Tap, tap, tap... tap tap tap tap...
Footsteps echoed down the streets of Mock Town. Pirates and underworld thugs alike turned their heads, watching in alarm as a force of over two hundred fully armed pirates assembled, driving civilians and loiterers off the roads.
"This area's off limits!"
"Don't wanna die? Then get lost!"
"Chris Pirates! Clear the street!"
Faced with such an aggressive show of force, even seasoned pirates and gangsters felt a chill. Some caught sight of the skull tattoos marking their arms and immediately backed away on their own.
Even the usual troublemakers, the loudmouths and hotheads, hesitated at the sight of this many cutlass- and gun-wielding pirates. A few fools still tried their luck, thinking themselves tough, but every last one of them was slaughtered where they stood. No survivors. No second chances. Not even dumb luck could save them now.
"Who the hell are these guys? Acting like they own the damn place!" a lanky, reed-thin pirate growled in protest.
"Shhh! Keep your damn voice down unless you've got a death wish!" hissed a grizzled middle-aged pirate, slapping a hand over the younger one's mouth. He glared at him and added in a low voice, "Don't you see the tattoos? That's the Chris Pirates. Their captain's got a three hundred million bounty on his head."
"Th-three hundred million!?" The skinny pirate nearly passed out from shock. He'd never even laid eyes on someone of that level before.
The streets emptied fast. Most people hid inside nearby buildings, peering nervously through windows.
"Gecko Moria!" Aeridar stood laughing in the center of the cobbled street. "What a surprise. I was planning to hunt you down myself, who knew you'd deliver yourself straight to me?"
Around him, Arlan, Oliver, and the others fanned out across the surrounding buildings, guarding against potential ambushes or escapes.
"Kishishishi... Another upstart trying to challenge me," Moria grinned wide, revealing rows of sharp, jagged teeth. "You kids never learn, do you?"
"Don't lump me in with the usual rookie trash," Aeridar replied with a disdainful scoff. "They're not even in the same league."
He'd seen what the new wave of pirates looked like firsthand. Back in Alabasta, one of the most hyped newcomers, Flying Shot Copra, with a 70 million bounty, had been wiped out almost to the last man by the Chris Pirates. Aeridar himself barely had to lift a finger. Copra died cornered by Arlan and the others.
The truth was simple: Aeridar now stood on the same tier as the great pirates. Even the so-called "Supernova" rookies couldn't match him.
"Boss... that guy... he's the one everyone's talking about recently," said Absalom, jaw tight and voice shaking. "They're calling him the strongest rookie out there, Golden Ring Aeridar, with a bounty of 300 million!"
"Oh?" Moria's eyes gleamed with interest. "So you're the one who fought Syrons to a draw... Golden Ring Aeridar!"
"Kishishishi... Perfect. If I get your shadow, I'll be able to create the strongest zombie I've ever made!"
Moria felt like he'd struck gold. With someone of Aeridar's strength, all he needed was the right corpse, and the zombie that resulted could easily surpass even his current creations.
"If you want my shadow... all you have to do is defeat me." Aeridar took two casual steps forward, arms spread. "But if you lose, your head and your title are mine."
"Kishishishi... So that's your game. You want a seat among the Seven Warlords of the Sea."
"What choice do I have? The Shichibukai are at capacity. If I want a spot, I'll just have to bring your head to the World Government and the Navy as my application." Aeridar smiled, a bright, sunny grin that made it seem like beating Moria was nothing but a walk in the park.
"You cocky little bastard!" Moria laughed again, but his expression twisted with menace.
From beneath his feet, his shadow rose up, a deep violet-black creature shaped eerily like Moria himself, but with even more twisted and monstrous features.
"Come on then!" Aeridar beckoned. "Let's see how much of your power you've still got left... after Kaido left you in pieces. Let's see if you're still worthy of the Seven Warlords title."
Inside a house on another street...
The basement door burst open as a pompadour-haired pirate came sprinting in, gasping for breath.
"What is it now?" Owen frowned, brushing his long hair back. "It's not the Navy, is it?"
"No sir, it's worse! It's Gecko Moria, one of the Seven Warlords, he's here!!"
The pirate had dashed across an entire street at full sprint, and now looked like he might pass out from panic.
"What!?" Owen's face went pale. "A Warlord?"
"Yes! And the Chris Pirates have surrounded the area. Practically all their top officers are mobilized. Their captain, Golden Ring Aeridar, is fighting Moria right now!"
Before Owen could even process the shock, that last part made him leap off the couch in alarm.
"Damn it! What's that lunatic trying to do!?"
Owen wasn't some clueless rookie. He knew full well what kind of destructive force a true great pirate represented, one of them could level a city on their own. But two of them clashing?
The entire town could be wiped off the map.
And more than that, any battle involving a Warlord would draw the attention of the World Government and the Navy. He had secrets here that could not be exposed. If they were discovered, he was finished.
"Damn it all," Owen muttered, and then snapped to action. "Get the scientist out of here. I don't care what happens to the rest of you, he must not be caught! And evacuate everyone immediately! Move!"
His final command was a roar.
"Y-yes, Captain! Right away!"
The pompadour pirate stumbled over himself as he scrambled out.
"Damn those two bastards..."
Owen kicked the couch in a rage. The heavy sofa, over two meters long and weighing hundreds of pounds, smashed through a liquor cabinet and slammed into the wall, sending debris and dust cascading. The whole basement shook, and the wall cracked deep from the impact. The couch ended up half-embedded in the stone.
"I'm going. I have to see this for myself."
Scowling, Owen stormed out of the ruined basement without another word.
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