One Piece: Investing In Whitebeard At The Start.

This was the eighth day since Vane last robbed the Heavenly Tribute.

The tribute had been stolen, and the Celestial Dragons—accustomed to their luxurious lives filled with indulgence—were once again enraged. This time, their fury reached a boiling point. They protested as one, demanding vengeance. They wanted him dead, turned to ash. He was the one who killed two Celestial Dragons. He was the one who stole the Heavenly Tribute. And he was the one who swore he'd take it every time he saw it.

His very existence made the Celestial Dragons feel humiliated. They saw themselves as gods—supreme beings. With their so-called "noble bloodline," they believed they were above all, rulers of the world for over 800 years. Their ancestors were the self-proclaimed creators of everything that exists.

At least, that's what they believed.

And yet a fifteen-year-old pirate had ignited their wrath and shaken the foundations of Mariejois. The Celestial Dragons protested to the Five Elders.

They had one goal: capture this insolent pirate. They wanted him to suffer a fate worse than death.

At the same time, they lashed out at Marine Headquarters. To the Celestial Dragons, the Navy was worthless trash—incapable of capturing a single pirate, completely unaware of his whereabouts. In their eyes, the Navy had become a disgrace.

The feeling was mutual.

"Those damn Celestial Dragons!" Sengoku roared, slamming his fist into his desk. For the fourth time during this period, he shattered it. Three of those times were because of Vane. This one was thanks to the Celestial Dragons.

"Too arrogant!" he growled.

Kizaru spoke lazily, "The Celestial Dragons aren't exactly easy to deal with."

He added, "I think we've been tricked. That brat claimed he was going to Alabasta, so Sakazuki stayed there for five days. Not a single sign of him. Not even a whisper. And Sakazuki was working in secret."

Akainu had called that morning, furious. He'd practically torn up all of Alabasta trying to find the so called Vane.

At present, only four people remained in the Fleet Admiral's office—Garp, Sengoku, Tsuru, and Kizaru. Akainu had gone to hunt Vane. Aokiji had set out the day before on his bicycle.

Sengoku clenched his teeth. "I think so too. That little bastard!"

Kizaru glanced at the newspaper. "If we let him continue growing, it'll be a real disaster."

Garp nodded. "Exactly. He's only fifteen. He's got plenty of time to grow stronger. My own strength hasn't declined yet, and I'm still in good shape."

He was in his seventies now. As a master of hand-to-hand combat, his physical condition was still far better than Whitebeard's—despite being around the same age.

Sengoku frowned. "So you're saying he might have sixty more years of growth?"

Garp shrugged. "I'm not saying for sure. But if no one stops him…"

Sengoku sighed. "The Celestial Dragons are becoming a real headache."

He continued, frustrated, "The New World is already a mess. And now something happens in the first half of the Grand Line. We still don't even know where that little bastard is hiding. The sea's just too damn big."

---

It was the morning after Vane had killed Rob Lucci. He returned to his hotel—doves in tow.

"That dove… Rob Lucci's dove?" Kalifa gasped.

She recognized it immediately. The dove had always followed Rob Lucci. And now it was perched in Vane's hands. The implication hit her like a shockwave.

"Rob Lucci… is dead?" Kalifa asked, her voice trembling.

"Yes. Cause of death—revenge," Vane replied as he approached and untied the ropes around her.

"Revenge…?" she echoed in disbelief. Rob Lucci—the invincible killer—was dead? Her body went cold.

Those words shook her. The idea that Lucci had died in a personal vendetta chilled her to the bone.

"Yes," Vane repeated calmly. "Revenge. You've done that sort of thing yourself, haven't you?"

"…Right…"

Vane finished untying her. "Congratulations. You're free."

"Free?" Kalifa blinked, confused. She thought she misheard.

Vane gave a faint smile. "Freedom only exists within the bounds of order. Do you understand?"

Freedom… under order?

Kalifa stood silently for more than twenty seconds, slowly realizing what he meant.

The order… was Vane. Her freedom was something granted by him. Only through submitting to him—could she have freedom.

"I understand."

Kalifa had surrendered. She couldn't even match Lucci, and Lucci had been killed by Vane. What chance did she have?

Vane had given her two choices—life or death. She knew she was attractive, had turned heads in Water 7 with ease. But that meant nothing to Vane. He'd punched her in the stomach four times without hesitation. And then calmly chatted with her afterward, smiling like it was nothing.

It was clear that Vane didn't want her as just a cook, cleaner, or even a sailor. He had other plans—perhaps as a combatant.

"That's right. A woman can't rely on beauty alone. She needs brains, too," Vane said as he stood by the window, releasing the white dove.

"Looks like I'll have to visit Enies Lobby. After all, the rest of you aren't here."

"You… you're going to kill them all?" Kalifa stammered.

Vane looked at her and responded with a metaphor: "Flies… buzzing around… can be annoying. Their noise gets under your skin. And if you don't kill one, it brings others."

A crude comparison.

To Vane, they were nothing more than insects. From his perspective, the world was filled with ants.

---

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