Law POV:
It had been a frustrating few months for the Heart Pirates. After their last skirmish with the Forlong Pirates, their ship had taken significant damage. The repairs would take at least another month to complete, and that delay only added to Law's growing irritation.
They hadn't even set foot on the Grand Line yet, and already they were running into setbacks. These delays were only pushing Law further from his ultimate goal. The frustration gnawed at him. Every day stuck here was another day wasted.
He was going over their plans with his first mate, Bepo, when he heard a commotion coming from the docks. He didn't need to ask what it was about. The so-called "Tax Bandits" were probably harassing another newcomer. They were a predictable, idiotic bunch, preying on outsiders who had the misfortune of docking here. Either they will rob them, or if they don't have enough, then sell them to slave traders. Law couldn't help but cringe internally whenever he thought of them; their name alone was embarrassing enough.
But that was the norm on this island. Newcomers would get scammed, robbed, or killed if they weren't strong enough. It didn't bother Law. He wasn't heartless—just practical. Getting involved with the local trash wasn't worth the trouble.
But Bepo, of course, had a different mindset. The bear mink had a bleeding heart.
"Law, you hear that outside, right?" Bepo asked, his voice carrying a tinge of concern.
"Drop it, Bepo," Law said coldly, not even looking up. "It's none of our business."
"Come on, Law. Where's the compassion? What happened to the kid who saved me from bullies back then?"
Law sighed. "Seriously? You're playing that card again? You only get to use it once a year, and last time, we ended up saving a spy from the Forlong Pirates. You remember how that turned out."
At the mention of the Forlong Pirates, Bepo hesitated, but he wasn't done yet. "But what if this time it's different? Just help the poor guy out. We can even use him to clean the ship as payment."
That gave Law pause. Cleaning the ship was an absolute chore, one he particularly despised. And it was his turn next. A slight grimace tugged at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth checking out if it meant skipping cleaning duty. He wouldn't get involved in the fight. Just send him elsewhere. After a brief moment of thought, he gave in, signaling for Bepo to follow him as they headed out of the tavern.
'Let's hope the poor bastard hasn't gotten himself killed yet,' Law thought as they made their way to the docks.
But what he found was far from what he expected.
One of the five bandits was already down, his guts falling out, desperately trying to stop the bleeding and failing miserably. The others stood with weapons drawn, forming a semi-circle around their leader, 'Club' Morgan. Morgan sneered, his bulky figure towering over the others. And standing opposite them, completely unfazed, was the cause of today's mayhem—a teenage boy.
Law's sharp gaze scanned the newcomer. He looked about 15 or 16, standing roughly 1.7 meters tall, with a lean, toned build that suggested he was quick on his feet rather than relying on brute strength. His outfit was odd—a light green kimono that matched his sharp, vibrant eyes. A traditional katana was tucked into his obi, its handle worn but well-kept. He looked like one of those sword masters Law had heard of, the ones who spent years training in secluded dojos.
But something didn't add up. The boy's sword was still in its scabbard. So how had the bandit been injured? Had he sheathed his sword after the strike? Or had he used another weapon entirely? Law scanned the area—nothing else stood out.
Whatever the case, the kid had clearly handled himself well.
And Law couldn't help but be intrigued. It had been a long time since he'd seen a young fighter with this much promise. Strong. Calm. Dangerous.
'Show me what you're made of, kid,' Law thought; his interest piqued as he started watching the fight.