Chapter 81: The Dark King and the Fist!
The wooden door groaned on its aged hinges, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.
As Suzaku stepped across the threshold, the bright, chaotic sunlight of the Sabaody Archipelago was instantly cut off, replaced by a cool, dusty twilight. The crisp ding-a-ling of the wind chime faded, swallowed by the heavy atmosphere of the room.
The interior of the bar was a sanctuary of shadows. Heavy blinds filtered the afternoon sun into thin, hazy beams that illuminated dancing dust motes. The air was thick, carrying a complex, layered scent: the sweetness of cheap rum, the earthy aroma of cured tobacco, and the faint, metallic tang of old polish—or perhaps, old blood that had been scrubbed away years ago.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Behind the mahogany counter, a woman stood. She appeared to be in her thirties, though her eyes held a depth that spoke of decades spent navigating the most dangerous waters in the world. She wore a low-cut spider-patterned shirt, and a cigarette dangled lazily from her lips, the smoke curling around her face like a veil of mystery.
Shakuyaku. The former Empress of the seas, known simply as "Shakky."
She was wiping a glass with a white cloth, her movements rhythmic and hypnotic. Squeak. Squeak.
And in the far corner of the bar, slumped over the counter with an empty bottle, sat an old man.
He wore round glasses, a simple t-shirt, and shorts. His white hair was unkempt, and he radiated the aura of a gambling addict who had lost his last Berry at the park. To the untrained eye, he was a nobody. A relic of a bygone era waiting to fade away.
But to Suzaku's perception, the man was a blinding sun of spiritual energy, barely contained within a human shell.
Silvers Rayleigh. The Dark King. The Right Hand of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.
Suzaku walked in, his boots clicking softly on the wooden floorboards. He didn't rush. He took his time, letting his eyes sweep over the empty tables, the peeling wanted posters of long-dead pirates on the walls, and finally resting on the two legends before him.
A playful, knowing smile touched his lips.
As expected, Suzaku thought, his internal voice echoing with admiration. The peerless Empress who once captivated the hearts of Great Pirates. Time seems to have forgotten her, leaving few traces on her face. And to make a legend like the 'Dark King' willingly live in seclusion here... her charm must be truly formidable.
He spoke no words, but his presence was a statement.
The air in the room shifted.
Rayleigh, who had been half-closing his eyes in a drunken stupor, paused almost imperceptibly. The hand holding his glass stopped mid-air.
Slowly, the old man opened his eyes behind his round glasses.
The cloudiness of alcohol vanished instantly. Deep within those pupils, a heart-stopping sharpness flashed—like a master swordsman drawing a blade an inch from its scabbard to check the reflection.
THOOM.
It wasn't a sound. It was a sensation.
A wave of invisible pressure washed over the room. The air grew heavy, viscous like syrup. It was a test. A silent question asked by a King to an intruder.
Conqueror's Haki.
Shakky didn't even look up from her glass. She merely took a drag of her cigarette, watching through the mirror behind the bar.
Suzaku felt the pressure washing over him. It was heavy, refined, and incredibly potent. It was the will of a man who had conquered the Grand Line.
But Suzaku didn't flinch. He didn't sweat. He didn't even slow his stride.
Instead, he smiled.
Flash.
A crimson spark danced in Suzaku's eyes. He released a fraction of his own aura—sharp, burning, and absolute.
CRACK.
A small, spiderweb fissure appeared in the glass Rayleigh was holding.
The pressure in the room neutralized instantly, like two storms colliding and canceling each other out.
"Oh my," Shakky put down the cleaned glass with a soft clink. She leaned forward on the counter, blowing a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. Her eyes crinkled in a beaming, dangerous smile.
"Isn't this the big shot who has recently risen to fame? The man everyone is whispering about."
She looked him up and down, her gaze dissecting him like a biological specimen.
"'Vermillion Bird' Suzaku. Welcome to my little shop. I didn't expect a monster like you to grace us with your presence so soon. Your bounty hasn't even dried on the paper yet."
She revealed his identity in a single sentence, stripping away any pretense of anonymity.
As Shakky's words fell, the atmosphere in the corner of the bar shifted from testing to alert.
Rayleigh put down his cracked glass. He turned around on his stool, the wood creaking under his weight. He looked at Suzaku calmly, his demeanor changing from a drunkard to a warrior in a split second.
"Since you recognized this old man," Rayleigh said, his voice raspy but carrying the resonance of steel. "Did you come here specifically to find me? Are you here to make a name for yourself by taking the head of a relic? Or perhaps the Marines sent you?"
His hand drifted casually toward his side. He carried no sword, but his arm itself felt like a blade ready to strike.
"No," Suzaku waved his hand casually, dispelling the lingering tension as if he were wafting away smoke.
He walked straight to the bar counter, pulling out a stool two seats away from Rayleigh. He sat down, his posture relaxed, exposing his back to the door—a sign of absolute confidence, or arrogance.
"I was just passing by," Suzaku smiled, leaning his elbow on the polished wood. "I saw an interesting sign—'Rip-Off Bar'—and thought I'd drop in. Proprietress, bring me a good drink. Don't serve me that watered-down fake stuff you give the rookies, alright? I have refined taste."
Shakky raised an eyebrow. She glanced at Rayleigh. Seeing that the vigilance in his eyes had not fully dissipated but softened into curiosity, she chuckled softly.
"The customer is truly sharp," Shakky smiled, turning to the top shelf where the dust-free bottles were kept. "But be warned, boy. All my drinks are genuine good liquor, but the prices here are... astronomical. Can a rookie afford it?"
"It doesn't matter," Rayleigh suddenly spoke up, his voice deep and rumbling. A grin spread across his bearded face, the tension evaporating. "This old man will treat you."
"Hah?" Shakky shot him a helpless, withered look. She tapped her cigarette ash into a tray. "Rayleigh... how much do you owe on your own tab already? You lost all your money at the gambling hall yesterday. And you want to treat a billionaire?"
Rayleigh froze. He scratched his head awkwardly, the imposing aura of the Dark King vanishing instantly, replaced by a goofy, embarrassed uncle.
"Ah... right. I forgot. Hahaha!" He gave a dry, awkward laugh. "Old habits die hard."
Suzaku chuckled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a heavy gold bar—one of the ingots from Enel's ark. He placed it on the counter with a heavy thud.
"This should cover it. For both of us. And keep the bottle coming."
Shakky's eyes lit up. She deftly swiped the gold bar, weighing it in her hand. "Pure gold. From the Sky Island, I presume? Very generous."
She poured two glasses of amber hard liquor. The liquid swirled, rich and aromatic.
Clink.
The two glasses touched, making a crisp sound in the quiet bar.
Rayleigh took a sip, savoring the burn. He re-examined the young man in front of him. The playfulness in his eyes receded, replaced by the wisdom of a man who had seen the end of the world.
"Suzaku," Rayleigh said slowly, swirling the liquid. "The tide of the new era has arrived. I've read the papers. Enies Lobby. The defeat of Akainu. The Giants. You're making waves that are rocking the entire world. It reminds me of the old days."
He turned his stool to face Suzaku fully.
"A young man like you, stirring up such trouble... why exactly did you set sail? Is it for the One Piece? Do you want to be the King? Or do you seek to overthrow the Government?"
The question hung in the air. It was the question every pirate was asked, but coming from Rayleigh, it was a test of character.
"New Era? Great Treasure? One Piece?"
Suzaku picked up his glass. He swirled the amber liquid, watching the light dance in it.
"I have no interest in such boring things," Suzaku said dismissively. "Titles are heavy. Crowns are heavy. And treasures are just metal."
He drained the glass in one gulp. The spicy liquid slid down his throat, igniting a fire in his chest.
"My idea is very simple," Suzaku placed the empty glass down with a click. "I want to live freely. I want to protect the people I care about. I want to see the multiverse. I want to do what I want, when I want, without anyone telling me 'no'."
"Freedom..."
Hearing this word, Rayleigh's eyes became distant and profound. He stared past Suzaku, looking at a ghost from twenty years ago. A man with a straw hat and a mustache who laughed in the face of execution.
"I don't want to conquer anything. I just think the guy with the most freedom in this ocean is the Pirate King."
Rayleigh sighed lightly, a sound filled with nostalgia and melancholy.
"On this great sea," Rayleigh murmured, "the most extravagant thing is freedom. Everyone seeks it, but few find it. The sea is wide, but the cages are many. I have seen too many tragedies of people being crushed to pieces for the sake of that dream."
He looked at Suzaku intensely. "Freedom requires power. Absolute power. Otherwise, it is just a delusion."
"Is that so?"
Suzaku smiled. It wasn't an arrogant smile, but a serene one.
"Then I just need to smash everything that hinders my freedom. If the Government stands in my way, I'll break them. If the Yonko stand in my way, I'll crush them. If the world tries to cage me, I'll shatter the world."
His tone was flat, but it carried an undeniable power that made the air vibrate. It wasn't a wish; it was a statement of fact.
Rayleigh stared at him, stunned by the sheer audacity and simplicity of the statement.
Then, a shocking light erupted from his profound eyes. The old man threw his head back.
"HAHAHAHA!"
Rayleigh laughed, a hearty, unrestrained sound that filled the small bar, shaking the dust from the rafters.
"Well said! Well said, brat! Hahahaha!"
He slammed his hand on the counter.
"As expected of a young monster! You have the boldness of the old days! You remind me of... well, never mind."
He poured Suzaku another drink with his own hand.
"To freedom, then. And to smashing obstacles."
However, just as the atmosphere inside the bar was gradually easing into camaraderie...
[Sabaody Archipelago - Grove 9 (Area 9) - The Civilian Port]
In the distance, the atmosphere at Area 9 underwent a terrifying transformation.
At some unknown point, the port had been completely surrounded. Dozens of massive Marine warships, their steel hulls gleaming under the sun, encircled the grove like a cage of iron. Their dark cannon muzzles were trained on the island, emitting a silent, suffocating aura of death.
On the streets, the previously noisy crowds of tourists and pirates scattered instantly like startled birds. Screams of terror rose one after another, shattering the peace of the archipelago.
"It's the Marines..." The voice of a pirate on the street trembled, carrying a hint of disbelief and despair. "And it's not just a patrol... look at the flags! It's the main force from Marineford!"
On the docks, countless Marine elites poured down the gangplanks like a white tide, securing the area with terrifying efficiency.
But it wasn't the soldiers that froze the blood of every outlaw present. It was the two figures leading them.
One was an old man with broad shoulders, clad in a 'Justice' coat. His white hair was vibrant, his spirit robust, and he radiated a wild, untamed energy that felt like a natural disaster in human form.
Marine Hero, "The Fist" Garp.
The other figure was tall, wearing a yellow and white striped suit. He had a lazy, bored expression, yet no one dared to underestimate him in the slightest. The light reflecting off his sunglasses seemed sharp enough to cut.
He was the Marine's Highest Power, Admiral "Kizaru" Borsalino.
"Ara ara..." Kizaru complained lazily, his voice slurred but carrying across the silent port. "Seriously... to catch one newcomer, Mr. Garp actually had to come out personally? Isn't this overkill?"
He scratched his chin, though there was no hint of contempt in his eyes—only a dangerous, playful glint.
"How terrifying~"
Garp, on the other hand, grinned savagely. He clenched his fist, the knuckles making a crisp CRUNCH sound that echoed like a gunshot.
"Wahahaha!" Garp laughed heartily, his voice booming. "Stop whining! That brat named Ulquiorra actually dared to injure Sakazuki! He put a hole in a Logia!"
Garp cracked his neck, eager for battle.
"This old man wants to see just how strong he is!"
After receiving the urgent news that Ulquiorra, leading the Giant Warrior Pirates, had arrived at the Sabaody Archipelago, the Marine Headquarters had responded with overwhelming force.
The two representative figures of Marine fighting power had simultaneously descended upon Sabaody.
And their target... was aimed directly at Area 9!
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