One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ Drawn ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

One Piece, it's characters and settings, belongs to Oda Eiichirou and Shonen Jump, and are being used here without permission. Rated PG-13 for language and violence, nothing more than One Piece usually has. C&C welcomed and greatly appreciated.

 

Notes: I didn't feel like translating the names of Devil Fruits in this story, because the Japanese sounds cooler, and some of them you can't translate into anything sensible anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

Drawn

Chapter 3

 

 

“God, why does this always happen to us?” Nami groaned as she struggled through Oyomi's crowded streets. “We don't do anything wrong, and suddenly everyone's trying to kill us! And it's your fault!”

 

“I'm sorry!” the boy gasped out behind her. He didn't seem to be doing very well with the exercise, especially with the supplies wearing him down. He glanced back and forth wildly as if looking for something. “If only there was….”

 

“What?” Nami glanced back, and made a small sound of surprise to see the marines had all but caught up with them. “Don't you have any ideas?”

 

“If only…” The youth's eye caught on a figure in the crowd, and abruptly he changed course. His goal was the broad-shouldered, green-haired man making his way back to the market—or rather, one of the swords sheathed at his hip. He bit his lip as he charged toward it. They collided head on; the taller man didn't budge, spilling him onto his back with Nami's parcels. But even that brief contact was enough, and the boy sighed with a bit of relief as his power was finally put to use.

 

Zoro didn't suspected anything at first—only that some scrawny kid had slammed into him, and a moment later that Nami was running toward them with a flock of marines behind her. He uttered a curse as he tightened a hand around his sword. “Luffy, be careful,” he warned. “They might have more of that metal.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“Zoro!” Nami sped over to her crewmates, relieved to have found them so quickly. “And Luffy—there's a—”

 

“A marine base, we know,” Zoro interrupted, drawing Wadou. “Go with Usopp and Chopper back to the ship. We'll find Sanji and—”

 

He was cut off by a sudden shriek—a thin, high-pitched and unnatural sound, too shrill to be human but too eerie to be simply the wind. Zoro was alerted to a flash of heat near his hand—his swords—but it faded almost instantly. It was then that he remembered the boy who'd struck him, but he didn't have time to consider it; a hand was pulling Ghost the Third from its sheath at his side. He caught only a glimpse of dark hair and wild eyes before his sword was pulled free, and a blurred figure struck towards the group of marines. It took no more than a few moments of flashing steel, and all nine men that had been following Nami were immobilized.

 

The crowd drew back from the man standing over the officers; as Zoro had briefly noted before he was a tall man with long, unkempt black hair, only crudely tamed by the blood red strip of cloth tied about his crown. He was clad in a gi of green and black with red trim, a little different than the traditional styles dotting the streets due to the addition of a low-hanging scarf about his neck, but still unmistakably native. He held Ghost the Third easily in his right hand, in a way that suggested he was already very familiar with the form and make of the blade.

 

But there was something wrong about him, and it made cold apprehension slither up the back of Zoro's throat. His stance was too straight, his shoulders too stiffly held to be natural, more so than the strict focus of Master Ohtori. More than that the streets suddenly felt cold; everyone nearby must have sensed it as well, as they were gradually edging away from the scene.

 

“Who…is that?” Nami asked breathlessly, huddling with Chopper and Usopp behind their captain. “Where did he come from?”

 

“Who, huh?” a sharp voice split the atmosphere, startling them. The strange man turned, his movements fluid but just as unnatural as his stance. “Where, huh?”

 

His gaze caught Zoro's, and both men straightened imperceptivity. Something clicked then, and the swordsman knew with some bizarre clarity what he was dealing with. “That's…impossible,” he uttered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The man's eyes, dark as they were already, were rimmed in jagged black tattoos like scars, and when they met Zoro's he was filled with the same dull trepidation as when they'd first met.

 

No, that couldn't be the case. “Impossible,” he repeated, drawing Snowrunner as well. A few feet away the new stranger tightened his grip about the stolen Ghost the Third. “Nami,” he said suddenly. “Where's Sanji?”

 

“Further down this street,” she replied, gulping. She, along with everyone else, was watching the spectacle with a strange sense of wonder. “He shouldn't be far behind us, unless that marine woman is tougher than she looks.”

 

“Woman?” Well, that explained a few things. Zoro glanced about; this was a city of fighters, after all, and all along the street he could see men and women readying weapons. A terse murmur had begun to spread along the bystanders but none of them moved to attack. They knew this man, that much was apparent, and they were afraid to provoke him as if he were a wild boar. “Get back to the ship,” Zoro told his crewmates, risking a brief moment to glance at them; Luffy, who had been quiet thus far, was watching the stranger with all the serious attention of a wide-eyed kid, but he didn't appear worried. “Sanji knows the way back. We can't stay here. This—”

 

Zoro's hastily assembled plan proved to be unnecessary; as soon as he'd mentioned the cook's name he caught a glimpse of blond hair and a black suit through the crowd. Sanji was running flat out, the cause of which was swiftly apparent; the city residents were parting easily to make way for his black-clad female pursuer. At least things were more convenient this way, Zoro thought to himself with a smirk.

 

Relieved, Nami forced some of her parcels on Usopp. “Come on—let's get out of here!” She started running the other way, pausing only long enough to snag Luffy's arm. “You, too, Captain!”

 

“But what about—”

 

“Just go!” Zoro called after them. Everything seemed to start moving at once; Usopp and Chopper started quickly after their departing comrades, joined a moment later by the pale kid that had bumped into Zoro earlier. Meanwhile, Sanji was doing his best to escape the marine woman's attacks without having to counter. Zoro was debating on how to deal with the situation when a figure darted past him, and he cursed his simplemindedness; the dark-haired stranger was running after Luffy and the others. Pressed for time and out of options Zoro had no choice but to follow. “Sanji! Get rid of her!” he shouted over his shoulder.

 

“Easy for you to say!” Sanji retorted. But when he glanced back to look for an opening he realized the woman had stopped chasing him. Instead she was crouched beside her injured officers, watching the group with piercing eyes as they fled. The city goers were beginning to crowd around her as well to tend to the wounded.

 

Zoro groaned internally as Sanji finally caught up, and together they gained on the rest of their crew. They hadn't been on the island more than a few hours and already he'd defeated the city's magistrate in a duel, made enemies with Kurakuda—or whoever that was—antagonized an officer, and paid a part in the attack of half a dozen marines. Pretty successful, so far, and even a little familiar.

 

Somewhere ahead of them, Nami was glaring accusingly at the pale boy from earlier, who had started this mess. “Why are you following us?” she demanded, leading the group down the path out of the city. “This is all your fault, you know.”

 

“I still have some of your supplies,” he reminded teasingly. “I think your dresses are in here.” He hefted the packages.

 

“Don't you drop them!”

 

“More importantly, who the hell is this?” Usopp pointed emphatically at the second addition to their escape party. But when the man's dark eyes flashed to him he gulped and ran faster. “A~h, we're being chased by a murdere~r.”

 

The fighter in question curled his lips in a thin, cruel smirk.

 

 

 

Robin wasn't surprised when her new crew came running full speed out of the cherry tree grove, Nami shouting orders to the rest as Zoro and Sanji shoved at each other at the rear. What caused her to pause were the additions to their party; the boy she didn't recognize, but she couldn't help but stand a little taller when the elder man came into view. She had never seen him, but her trained eye took in the colors of his baggy clothes and scarf, the ties crossing his calves and the black tattoos around his eyes. But the explanation her mind provided made no sense to her, so she shook her head slightly and moved to welcome her comrades. “Back so soon?”

 

The crew piled on board, breathing hard and scampering for the rigging. “Pull north!” Nami shouted as she set their supplies off to the side. “We'll circle the island, and—”

 

“I don't think you want to do that,” Robin cut in smoothly, half leaning against the rail.

 

“Huh?”

 

“If we go further north, we'll run right into the marine base.”

 

All eyes turned on her, but Zoro was the first to speak. “Damn woman—you should have told us there—”

 

Sanji was on him before could finish, let alone hear her defense. “Don't you talk to Robin like that!”

 

Nami rolled her eyes as she turned toward the elder woman. “So, what now? If we go south we'll hit Ohtori's harbor, and they're probably still looking for us. We'll have to go back out to sea.”

 

“It may postpone the Logue Pose a little, but our best bet would be to swing wide and go south.”

 

“Alright. Come on, guys! Get to work!”

 

Twenty minutes later Going Merry was out at sea again, at a safe distance so they could curve south past Ohtori City to the southern shore. Meanwhile, everyone's attention had turned inward once more to the pair of strangers in their group. They stood near the door to Nami's study on the lower deck as Luffy's crew circled around them; Robin at one end, followed by Sanji standing between her and Nami protectively, then Zoro with his arms folded, and Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper squatting together like kids.

 

“So,” Zoro said evenly, having adopted an abrupt leadership of the interrogation. “What are you two, exactly?”

 

The younger of the pair bowed deeply. “My name is Bohmer Bravis,” he introduced politely. “And thanks, for letting me escape with you. The marines don't like me very much.”

 

Usopp hummed thoughtfully. “Are you a pirate or something?”

 

“Not exactly.” He smiled shyly. “I…ate a Devil's Fruit: the Bake Bake Fruit.”

 

“Bake Bake?” Nami echoed. She considered a moment, then paled as she took a step behind Sanji. “A ghost fruit?”

 

“Yeah. I'm a Devil Fruit User that calls on ghosts.”

 

Usopp pointed at the tattooed man beside him. “Then that means he's…”

 

The man glanced at him, and Usopp looked ready to faint. “That's right. I'm a ghost.” And he winked.

 

Nami ducked further behind Sanji as Usopp and Luffy let out twin shrieks, diving behind Chopper. Each gripped one of the reindeer's antlers as they peered over his hat. “No ghosts on my ship!” Luffy declared. “Ghosts are creepy!”

 

“That's right, that's right! No ghosts allowed!”

 

Robin, meanwhile, though looking surprised, seemed to have guessed as much. “Those colors you're wearing are from the Jaga Clan, aren't they? They were wiped out over a hundred years ago.”

 

Sanji, who was already blushing at Nami clutching his arm, beamed at her. “Wow, Robin, you really know all that?”

 

“As a historian, it's pretty basic Oyomi history.” She turned toward the ghost, unable to help the genuine interest gleaming in her eyes. “So you're really over a hundred years old?”

 

“Hold on,” Zoro interrupted curtly. The ghost still held his sword, and it was making him wary. Uneasiness had been boiling in his mind ever since the man had appeared, and he was anxious to have that dissolved. “Where did you come from? Who are you, really?”

 

“Don't you know?” He slid forward with a snort, turning Zoro's sword so he could offer it safely back to him. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. Though I'm a little disappointed you don't recognize your partner.”

 

“Partner…?” Zoro took the sword back, but before he could withdraw a cold hand snapped around his wrist. It sent a dull tremor up his arm that he well remembered; it was the same chill he sometimes got from his Ghost the Third during battle, like a thrill of bloodlust. He didn't want to believe it, but there was no denying what he'd suspected all along. “So….” He was released, allowing him to sheathe the blade. He wasn't sure what to think. “It's you.”

 

He smirked. “Formerly known as Black Fanged, Magatou, and more recently,” he bowed grandly, “Ghost the Third.”

 

“Wait wait wait,” Usopp exclaimed incredulously. “Th-That means—”

 

Zoro's eyes thinned. “Yes. The demon possessing my sword.”

 

Luffy frowned slightly and started to get up. “Demon? You just said he was a ghost.”

 

“Oh, he's a ghost all right,” Bravis assured. Luffy ducked back down.

 

Sanji snorted. “Who would have thought our monstrous captain was afraid of ghosts.”

 

“I'm not afraid! I just don't like ghosts on my ship because they're creepy!”

 

“Everyone, calm down,” Robin tried to settle them, taking a step forward. “I'm sure if we all sit down and talk this through it'll make sense.” She looked just as excitable as the rest of them, though, doubtlessly thrilled at the prospect of hearing a personal account of one hundred year old history. “Why don't we go inside and get something to eat. Right, Captain?”

 

Her tactic was just as effective as it was obvious; Luffy gave up his protests in light of a promised meal, and in almost no time the crew and their guests were piled in Nami's study, munching on a hastily prepared lunch of white rice balls and sliced fish. Even Ghost was eating, much to their captain's distress, but he was insistent, having not had a proper meal in decades. That seemed to attract Luffy's sympathy, though he still kept a sharp eye on their visitor as he ate, like a suspicious child with a new toy.

 

Nami was the first to bridge the subject to Bravis's powers, sounding uncharacteristically subdued, but still greatly interested. “So you can bring the dead back to life?” she asked, glancing at Ghost the Third, who flashed her a sly grin. Sanji bristled nearby.

 

“It's not…exactly like that,” Bravis began to explain, pausing for a drink of warm tea. “Sometimes when a person dies their spirit stays around. The Bake Bake Fruit changed my body so that with a drop of my blood, I can give that spirit form. Like Magatou, here.” He patted the man's shoulder. “For twenty-four hours he's got a real body made from my own blood. But there are limitations.”

 

Robin looked completely fascinated, Nami a little uneasy, and Sanji, Usopp, and Chopper wary but also somewhat awed. Luffy was watching the pair with serious scrutiny, but there was no reading his childish face. Zoro himself was still unsure how he should be reacting to all this. He didn't even believe in ghosts or gods, and now he was sharing a meal with one. There were simply things that should have been left well enough alone, especially when it was his sword they were talking about. Though he'd always known it held a curse, seeing the source of that murderous spirit seated so easily beside him was disturbing. A spirit known for having claimed the lives of hundreds….

 

Bravis was speaking again, and Zoro woke himself from his musings to pay attention. “It's not easy finding a spirit that can be called. In order for a spirit to be intact enough to regain a body it has to have attached itself to something in our world. And in order for that to happen, it has to have died with some great connection to our world, and with some object nearby.”

 

“Not like…another person?” Nami asked carefully.

 

Her eyes thinned a little as Bravis shook his head. “Not usually, no. It's because a person's body is always changing; a spirit can't hold onto it well. It takes something more concrete—for some reason metal seems to work especially well.”

 

“Which is why so many swords carry spirits with them,” Ghost added ominously. Zoro didn't like the way the man's sharp eyes slithered over them; they were heavy and bitter. “You can't be more attached to or closer to anything than the sword that kills you.”

 

“Is that…” Chopper gulped. “How you died?”

 

His fingers curled slightly against the table. “You…might say that.”

 

Zoro tilted his chin up, catching something dangerous in the man's tone; Bravis looked a little concerned as well, and he suddenly had the feeling that something was going on. Ghost had supposedly died nearly a century ago, and yet Bravis acted as if they had met some time before now. And those people in town had recognized them both. Whatever it was, it put him on edge. He was grateful when Usopp changed the subject until he realized what he'd asked.

 

“Do Zoro's other swords have spirits in them?”

 

Everyone turned inward, staring at the swordsman with mixed trepidation and curiosity. Zoro's hand went reflexively to the pair at his hip. He'd never considered such a thing before, not believing in this kind of nonsense to begin with, and even in light of recent circumstances he wasn't sure he believed even now. But he couldn't deny the sudden, almost anxious tingle in his fingertips resting against Snowrunner's hilt, as if answering Usopp's question itself.

 

“No,” Zoro said abruptly, his eyes narrowing. “And even if there were, what's the point? They're dead; what good would it do to bring them back for a day?”

 

“But isn't it fascinating?” Robin interjected brightly, the very picture of enthusiasm. “They're famous swords, aren't they? Who knows how long they've been around—what kind of stories they can tell us.”

 

Zoro glared at her. “And what if it's someone I've killed? The last thing we need is a vengeful ghost running around.” Ghost the Third laughed nearby, making him uneasy again.

 

“No more ghosts on my ship,” Luffy grumbled around a mouthful of rice.

 

“It's really no problem,” offered Bravis, ignoring him. “I can cancel my power out if it's someone dangerous. Aren't you curious?”

 

“No. I'm not. I don't give a damn.” Zoro started to climb to his feet. “This is ridiculous, and pointless, and—”

 

Ghost tilted an eye up on at him. “One of them is a girl.”

 

 

 

The marine base headed by Colonel Ginki on Oyomi's northwestern shore was rarely graced by visitors. Despite the forty year naval history on the island they had never been entirely welcomed, and were only tolerated under the most basic of circumstances. All the same Colonel Ginki took his afternoon meal in a guest room on the second floor, dressed not in his marine whites but a simple black yukata, his thinning black hair secured in a samurai's topnotch. He was admittedly an impressive figure, with his broad shoulders and hard-featured face, especially when compared to his guest. The man opposite him was in his mid twenties, his form slender but firmly toned, dressed in a layered gi of rich violet and gold dyes. Despite his attire his face was comparatively plain, with lean features and brown hair and eyes. But his hair was long, reaching far down his back even when bound in a trio of thick ponytails, which were arranged in an upside down triangle against his skull. It gave him something of an unusual appearance, but his face was stern, and he knelt with the stiff posture of a trained prince.

 

“I suppose it's time to get down to business,” Colonel Ginki said thoughtfully as their lunch dishes were cleaned away by his attendants. “Though I wouldn't mind postponing it; it's not often that I can entertain sensible company.”

 

“You flatter me,” Abuka replied; there were no such sentiments present in his tone. “But I would appreciate it if we concluded our business here swiftly—I am expected to return this evening.”

 

Colonel Ginki smirked. “And to think you're the most pleasant visitor I've had in weeks.”

 

“Sir. Please.”

 

“All right,” he relented, signaling to the officer who had stood idly by throughout their visit. The man stepped obediently forward and presented his superior with two pieces of thick paper, which were then passed on to Abuka. “I'm sure you'll recognize the names.”

 

Abuka's lips tipped downward in a thoughtful frown. “Monkey D. Luffy,” he mused aloud. “The Straw Hat Pirate—we've heard rumors.” When his eyes danced down to the offered bounty he straightened; Ginki was somewhat amused to see the blatant surprise in his plain face. “100,000,000? That's preposterous.”

 

“It's difficult to obtain information even with my naval connections,” Colonel Ginki admitted. “But it seems fairly obvious that he had something to do with the incident in Alabasta; that new reward bill was issued just recently.”

 

Still frowning, Abuka turned to the next page, though his surprise was not as great this time. “So, Rolonoah finally makes a name for himself. We expected as much when we first heard of him.” He snorted quietly. “Though I wouldn't have expected so much offered for the killer of Daz Borneth.”

 

“He was a formidable man.”

 

“And a devil's coward.”

 

Colonel Ginki waved the matter aside. “In any case, with a combined bounty of 160 million beri, this pair deserves our attention. Chances are they're traveling together, and on their way to Oyomi. If this Rolonoah really is a swordsman--”

 

“He is,” Abuka interrupted confidently. “Our records are clear. More importantly, only a swordsman could have defeated Daz Borneth. We've already dispatched an investigation into his history, and have traced the Straw Hat Pirates to East Blue. It's only a matter of time before we've identified his school and family line.”

 

Again Colonel Ginki couldn't help but be amused by his company. “There certainly is no arguing your clan's effectiveness.”

 

Abuka's eyes narrowed slightly, recognizing a tone of disdain within the elder's voice. “Our methods are precise, and our influence runs deeper than simple Marine intelligence. It is necessary, for the sake of our records.”

 

“Of course, of course. As always, you're too serious for your own good, Abuka.” Colonel Ginki poured himself a new drink, and offered another to his guest, which was declined. “In any case, we're confident we can deal with these pirates, should they come here. I merely thought you would appreciate being informed.”

 

“I see.” Abuka pushed to his feet. “In that case, there is no reason for me to remain here.”

 

Colonel Ginki chuckled, earning him another cold stare. “All right, go ahead. And thank you, for your indulgence.” He smiled. “I appreciate you keeping me company.”

 

Abuka's frown sharpened; this man kept him further on edge with his careless manner than the calculating glare of his old sword-master. “Of course.” Expecting their conversation to have concluded, he started for the door.

 

“Abuka,” the colonel called after him, and he came to a smooth stop. “How fairs your father?”

 

Abuka's spine straightened, and he felt the muscles along his jaw tighten reflexively. “He is well,” he said evenly.

 

“Give him my regards.”

 

Abuka tilted his chin up. “As you say.”

 

“Father!” A woman's voice echoed down the hall, and Abuka stepped to the side. As anticipated the room's panel slid roughly open, and a tight-lipped Lieutenant Hashiko burst inside. She stopped only long enough to send Abuka a sharp glare before further entering the room to kneel before her father. “Father, news from Ohtori. The Straw Hat Pirates have arrived.” Abuka, who had been on his way out, paused just at the exit. He didn't speak, though his attention was fully on the pair.

 

Colonel Ginki, for his part, appeared calm and unmoved. “Sooner than I expected,” he murmured. “What happened?”

 

“According to what some Kurakuda reported, they were at the Ohtori Dojo. But the ones I encountered were with Bohmer Bravis.”

 

“Bohmer?” At last the subtle humor faded from Ginki's eyes, to Abuka's approval. They both recognized the significance of that claim. “Why?”

 

“I don't know yet.” Hashiko lowered her head slightly, ashamed. “They escaped at the expense of four of our officers. Five more were seriously wounded.”

 

“By the pirates?”

 

“No, by…” She hesitated, her jaw working. “By Magatou.”

 

Abuka felt a tiny chill run up his spine, like an icy finger against the back of his neck. He knew the rumors and stories of Magatou, the Fanged Blade—most from Colonel Ginki, having been too young to remember the incident himself. Most of his peers shunned the tales and the legend behind them; old stories of slaughter and madness. But he took those ancient warnings seriously, and judging from the pale gleam in his eyes Colonel Ginki did as well.

 

“So…Bohmer has gotten his hands on that sword again,” the Colonel said half to himself. “And is cooperating with Straw Hat Luffy? This…” His brow furrowed. “This may become complicated.”

 

Abuka snorted lightly, drawing their attention to him. “And where is your confidence now, Colonel?”

 

Colonel Ginki's eyes sharpened on him. Despite Abuka's efforts to catch him, he easily replied, “You should be more concerned than me. As the Kurakuda heir, it's you he'll be after.”

 

Abuka's shoulders lowered stiffly, though his icy glare remained unfaltering. “I have no fear of ghosts in me, Sir Ginki,” he replied tersely. “Now, if you'll excuse me.” He turned back towards the door. “I trust you'll inform us with new information as it arrives.”

 

“Of course. May you go with honor.” Ginki watched, his expression even, until Abuka had departed. “Hashiko.”

 

“I don't know why you put up with him, Father,” she muttered, glaring after the man spitefully. “He's a snake.”

 

“He is nothing more than the overly proud son of a failing family,” Ginki replied as he sipped his drink. “If he wants to act as if he still has honor while he's here, I don't mind. Besides, the Kurakuda may not be in power now, but they will soon take back Oyomi's sword from Aoyama. He'll then be a prince.”

 

But Hashiko still glowered with disgust. “Even if Kurakuda do come to rule again, they'll still be a clan of cowards; their master hasn't even been seen for months.” She paused. “Why is Abuka even here? If they're taking back Oyomitou, shouldn't he be preparing?”

 

Colonel Ginki betrayed a look of seriousness. “That alone worries me,” he admitted. “The real reason I invited him today was because we received word this morning that Abuka was staying in Ohtori. It is rather unusual for him to be away from his clan if his father intends to reclaim control of the island.”

 

“He is up to something.”

 

“He's merely a tax collector—he may be doing no more than passing messages. Perhaps to Master Ohtori himself.” The Colonel shook his head. “In any case, we have more urgent business at hand. I've recalled your brothers, and they should be here by evening. Then I want you to locate these pirates, and Bohmer. Do whatever you must to apprehend them.”

 

Hashiko nodded obediently. “Yes, Father. We tracked them back to the coast, but they must have gone out to sea. If they try to land again we'll find them.”

 

“Good. But remember that Bohmer is the most important—don't try to fight Magatou.”

 

“I understand.” Hashiko stood and offered her father a formal bow before turning to leave on her task.

 

----

 

Outside, Abuka was making his own way from the marine base. His footsteps were light down the forest path, his mind whirling. There were suddenly even greater matters to accommodate than he'd planned. Rolonoah Zoro, Bohmer Bravis, and the fabled Magatou—one of three great swords said to be possessed by vengeful demons. He would need to be cautious.

 

Abuka sensed the presence perched in the trees above him long before he heard his name spoken. “Abuka.”

 

He slowed to a halt, and glanced up only briefly to take note of the shadowed figure. “You knew I'd be here?”

 

“If Colonel Ginki is suspicious, you gotta be careful.”

 

Abuka frowned at the unnecessary concern. “I always am. But I have news: Bohmer Bravis has returned, with Magatou. They're suspected to be with a band of pirates that just sailed out of Ohtori.”

 

The trees above him echoed back only silence for a long moment. “I'll take care of it.”

 

“Of course you will,” he sneered. “Just make sure you follow through with your end of this, whatever happens.”

 

“Same to you.”

 

And with that the pair separated.