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The First Son of the Sea took an uncomfortable seat next to the very marines and pirates his sworn brother once fought until his last breath. It wasn’t a place he wanted to be, a sentiment shared with the other warlords present, but it was an order from the World Government. Orders from the Marines could be ignored, and often were, but the government dogs had to follow their master’s orders or be cut loose. And Jinbe could not afford losing his title.
The largest man present, a ghoul by the name of Gecko Moriah growled, “Are we going to get this meeting underway or not!? Call it my pirate instincts, but sitting here amongst you navy men doesn’t calm my nerves.”
Jinbe felt the flicker of a flame and looked a few seats to his right at the Desert King lighting his cigar, “Hearing your chatter isn’t going to make this go by any quicker. So shut up and quit complaining.”
Moriah slammed his fist, “And just who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Crocodile!?”
Jinbe observed the faces of the Marines present; all of them Vice-Admirals and some were veterans of an older age, but many couldn’t hide the fear on their faces. He knew no marine could put a stop to this argument.
“I asked you a question, now you answer me, Crocodile!” Moriah demanded.
The second largest man present sat beside the ghoul, resting his Bible on the table, and said, “Starting a fight here won’t do you any good.”
“Hmph,” Jinbe looked to his immediate right, at the beautiful woman adorned in scorn, “The first intelligent words I’ve heard today. If you won’t stay silent, I will quiet you forever.”
A flamboyant man dressed in pink who chose to take a seat on the table itself laughed, “I’d like to see that Love-Love Fruit in action, Hancock. Why don’t you turn our fearsome friend into a statue?”
Moriah was seething, but he forced a smile, “Don’t flatter yourself. You might be a pretty face, but I prefer my darlings with rotting flesh.”
A wine glass was placed on the table, “Your vulgarity ruined my appetite,” the world’s greatest swordsman, Dracule Mihawk complained.
Crocodile groaned and puffed his cigar, “You there. Where’s the admiral?”
Doflamingo took notice of Vice-Admiral Tsuru’s address and watched her, “Be patient. Sengoku has more to worry about than the time of pirates.”
Jinbe crossed his arms and sighed, “I wouldn’t be so lackadaisical with these pirates. Your leaders sought us out and formed a treaty with us because of our strength,” he stood from the table and looked ahead at the doors adorned with the World Government’s symbol, “You gathered us for a reason, I suggest your superiors make haste.”
Jinbe walked away from the table, passing by the vicious pirates and stalwart marines and stood in front of the window furthest from the others. His words made an impression, and he overheard no grumbling. But he allowed himself no relaxation, as he stared out at the Domain of the Gods.
A marine stood by his side and gazed out at the city, “Several years ago, your brother set fire to that city.”
Jinbe glanced aside at the veteran from Roger’s era, Vice-Admiral Momonga, “If you hold that against me, I suggest taking it up with my leash-holders.”
Momonga shook his head, “I did not mean anything by the sort. But, it was here where Fisher Tiger’s legacy began. And if what I hear is true, it led you back here.”
Jinbe shut his eyes, “Yes. If Brother Tiger was still with us, I’m certain he’d bring up the irony as you would,” he opened them to glare at the countless mansions surrounding the gargantuan castle he stood in. The branding on his chest ached upon thinking of the Celestial Dragons dwelling below him, and he turned away.
The doors opened, drawing the attention of the pirates and marines present. A small goat followed an imposing figure adorned with medals and an overflowing coat; Fleet Admiral Sengoku the Budha.
“Forgive me for the delay, but there was an urgent matter requiring my attention,” though it was an apology, Jinbe could detect no remorse in his voice, “Thank you for waiting, scum of the sea.”
As Jinbe approached his seat, Crocodile’s golden hook banged on the table, “We’ve been waiting long enough, Admiral. Let’s cut to the chase and tell us why we’re here.”
The Budha took his seat at the same time as the First son of the Sea, “Very well. There is a certain pirate that is making a name for himself on the Grand Line. I believe some of you have heard of him.”
Doflamingo giggled, “You’re talking about the Fire Fist, ain’t ya?! Heheheheh, that boy’s a monster!”
“Kishishishishi! I’ve added several burning corpses to my Zombie Army thanks to that brat!” Moriah bragged.
Sengoku nodded, “Portgas D Ace recently defeated the former Warlord of the Sea Hanafuda at Sabaody. This rookie has taken everything we’ve thrown at him and left us with nothing but char.”
Doflamingo snorted, “The King of the Lizards? Guess he didn’t live up to his own namesake.”
Crocodile took an interest and raised his eyebrow, “The rookie took him down? Where is he now?”
Sengoku allowed one of his subordinates to answer, and it fell to Vice-Admiral Stainless, “A fleet led by Admiral Akainu is in pursuit of Hanafuda, with intent of delivering him to Impel Down.”
Jinbe only met Hanafuda once, and it was when he passed through Fishman Island in pursuit of a pirate. The Warlord made a stir with his presence, but he passed through as soon as he left, and Jinbe had no opportunity to speak with him.
“After his dismissal, he was replaced by the Tyrant, Bartholomew Kuma,” Stainless gestured to the imposing figure seated in an uncharacteristic calm manner.
“Hold on. This fella sitting here? He’s THAT Tyrant? You let this monster become one of the Warlords!? Do you know how nuts he is!?” Moriah panicked.
Mihawk perked up, “If he can force a fellow Warlord to squirm in his boots, then I do believe the Tyrant’s seat is well deserved.”
Before Moriah could bark an insult, Sengoku silenced the arguing, “Hanafuda is irrelevant. Forget about him. Fire Fist Ace is currently the problem.”
Hancock tapped her fingers on the table, “Does the government expect the Seven Warlords to team up to defeat a single pirate. What a joke.”
Crocodile blew a cloud of smoke, “I concur. It’s a waste of our time to go hunting for one brat.”
“It would make us look weak if a single pirate forced us all to act,” Mihawk said.
Sengoku nodded his head, “The World Government is not asking you to hunt him down as a group. You were gathered here due to the unprecedented feat this pirate has accomplished. Fire Fist Ace’s defeat is a top priority, and among you who will face him, you will be rewarded for his defeat. Fail, and you will be expelled from the Warlords.”
Many of the Warlords weren’t intimidated by a Marine’s threats. They were powerful pirates in their own right, and even an admiral’s might gave them little pause. But the notion of losing their privilege forced a reaction from those hardened pirates. Jinbe felt his own heart skip a beat and wondered if the others shared the same feeling. Save for Doflamingo and Mihawk, they each tensed up at that threat.
“How does the government wish us to respond to the Fire Fist?” Hancock asked.
“None of you are given specific orders, as far as I know. I was only told to inform you all of the threat this pirate hold,” Sengoku explained.
The imposing Kuma spoke up for the first time since admonishing his ghoulish teammate, “Where are the Fire Fist and the Spade Pirates at this time?”
Momonga answered, “After leaving Sabaody, he descended Fishman Island and entered the New World. No word has come on where he’s landed.”
Moriah sighed, “The New World? Bah, I can’t follow him there with my ship. I’ll pass.”
Hancock’s interest vanished, “I’m not interested in the New World.”
Crocodile put out his cigar, “I have my own problems to worry about. The Fire Fist can count himself lucky.”
Doflamingo ruffled the Fire Fist’s bounty and laughed, “So, this rookie’s in the New World? Doesn’t look like the kinda guy who’d bend the knee to an Emperor. You folks have a clue who’s head he’s after?”
Sengoku nodded his head, “We have reports of his intentions on becoming King of the Pirates. We’ve heard witnesses claim he intends on facing Edward Newgate.”
The Fleet Admiral intentionally used the Emperor’s real name, for his epitaph created waves in the company of veterans. But this did nothing to dissuade the growing anger from Crocodile; a forehead vein threatened to burst.
“Whitebeard,” Crocodile snarled, “That brat thinks he can fight the old man, does he?”
Moriah bore his teeth, “Arrogant shitstain. Perhaps I will go to the New World to collect his corpse after Whitebeard puts him through the wringer.”
Mihawk perked up once more and looked directly at Sengoku, “Where are Whitebeard’s current whereabouts?”
Sengoku nodded, “Our scouts have lost sight of the Moby Dick, but I doubt that Whitebeard is hiding in his territory. Knowing the Fire Fist’s reputation, I believe the Emperor is waiting for him to act.”
Doflamigo laughed, “Then it sounds like this problem will settle itself out.”
Every head in the room turned to the fishman rising from his seat. He bowed his head to Sengoku and walked away. A vice admiral placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him, but one glare dissuaded him. Only the Fleet Admiral’s voice interrupted his leave.
“Are you planning on intercepting the Fire Fist, Son of the Sea?”
Jinbe turned his head and nodded, “Fire Fist Ace has thrown the world out of balance, and seeks to upend it off its axis. I’m heading to the New World to stop that from happening.”
Sengoku had not turned his head when addressing the Warlord, but nodded his head as if he did, “Very well.”
With no objections, Jinbe parted the doors and left his fellow Warlords and the Navy’s top echelons behind. His getas plonks echoed off the walls of Pangaea Castle with no end. Mariejois was the symbol of humanity’s dominance over his people and it gave him no comfort to wander its bowels.
He couldn’t complain. He offered his consumption to the World Government on his own accord.
Few were allowed into the Room of Authority. A Fleet Admiral and the Commander-in-Chief could make visits, but that privilege expected scant use. Those invited were people of extraordinary accomplishment and ability, who the Five Elders thought could be of use for the government. Many believed it unthinkable for a pirate to enter such a holy room, but a small few were allowed inside.
Jinbe held not just the honor of being among the few pirates to step forth into the Room of Authority, but the first Fishman to do so. Even with all his reservations against humans and the Celestial Dragons, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.
“Step forward, Son of the Sea,” Sait Marcus Mars’s soft voice made him quiver, and his strides carried hesitance.
The Five Elders, the five highest ranked Celestial Dragons. Each held a specialization in a field of government and held equal reigns over the world. The planet’s kings stood before Jinbe, and he couldn’t breathe.
Their faces never changed once during their meeting. A mix of stern, disinterest, and pride carved into their stone-like expressions. Sait Topman Warcury looked down at a Wanted Poster which bore Jinbe’s name, face, and price.
“First Son of the Sea Jinbe. Worth two-hundred-fifty million berries. Captain of the Sun Pirates and former soldier of the Ryugu Kingdom,”
“Your former captain was a powerful pirate in his own way. The stories say he climbed the Red Line and lay siege to the Domain of the Gods,” though Warcury looked at Jinbe as he addressed him, Jaygarcia Saturn’s eyes did not move. Jinbe did not know if the Elder could see him or not.
Saint Ethanbaron V Nusjuro squeezed his scabbard, “He lay waste to our holy home, and freed our brethren’s possessions. The cost of repairs was staggering.”
Saint Shepherd Ju Peter leaned against a chair and looked toward a wall bearing a pentagram, “Then he led a crew of fishmen. His antics were of a great nuisance to the World Government.”
Jinbe made no effort to speak until he was asked a question. A warning he intuited, but was given by marines and government officials alike. He wondered if it should give him comfort that they showed concern for a fishman.
Saturn’s gaze finally rested on Jinbe, and it carried the weight of the Red Line, “You are a powerful pirate, and we wish to use your strength to further our interests. You understand this, don’t you?”
Jinbe nodded his head, “I do. I understand what it means to be at your leash, Elders.”
“That is not true,” Saturn said. He stood from his chair and stepped toward the fishman, “You make that claim with that false idol, yet you do not know what it’s like to bear the hoof.”
His fellow elders were caught off guard by his outburst. Jinbe couldn’t move let alone speak, with the elder standing before him. Saturn pulled his kimono aside and touched his skin, where Tiger branded him with their symbol.
“Tiger marked you with this, so we couldn’t tell which among you were slaves or not, is that correct?”
“Yes, elder,” Jinbe whispered.
Saturn pulled his hand away and returned to his seat. He didn’t speak again in Jinbe’s presence.
“In return for your allegiance,” Ju Peter began, “You and your crew’s bounties will be frozen. You will be granted amnesty for all former crimes, and if necessary, future crimes will be looked over.”
Nusjuro continued, “Ten percent of what you plunder from pirates will be donated to the World Government.”
“We do not expect you to comply or cooperate with the navy,” Mars said, “But our orders are absolute. Violate them, and you will be hunted down with nothing less than a Buster Call.”
“Is there,” Warcury began, “Anything you wish to request?”
Jinbe nodded, “I stand before you for two reasons. To strengthen my people’s ties to the surface world. I believe my service to the government will accomplish this. And, I seek a pardon for a comrade of mine. Saw-tooth Arlong.”
Warcury reached into a pile of papers and pulled a wanted poster, “Yes. He was captured not long ago by Vice-Admiral Borsalino. Currently kept in Impel Down,” Warcury looked back at Jinbe, “I understand that you agree to our terms?”
He bowed his head, “Yes, Elder.”
Plumes of fire boiled the sea. Tsunamis doused the wildfires.
“Are you trying to delay the inevitable!? Waiting for Whitebeard to save you!?” Portgas D Ace shouted. He slid down the island slope and dipped his hands in the water. They turned ablaze and summoned a cloud of steam in the air. The sea evaporated at his touch and he walked into the barren ocean. From the clouds, his opponent came forth and struck him, but he fell through his fiery body.
This was a ruse. An ocean current flowed over Ace onto Jinbe, who wrangled it like it was solid, “Fishman Jujutsu! Ocean Current Shoulder Throw!”
The current changed direction and sped toward Ace. The Fire Fist showed no fear to the ocean’s embrace and stood his ground, “Flame Fist!” he threw a fire-engulfed punch at the incoming water.
Their attacks canceled each other out. The ocean retreated from their feet and they went into battle stances.
“If this is the best you have, you don’t have a chance against Pops,” Jinbe declared.
“Hmph,” Ace wiped a strand of water from his face and evaporated it on his skin, “You keep calling him ‘Pops.’ Any reason?”
Jinbe scowled and charged, “None that you would understand!” his opponent reformed into flames behind him and threw a kick at his back, “I know what you do! You charge into every battle and leave charcoal behind! But if you attack Whitebeard, do you have the slightest idea what will happen to my home!?” Haki imbued his arms and he threw a powerful punch.
Ace glared at Jinbe, and a sudden burst of energy threw Jinbe back and disappeared his Haki, “Do you think I’m a child or something? Of course I know what will happen. I don’t care. This isn’t about Fishman Island, or any territory the old man’s got. This is about me and Whitebeard and my father.”
Jinbe narrowed his eyes, “Allow me to answer your question. If that’s how you think, then you are a child. And it’s up to me to show you discipline!”
Jinbe opened his eyes and looked around. He was sitting at his bench at the Thousand Sunny’s helm. He could overhear his crewmates playing in the background and calmed himself down.
“Hey, Jinbe,” he looked up at the vessel’s shipwright, Franky, “You doing alright? Heard you snoring and you sounded like you were shivering. Having bad dreams?”
Jinbe shook his head, “Just memories, Franky.”
Franky crossed his arms and leaned against the mast, “What kinda memories?”
Jinbe looked out at the sea before his home, “The ones which led me here.”