical. "Consider your punishment a field test to see if it works. Nami, you will do strength training. You're too weak to be useful as you are."
He looked at Zoro. "The manual requires a partner. You will help her." Zoro's eyes narrowed, a spark of interest in its depths. He picked up the manual and scanned a page. "It says the technique requires systematic, high-impact trauma," he said, a slow, eager grin spreading across his face. "I'm in."
With the sentences passed, Luffy stood up and began gathering the empty dishes with a calm, domestic finality. "Your punishment begins now," he said, not looking at them. "Go."
He turned his back and walked toward the galley, plates stacked neatly in his arms.
"I'll take care of the dishes."
__________
An hour later, the deck was a stage for methodical torture. Nami, tearfully struggling to lift a crate of cannonballs, wanted to collapse. But one fact was now seared into her mind: she could not betray this monster and her life is now in his hand. She could only grit her teeth and push, a single, hopeless thought circling her mind. It's pointless. can i even run away from him. And what would become of my village once arlong knows that i joined other crew. She can only grit her teeth.
Nearby, the main event was underway. The sickening, rhythmic impact of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the night. THWACK! Alvida let out a deep, guttural scream as Zoro's fist slammed into her side. Unlike her, he took her retaliatory blows with nothing more than a sharp grunt, his face a mask of pure, stoic endurance.
Luffy watched them for a moment from the galley doorway, his expression unreadable. The training was clearly effective, even if its source was a fool. He turned, leaving the chorus of screams behind him.
That manual is for normal humans, he thought, feeling the strange, pliable quality of his own skin. It won't work for a body made of rubber. A new resolve settled in his mind. The System gave him a body, a contract, and a mission. But it wouldn't make him strong. He would have to do that himself.
Time to see what this body can really do.
__________
Author here:
Really sorry for the late chapter, it was due to some circumstances. As you know I am away from home.
So, how are you ?
I hope you have enjoyed the story so far ?
If you are consider supporting my journey, it's really hard in starting.