Chapter 123: Assembly of Elite Operatives

Off the coast of Alabasta, an inconspicuous sea vessel drifted quietly. The modest-sized ship bore no flag, and no sailor was to be seen on its deck, giving it an air of mystery as it floated silently on the open water.

This was no ordinary ship—it served as the clandestine meeting place for the senior operatives of a secret organization.

Among them gathered were the master of mimicry, Mr. 2 Bon Clay; Mr. 3 Galatino, wielder of the Wax-Wax Fruit; the sketch artist Miss Golden Week; the burly strongman Mr. 4, armed with a four-ton baseball bat; Miss Merry Christmas, empowered by the Mole-Mole Fruit; the explosive expert Mr. 5; and Miss Valentine, a light and airy fruit user.

Upon receiving the orders from their de facto vice president, Robin—known by the codename “.Sunday”—they swiftly assembled at this designated point.

The senior agents crowded into the ship’s cabin, filling the space to capacity. The habitual smoker Mr. 5 transformed the confined quarters into a haze of smoke with his incessant puffing.

“We’re all here, so where is Miss .Sunday?” grumbled Miss Merry Christmas—an elderly woman whose temper remained fiery despite her years. She fired off complaints without pause as if her words were rapid-fire bullets.

“And why on earth is this meeting taking place at sea? Most of us are Devil Fruit users; what if the ship sinks?”

Her nagging went unheeded, and with a scowl, she waved away the thick cloud of secondhand smoke before her.

“Mr. 5! If you keep smoking, I’ll throw you overboard!”

Mr. 5 paid no mind to the irritable old lady. He exhaled a perfect smoke ring and mused, “The orders say our mysterious boss will be here as well.”

“No one really knows who he is…”

A strange, excited laugh came from Bon Clay, his face painted with eerie white makeup.

“Wouldn’t it be great if he were a fellow okama like me!”

The group fell silent, some with a flicker of discomfort.

Only Miss Golden Week, quietly sipping her tea with a calm demeanor, voiced the thoughts of many.

“One eccentric specimen is enough—especially if that specimen is you.”

“Besides, about our boss’s identity…”

Mr. 3, sporting a peculiar hairstyle marked with the number “3,” spoke gravely.

“I’m curious about the reason behind this summons. It’s the first time all senior operatives have gathered like this, isn’t it?”

The operatives usually worked in pairs, each maintaining secrecy and operating independently, with little opportunity for collaboration.

“It must be a particularly thorny mission…”

The hefty Mr. 4 spoke slowly, “Like dealing with that knight Garen, the one who killed the legendary strongest Mr. 1 duo.”

The mention of Garen cast a pall over the group; serious expressions replaced their chatter.

These elite operatives, scattered across the world, had been called back to the Alabasta headquarters days ago by their enigmatic employer.

They all understood that this recall was about one adversary: a man named Garen.

“Garen, huh?” Miss Valentine, a stylish beauty with a cruel streak, laughed exaggeratedly.

“Ha! No need to worry too much. With so many Devil Fruit users among us, even someone capable of defeating the Mr. 1 duo would struggle to survive.”

Though beautiful, Miss Valentine was ruthless and brash, her words cutting like a blade.

As the operatives debated the nature of their mission and the true identity of their mysterious boss, a sound from outside the cabin finally stirred their attention.

The cabin door suddenly swung open, and Robin appeared before the gathered operatives.

“.Sunday?” grumbled Miss Merry Christmas impatiently. “Finally, you’ve arrived!”

“Where’s our boss? Where is he?”

Before Robin could respond, a stranger’s voice rang out from behind her.

“Here I am!”

Curiosity flashed across the operatives’ faces as they turned to look behind Robin.

She stepped aside, revealing a knight clad in armor, wielding a large sword.

“Garen?”

The operatives’ faces changed instantly.

They knew this man well—he was the number one enemy of the Baroque Works organization.

“.Sunday?” Mr. 3 was the first to question Robin. “He’s our boss? That can’t be!”

Robin met their doubtful gazes and steeled herself.

“There’s no doubt about it. He is truly our boss.”

“Impossible!” Mr. 3’s hands already crackled with wax candles, eyes wary as he confronted Robin.

“Everyone in the company knows this man killed the Mr. 1 duo!”

“And for days, the missions assigned have prepared us to face Garen and his group in battle.”

“He’s clearly our enemy—how could he be our leader?”

Mr. 3’s words echoed the sentiments of the group, who now expressed hostility and suspicion openly. Some even bluntly accused Robin.

“.Sunday, have you betrayed Baroque Works?”

Robin furrowed her brow, unable to answer directly. She glanced at Garen for support.

She anticipated these questions and doubts. When she learned of Garen’s plan to seize Baroque Works through her, she advised him to remain behind the scenes, controlling things quietly through her as vice president.

But apparently distrustful of her as a defector, Garen insisted on meeting the operatives in person and assured Robin that he had his own way of handling the situation.

Now, as expected, the operatives’ suspicions had surfaced. Robin could only silently hope for Garen’s secret solution.

Garen smiled calmly despite their hostile stares and stepped forward confidently.

“You’re not wrong,” he declared loudly.

“I am not your boss.”

“.Sunday is now one of mine!”

“What?!” The operatives were shocked, their bodies tensed instantly.

Robin’s eyes widened with surprise.

She had expected Garen to concoct a lie to trick the operatives into believing he was the unseen leader, thereby legitimizing his takeover from her hands.

Instead, Garen openly revealed his true identity right away.

“Could it be…” Robin thought, gazing at his serene expression.

“He intends to use me, the already defected vice president, as an example to coerce the operatives into surrender?”

It was a clever tactic.

The operatives had no idea who their real boss was; only Robin had direct authority.

Now with their leader switched sides, it wouldn’t be hard for them to follow suit.

The operatives suspected this but, as powerful figures themselves, they were not easily intimidated.

They remained guarded and hostile.

Bon Clay was quick to respond.

“.Sunday, betraying one’s master is not loyalty. I will never imitate your treachery!”

“Well said!” Garen applauded Bon Clay enthusiastically.

“I admire a loyal servant like you!”

“So…” Garen continued with a mischievous grin.

“Don’t think about surrendering just yet!”

“You…” Robin’s eyes widened with disbelief.

“Aren’t you here to recruit them?”

She couldn’t fathom why Garen would go to such lengths to summon the operatives without either manipulating from behind or openly recruiting.

Was he here just to provoke a fight?

Then, to Robin’s astonishment, Garen lifted his gleaming greatsword.

“I did call you here for a reason.”

“What is it?” Mr. 2 Bon Clay asked, the tension still thick.

Since Garen had deliberately chosen a solitary ship at sea as the meeting place, he was confident that this group—mostly Devil Fruit users—couldn’t easily escape.

Garen spoke with interest.

“I’ve recently made an enemy, someone even stronger than me.”

“Though I have some special techniques, it won’t be enough to kill him.”

“So…?” Bon Clay pressed.

“Do you want me to help you deal with him?” he asked eagerly.

“No, no,” Garen shook his head, gripping his sword tighter.

“What I mean is… I need more experience to level up.”