Lovely Rear Admiral

The construction on the submarine had ceased for the night, and the shouts turned into a faint murmur that belonged only to the pirates of the vessel. The mafia would be back first thing in the morning to finish the upgrades on Flevance, which left the crew time to inspect the goons handiwork. Shachi had reported to the surgeon about how he was impressed with the work so far. Law was pleased to hear the news, especially since he was preoccupied with his new patient and didn't have the time to inspect shoddy craftsmanship.

Law was hunched over his desk, the very tiny kitten wiggling anxiously on the metal surface as the surgeon inspected the animal, and Ameria anxiously watched him work. She was settled in close to his side, her arms wrapped around his and her cheek resting against his bicep. She refrained from asking questions, so not to interrupt the surgeon's concentration, but a loud startled mewl broke her silence.

"Don't hurt her."

"Him," Law corrected.

"Don't hurt him."

"Ameria," Law paused the examination and looked at her. "Do you honestly think, as a doctor, I am capable of hurting a patient under my care, even if it is an animal?"

"…"

"…"

Her silence made him scowl.

"Y-You get carried away sometimes…" Ameria admitted sheepishly.

Law pursed his lips in thought. "I…won't deny that." He agreed. "But," he was quick to add. "That is only when I use my powers. I can heal myself without trouble or trauma. Sadly, that effect does not carry over when I use the same power on others, as you know firsthand… In anycase, since I'm not regenerating anything for the cat, you don't need to worry about me getting carried away."

"Does that mean there's nothing wrong?" Ameria inquired readily, squeezing his arm tightly.

"Nothing that needs regeneration, no," Law answered, frowning grimly. "There are still some issues. He has an ear infection, for one, but there could be more. I would need to take a sample for blood work… I'd also need a stool sample to see if he has worms… He feels unnaturally thin and there is this strange substance on his back paw… and…" The surgeon mumbled a number of things. His voice turned into a soft grumble, and he slipped away from her grasp as he pulled out a notepad and pen from the desk drawer. Law scribbled out a list, the items growing in number as he continued.

Ameria watched as the surgeon's brow wrinkled in frustration, which made her frown guiltily. "I can go out and get anything we need," she offered, tapping his shoulder to grab his attention. "I don't mind helping out in any way that I can, especially since I asked to keep him."

Law stopped writing and was silent for a moment, the frustrated crease turning into a worried crease on his brow. "While that sentiment is appreciated, I will hold on that offer for the time being."

"Is it because it'll be really expensive?" She asked. "Maybe I can get another favor from the Mafia. They told me that they're at my disposal."

Law blinked, staring at her for a minute before saying: "Interesting, but no. The price for supplies isn't a concern when it comes to caring for one of my patients, whether it be a person or animal. I actually don't want anyone to wander around for the moment…" Then he continued to write his lengthy list, but under his breath, he mumbled: "I need to get a group to investigate…"

Ameria shifted in her seat, but she didn't pry. She had a feeling that it had something to do with the sneaky spy that everyone felt watching them. Instead, she decided to change the topic; maybe it would help distract the surgeon since he looked stressed with worry.

She scooted closer to the surgeon and wrapped her arm around his again. "What do you think about the name Glory?" She asked him, smiling happily. "Doesn't that sound cute for a cute little kitten?"

Law looked over at her, his brow arched in curiosity. "Glory, eh?" Then he hummed in thought as he placed the pen down on top of the notepad and he reached out to stroke the very tiny kitten sleeping soundly on the desk. "I think I'd prefer something…different."

Ameria frowned. "You don't like it?"

"It's not that I don't like it, per say, I just want something different," Law replied. "Like…Morgana."

"But that's a girl's name!" Ameria protested.

"And Glory doesn't sound at all feminine for a fair feline," Law teased.

Ameria pulled away from the surgeon and she crossed her arms over her chest. "But Morgana is clearly a girl's name. You can't just give a girl's name to a boy."

"Ah-ah-ah," Law tsked, saying each note with a rhythmical pause in between, and he waved a finger back and forth in front of her face. "In the North Blue, there is a legend about a lucky cat named Morgana that protected the notorious Captain Skull's treasure from the Marines for 100 years. I think it would be fitting if we had a cat with the same name aboard the Flevance. Especially with your luck, yeah?"

Ameria frowned. "But you said I was getting better…"

Law smirked. "You can never be too sure," he mused, reaching out to curl a strand of her hair around his finger. "I want to have all my ducks in a row before your rotten luck strikes again. It might dull the effects of your curse."

Ameria swatted his hand away. "S-S-Stop it," she huffed, scowling at him when the tiny stutter in her voice made the surgeon chuckle in amusement. Not in the mood to be teased anymore, Ameria stood up from the stool and snatched the very tiny kitten along the way. Morgana mewled in surprise, his bright blue eyes darting around, but then they quickly closed as the feline fell asleep in her arms.

"Morgana stays in the sickbay," Law told her before she could leave the room. "He is my patient, even if he is a cat."

Ameria sent Law a sour look when she saw his cheeky smile. Then she pivoted on her heel and she made her way to one of the cots. Ameria laid down, getting comfortable on the thin mattress and then she placed Morgana on the pillow beside her head.

"I just bought you a new bed, you know?"

Ameria didn't respond.

Law got up from his seat with a heavy sigh and then went to one of the cabinets. He sifted through the contents and retrieved what he wanted. Then he walked over to the cot. The rustle of thick fabric drifted through her ears, and warmth enveloped her body when a blanket was laid on top of her.

Law crouched down beside the cot to look her in the eyes and then told her: "You're a real pain in my ass, you know that?"

"At least I didn't take Morgana out of the room," Ameria countered. "I still listened to what you said."

"Loopholes," Law smiled and reached out to gently pat her cheek. "That's what I like about you, Ameria," then he stood up and returned to the desk, browsing through a stack of files that Alicia had prepared for him.

The author had visited the sickbay briefly before she went to bed because she wanted Law to look over the documents about the many islands they would be visiting. The places they would go were dangerous, so the surgeon had to be thoroughly prepared. Then Alicia made a side comment about how he can read the little mage diary later, which had made Law nearly pop a blood vessel. While Law silently read and flipped through the pages, Ameria dozed off on the cot. It wasn't the first time she fell asleep in the sickbay, so she easily drifted off to sleep. The darkness was welcomed. The void and abyss was warm and blissful, but it only lasted a split second, just like a quick snap of her fingers. Something tugged on her hair, forcing her awake. She thought it was Morgana, but she groaned when she saw it was a tattooed hand that played with her hair.

Law stood over her with Morgana cradled to his chest, the very tiny kitten fitting comfortably in his palm. "Time to wake up, Ameria," the surgeon told her, pulling at her knotty ebony curls. "I'm surprised you slept like a log through all the construction. Finally used to it? Good. Anyway, it's almost 4 o'clock and I have a task for you."

Ameria peeled away from the thin mattress and rubbed the sand from her eyes. "What is it?" She groggily asked.

Law let go of her hair and pulled a folded slip of paper from his pocket. "You need to go out shopping," and he handed her the paper. "You said you'd handle the list for me, remember?"

Ameria looked over the messy list that filled the page. There was mostly kitten and cat supplies the surgeon mumbled about the previous night. However, toward the bottom of the page she saw items that had nothing to do with felines at all. It was a short list of small items: bacon jerky for Charlie, two packs of cigarettes for Jim and Mike, a lint roller for Bepo, a bag of caramel coffee for Sam and Brodie, a six pack of kiwi lemonade for Sal, and a charter magazine by the Bluez Boyz for Cleon. A simple trip downtown and she could buy everything, but the bone mage felt oddly anxious about going out on her own. The prying eyes from the other day paired with the idea of being alone didn't seem wise. Maybe it was because the surgeon relentlessly teased her about her rotten luck and it stuck to her like a parasite.

"Should I really go out by myself?" She questioned. "Maybe someone should go with me? Remember yesterday…"

Law nonchalantly cast aside her concern with a wave of his hand. "The mafia is working on the upgrades and the boys need to watch them like hawks. If you're worried about being followed, I already have Shachi, Penguin and Bepo investigating the city. They just reported back a few minutes ago that nothing feels suspicious, which is why I decided to wake you up and send you on your way to the store. You will be fine on your own."

Ameria nodded and then got up from the cot with the list in hand. If she needed Law in a pinch, she still had that den-den mushi. She also had Bas, who did help her handle a giant man-eating scorpion. That left her feeling a bit more confident that she could take care of a few lowly Marines if she crossed them. So, she left with confidence, except the moment she left the port, she instantly felt it. She tried to trust the surgeon's words that nothing was suspicious and it was only in her mind, but she couldn't.

Ameria tried her best to surpass the chill that ran down her spine, except it lingered: the unsettling sensation of eyes boring holes into her soul. The supposed quick trip to Doubloon Square suddenly became something dangerous, but she could handle it. Law said she would be fine, and she would trust his judgement. She still needed—no, she wanted to prove she was strong.

She darted down the first alleyway she saw, very aware that she would tip off her pursuers that she knew of their presence. She glided through the darkness, the shadows a black veil that was supposed to hide her away from the prying eyes, but they never vanished. Then a flurry of violent tremors shook the ground, a thunderous stampede of pounding feet charged down the alleyway. Before the bone mage even had time to react, a group of Marines appeared with rifles cocked and at the ready.

"Surrender, Bones!"

Instinctively, Ameria raised her hands when the muzzles were jabbed in her direction. Sweat dripped down her cheek and she gulped, her throat instantly dry. Then with a mental shake of her head, she cleared her mind and scowled at the Marines. Her hands high above her hand started glowing a wild shade of grey.

"Ack—!" She choked when a rifle's barrel was against her throat from behind, locking against her jaw. She struggled against the Marine's rifle, her knuckles turning white as she tried to push away the sturdy barrel, but it only made the man apply more pressure to restrain her.

The small line of Marines lowered their rifles, yet they were anything but relaxed. Caution gleamed in their dark eyes as they clutched their rifles close to their chests. One of the Marines from the row stuffed his hand into the deep pocket of his navy blue trousers and pulled out a tiny den-den mushi. The little snail's shell was a deep shade of blue with two vertical purple stripes that wrapped around the sides, and painted over those violet stripes were the white letters MRD.

Ameria growled at the sight, wrestling the Marine's rifle more intensely when she saw the little snail ring in its dull dial tone and then she shouted: "T—Tanker now!"

The noisy familiar popped out from the folds of her white jacket, a large vial that glowed red in his bony grasp. The Marines were startled by the familiar's presence and readied their rifles once more, but were too late. Tanker threw his alchemy concoctions to the cobblestone, the glass shattering into a million pieces to release a smog of crimson gas that burned the eyes of the enemy.

Ameria quickly dashed away from the smoke, wiping away the small tears that formed at the corner of her eyes. Then she dug her heels into the ground, screeching to a stop when more Marines spilled into the alleyway. "Shit!"

"W—What do we do now?!" Tanker squealed, clinging desperately to her shoulder.

Both of Ameria's hands were engulfed with grey, her fingers wiggling in the aura, and a large skull was produced in the blink of an eye. Then with a battlecry, she hurled the ethereal skull toward the Marines, the ghostly visage laughing as it expanded rapidly and hit dozens of soldiers. The men and women fell to the ground, victim to the powerful hex that brought tears to their eyes and make them scream in agony. The Marines that witnessed the attack stepped back, anxious beads of sweat dripping down their faces. But, more Marines replaced those that had fallen or wavered. Her hands still glowing grey, the bone mage animated a flurry of skeletal creations to aid her in battle. Dozens of lively human skeletons leapt through the air, pouncing on startled Marines. Then the bone mage dashed through the fray, exiting the chaos only to be blocked by even more enemies around the corner. They were like cockroaches, and she couldn't take it anymore.

Ameria flipped back her jacket, revealing little Shnell that held the large skull in his tiny skeletal hands. She slapped her palm on the smooth collagen and shouted: "Release!"

An inky black mass erupted from the skull. Tendrils of pure darkness beat against the stone walls and whipped away any man in their path. Bas stalked out of the black void and surveyed the scene.

The spirit looked over the Marines trembling in fear, and his lip curled in disgust. "Weak," he scoffed. "Unworthy of my collection."

"Good," Ameria replied. "Because I'd prefer if you didn't kill anyone at this moment. I don't need an even bigger bounty on my head."

Bas looked over his shoulder and smirked coyly. "Our interest align this time, but only this time."

Ameria rolled her eyes. "Just distract them for me," she ordered. "I need to contact Law right away. He has to know about the MRD."

Bas's brow arched in curiosity. "You didn't tell him about them?"

Ameria frowned and shifted anxiously on her feet. "It—It was something that didn't come up, so I didn't—wait, no, forget about that!" The bone mage scowled at the spirit. "Just do what I tell you so I can get somewhere safe!"

The smile returned to Bas's lips. "As you wish," and a large dark cloud of thick mist enveloped the narrow alley.

The RC: the Collection of Wizards by Professor Blinkhorn Watson.

The upgrades for Flevance were completed, which finally gave Law a moment of peace to examine his new piece of literature. Though he had the time, he oddly found himself debating whether or not to read the textbook that laid idly on his desk. He wanted to understand the bone mage's magic so he could help train her more efficiently, but the fact that the book was sectioned off as fiction made him waver. But, he needed a starting point. If it meant reading a poorly translated description of magic, then so be it. Maybe Ameria could clarify any questions he had. The textbook would be a good beginning reference instead of overwhelming her with explaining everything about magic.

As Law stroked the very tiny kitten perched on his knee, he finally flipped open the book and began reading its contents.

Like Miss Alicia had mentioned, it was a book filled with nothing but conspiracy theories and rumors. It was still an interesting text, to say the least. A piece of documentary that was categorized as fiction in libraries and bookstores across the world. Though, the book was written almost like a memoir about the experiments, interviews and experiences that the professor had rather than a documentary filled with facts and history.

The fog was the first key point the professor wrote in detail about, for the stories of the phenomena are what drew his attention to the West Blue. An interminable fog covered an untouched island and Professor Blinkhorn had surveyed the eerie mist day and night from a little fisherman's boat for over a year. He documented that ships had entered and left the fog with ease, but when he and his crew tried to, they were turned around and exited the mist the same way they came in.

Curious about the mysterious ships with white sails and the red letters of RC stitched into the heavy material, the professor then began the next phase of his research: the people.

The professor recorded the legends, rumors and tales from neighboring islands. All the locals he interviewed proclaimed that the mysterious people were the Mages of RC. There was a story about how the royal nobles of the West Blue tried to enslave the mages for their personal use, reasons ranging from soldiers to entertainers, but the attempt backfired drastically. The damages were so devastating that the World Government and Marines had intervened to keep the peace. The outcome was a very isolated country that only interacted with the world for trade.

After that, there were many firsthand accounts written by Professor Blinkhorn about how he came in contact with the merchants of the island.

They were secretive, he wrote. They did not like it when I came into contact with them, especially when I wished to ask questions about their culture and origins.

The well-armed soldiers that accompanied the merchants were eager to strike me down—and it should be noted that I shall further elaborate on these soldiers that can control the very elements in a later chapter. However, they obeyed the words of a man that wore a golden mask. The soldiers would always steadied their blades when this masked man ordered them to.

I came across these men many a times once I started to actively search for the people of the RC. The men, and sometimes women, wore similar black clothing, such as tunics, trousers and boots, but they wore different colored cloaks. I came in contact with men and women wearing the colors of crimson, rust and even grey. The cloaks were made of a thick material that could easily hide the figures of their body and they also had cowls to further hide any features that the mask could not.

The masks must be a symbol of authority, since they did all the speaking. The masked men and women seemed to sense that I meant no harm with my questions, yet they refused to answer.

Still, they showed no signs of stopping my research despite that, maybe because they were confident that I wouldn't find anything that would disrupt their way of life.

Disrupting their lives was never my goal, only the desire to document unknown knowledge, but it seemed to upset others. The Marines were harsh when they discovered my research on the RC—they were more upset than the citizens of the island itself. I believe this validates the story of the violence between the mages and nobles because I even had officials from the World Government confront me on my research. They threatened me to stop, for the island wished to uphold their privacy.

Yet, it did not make sense. If the people of RC wanted me to stop they would have stopped me. This only makes me want to discover more. I want to know why—

—purupurupuru.

The sound of the den-den mushi went off and he glanced at it. Ca-jack, he picked up the receiver. "Yes?"

The once sleepy snail's blank expression turned into something filled with anxiety. "C—Captain?"

"Ameria?" Law didn't like the tone of her voice. "What's wrong?"

"M—Marines attacked me."

"What?!" Law stood up from his seat. Though, he was quick to grab the sleepy kitten he nearly forgotten and he held the startled feline carefully in his hand.

"I'm alright. Bas is causing a distraction for me so I was able to slip away. I'm in this little shop for cover. I think they don't know where I am, but I'm sure they will find me soon…"

"This isn't good, Miss Bones." Law snapped and he held the kitten closer to his chest.

"I—I know that! I—I'm sorry!"

Law sighed, frustrated. "No. No, no. It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Just don't move—"

"Captain!"

Law paused mid-sentence, his eyes flickering up to see the sickbay door swing open quickly and Shachi stormed in.

There was a grimace on the ginger's lips as he stood before his captain. "There's a problem." Shachi stated bluntly.

Law's brow twitched. "What now?"

"It's him."

"Who?" Law snapped.

"The lovely Rear Admiral," Shachi answered. "We saw his ship docked at Fort Allison. Should we hightail it outta here?" And he jerked a thumb over his shoulder when he asked the question.

The surgeon went pale. "Fuck." He hissed and spoke into the receiver again. "Ameria," he tried to keep his voice calm, but it was proving difficult. "Don't you dare move a single inch. Stay close to people if possible. Understand?"

The concern in her tone was noticeable, but she still said: "Y—Yes..." even with a little stutter. "But there is still something I need to talk about—"

"That can wait," Law told her. "I need to get to you right now. Tell me where you are. Exactly."

"I—I don't know…but it's an intersection…um, the c—corner of Kaden Street and Tanner Avenue...I think."

"Give me ten minutes. Try and act natural," Law told her and when she confirmed his orders, he quickly hung up the den-den mushi. "Get ready to leave, tell the others." He ordered the ginger, handing him the kitten as he walked towards the door.

Shachi blinked when he was given the cat, but he shook it off. "G—Got it!" He nodded and rushed out of the sickbay with the surgeon.

Law had to force himself not to sprint through the streets; it would only cause more attention to himself. He didn't want to cause a scene, especially since he was on Doubloon's Main Street downtown.

Thank god I gave her that den-den mushi…he inwardly thought.

He got to the shop in time, but his eyes went wide when he saw the closed sign hanging on the door's window. A vile feeling was bubbling in his stomach, especially when he saw how people were avoiding that section of the street and he didn't think it had to do with his presence.

Law pursed his lips. "This doesn't look good," he murmured.

"C—Captain!"

His steely grey eyes flickered open wide and he turned around, watching as his first-mate barreled toward him through the crowd. "Bepo?!"

"I…was still…at the base…with Penguin when Shachi left…to tell you about the ship," Bepo wheezed with his paws on his knees, completely out of breath. "But…but Ameria was kidnapped by him! We saw it all!"

Law closed his eyes and bit his lip. "That bastard…"

The Rear Admiral leaned against the coarse wall of the alleyway, hidden by a veil of shadows as he surveyed the bustling port. His sharp steely gaze was trained on the yellow submarine that had a small group of pirates enjoying a smoke break on deck, and then he spotted the familiar little speck of green: the wool laplander.

The Marines that waited behind him were eager to charge, but he held up a hand to keep them at bay. Then he looked back to the pirates, watching as the mage spoke with her crewmates briefly before leaving the safety of the submarine all by herself.

He waved a hand over his shoulder and ordered: "Continue to stick to the shadows of the alleys. Don't lose sight of her."

The soldiers nodded to their superior and quickly went to fulfill the command, dispersing from the cramped alleyway.

He left the comfort of the shadows, his normal uniform replaced with a civilian's attire so he could easily blend in with the crowds. He removed the large pair of sunglasses that were hanging from the front collar of his jet-black overcoat and placed them over his steely grey eyes. Then adjusting the bill of his white navy-blue spotted cap, he began to trail behind the mage before she got out of sight.

His target: Manolia Ameria.

She was better known as Bones, but she had become a target of the MRD ever since they discovered her in Alabasta and saw that she had joined the infamous Straw Hats. Though, she had become a top priority target when they found out that she was the daughter of the violent Wolverine. No bounty hunter worth their salt would go after the Wolverine's kin, so the task of recovering her was left to him. Bones was a slippery one, especially due to the Straw Hats' unpredictable nature, but with the Heart Pirates the situation had changed.

Despite the fact that a decade had passed, the Rear Admiral never stopping watching the Surgeon of Death since that fateful day. In his heart, he felt he still knew Law like the back of his hand. Therefore snatching Bones up would be no issue, but he also knew Law wouldn't remove his fangs without a fight.

While concerning that there would be an unavoidable encounter, the Rear Admiral had too much on the line regarding his position to lose such an opportunity.

He shook the thought from his mind and pushed further through the crowds, closing the distance between himself and Bones. Then suddenly she reared off into the alleyways. He slowed down his pace, his brows furrowing, but then now inwardly cursed himself for allowing his concentration to break just enough for her to catch on.

The Rear Admiral was more careful as he continued his pursuit. Slower this time. He weaved through the narrow alleys, narrowly keeping an eye on her tracks.

Then he heard the cries of pure agony echo off the walls, men howling in pain. His men. The Rear Admiral broke out into a sprint, his stealth dissolved, but then he stopped dead in his tracks.

A toxic looking red mist blocked his path. It was thin, but thick with heat that made his steely grey eyes water behind his sunglasses. As he crept through the alley, the mist made his exposed skin prickle, though it was nothing compared to his men that received the brunt of the attack. Their skin was covered in large green blotches and tiny purple toadstools sprouted from the damaged skin.

He approached the scene slowly, a long grimace on his lips. They had easily fallen victim to one of the mage's gas bombs. "I told them to be careful of that," he sighed in disappointment.

The sound of battle continued around the corner, and he saw a number of his men engaged in combat with an army of undead animations. Cartilage snapped, breaking into pieces when the soldiers bashed the crazy skeletons with the butts of their rifles. Then a rush of black mist engulfed the area, and a man clad in black strolled nonchalantly through the ominous fog. There was a broad grin on his lips as the smoke consumed him, and two crimson eyes peered through the darkness. A bloodcurdling roar made the Marines quiver in fear as a monstrous crow formed from the black cloud.

The Rear Admiral's eyes opened never thought he would see one in person outside of the horror stories other officers told him about the rare magical specimens called spirits. The creatures rarely ever left their native islands and they were always in the possession of a mage. He had a slight his suspicions that Bones picked one up on the island of Evergreen, based on the information gathered from the village leader, but now that the theory became a fact, he knew she was far more dangerous than ever before. Luckily, he had a good idea how to handle the issue thanks to those reports: remove the root of the problem.

The Rear Admiral turned around, running back to Main Street and he noticed that the chaos already started to spread. The menacing black clouds billowed high into the sky, the crowds stopping to stare at the strange sight. Civilians heard the commotion; the sounds of battles, the cries of pain. Rumors became wildfire, and panic accompanied facts when curiosity overcame the people.

His brows furrowed into a worried knot, then he quickly he pulled a den-den mushi from his pocket.

Purupurupuru—the sleepy blue and white snail purred—ca-jack. "Yes, Sir?"

"We lost Unit 2," he answered. "And Unit 4 and 6 are engaged in combat in the fifth alley of Juliet Lane and Dylan Street. Send reinforcements and barricade those streets to the civilians. We can't let them run into the middle of the battle."

"Yes, Sir. Anything else, Sir?"

"Find her. Make sure that Bones cannot, I repeat, cannot by any means reach the Heart Pirates. We'll lose our chance the moment she steps foot on the submarine."

"Understood, Sir. We will stay on the line waiting further orders, Sir."

"Good. Now…where did she go? So much mayhem, all for the sake of one little bella."

Doubloon's Main Street was swarmed with patrols of Marines, which helped him snuff her out from the crowds. Bones sneakily darted into a tiny secondhand shop on a street corner, barely avoiding a group of wary soldiers that marched down the main road with rifles in hand.

A sly smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as he held the den-den mushi up once more, whispering: "The corner of Kaden Street and Tanner Avenue," and within minutes, two dozen men waited for his signal in the shadowed alley cross from the corner store.

Then the Rear Admiral slowly approached the little store, the bell above the door chiming as he entered. The interior of the secondhand shop was narrow. The aisle shelves were cluttered with prepackaged junk food and stuffed to be brink with all types of cans, mainly beans. The placed reeked of nicotine, the wall behind the cashier's counter was covered with hundreds of different brands of cigarettes. The building was virtually empty; not a soul registered his presence save for the mage and cashier. Bones was tucked away in the back corner of the store, hiding in the shadows, and the cashier was behind the front counter. The short man glanced at him briefly, but then returned to his magazine; it was good that he changed into civilian clothes. The Rear Admiral slowly walked further into the store, waiting for all eyes to be off him before he made his next move. He listened in closely, hearing her whisper a tiny chant under her breath. Act natural, act natural, she muttered that over and over again as she shuffled through the aisles.

Then Bones retreated from the back corner, moving toward the front counter. She appeared calm as she gently whispered to the clerk, showing him a piece of wrinkled paper. The middle-aged man squinted his eyes to read what was scribbled on the page and then nodded, turning around to browse through his assorted arrangement of cigarettes boxes.

When they were both distracted, the Rear Admiral swiftly advanced, and he pinched the pressure point between her shoulder and neck.

She gasped, but instantly went limp and he caught her in his arms before she could hit the ground.

The clerk heard the noise and whipped around, his eyes opening wide at the sight. "O—Oi!" he shouted, glaring at the Rear Admiral. "What do you—?"

The Rear Admiral held up his hand and then waved two fingers forward and the Marines on standby stormed into the building instantly with their rifles at the ready.

The clerk's cheeks went pale and he raised his hands high over his head, gulping.

The Rear Admiral smirked at the clerk and placed a single finger to his lips before adjusting his hold on Bones, holding her more securely in his grasp, and then he turned on his heel to leave with his target and entourage in tow.

When he stepped out of the store, he immediately noticed that the black mass had vanished from the sky. The sounds of battle were replaced by the whispers of concern as more soldiers filtered into the alleyways while local authorities blocked the civilians from investigating the area. The crowd watched in bewilderment as the Rear Admiral strolled back to Fort Allison with Bones in his arms and an escort of a dozen Marines surrounding them like a protective shield, the people parting like the sea to make the journey through the city a swift one.

When the Rear Admiral returned to the warship, Abigail insulted him-as usual-about his tardiness and then began barking orders to the men and women on board, making them scramble to prepare the ship for departure. All the while, the Rear Admiral took Bones down to his sickbay, leaving her in the care of his nurses because he needed to make a few calls in his office. He didn't necessarily want to speak with either man, but the sooner he did, the better. Begrudgingly, he made the call to the Vice Admiral leading the MRD, and then the other to Officer Cobra of the World Government. Despite his feelings, both of his superiors were thrilled to hear that Manolia Ameria had been captured, and they gave him a fresh set of new orders.

Then he returned to the sickbay deep in the belly of his warship, seeing that the nurses had prepared his supplies, arranged his tools and strapped the mage to the surgical table in the middle of the large room. Beside the table was Abigail, his assistant tapping her foot impatiently.

The Rear Admiral stalked into the room, seizing a pair of latex gloves that were laid out on a metal trolley next to the surgical table. He pulled them over his hands, the rubber snapping against his wrists. His dark shadows loomed over Bones, his steely grey eyes observing her emotionless features, the mage in a deep sleep. Then curiously, he reached out and gently rubbed a strand of her ebony hair between his thumb and forefinger. The latex blocked the sensation of touch, but he could feel the silkiness just by looking at the shiny lock.

"Are you just going to continue to gawk or get to work?"

The Rear Admiral's steely gaze shifted to his assistant, the aggravated ginger standing on the other side of the surgical table.

Abigail folded her arms over her chest and rapped her fingers against her bicep. "We're on a schedule, you know?"

The Rear Admiral turned away from his assistant, looking toward one of the nurses that stood off to the side. "Please get the lights."

A young brunette yelped and clutched the clipboard in her hands to her chest, blushing furiously when the Rear Admiral spoke to her instead of one of the other four nurses. Then quick on her heels, she scurried to do what was asked. The sickbay flickered into a subtle darkness, the only source of light was a spotlight above the surgical table in the middle of the room. Bones was in the limelight, the mage restrained to the surgical table with thick leather straps.

"Bring me to your leader!"

The furious howl and bang of metal against the wall made the Rear Admiral snap his attention to the open doorway.

A flushed private stormed into the sickbay, hastily pushing a metal trolley that had a large birdcage upon it. The Marine saluted his confused superior, saying: "Sir! I couldn't take it anymore! Sir!"

"Vermin!"

The Rear Admiral stared down at the pair of tiny skeletons causing the commotion, or rather skeleton. The smaller skeleton of the pair was merely huddled in the corner of the locked birdcage, cradling a skull in its little arms.

"Sir!" The private shouted again. "Sorry, Sir!" and then he pivoted on his heel and marched out of the sickbay.

The noisy skeleton grabbed the thin bars of the birdcage with all four hands, shaking it violently. "Filthy Marine vermin!" He shrieked, rage burning in the crimson aura glowing within his eye sockets. "Release us from this prison! I command thee!"

The Rear Admiral huffed and looked away. "Miss Abigail," he spoke to his assistant. "Would you please handle them? I still need to finish the preparations."

The ginger glowered at him and then she directed the heated scowl toward the noisy skeleton. The ginger snatched up a nearby towel and then threw it over the cage.

The Rear Admiral glared at his assistant, annoyed.

"This is where you say: if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself," the ginger bluntly stated.

The Rear Admiral rolled his steely eyes in response.

The cage continued to shake violently, making the towel slip off to reveal the skeletons once more. "Ya'll better listen to me!" The noisy skeleton howled. "Or else he'll—" and he jabbed one of his bony fingers to the skull nestled in the arms of the smaller skeleton. "—come out and steal all of ya'll hearts!"

With a blank expression on the ginger's features, she waited for the skull to do something, yet it did nothing in silence.

"V—Vermin!"

"That isn't how it works," The Rear Admiral sighed. "A spirit can't be summoned from the vessel unless its master commands it to. …And said spirit will always be unsummoned if its master is rendered unconscious," and he turned to the motionless mage. He placed his hand on her bicep, pulling at the skin with his thumb and forefinger, then he positioned the tip of the syringe to the tense surface. "We're perfectly safe," and then he injected a sedative.

"H—Hey!" The noisy skeleton roared, rattling the cage even more as he grew more irritated. "Y—You have no idea what you're doing!"

"On the contrary, I know exactly what I am doing." The Rear Admiral corrected smoothly. "I am a Marine of the MRD, which means I am allowed to handle mages that can potentially become a threat. She is a pirate."

"Y—You're stupid!"

"Miss Abigail," the Rear Admiral sighed, turning to his assistant once more. "Please escort the familiars to the waiting room."

Abigail scoffed and roughly pushed the trolley out of the sickbay, the noisy familiar shrieking until the door slammed shut. Then, he was left in peace to do his work.

The Rear Admiral placed the pad of his fingertip between his teeth and tore the latex glove from his hand As he flexed his five digits, he knew it was time to begin the true procedure. He clenched his hand into a tight fist, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palm. Then he held out his free hand to the side. "Test tube, please," he calmly spoke the order to the nurses behind him.

He heard the young woman behind him scurrying to fulfill his demand, stumbling over each other until one of them shakily handed him the glass vial. He held the vial underneath his clamped fist, a dense violet liquid dripping from the wrinkles of his tense pinkie. Once the test tube was filled, he used it to prepare a new syringe. The dark liquid within the clear plastic glowed eerily, and then he turned back to the mage, injecting her arm again with the clean needle.

"There," the Rear Admiral purred in satisfaction as he removed the latex glove from his other hand. "That'll remove all altercations when she is conscious."

Then the clicks of steady heels behind him made him look over his shoulder and he saw that his assistant had returned, looking as annoyed as ever. "Hmph. Hope you can get that annoying familiar to shut up, too."

"If only I could I would, Miss Abigail…" the Rear Admiral sighed.

"Well," Abigail scoffed. "It'll be Officer Cobra's problem soon."

"…Yes." The Rear Admiral frowned. "I'll uphold the terms and conditions of the treaty, but soon it'll be his problem."

Abigail eyed him warily. "You don't sound confident."

The frown on his lips grew. "It's what I have to do…" he murmured, turning back to look at the cataleptic mage. "You," he addressed her silent form. "My bella donna," and he curled a lock of her ebony hair around his slender finger. "Are my ticket out of this hellhole."

As he said those words, the galleon shook violently and the sickbay was doused in a crimson light. Loud sirens wailed through the halls of the ship, harmonizing with bewildered cries that were terrified of fire.

"What the hell was that!?" Abigail roared.

The Rear Admiral looked up at the ceiling, watching a mist of dust flutter to the floor. Then from the corner of his eye, he saw his nurses leave in a panic, the women quickly gathering first-aid kits as they rushed out the door. "It could only be one thing, Miss Abigail." He declared boldly. "Did you actually think we would get off scotch-free?"

"I wish," Abigail scoffed.

The Rear Admiral chuckled. "If only it could be so easy."

"Just go do your job," Abigail rolled her eyes.

The Rear Admiral smirked, cracking his knuckles as he walked toward the open doorway. "Now that, Miss Abigail, is something I can easily do."

His heels pounded against the cobblestone street, beating in rhythm with his heart pushing against his ribcage. The port suddenly grew silent, almost void of all life save for the lapping waves crashing into the bay. Silence was almost always an ominous sign, especially as the surgeon headed straight toward Fort Allison's Harbor. The local ships that the base used were small compared to the three massive warships docked at the port. Law instantly recognized the figurehead nailed to the bow of the biggest warship that was docked there. It was an elegant blindfolded woman. The statue's long flowing dress was carved into the stone, perpetually in a state of motion. Her right hand was extended outward, holding a balance scale for the world to see, and in her left she held a long broadsword that had the inscription blind justice imprinted on the marble.

It was his symbol.

After years, this would be their first encounter. Coming face to face with him wasn't something the surgeon wanted. He had been running for eleven years, but it had to be done. Law had a feeling in his gut that the book on mages and the abduction were related. Whenever the World Government or Marines were involved, trouble soon followed.

Law skid to a halt and then stared up at the judgmental figurehead, a grimace on his lips. Despite his feelings, he went along with his plan. He needed to create an opening, so he showed no mercy.

"Room."

The blue transparent dome swallowed the three warships and the surgeon unsheathed his nodachi. He extended his hand, a collection of barrels and crates following the movement of his arm and he pointed his middle and forefingers towards the hull. Crash. A plume of smoke engulfed the side of the hull and the bay rippled with waves when broken lumber and splinters crashed into the surface.

The howl of the startled Marines echoed through the night. The surgeon saw the foot soldiers gather around the gaping hole, the different levels of the warship completely exposed.

Law held his arms out wide. "C'mon fuckers!" He taunted boldly, purposefully painting his chest with a red target. Then a broad smirk crept on his lips. "Don't like the taste of your own medicine?"

"I hardly doubt this is the same type of medicine, Law."

Law winced at the familiar voice that pierced his eardrums, and his eyebrow began to twitch when he saw the mass of Marines part like the sea to make way for their superior.

The lovely Rear Admiral and there was only one way to greet him.

"Asshole."

But with his appearance, Law knew that his plan had worked.

The surgeon's deduction was indeed correct, for Shachi, Penguin and Bepo had all sneaked onto the warship while the Marines were focused on their captain's distraction.

"You guys sure Captain will be okay?" Bepo nervously asked as he sprinted down the vacant hallway deep within enemy territory.

"Hell yeah!" Shachi hollered over his shoulder. "He's a master of distraction after all!"

"You should know this by now, Bepo." Penguin grinned.

"I—I know," the bear glanced downward, slowing his pace as he mumbled: "But I can't help but worry still…"

"Don't lag behind, you stupid bear!"

"S—Sorry!" Bepo became flushed and quickened his pace to catch up to the two head mechanics.

The trio dashed through the warship, kicking open doors to inspect every room they came across. The pirates weren't worried about stealth since they knew the Marines were preoccupied with their captain outside and the damages to the warship. The sounds of war was more than enough to prove that.

"Hey!" Shachi then skidded to a halt. "Did you hear that?"

The trio listened carefully, tuning out the sounds of distant explosions and they heard a constant banging sound, like a metal pipe was hitting a sheet of iron. Then there was a loud and prolonged shriek that ricocheted off the walls.

"I—It's Tanker!"

They rushed towards the sound of screaming, the polar bear kicking open a set of double doors that led into the warship's sickbay. The stench of antiseptic was overwhelming, the polar bear's eyes tearing up because of his heightened senses.

"You're late!"

The trio looked to the center of the room and saw a surgical table that Ameria laid on top of, restrained with thick leather straps. Then beside the table was a trolley that had her familiars trapped within a locked birdcage. Quickly, the trio ran into the room to help. Shachi hastily removed the restraints that pinned the bone mage and then Penguin carefully peeled Ameria away from the table. Bepo tried to unlock the birdcage, but the noisy familiar didn't make it easy.

Tanker held the bars of his prison, shaking it wildly so the polar bear became flustered when he couldn't even examine the lock. Then the familiar screamed: "She's been drugged! Drugged!"

Penguin froze as he carefully put the bone mage on his back. "Does that mean…?" and he slowly glanced towards the ginger.

A bead of sweat trickled down the Shachi's cheek when he heard the news and he hissed: "Shit, what're we gonna tell Captain?"

Shachi did have a fine question to ask, but that would be a question to answer later. Law had other things to worry about at the moment, for he was caught in a grueling fight. The lowly Marines around him yelped in fear and scurried away like headless chickens to avoid the chaos. Crates and barrels crashed into the port like meteors because the Supernova and Rear Admiral were locked in heated combat.

Clink.

With grace, the two powerhouses leapt back and forth so their blades continued to clash over and over again.

Clink-clink-clink.

Sssssssssh!

Sparks flew as the razor sharp edges ground together with immense strength.

The ornate dagger held by the Rear Admiral was covered in a layer of hardened black Haki armor that crept up his hand and arm.

Jumping away, Law separated his nodachi from the Rear Admiral's blade and the balls of his feet skid against the cobblestone. Law growled, grinding his teeth together until his jaw went numb.

There was a smug smirk on the Rear Admiral's lips as he stood calmly on the other side of the port. He placed one hand on his hip, hooking his thumb into the thick leather belt that was occupied by nine other decorative blades that matched the one in his grasp. "What, Law?" The Rear Admiral mused, twirling the elegant shiv between his fingers. "Is that really any way to greet me after all these years? Show a little respect."

Law hated looking at him, He hated how it felt like he was looking at his doppelgänger.

It had always been that way. Even though they were born two years apart, Law always felt like he was looking into a mirror when they were face to face. Like how they rolled up their sleeves in the same fashion to expose their tan skin, just as their father always did. The same messy ebony hair that made them look like they just rolled out of bed. The same steely grey eyes that could gleam with intense amusement or be as cold as ice. However, the reflection he saw as a child was cracked. The different paths they took in life showed how different they grew up. The tattoos that covered his body, showcasing the pride he had as a pirate, and the dark black bags beneath his eyes that showed the sleepless nights he suffered over the years.

Law glanced away, his eyes closed and his sweat-drenched brow twitched violently. Then he inhaled and exhaled sharply before reopening his eyes. "Justice! If there is anyone you should have captured, it should be me! Finish what you started all those years ago! Just let her go!"

"This has nothing to do with you anymore," Justice closed his eyes with a sigh and he ruffled his tufts of messy ebony locks. "I can't let her go."

"You—" Law's brows furrowed in rage. "Asshole! She's done nothing to warrant her capture! Just give her back!"

Confused, Justice scratched the sideburn along his jaw. "She's a pirate…"

"Compared to me, dimwit!" Law snapped. "What's your game, huh? What do the Marines want with a mage!?"

A dark frown carved its way onto Justice's lips. "Classified," was his blunt response.

"Tell me!" Law bellowed.

Justice cocked his head to the side, closing his eyes. "I need her," he answered with a sigh. Then the Rear Admiral glared at the surgeon. "I need her more than you."

Law's eyes went wide, the rage inside him exploding. His grip tightened around the hilt of his nodachi, and he charged Justice once more.

Clink-clink-clink.

The steel of their blades clashed, sparks crackling wildly. The blackness of the Rear Admiral's Haki consumed the dagger and the arm that held it, and Justice was able to parry every advance from the surgeon with ease.

Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink.

"You need her more than me?" Law snarled. "Bullshit!"

"You don't understand, Law." Justice calmly replied, despite the pressure of the surgeon's blade against his own.

"You're right, I don't!" Law pushed against the dagger, the steel grinding together. "And I don't give a damn!" The surgeon countered, putting all his strength into the weight of his blade. "She's a member of my crew! I will protect her!"

"Captain!"

When Law heard the voice of his first-mate he broke free from his rage induced trance and then leapt away from the collision of blades. He took a second to breathe. There was no point getting worked up anymore; his job was done.

"Room," he growled. "Shambles," and then he disappeared from sight.

Justice stared at the plume of dust that replaced the surgeon's figure. "What does she mean to you, Law…?" he mumbled with a grim frown. Then he smoothly sheathed his daggers, the black cloak of Haki vanishing from his skin. "Is it…that, I wonder?"

Alicia hooked her hands behind her back, the fingertips of her left hand rapping against the wrist of her right. Leaning forward, the author's aqua eyes scanned the motionless bone mage lying on one of the cots in the submarine's sickbay. She hummed in thought and then she tenderly touched the small circular puncture wound on the bone mage's arm. "The Marines are known for applying powerful tranquilizers on problematic enemies, especially those that cannot be contained with Seastone Chains. Madame Bones shall, most likely, be out cold for a few more hours depending on the dosage the Rear Admiral used."

For the far corner of the room, Law stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a dark shadow covered the angry scowl on his face. The surgeon had been deadly silent since they returned back to Flevance and left Doubloon as quickly as possible. The crew knew his past with the Rear Admiral, so the pirates did not find this behavior abnormal and left him be. Alicia the Tulip, however, didn't know the connection and found his rage to be rather strange.

A small frown appeared on the author's ruby lips. "She shall be fine with rest, Doctor Trafalgar."

The surgeon's demeanor never changed; if anything, it became darker.

"M—Miss Alicia," Brodie intervened, a bead of sweat on his brow as he held up his hands defensively. "I—It's not that. You see—"

"She was poisoned." The venom dripped from the words the surgeon spoke. "No amount of rest will help her, Miss Alicia."

"Poisoned?" Alicia blinked, baffled. "I know the Marines can be ruthless toward their foes, but I truly believe that they would never—"

"Have you ever heard of Poison Control?" Law cut off the author, a grim expression on his features.

"From the Marines? In passing, yes." Alicia nodded slowly. "He ate the Aya-Aya Devil Fruit, which gave him a rather intriguing power from what I heard. His pores can produce a bodily serum—a potent poison—and when his enemies are infected, it allows him to manipulate them to his will, just like a marionette—wait," she paused, her eyes growing wide. "Are you implying that the Marine who kidnapped Madame Bones was Poison Control?"

"Yes," Law was short.

"Are you sure, Doctor Trafalgar?" Alicia glared worriedly at the surgeon. "The rumors about what happens when he infects someone via the bloodstream—"

"Are nasty, I know." Law snapped, glaring sourly back at the author. "There is no doubt in my mind that it's Poison Control because…" then the surgeon quickly looked away, closing his eyes with an exasperated look. "He's my older brother."

Alicia's jaw dropped. The author was rendered speechless for one of the first times since she boarded the submarine. On a good day, the surgeon would have considered this a petty win because of how the author could crawl under his skin and pick at his bones, but the situation was too grave for such childish jokes.

"I'm certain he used his powers on her. He knows exactly where she is. He could be at our doorstep tomorrow night, or maybe he wants to see us squirm." Then Law glanced at the bone mage, frowning grimly. "I don't know what he has planned, but the moment he gets back into range, he could make her turn on us."

"So, we have to be extra careful from now on," Brodie replied solemnly. "I will take a blood sample and monitor it. I'll also inform the rest of the guys to be on guard. I can also ask Nigel to keep a close eye on her. If we knock her out when it happens, then Justice can't make her his puppet."

Alicia remained silent. There was a stone-cold look in her eyes as she scowled at the pair. Then with a bitter scoff, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. She appeared upset with how the two treated the situation, but she also couldn't deny the facts. That caused a guilty look to overcome Brodie's features as he shuffled out of the room to warn the rest of the crew. Then it was only Law and his unconscious bone mage left in the sickbay, and the surgeon let out a heavy sigh as he plopped down in the seat at his desk.

"I'm that much of a liability now, aren't I?"

Law's head snapped up, watching in horror as the bone mage slowly rose from the bed. "Ameria?" He stared at her, his eyes wide. Then he frowned, his brows furrowing in concern. "How… How much did you hear?"

"Enough," Ameria whispered as she got off the cot and hobbled over to the desk, sitting down on the stool beside him. She was quiet for a moment, her head hanging low as she anxiously fiddled with the hem of her jacket. "I really am cursed. I have rotten luck, and now I'm infected with puppet poison. Why…Why am I even here?"

"Because you have a mission to complete," Law replied.

Ameria grimaced. "At this point, I don't even think I'm strong enough to complete it," then she looked down at her hands, staring at her open palms. "I felt so strong before when I was with Luffy, Robin, and everyone else, but now…"

"There is a reason that side of the Grand Line is called Paradise, Ameria." Law countered. "Everyone, everything, every place will be stronger in the New World."

Ameria eyed him skeptically, unconvinced that his reasoning supported her issues.

"If you feel weaker, then train harder," Law sighed. "You can always improve your strength and skills. You just need to take it seriously. I hope this is a wakeup call."

"I thought I was getting better, but I got cocky. I really thought I could handle that fight. This isn't the first time I fought a bunch of Marines before…"

"That wasn't really your fault, you know?" Law still tried to cheer her up, wrapping an arm around her and he squeezed her shoulder with comfort. "I mean, I couldn't even beat Justice—and that's saying something. You were also right. I shouldn't have let you go on your own, especially after being stalked for an entire day by the Marines. I should have gone with you, but even if I knew he was there, I never thought he'd go after you…"

"It's because he's in the MRD, the Mage 'Recruiting' Division," Ameria explained, air-quoting the stressed word bitterly. "It was the thing I tried to warn you about, but at that point, I guess it was too late and didn't matter. It's not like you knew your brother was even in the division."

"Recruiting?" Law repeated slowly. Then he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "More like kidnapping."

"Hence the sarcasm," Ameria smirked wryly. "The 'R' used to stand for Relay, but ever since the new Vice Admiral took charge of the division, it's been really…messy." Then she frowned, rubbing her arm sheepishly as she glanced away. "Sorry, I probably made things messier for you, too. The last person you probably want chasing us is your brother. It sounds like, well…you two probably don't get along anymore."

Law pursed his lips in thought. "…I've been running from him for years now. I'm used to it, but I need to face him properly one day."

"But don't you hate him?"

"As a kid, yeah, I did. I hated him so much. I was scared of him, and I never wanted to forgive him," Law admitted. "But I've seen more of the world now as I've grown older. Not everything looks as simple as it did when I was a kid. It's just…those residual feelings as a child that cause those knee-jerking-habits to run. This was the first time I've faced him in over ten years." Then he looked over at her, smirking coyly. "Maybe with you I can finally learn the truth, or confirm the facts, of my past. Thanks, Ameria."

Ameria stared at him in complete amazement. Her blue eyes were wide and her mouth was gaping open. Then suddenly a pained expression overwhelmed the shock, and she frowned, her brows furrowing in deep thought. She bit her lip and then limply rested her head against his chest, which made Law blink and hold up his hands, his turn to stare at her in amazement.

"Do you mind?" She mumbled softly. "I just…need to think."

"I don't mind at all," Law smiled lightly, his arm once again snaking around her shoulders to pull her close. "Thinking alone is dangerous, after all."

"Thank you," was her very quiet response as she closed her eyes and thought.

Achy moans echoed through the misty morning air. Marines wrapped in bandages were laid out in long rows across the large deck. The nurses scurried back and forth quickly to care for the wounded while Justice oversaw the treatments, thankful that most of his men only had minor burns. However, there were a few that had some broken bones.

The Rear Admiral crouched down beside a young Marine with a badly bruised arm, the poor boy cradling his numb limb to his chest. Justice inspected the young man's injury and saw to the treatment himself. It was a small fracture in the radial shaft, which meant the boy needed a cast. Calling to one of his nurses, Justice was given the necessary tools to cast the injury.

While the Rear Admiral handled the wounded, Abigail oversaw the damages. The Surgeon of Death had caused more damage to the ships than to the Marines themselves. The ginger, angrily, spoke with the small fleet's three captains to assess the damages the warships suffered. It would take three to four days to recover, which gave the Heart Pirates a decent head start. An outcome no one wanted.

Purupurupuru.

Abigail pulled a miniature den-den mushi from between her breast, the very tiny snail groggily purring. When she answered the call, she looked instantly irritated. The muffled tone on the other side made her scoff before she hung up quickly and then she walked over to Justice.

"They're coming tonight," Abigail grumbled.

As Justice dusted off his hands, he looked up at his assistant with a confused look in his eyes. "Who?"

"Officer Cobra and his cronies." Abigail replied bluntly. "They will be here in a few minutes. Cobra said he needed to check in with an iron shipment at Fort Allison before they'd come over for a report on the situation." Then the ginger crossed her arms over her chest, scowling bitterly. "The pricks."

Justice rolled his eyes, equally as irritated as his assistant. With a heavy sigh, he stood up from his crouch on the floor, and he dusted off his knees. The Rear Admiral gave a few orders to his nurses and the women continued to care for the injured. Then he briefly stopped by his three captains, telling them to begin repairs as soon as possible. When all his men were given a job and they started working, Justice and Abigail went down to the docks. The pair waited in silence for the government officials to arrive.

In just a few minutes, three men clad in slick black suits stalked down the wooden dock.

Officer Cobra led the tiny pack. The tall man walked with a small limp in his step, using an ornate black cane to support his weight. The morning light reflected off the shiny gold ring on his hand as he lifted it to adjust the large black velvet cowboy hat atop his head. Officer Needles was on Cobra's left, the young man walking with a slight hunch as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, and an eerie sneer crept onto his lips as he eyed Abigail, which made the ginger send a deadly glare his way. Then there was Officer Viper to Cobra's right, the lanky man glowering at the Rear Admiral. He looked extremely upset; his narrow face was flushed red with anger.

"You lost her," Officer Viper was the first to speak, growling his sharp words in livid disappointment. "How can you be so incompetent?"

"Incompetent?" Justice repeated slowly, scowling at Officer Viper. "You are well aware that I was given a fleet with little to no knowledge about mages. My men have no idea what they're doing when they fight one because they can't handle the unpredictable nature like a trained member of the MRD. So, if anyone is incompetent, it is you for failing to give me the proper tools and men needed for the task I was given."

Officer Viper's red face turned three times darker as steam whistled from his ears. "Why you little—!"

Justice held his ground, holding his head high. "It's the truth."

Officer Needles cackled wildly, grinning in amusement as he jeered: "You got some big balls, Traffy."

"Enough," Officer Cobra finally spoke, rapping the butt of his cane against the wooden pier. The tall man glanced from side to side, sending his subordinates warning glares with his sharp reptilian eyes. Then he looked back at the Rear Admiral, a blank look on his face. "She may have gotten away, but you did use your powers on her, correct?"

"Of course," Justice nodded. "I wouldn't have forgotten such an important detail."

"Then, there's no need for us to worry." Officer Cobra smiled cheerfully. "Even though your men were not well-equipped like the MRD, they were able to handle the situation. With that in mind, I believe you earned yourself some upgrades. Head to HQ when the repairs on your ships are complete and make sure your men are properly prepared for the next time you have to face her or any mage in the future. There should be no rush since you can track her down easily. You know her location right now, correct?"

"Yes," Justice was short.

"Then I will send word to the Vice Admiral that you are heading to HQ," Officer Cobra added.

Justice frowned and he inwardly flinched when his superior was mentioned. "You…You don't have to do that."

"But I insist," Officer Cobra countered, grinning coyly. "I'm sure he would rather hear the report from you rather than an old geezer like me, haha."

"I can give him a call," Justice tried to wave aside the idea. "It would be easier to do that rather than doing it in person."

"You know the Vice Admiral loves to hear from you in person, correct?" Officer Cobra frowned. "I wouldn't want to deny him that joy."

Justice was silent.

Officer Cobra didn't seem fazed by the silent treatment and merely grinned. "Then we'll be off," he concluded. "We have a meeting to attend to soon. One of your fellow MRD Rear Admirals seems to have picked up on another mage that is well worth our time. In anycase, we shall see you when you finally catch Bones."

Justice watch the three government officials leave, a grim look carved onto his features. His stomach hurt because of the vile feeling of disgust rising up his throat.

To be continued on Ao3...

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