Arming Tsujo

Vowing never again to be caught off guard and defenseless, I resolved to reclaim my sword from the Arms Shop. A proper weapon might have drastically altered my encounter with Nami. As I traversed Loguetown, retracing my steps towards the shop, my gaze remained vigilant, scanning the crowds for any trace of the orange-haired thief.

My errand proved doubly fruitful: not only did I retrieve my cutlass, but I also learned that Roronoa Zoro, that notorious three-sword-wielding maniac, had patronized the same establishment. The notion of him adding more blades to his arsenal struck me as ludicrous. Three swords? The man only had two hands! It seemed a pointless extravagance, a flamboyant display of… well, Straw Hat-ness.

“So he was a criminal, eh?” Matsu questioned. “I didn’t know he was a criminal at the time. And that’s what I’ll tell the Marines if they come poking their noses around and ask where he got his new swords. Roronoa Zoro may be a criminal, but from what I saw – he’s one of the last true swordsmen left in this world! I’m glad I gave him those swords. They never would’ve done anything sitting in this shop gathering dust. He’s gonna make those blades more famous than I could ever hope for!”

This dude who seemed like a covetous prick seemed… weirdly romantic when it came to swords. It was a strange contradiction, this hard-nosed merchant with a soft spot for legendary blades and the warriors who wielded them.

These Straw Hats sure had a way of influencing people.

I thought back to how Luffy had inspired Koby to finally tell off Alvida, that once blubbery seacow and now a smooth skinned, giant busted, bountiful-bottomed, long-legged beauty that I adored.

I remembered how grateful that old mayor was that the Straw Hats had saved his town from Buggy, the clown with detachable limbs and an ego the size of a small island.

I recalled how the Head Chef at the Baratie, that floating restaurant, had spoken about Luffy almost fondly and had insisted that his Sous Chef, Sanji, wouldn’t leave for just any pirate – and yet he had!

And then there was Makino… sweet, innocent Makino, the barmaid whose tight pussy I had thoroughly rearranged. The memory sent a pleasurable shiver down my spine.

These Straw Hats… they had a way of making themselves seem like harmless heroes, charming communities and individuals into forgetting they were, in fact, dastardly pirates. They inspired loyalty, gratitude, and a ridiculous amount of goodwill for criminals. Everywhere they went, they left behind people singing their praises, overlooking the fact that they were thieves, outlaws, and troublemakers. It wasn’t just brute strength or cunning that made them dangerous—it was this influence, this pull they had on people.

I gripped my cutlass tighter as I walked. That kind of sway over the hearts and minds of others was more dangerous than any Devil Fruit. Nami had it in spades. She wasn’t just some sneaky pickpocket; she had a reputation. The kind that let her weasel her way into people’s trust, the kind that let her walk into a store, flash a smile, and walk out with whatever she wanted. Even when people knew she was a thief, they still liked her. Still trusted her.

I clenched my teeth.

That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.

I wouldn’t let it happen again.

This time, I’d be ready. I had my power. I had my sword. And when I found Nami again, she wouldn’t be slipping through my fingers. Not this time.