Chapter 21

The Gates of Justice loomed overhead, massive iron doors that separated the world of men from the world of monsters. As they slowly creaked open to admit Kurumi’s ship, the sight of Marineford revealed itself.

It was a crescent moon of steel and stone. One hundred thousand elite Marines stood in formation, a sea of white coats. Fifty battleships lined the bay. The tension in the air was so thick it tasted like ozone and blood.

"It’s… it’s too many people," Perona whispered, peeking out from behind Kurumi’s legs. She was clutching her Kumacy doll so hard its stuffing was popping out. "This isn't a battle… it’s a slaughterhouse."

"It is the center of the world, Perona," Kurumi said, adjusting her gloves. "And we have a reservation."

She turned to her shivering companion. "Stay on the ship. If the white-mustached man—Whitebeard—starts shaking the air, hold onto something solid. Do not engage unless I signal."

"You're leaving me?!" Perona shrieked.

"I have a meeting," Kurumi smiled, her red eye glowing. "With the monsters who think they own the sea."

The Round Table

The conference room inside the Marineford fortress was opulent, filled with food that would feed a kingdom, yet the atmosphere was suffocating.

Sitting around the massive table were the Seven Warlords of the Sea (Shichibukai)—or rather, the five who had bothered to show up.

* Dracule Mihawk, the World's Strongest Swordsman, sat silently, sipping wine with his golden hawk eyes closed.

* Bartholomew Kuma, the Tyrant, stood like a statue, clutching his Bible.

* Boa Hancock, the Pirate Empress, sat with her legs crossed, looking at the ceiling with utter disdain for the "filthy men" around her.

* Gecko Moria, heavily bandaged and stitched up from his defeat at Thriller Bark, was gorging on food, muttering angrily.

* Donquixote Doflamingo, the Heavenly Demon, sat on the table itself, grinning maniacally behind his red sunglasses.

The heavy oak doors creaked open.

"Excuse the intrusion," a melodic voice chimed.

Every head turned. Standing in the doorway was a petite woman in a Commander's coat, her black twin tails swaying. Her mismatched eyes—one red, one a golden clock—swept the room without a hint of fear.

"Who invited the little Marine?" Doflamingo laughed, his veins popping. "Fufufu! Did Sengoku send us a mascot?"

"Commander Kurumi," Mihawk opened one eye. "The one who defeated the giants at Enies Lobby."

"YOU!"

Gecko Moria slammed his fist onto the table, shattering a plate of roast beef. He stood up, towering over the room, his stitches straining.

"YOU WITCH! YOU STOLE MY GHOST PRINCESS!" Moria roared, spit flying. "I saw the report! 'Defected to Marine custody' my foot! You kidnapped Perona!"

Kurumi didn't flinch. She walked calmly into the room, the heels of her boots clicking on the marble floor.

"Kidnapped is such an ugly word, Moria-san," Kurumi curtsied mockingly. "I simply offered her a career path with better job security. Unlike you, I don't lose to rookies in the fog."

The room went silent. Even Hancock lowered her gaze from the ceiling to look at the audacious girl.

"Kishishishi…" Moria’s face turned purple. "I'll kill you! Right here! Shadows Asgard—"

"Sit down, onion," Doflamingo’s voice cut through the air.

Doflamingo raised a finger. Invisible strings—Parasite—shot out. Moria froze mid-attack, his body jerking unnaturally.

"Don't interrupt the entertainment, Moria," Doflamingo grinned, turning his head to Kurumi. "So, you're the one? The 'Clockwork Girl'? I heard rumors you move faster than Soru."

He hopped off the table, towering over her. He was massive, radiating an aura of chaos and violence.

"What do you want, little girl? An autograph? Or a death wish?"

Kurumi looked up at the Heavenly Demon. She knew everything about him. His bloodline. His underground trade as "Joker". His fear of Kaido.

"I want a conversation, Joker," she whispered the code name.

Doflamingo’s smile didn't falter, but the air around him grew heavy. His Haki flared. "That’s a dangerous name to speak in this building."

"I know many dangerous things," Kurumi said, stepping closer, invading his personal space. "I know about the SMILEs. I know about the Factory. I know why you really want this war to happen."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, ornate flintlock pistol—the one she had been using since the East Blue. She placed it on the table.

"But today, I am just a humble Marine who finds herself under-equipped for the apocalypse."

She looked Doflamingo in the eye.

"You control the underworld's arms trade. I need a weapon. A real one. Something that can handle… time."

Doflamingo stared at her for a long, tense moment. Then, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Fufufufu! HAHAHAHA! Interesting! Very interesting!"

He leaned down, his face inches from hers. "You're not a Marine. You're a pirate in a coat. I like that."

He reached into his feather coat and pulled out a pair of flintlocks. They were sleek, black, with silver filigree and barrels made of Sea Prism Stone alloy.

"Prototype muskets from the North Blue," Doflamingo said, tossing them to her. "They channel Haki better than standard issue. Consider it a loan. If you survive Whitebeard… come find me in the New World. We can talk about 'Joker'."

Kurumi caught the guns. They were heavy. Perfect.

"A pleasure doing business," she holstered them.

"Wait," Boa Hancock spoke up. Her voice was icy. "You… you are the one who was at Sabaody. Did you see… him?"

Kurumi turned to the Empress. She knew Hancock meant Luffy.

"He flew away," Kurumi said softly. "To an island of women. He is safe, Snake Princess. For now."

Hancock’s cheeks flushed pink, and she turned away, hiding a smile. "I see. Then I shall tolerate your presence."

The Alarm

Suddenly, the sirens began to wail. A sound that signaled the end of the world.

WOOOO-OOOO! WOOOO-OOOO!

"It’s time," Mihawk stood up, grabbing Yoru, his black blade.

"Whitebeard is here," Kuma stated robotically.

Doflamingo walked to the balcony, his coat fluttering. "The New Era is coming! And it's going to be written in blood! Fufufufu!"

Kurumi walked to the window. She looked out at the bay. The water was bubbling.

"Here comes the strongest man in the world," she whispered, her hands gripping her new guns.

The Moby Dick, Whitebeard’s flagship, burst from the underwater depths, coating the bay in foam and water.

Edward Newgate stood at the prow, his bisento in hand.

"GURARARARA! SENGOKU! MY SON IS IN YOUR HANDS!"

The air cracked.

Kurumi’s golden clock eye ticked forward.

The War of the Best has begun.