No one.

Must have knocked my brains a little loose with that hit as there was no one for me to instantly recognize.

I hadn’t even gotten a good look at who’d run into me, they were already halfway down the street. It was a flash of red and blue with black hair, a figure bouncing with an almost unnatural elasticity. “Hey!” I shouted, more out of reflex than any real expectation they’d hear me. They didn’t. They just kept going. I rubbed my backside, grumbling.

“Some people…” I muttered. Then, a slow realization dawned. The straw hat… the bouncing gait… it couldn’t be. I cast my mind back to that brief, chaotic encounter aboard Alvida’s ship, the kid with the stretchy limbs, the one Koby had been tagging along with. The rubber idiot. “That was… ‘Straw Hat’ Luffy,” I said aloud, the name tasting like ash in my mouth.

Both Alvida and Buggy had a serious bone to pick with that guy.

I scurried back to the hotel, found Cabaji at the desk, and spilled the beans: the Straw Hat was in town. Cabaji, ever the dutiful subordinate, immediately relayed this intel to Buggy through his creepy detached ear just sitting on the counter.

It wasn't long before Buggy rushed into the lobby, practically vibrating with anticipation, demanding to know the exact location of his stretchy nemesis. I explained how the Straw Hat had zipped past the Marine Headquarters at an incredible pace, heading… well, somewhere. The specifics were, shall we say, a bit hazy. Buggy, naturally, interpreted this convenient vagueness as divine intervention. The perfect setup for a dramatic, theatrical execution on the very same scaffold where Gold Roger met his end. The ultimate, most flashy ****, he declared, practically salivating at the prospect.

Buggy then began issuing orders like a deranged conductor leading a chaotic orchestra. Cabaji was tasked with rounding up the crew –Buggy's big-top collection of oddballs and misfits – for a grand performance in the town square.

Strict instructions were laid down: no action until Buggy himself gave the cue. Mohji, poor sap, drew the short straw: he and Richie were to head to the harbor and give the Straw Hats’ ship a fiery send-off. A “flashy” backup plan, Buggy called it.

As if arson needed extra flair. I, of course, inquired about my role in this grand production. Buggy, however, fixed me with a look that could curdle milk. Seems he hadn’t forgotten our little “arrangement.” The one where I conveniently inherit the captaincy should his latest scheme go south. He wasn’t about to risk me… accidentally interfering. As if I would. Honestly. So, I was relegated to the sidelines. A real shame, if you ask me.

With my talents deemed… unsuitable for the main event, I decided to retrieve my sword.

So, I departed the hotel, sauntering through the streets of Loguetown. The populace, in their blissful ignorance, carried on with their mundane routines, completely oblivious to the impending pandemonium.

My route to the arms shop took me along the Loguetown boardwalk.

As I neared Robecca Hanberg's, a boutique with swinging saloon doors, an excitable voice drifted out onto the street. “Incredible! A vision! Such… assets!” I paused, intrigued by the sheer enthusiasm. The voice belonged to the shopkeeper, a man with the bizarre distinction of having hair styled into the precise shape of a wire coat hanger. Pushing through the doors, I discovered the object of his admiration.

She posed before a mirror, an image of extravagant beauty. A pristine white corset, crisscrossed with black ties, clung to her figure, dramatically accentuating the ample curves of her bust. A plush white fur cloak rested on her shoulders, complemented by a light purple, fur-trimmed skirt that traced the elegant line of her hips and legs. The effect was… captivating.

The shopkeeper continued his breathless commentary on her physical attributes. I immediately recognized her.

This was Nami, the Straw Hat’s navigator, the one who had stole their ship and led them on a merry chase to Arlong Park.

A slow, calculating smile spread across my face.