Smoker's navy-issued coat hung loosely from his shoulders, exposing defined chest muscles and abs, a thick cigar clamped between his teeth. His face was calm but sharp. "I saw King Cobra and you in Alabasta a year ago."
Vivi furrowed her brows, racking her inherited memories. Nothing stood out—most likely, it wasn't a formal meeting. A Marine captain, a king, and a princess wouldn't naturally converse. More likely, he had glimpsed her during a diplomatic mission from afar.
She didn't answer, silently acknowledging it.
Smoker exhaled smoke. "So why would the Crown Princess of Alabasta be lurking in the East Blue? Still sticking to your story about taking your pet duck here for dinner, Princess?"
Vivi hesitated. "Well, having dinner here with Karoo wasn't exactly a lie, but… it's not the real reason I'm in the East Blue."
She thought about mentioning the rabbit she was tracking—Kaguya—but even she knew how absurd that sounded to outsiders. Stranger than a dinner date with a pet duck.
She cleared her throat. "I heard of some of Duddy's feats, so I came to recruit him to Alabasta. Our kingdom maintains a standing force of 600,000 troops. The cost is enormous, so we're preparing military reforms—downsizing while maintaining elite combat capability."
Her story was factual and appropriate for her royal status.
Smoker remained unmoved. "And the Baroque Works, Miss Wednesday?"
Vivi's eyes flared. "You already know I'm Nefertari Vivi. You've clearly done your homework, dug up my alias, and even cross-referenced me. Yet you still demand an explanation? That's just annoying."
Smoker chuckled lightly. "I'm just trying to figure out what made the pampered princess of Alabasta change so much. Mind telling me?"
Vivi was momentarily silent. She inwardly cursed her predecessor's clumsy infiltration plan with Igaram—code name Mr. 8—for forcing her into this situation.
"I guess anyone would change if they discovered a conspiracy threatening their country."
Smoker's gaze sharpened. "Who's behind it?"
"Baroque Works. They've got something massive planned for Alabasta."
"Then who's the leader?"
"I don't know yet," she said truthfully. "Still investigating."
Their conversation was short—fleeting, like two acquaintances bumping into each other on the street exchanging a token "Had lunch?" "Yeah."
Smoker didn't press further. This wasn't within his jurisdiction. Alabasta was across the Grand Line, and he had more pressing priorities—namely, tracking down the Golden Lion and his followers. This royal drama wasn't his concern.
Neither mentioned Vivi's burst of Conqueror's Haki from earlier. She didn't know how to explain it. Smoker assumed his own interpretation—a princess abandoning luxury to hunt villains, honing her sword skills, driven by responsibility and justice.
Smoker's grasp of history was sharper than Tashigi's sword-obsessed mind. He knew the Nefertari family had ties with the World Government and Celestial Dragons—one of the only royal families who chose to remain in the world rather than live in Mary Geoise. The exact nature of the relationship? He didn't know, nor did he particularly care.
In a world obsessed with bloodlines thanks to the Celestial Dragons, Smoker personally disdained all that "lineage theory" nonsense. But as a Navy officer tasked with maintaining order, even he had to live under its influence.
Lineage mattered. The bloodline of the D clan mattered. It was woven into the global narrative.
And sometimes, that bloodline awakened.
He remembered an example: Donquixote Doflamingo, one of the Seven Warlords. Stripped of his Celestial Dragon status, his family fell from grace, and he was nearly killed by angry mobs. At just eight years old, he awakened Conqueror's Haki in sheer rage. Nothing else—just raw fury and bloodline instinct.
Vivi's case was similar. Under great pressure, something in her royal blood—maybe even tied to ancient lineage—stirred. Awakening her Haki at thirteen made sense.
After Smoker finally walked away, Vivi exhaled deeply and wiped the sweat from her brow. At least she managed to cover up her outburst of Haki.
"Quack?" Karoo waddled over, eyes wide with curiosity after overhearing the earlier talk about food.
"Eat, eat, eat! That's all you care about! Those cooks back there would love to roast you up!" Vivi snapped half-seriously. Karoo shivered dramatically, flapping his wings in panic. Watching the duck squirm helped Vivi recover from the tense interrogation with Smoker.
It wasn't that she lacked intelligence—Smoker's intellect was just unusually sharp. He had the upper hand thanks to superior intel. Who would've thought he'd recognize her on the spot? She made a mental note: next time, she'd come better prepared. She etched Smoker's name in her personal grudge list—payback would come.
After playing with Karoo to unwind, Vivi regrouped. The Navy's support ships had rescued their damaged vessels. Leaving Karoo behind to sip some milk, she hiked up a dirt hill on a nearby deserted island. It offered a wide view and, more importantly, was the spot where she expected to find someone.
Sure enough, there he was: the sniper Van Augur.
The man was calmly polishing his rifle as she approached, his hawk-like eyes distant.
"Van Augur," she called casually. "You always like standing up high. That quiet power of holding a life between your fingertips... poor or rich, it makes no difference. Doesn't that feel... intoxicating?"
Her tone was laced with ambition.
"You ever think of standing somewhere even higher, aiming at targets truly worthy of your shot?"
Her offer was blatant.
Van Augur glanced at her lazily. "Higher, huh? You mean Alabasta? I heard you have an army of 600,000."
Vivi raised an eyebrow. How did he hear that? He must've been eavesdropping during her talk with Smoker.
But if Blackbeard could recruit this man three years from now with nothing but pipe dreams and bravado, then surely she could beat him to it.
Her plan was simple: talk about dreams, dangle a vision, spin a compelling fantasy. It might sound like nonsense, but this world thrived on that kind of narrative.
"Since you already know who I am, I won't waste time. I can give you a grander platform, a clearer vantage point. This place—" she gestured around at the desolate East Blue—"is too small. It'll only hold you back."