"Well... I suppose that’s fine. I’ve got nothing better to do anyway."
Orin rubbed his chin thoughtfully after hearing the suggestion, a faint, intrigued smile curling his lips.
Vegapunk was still tinkering with his equipnt, occasionally sticking out his tongue as he glanced toward Orin.
"Um... that completely erased hundred years of history—are you really going to take a look at it, Orin-san?"
Orin nodded.
"Why not?"
"I heard that back then, there were countless kings around the world—and a war so massive and unbelievable it shook the planet!!!"
Vegapunk had actually done so research after reading the records from Ohara.
He knew that it was a story of one great kingdom standing alone against twenty others—but in the end, it tragically fell, giving rise to the current rulers of the world:
The Celestial Dragons and the World Governnt!
"But still..."
Vegapunk hesitated. From the ancient ruins left behind, and that massive ancient robot he once examined, it was clear—
That was an era far more advanced and powerful than the present day.
"...From what I know, the monsters of that ti were even more terrifying than the raging seas today. Even that one... who hides deep within the World Governnt..."
Vegapunk stuck his tongue out nervously. As he spoke of that being, a wary glint flashed in his eyes, and beads of sweat rolled down his face.
He was aware of Imu’s existence—eight hundred years ago, the world was crawling with incomprehensible beings, an age filled with gods and demons.
Even the legendary Sun God Nika, whom Vegapunk admired so much, had t his end in that era.
"Isn’t facing a challenge part of what makes life fun~?"
Orin didn’t seem bothered at all. He even cracked his neck with excitent, a rare fire burning in his eyes.
As his strength grew, the number of battles worthy of being called "high-tier" had dwindled. Fighting Yonko-level opponents no longer thrilled him.
But if he could face the Twenty Kings themselves—or even Joy Boy in person?
Now that would be worth it!
As for the possibility of losing, Orin had considered that too—but if he couldn’t win, he could always run.
Sure, there might be so "bugged" boss-like enemies—like Joy Boy himself—but hey, he’d already chosen the pirate’s life.
What pirate was ever afraid of dying?
If Orin feared death, his spirit wouldn’t have grown to this level in the first place.
"If I’m really going this ti..."
Orin lifted his gaze to the sky, silently calculating the ti. He had to return before Sea Circle Calendar Year 1520.
Otherwise, he’d miss out on all the fun.
After all, the real chaos began when Luffy officially set sail—before that, the events were only mildly interesting.
"I guess I’ll be gone for quite a few years..."
It was a good thing Orin had retired—if he suddenly vanished without notice, the seas would’ve erupted in chaos again.
Rumors of Orin’s death, rebellions, and all that nonsense would surely follow...
But with the absolutely loyal Shichibukai guarding his territories, Orin wasn’t worried at all.
"Alright then... let’s go take a look."
Orin was never one to hesitate. Once he made up his mind, he acted imdiately.
He picked up a Den Den Mushi and began calling his subordinates.
...
In a certain abandoned castle—
Clack, clack, clack...
Mihawk was slicing vegetables with calm precision. On the luxurious sofa beside him, a little girl was floating in the air, hugging her stuffed doll, eyes fixed on the desserts laid out on the table.
Seeing Mihawk—dressed in a white shirt and still focused on cooking without looking her way—the little Perona reached out a finger, ready to dip it into the cream for a taste.
"No sweets before dinner."
A deep, calm voice with a hint of magnetism broke the silence.
Perona nearly jumped in fright.
Mihawk hadn’t even turned his head—his hands kept moving, blade steady—but sohow, he still knew exactly what she was about to do.
The little girl puffed up her cheeks, glaring at his back.
"So cold and an!! Mihawk-san!!!"
"If it weren’t for Moria-sama agreeing to it, I’d never co stay with you!!!"
Mihawk, the wandering swordsman of the seas, had traveled the world challenging renowned swordmasters.
After visiting Alabasta, he’d heard rumors from Moria’s territory—about a famous swordsman who’d once slain a dragon, later turned into a puppet.
Intrigued, he went to see for himself, fought the swordsman’s reanimated body, and afterward checked in on Perona as well.
Since Orin had personally asked him to look after the little one, Mihawk agreed to bring her along—essentially "babysitting" for Moria.
Together, they rode his coffin-shaped boat to Mihawk’s newly found ho.
As Perona complained, her Negative Ghosts fluttered around under her control, circling Mihawk aimlessly.
"Keep those ghosts quiet."
Mihawk frowned slightly. He still rembered how those seemingly harmless ghosts had humiliated him in front of Orin.
Just seeing them now irritated him.
"If you’re that hungry, wait for dinner. Sweets are bad for children’s teeth."
Before Mihawk could continue, the Den Den Mushi on the table started ringing.
Buru buru buru buru...
He sighed, set down the knife, and answered the call.
Click.
"Hawk."
The face that appeared from the Den Den Mushi’s projection wore a smiling expression, crimson light flickering in his eyes.
Only one man in the world ever called him that. Mihawk didn’t even need to guess.
"What’s the trouble this ti? Just say it."
He asked coldly, not bothering with pleasantries.
Because he knew Orin too well—if that man was calling, it was never for a casual chat.
"Ahahahahaha!"
Orin burst out laughing. There wasn’t a hint of awkwardness in his tone—just shared understanding between old comrades.
"As expected of my most trusted Hawk~ Yes... I’ll be leaving the seas again for a while. Probably a long while."
"How long?"
"Maybe... quite a few years. Not sure."
Mihawk’s golden eyes narrowed, the layered irises reflecting Orin’s crimson gaze through the Den Den Mushi. After a brief silence, he nodded.
"Alright. Understood."
No need for extra words—one sentence was enough.
With Orin acting less and less on the seas lately, Mihawk’s own reputation had grown to rival even that of the Yonko.
That, in itself, was part of why Orin could afford to slack off.
"Thanks a lot~"
Mihawk just gave a faint smile, his sharp gaze brimming with confidence.
"It’s nothing. At worst..."
"I’ll just find sothing to make life a little less boring."
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Pls Drop so Power Stones
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