First, I left the island as quickly as I could and returned to our base island. I packed in a rush, grabbed what I needed, and walked out of the house.
I canceled the lease by Den Den Mushi, telling the agent to handle the paperwork and keep the prepaid rent.
Right now, I'm the only one living there.
Until recently, Stella had lived with , but once she got a job and could support herself, she moved out.
These days, Stella works at the sa publishing house as Eddie-chan.
Different departnts, different duties—but apparently she's earned a good reputation for being diligent and hardworking.
We're still close. We et up, eat together, sotis even crash at each other's places. But with things the way they are now, there's no guarantee the investigation won't spread to her, too.
So I called her on Den Den Mushi and told her we wouldn't be able to see each other for a while, for certain reasons. If anyone asked questions, she should say whatever she needed to—just stay careful and protect herself.
I sent similar ssages to Eddie-chan, Shakky, and Rayleigh.
With Eddie-chan, I kept it to the absolute minimum. If she learned anything about Cipher Pol, she'd be in danger, too.
I only told her I might get dragged into trouble, be falsely accused, and have to run.
And I told her that if the Governnt's claws ever reached her because of , she should sell out without hesitation. Her survival mattered more than anything.
I told Shakky and Rayleigh more than I told Eddie-chan or Stella, but honestly, I still didn't fully understand what was happening myself.
All I could say was that I'd stumbled onto so shady governnt deal or secret mission, and when they tried to silence , I ran. That I might be hunted from now on.
Forr pirates that they are, they didn't even blink.
"That's rough," they said. "Co by anyti if you need help."
Reliable as ever.
anwhile, I kept turning over worst-case scenarios in my head—over and over. Sohow, I managed to finish everything before a bounty poster could be issued… and got out.
And then, a few days later, my wanted poster was tucked between the pages of the News Coo's paper.
That's the whole story.
I still don't know what those Governnt n were doing there. I can't even begin to guess.
But they've completely upended my life.
Robin must have felt sothing like this, too—hunted simply for being able to read ancient text.
Before you've even done anything, they fabricate charges, slap a price on your head, and turn you into a fugitive.
That's the World Governnt.
According to them, my cris include aiding illegal research forbidden by the Governnt and receiving illicit profits… plus a list of other convenient accusations.
And because of my background as a bounty hunter, they set the bounty accordingly.
…Well, with my connection to Rayleigh and Shakky, I can't exactly claim I'm spotless, either.
But I've said it a thousand tis—I've never caused trouble for ordinary people. If anything, this ti Eddie-chan and I were the ones who got dragged into a ss.
And yet they pinned it on us so casually. Fabricated a flimsy excuse. Branded us villains without the slightest hesitation.
The World Governnt is rotten to the core.
Not to brag, but we genuinely believed we were protecting people. Couldn't they even consider that? It makes sick.
Sigh… Still, stewing over it won't change reality.
I'm wanted now.
Which ans I have to live as a wanted person. I need to start thinking about what cos next.
Whether I'll beco a pirate or not… I honestly have no idea.
I don't even know how to survive in the underworld.
…Well. It's not like I know nothing.
Back when I was an "Elite Slave," people drilled it into like background noise—the ABCs of the underworld, the rules of navigating its depths. It's outdated now, sure, but not useless.
Of course, I have no desire to live off cri the way those black market dealers did back then.
But the underworld has "uses."
It's as grimy and shadowed as you'd expect, but it's also a place where things can happen that would be impossible out in the open.
Turning bounties into rent money the way I used to has beco difficult.
I could go through an underworld broker. Apparently they use "legitimate" interdiaries to cash in bounties and collect rewards.
But the fees are obscene, and the success rate is all over the place. I don't want to rely on that.
If I could just make money using the relatively decent parts of my past… maybe I should.
No. I don't want to slide down that slope and end up a real criminal.
Still… it's kind of a rare "experience," in a way…
Ugh, even now I'm thinking like this?
Wait.
Now that I'm a wanted fugitive…
Does that an I have to give up writing, too?
That might be the most crushing part.
I've been living for it. Pouring my entire life into it.
Will bookstores pull my books just because a criminal wrote them?
Will my readers abandon …?
Ah, crap. I'm about to cry.
Damn it. Now I really want to crush the World Governnt. Is there a Pluton lying around sowhere?
How dare they ruin people's lives without a second thought…
But there's no way around it, is there?
No publisher in their right mind would touch a story written by a wanted criminal.
That's what I thought.
"Sensei, it's been too long! Co, sit down—let's get right into the eting!"
"Kuwahahaha! Good to see you're still standing, Sue! When those wanted posters suddenly started circulating, I thought you'd be devastated!"
"…Um. Why?"
On a certain island, in a certain café…
Right in front of sat two people, their energy utterly unchanged.
Eddie-chan.
And Morgans.
Um… you two do realize I'm a wanted criminal now, right? Hunted by the World Governnt and the Marines—false charges or not—do you understand that part?
"Didn't I tell you before, Sensei?! I—I'll follow you whether you beco a pirate or a bounty target!"
"That's what she said," Morgans chuckled. "But I couldn't let Eddie-kun beco a pirate, so I pulled a few strings to keep her as your editor."
That, at least, was their explanation.
As I'd expected, the mont I beca wanted, Eddie-chan's publishing house terminated every contract they had with .
They also decided to discontinue every book I'd written, cutting ties completely with anything connected to a criminal.
Eddie-chan fought back.
"The work is innocent," she insisted. "And there's no way Sue-sensei would do sothing like this."
But her superiors—especially the Editor-in-Chief—ignored her as if she were speaking to a wall.
Without listening to a word, they severed everything.
Morgans, however, had seen it coming.
Over the past few years, he'd climbed high enough to beco Vice President of the World Economic News.
And with that influence, he negotiated with Eddie-chan's publishing house and bought the rights to all my works—rights that had beco worthless to them the mont they dumped .
At the sa ti, he hired both Eddie-chan and Stella—who had resigned from the publishing house—to work for a publishing division under the World Economic News Group.
They'd quit because they refused to stay at a company that abandoned .
Morgans wanted their editorial skills, of course.
But he also wanted to keep the expertise they'd built while working with .
"But buying the rights to a criminal's work…" I grumbled. "Who knows if that'll even be useful?"
"Kuwahahaha!"
Morgans roared with laughter.
"Don't worry about that! I guarantee your popularity will skyrocket. So high that nobody will care whether you're a pirate or a bounty target. Frankly, it's beyond baffling your old publisher would dump you at a mont like this."
He sounded genuinely delighted.
"In fact, being wanted might free you from your last reservations!" he continued, eyes bright. "Now that the Governnt and Marines are after you, you can write whatever you want without holding back. Think of all the stories you restrained yourself from telling—ideas you couldn't pursue because you had to worry about their scrutiny!"
"…"
"There won't be any issue with publishing." Morgans leaned in, excitent thick in his voice. "Unless it's truly extre, our group has an appetite for provocative work. People will devour it. And as for …" He grinned. "The thought of reading sothing new—sothing only you could write—has buzzing. I know it sounds insensitive, but… seen that way, this situation isn't entirely bad."
Then he said it plainly.
"I don't care if you're wanted. I want you to keep writing, Sue. Don't put down your pen. That's how I feel."
"And as I said earlier," Eddie-chan added quickly, almost tripping over her words, "I've been assigned as your editor at the World Economic News Group publishing house, Sensei… I'll follow you anywhere. Just like always!"
Ah… you two really are cheering up.
Honestly, I thought it was over.
I thought I wouldn't be able to write anymore.
After everything that happened, I assud I'd have no choice but to retire.
It didn't matter how many ideas crowded my mind, how fiercely the urge to write burned, how hard the plot twists begged to be born.
I thought they'd never see daylight.
Even in my past world, "freedom of expression" was always being chipped away.
In this One Piece world, the Governnt could snuff it out on a whim—like blowing out a candle.
I truly believed I'd never be able to publish again.
But Morgans was right.
Outlaw or not—if I can still hold a pen, if there's still a place where I can do it…
No.
Even if it isn't "allowed," if there's still a place where I can—
"Kuwahahaha! Looks like the fire's been lit. It's written all over your face."
Oops. Was it that obvious?
He's right, though.
Fine.
I'll write as an outlaw.
Stories, everything—words that move people's hearts.
Truthfully, Morgans is right.
There are countless works gathering dust in my mind—stories I shelved out of deference to the Governnt and the Marines, never forgotten, only locked away.
Maybe it's ti to let them breathe.
Yeah.
That sounds good.
"Eddie-chan. Morgans."
I took a deep breath, then spoke in my usual bright tone.
"Shall we start the eting? Again… I look forward to working with you both."
"Y-yes! With pleasure!"
"Kuwahahaha! The pleasure is all mine, Sue! As fellow artists of the written word, I'm truly delighted by your decision!"
That day, we talked through projects until we were satisfied—then celebrated my "restart" with a lively dinner in a private izakaya.
There's no doubt the road ahead will be full of hardship.
But even in the middle of it…
There has to be a way for to live with joy—honestly, as myself.
Thanks to those two, I believed that again today.
To be continued...
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