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Arthur, carrying Jessica, flew from the plaza to the harbor in the blink of an eye. He surveyed the ships, chose one that looked seaworthy, tossed the crew overboard, and set sail.
The Marines guarding Jessica arrived at the harbor just as Arthur vanished over the horizon.
Out on the open sea, a small ship, barely forty feet long, sailed swiftly under a clear sky.
At the bow, Jessica, her chef's toque removed, her golden hair cascading around her shoulders, glared at Arthur.
"You villainous pirate! What do you want?" She still couldn't believe it. One minute she was competing in the Chef's Tournament, the next, she was kidnapped and sailing the high seas with a notorious pirate.
She wasn't afraid, Growing up at Marine Headquarters, surrounded by stories of Heroic Marines, had instilled in her a sense of unwavering righteousness.
"I'm building a pirate crew. I need a chef." Arthur steered the ship, keeping them on course, his tone matter-of-fact, as if oblivious to Jessica's murderous glare.
"Don't even dream of it. I'll never join a wicked pirate crew!" Jessica shrieked, throwing her toque at him. "You can kill me! Justice will never yield to evil!"
"Justice? Evil? Hahahahaha!" Arthur burst into laughter, as if she'd told a hilarious joke.
"Your naivete and childishness, You've been brainwashed by the Marines." Arthur shook his head, his gaze fixed on the vast, indifferent ocean. "There is no justice or evil in this world. Those are just words used by the victors. Each side sees the other as evil."
A weak nation, conquered by a stronger one, would see the conquerors as evil. But from the conquerors' perspective—the weak were simply there for the taking.
"Marines represent justice? Pirates are evil? That's all nonsense—subjective opinions. Only a fool can't see that."
Arthur paused. "Of course, you see me as evil. I won't deny that. But from my perspective, I haven't done anything wrong."
"The weak obey the strong. Victory defines justice. It's an eternal truth. So, tell me, where have I erred?"
He turned to Jessica, his tone firm. "What I'm saying might sound twisted to you now, but you'll come around."
Roger, Whitebeard, and the others sailed the seas with their own goals. If the Marines and World Government left them alone, would they retaliate? Unlikely.
A children's rhyme in the New World went, "Whitebeard the pirate, more fearsome than a demon!" Whitebeard, by nature, only cared about his crew, his family. Yet, the World Government saw him as a threat, constantly vilifying him.
Who was right? Who was wrong?
Arthur sought freedom, excitement, a thrilling life at sea. He'd killed those who stood in his way, directly or indirectly. He felt no remorse.
Again—might made right.
Those who preached morality rarely considered the other side's perspective.
Jessica turned away, scoffing. "Evil pirate," she muttered under her breath, her mind racing, plotting her escape. "We'll see how you change my mind." Her convictions wouldn't be easily swayed.
"Now, go make some snacks." Arthur didn't want to argue. It was pointless. He wanted to sample her culinary skills again. He'd only eaten his fill at the festival. He could always use more—especially after tasting those delicious takoyaki.
"The next island is Spring Queen City, the most prosperous city on this route. It's sure to have a Marine base. I'll show you just how 'Evil' those 'righteous' Marines can be."
"Go on, make those snacks. There's plenty of food on board. Looks like it's going to rain…" Arthur waved her away, glancing at the changing sky.
He knew the Grand Line's weather was unpredictable, the New World even more so, but he'd rarely experienced it firsthand. The clear sky was suddenly darkening, the air thick with moisture, on the verge of condensing into rain.
Jessica, still fuming, headed towards the galley. After everything that had happened, she was actually quite hungry.
Arthur smiled. Obedience was a good start. Once it became a habit, she'd be easier to convince.
The bright sun vanished behind dark clouds in seconds. Moisture condensed into droplets. The clouds clashed, friction building, the rumbling growing louder.
"Still no good. Why is breaking the 200M Volt barrier so difficult?" Arthur sighed, letting the rain wash over him.
If he could surpass that limit, he could face Garp head-on, conquer the New World, and reach the pinnacle of Power.
He shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside. It was too early for that. He raised his right arm.
A blinding bolt of Lightning erupted from his palm, piercing the dark sky, tearing a hole in the storm clouds. Sunlight streamed through the gap.
"A casual attack with devastating Power—but still a far cry from Garp's iron fist that shattered the storm clouds."
Garp trained his fists on mountains.
The shockwaves from his punches could easily destroy warships. He had to replace his ship so often that he usually hitched rides with others.
"Breaking the 200M Volt barrier isn't about quantity. My stamina regenerates quickly. I have more than enough Lightning. I can even summon Raigo with my bare hands. It must be a matter of quality." Arthur frowned, sitting down on the deck, lost in thought, searching for a new approach.
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