The next morning, Pablo woke with the first threads of sunlight.
He got up from his bed in the dirty inn. Washed his face. Put on his black clothes. Tucked his pistol under his belt. Sling his bag over his shoulder. Went down the stairs. Returned the key to the old man without exchanging a word. Went out into the morning streets of Thorn Island.
The island was different in the morning. Quieter. Less chaotic. But its spirit was the sa. Chaotic. Dangerous. Lawless.
Pablo did not look back. He walked outside the city. Moved away from sight. Reached the rocky hill where he had landed days earlier. He stood. Looked at the sky.
He raised his hand.
After monts, the cloud moved from among the high clouds. Descended gradually. It had been waiting for him there all those days.
He jumped on it gracefully. The cloud swayed slightly under the weight of his bag. Then it steadied.
He stood on it. Looked at Thorn Island for the last ti.
It was black, dark, full of blood and chaos. But it had taught him sothing. It taught him that power is everything.
The cloud moved. Rose high with him. Set off towards the southeast.
He did not look back.
---
Pablo's journey above the Calm Belt began.
He knew this journey would be different from all the previous ones. He was not traveling over ordinary seas. He was traveling over a region abandoned by humans, with few exceptions.
In this world, if anyone wanted to go to the Grand Line from the four oceans, they would need to head to the Red Line, the giant mountain that surrounds the world. There, they must climb the Reverse Mountain, the extraordinary current that launches ships to the top of the mountain, then drops them into the Grand Line.
There was no other way. No one dared to cross the Calm Belt.
Why?
For two reasons.
First: the absence of wind. The Calm Belt was a dead zone. No wind. No currents. No waves. Sailing ships could not move in it. Even steamships faced difficulties. The sea was still, dead, like a huge stagnant lake.
Second: the ancient Sea Kings. Beneath that calm sea lived the largest creatures in the world. Gigantic sea monsters, larger than any ship, more powerful than any weapon. They attacked anything that moved on the water's surface. Ships that dared to enter the Calm Belt never returned.
These two reasons made the Calm Belt a natural barrier that could not be crossed.
As for him, he had no obstacle. Since he would fly above it, he had no concern for the wind that was not there—he could use it whenever he wished—and no concern for the Sea Kings, as he was flying far away from them.
---
The first days of the journey were calm.
The sea beneath him was still blue, beautiful, full of waves. But as the days passed, changes began.
The sea beca calr. The waves disappeared. The surface beca as smooth as a mirror. No wind. No currents. No movent. Just still water, stretching to the horizon, like a giant lake.
Then he began to see the shadows.
Beneath the water, enormous shapes moved. Larger than anything he had ever seen in his life. They moved slowly, lazily, as if they knew they feared nothing.
Sea Kings.
From his height, Pablo could see them clearly. They were imnse. Their bodies were diverse: so resembled giant serpents, so resembled massive whales, and so had enormous claws and teeth.
Pablo stood on his cloud, looking down. He was not afraid. He was too high. He knew they could not reach him.
He continued flying. High. Calm. Confident.
The days passed. He read the books he had with him. He ate from his dried supplies. The journey was long. About three weeks. But he did not stop.
He did not want to delay.
---
On the twenty-first day, he saw the change.
The sea began to change. Its color beca deeper. Waves began to appear again. The wind began to blow lightly. The clouds beca denser.
He had crossed the Calm Belt.
He had entered the Grand Line.
He felt sothing strange in his chest. Not fear. No. Sothing else. Anticipation. Excitent. He knew this was the place where the strong gathered. This was the place where he would learn Haki. This was the place where he would find what he wanted.
He followed his course and looked at the horizon. The sea stretched endlessly. But in the distance, there was sothing.
He approached. It began to take shape. It was a large island, green, beautiful. On its slopes, white houses with red and blue roofs were scattered. Cobblestone streets. A huge grapevine decorated the center of the town. Statues of archers were scattered everywhere.
Pablo recognized it imdiately.
Whiskey Peak.
The first island in the Grand Line. The island that the Straw Hat crew reached after entering the great sea. It was famous for its archers, its wine, and its celebrations. But Pablo knew more than that. He knew it was a town of spies belonging to the Baroque Works organization.
But at this ti, Baroque Works had not yet been established. Crocodile had not yet beco a Shichibukai. The organization did not exist. Whiskey Peak was just a small, quiet town, famous for its wine and archery.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
Pablo smiled. He knew the Grand Line was full of surprises. He would not believe anything he saw.
He lowered his cloud gradually. Approached the island. Chose a secluded spot outside the town to land. He did not want anyone to see him descending from the sky.
He jumped from the cloud. Landed on solid ground for the first ti in three weeks.
He sent the cloud upward. It would disappear among the clouds. It would stay there waiting for him.
He stood on the ground. Looked around. The air was different. Cleaner. Colder. The sll of sea and grapes filled the place.
He raised his eyes. He saw the white town on the hill. He saw the red and blue roofs. He saw the huge grapevine in the center. He saw people moving in the streets.
It was Whiskey Peak.
It was the Grand Line.
Pablo smiled. It was a genuine smile. For the first ti in months, he felt he was in the right place.
"I have arrived," he said in a low voice.
Then he walked towards the town. He had much to see. Much to do. Much to learn.
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