The Angel Alliance's "Yellow Sand" branch had set up a defensive formation in front of Alabasta's royal palace.
But...
"Did those pirates run away halfway? Why haven't they shown up yet?"
Bellere muttered to herself.
No sooner had she spoken than a group of people erged from the rooftops in the distance...
"I am Bellere, Branch Chief of 'Yellow Sand'! Who are you people?! Why are you attacking Alabasta's royal palace?!"
Bellere's loud challenge did nothing to halt the advance of these strangely dressed pirates.
Their attire was bizarre—decked out in the most stereotypical pirate garb from storybooks, yet also deliberately concealing most of their distinguishing features.
Even so, when Bellere caught sight of a few among them, an inexplicable sense of familiarity washed over her...
n and won, young and old—this motley crew, an oddity even among pirates, charged straight toward Bellere.
The special forces and Devil Fruit Users quickly took their stances and rushed forward.
But the outco was unexpected.
In just one clash, Bellere's subordinates were all knocked to the ground.
Upon closer inspection, they were rely unconscious, without a single visible wound.
This... was actually more unsettling.
Because it could only an these enemies were far stronger than Bellere's forces.
Just as Bellere drew her gun and Isca beside her unsheathed her sword, ready to charge to their deaths, the fox-scarf-wearing man at the front—who had yet to lift a finger—raised his hands.
The next mont, Conqueror's Haki swept across the battlefield.
Under the overwhelming pressure of this Haki, ordinary soldiers foad at the mouth and collapsed unconscious.
On the frontlines, only Bellere and Isca barely managed to stay conscious.
"Ahh, this is really awkward. I didn't expect our reunion to happen like this."
The fox-scarf man stepped forward, removing his eyepatch as he grinned at Bellere.
"It's been so many years, Bellere."
Bellere froze, about to speak—but then, overwheld by shock, her vision darkened, and she fainted.
Michael quickly caught her.
"Damn it! She could withstand Conqueror's Haki, but one look at my face and she passes out?! What the hell—is my face more terrifying than Conqueror's Haki?!"
"Mr. Michael! Bellere clearly withstood your Conqueror's Haki, but then suddenly saw your face and fainted from sheer frustration!" Isca said urgently from the side, actually lowering her sword.
"I never expected you'd already returned!"
"Hmm? You know ?"
"Every mber of the Angel Alliance must pass their first test—recognizing your face from any angle."
"...Damn, forgot about that..." Michael touched his face, "Seems I'll need better disguises when showing myself in the future."
As he spoke, holy light glowed from Michael's hands as he channeled it into Bellere's body.
Under the warm, soothing holy light, Bellere gradually opened her eyes.
Just then, the others gathered around.
Especially Nami, who was wearing a veil, imdiately snatched her mother from Michael's arms.
"Michael! What did you do to my mom this ti!?"
"Where does this 'this ti' co from, you brat!?"
"Hah!? Back in Alabasta, weren't you always deliberately hitting on my mom!?"
"I think you need your eyes checked... What Bellere and I had was pure comradery!"
Before Michael and Nami could argue further, Bellere had fully awakened under the holy light's effects.
The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was her most troubleso daughter dressed in so shaless dancer outfit, quarreling with Michael.
"Wait... what kind of nightmare is this? Both Michael and Nami beca pirates?"
"Ahahaha, Bellere! This isn't a dream—it's reality! And reality is even more absurd!" Garp laughed heartily as he approached.
"Even an old man like has beco a pirate now!"
Bellere took one look at Garp's face covered in scars and scruffy beard, let out a despairing sound from her throat, and fainted again.
"Gah!"
"What the hell are you doing, you old geezer!"
Nami delivered a swift chop to Garp's neck as effortlessly as she would to his grandson.
Amidst the absurd scene, a trembling voice ca from behind.
"...What exactly is going on here?"
"So kind of role-playing convention?"
Hearing this, Michael happily looked toward the source of the voice.
There stood Cobra, utterly dumbfounded, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"Yo, if it isn't my favorite comrade Cobra!"
"I've got great news to tell you..."
"Hand over your IC, IP, IQ cards—all of them! And the passwords too!"
...
"So... when did you return to this era? Kozuki Toki told us you were sent to the past by Lunar Technology... It took a long ti to co to terms with that..."
"Just a few days ago. I didn't plan to announce it to everyone—just gathered so hobound old-tirs and invalids to set sail as pirates."
"I can understand you returning, and not making it public. I can even try to understand you becoming a pirate now..." Cobra's lips twitched as he pointed at the Old Geezers Pirates mbers sitting unceremoniously in his palace.
"But you call these people 'hobound old-tirs and invalids'?"
"Huh? What's the problem?"
Michael blinked his eyes.
"A bunch of old geezers in their seventies and eighties—isn't that just old? The oldest in the fire rescue squad is Reiju in her twenties, so isn't that just weak little kids? As for sick and disabled... doesn't that all apply to Rocks?"
"Hey, Michael, watch your words! I'm not disabled anymore, okay!? Weren't you the one who personally helped regenerate my severed limbs?"
"I'm talking about your strength! After losing your power, in a way, compared to your complete form, isn't that just disabled!?"
"Dammit! Even when hitting soone, you don't hit their face!" Though Rocks looked a bit frustrated, he clearly wasn't too bothered by it anymore.
"See? Old, weak, sick, and disabled—any issues with that?"
"What am I supposed to say to this?" Cobra sighed. "I hope you can still be this glib when you see Queen Sora later."
"...Are you seriously pulling this card!? Why'd you call my sister over!?"
"Obviously! If a bunch of random powerful pirates are charging at my palace, shouldn't I call for backup!?"
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