Van Augur stood alone in the middle of the narrow road. Mud pooled on either side of the cramped path, making any movement tricky. Vivi and Mr. 9 had no way around him, resulting in a tense standoff.
Vivi placed her right hand lightly on the scabbard at her waist, shifting her center of gravity lower. It was a sword-drawing posture she had learned from a wandering swordsman of the West Blue. The man hadn't been a true master, and her understanding of iaido was still rudimentary, but it was enough for an opening move.
She settled into her stance and stared intently at Van Augur's hands. The moment he made a move, she would draw and strike!
Silence stretched between them. Only Mr. 9 disturbed the stillness, awkwardly brandishing his iron bat while performing exaggerated backflips and somersaults. His "huhuhahe" noises broke the tension, mismatching the otherwise deadly seriousness of the moment, like a clown stumbling onto a stage before a duel.
"…Weird, really weird…" Van Augur spoke lazily, his voice floating in the air.
Vivi, maintaining her sword-drawing stance, casually asked, "What's weird?"
"…Hard to say. My old friend here," he tapped his long rifle gently, "doesn't seem to want to kill you."
Vivi replied calmly, "The distance between us is too close. Your sniping won't work here. I can slice off your arm before you raise that rifle." She added flatly, "Maybe your gun senses that too. Maybe it likes me."
Van Augur scratched the side of his head with a bemused look. "Oh? That's fate, huh? So interesting."
He didn't advance to challenge Vivi further. Instead, he slung the long rifle onto his back, adjusted his velvet-lined cloak, and, with a light flick, turned away, walking farther and farther down the narrow road.
"Hey! Weren't you going to duel Mr. 9?" Vivi called after him.
"Hmph. Just took one glance." Van Augur's voice drifted back. "That guy doesn't have the will to fight. A man without that is no gunman... not worthy of wielding a gun."
His figure receded into the distance. Vivi quietly exhaled in relief. It was better not to fight — the thin line between life and death was too uncomfortable. She hated facing snipers; they were deadly before a swordsman could even move.
"Chase after him! If he gets distance on us, we're finished!" Mr. 9 shouted, already sprinting after the sharpshooter.
Vivi didn't try to stop him. She watched as Mr. 9 launched into a flamboyant succession of backflips and somersaults, looking like a giant monkey on a sugar rush as he tumbled down the street.
"No wonder he was picked for the Baroque Works atmosphere team..." Vivi muttered, shaking her head. Watching him backflip eighty times in a row was enough to make anyone dizzy.
Van Augur, with his long legs and effortless strides, didn't even break into a run but quickly disappeared from Vivi's sight. Mr. 9, frantically flipping and scrambling, chased him as best he could.
Vivi waited for a few minutes. When neither returned, she decided she couldn't sit idle.
Despite sensing that Van Augur had released his killing intent — that he no longer bore hostility — she knew humans could be fickle. Danger could return without warning. Mr. 9 might be ridiculous, but he was her partner. She couldn't let him be gunned down!
She sprinted after them but quickly realized a serious problem: she was lost.
Hands on her hips, she looked left at a crumbling three-story building, then right at a battered fountain surrounded by a cracked flower bed. She had definitely passed this way before.
Loguetown was massive — far larger than her hometown of Whisky Peak. As the final stop before the Grand Line, it bustled like a small metropolis. The overcrowded streets, the jumble of illegally constructed houses, and the sea of indistinguishable shops made navigation a nightmare. Passersby dressed similarly, buildings lacked distinct markers, and there were no clear street signs. After running in circles for half an hour, Vivi felt completely disoriented.
Her "listen to everything" ability, her semi-awakened Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation Haki), gave her random prompts — sometimes correct, sometimes misleading. Sometimes she sensed the right direction but doubted herself and ran the wrong way. Other times, false cues lured her off course. Confused and frustrated, she realized that even Baroque Works agents couldn't easily find their way around Loguetown's maze of streets.
"Go forward…"
"Keep running…"
"You're beautiful, miss…"
"Hungry… so hungry…"
The murmur of countless voices entered her mind like a chaotic chorus. Filtering them out as best she could, she chose not to second-guess her instincts this time.
As she sprinted onward, her vision suddenly cleared — she broke free from the endless alleyways. Before her stretched a broad open plaza, and in the center stood a wooden execution platform towering more than ten meters high.
It was the most famous landmark in Loguetown: the execution platform of Gol D. Roger, the King of the Pirates.
"Want my treasure? I left it all in one place! Go and find it!"
"Want my treasure? I left it all in one place! Go and find it!"
"Want my treasure? I left it all in one place! Go and find it!"
The booming voice of a man echoed over and over in her mind, each word vibrating through her skull.
At first, Vivi instinctively wanted to mock it — "Come on, Roger, that's so cheesy. Do your crewmates even know how dramatic you sounded?" She even thought of teasing with names like Wang Luffy or Kaiduo.
But the echo grew stronger, heavier, shaking her thoughts until sarcasm was impossible. It felt like a giant hand was prying open her mind, forcing the words inside.
"Stop…"
"Stop…"
"STOP IT!"
She covered her ears reflexively, but the voice wasn't heard by her ears — it thundered directly into her consciousness.
The execution platform's rotting planks, the rusting nails, the stones in the plaza, even the trees nearby — every object seemed to chant Roger's words loudly and clearly.
Vivi gritted her teeth, clutching the hilt of her sword tightly, using the cold metal to anchor herself and regain a sliver of focus.
There were few people in the plaza at this hour. But in a strange trance, she seemed to see a crowd: men, women, children, kings, soldiers, adventurers, revolutionaries — a chaotic sea of humanity.
She realized her perception — her growing Haki — was resonating with the memory of twenty years ago. With the spirit of Loguetown itself.
She "saw" the scene of Roger's final moments, not with her eyes, but with her heart.
And at the same time, Gol D. Roger, seated proudly on the execution platform, "saw" her — a future stranger from a future era.
Vivi knew she didn't belong there — she hadn't been born yet — but the images grew sharper and sharper, forcing her to experience it as if she had been standing there that fateful day.