Namor McKenzie In One Piece

The crew of the Arlong Pirates knelt reluctantly before Namor, their weapons discarded and their expressions a mix of anger and fear. The once-boisterous shark Fishman lay at Namor's feet, clutching his chest where the trident had struck him.

Namor looked down at them, his face impassive. "You will take me to your leader. To this… Arlong."

The shark Fishman grimaced but managed to push himself up onto his knees. "You don't know what you're asking for, 'king.' Arlong won't kneel to anyone, least of all you."

Namor raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Let him decide that for himself." He turned his back on the crew, walking toward the ship's helm. "Set a course for Arlong's whereabouts. Now."

The pirates exchanged uneasy glances but scrambled to obey, one of them rushing to take the wheel while the others manned the sails. Namor leaned against the railing, gazing out at the horizon as the ship began to move.

The wind carried the scent of the sea, and Namor took a deep breath, feeling more alive than he had since his arrival in this strange world. He had felt doubt creeping in earlier, uncertainty about whether this new body could match the strength he once had. But this encounter had sparked something within him—a reminder of his power, of who he was.

As the ship sailed forward, a cry rang out from the crow's nest.

"Ship spotted! Dead ahead!"

Namor turned his head toward the commotion. In the distance, another vessel was approaching, its black sails adorned with the familiar skull-and-crossbones emblem of pirates. The ship was smaller than the one Namor now stood on, but it was closing in fast, its cannons already swiveling into position.

"They're firing!" a crew member shouted.

A deafening boom echoed across the water as a cannonball hurtled toward them, cutting through the air with lethal speed.

Namor stepped forward, raising his trident. Without a word, he hurled the weapon with all his might.

The trident became a blur, a streak of gold that tore through the air. It struck the incoming cannonball dead center, shattering it into harmless fragments before continuing its trajectory. The pirates on the opposing ship barely had time to react before the trident pierced their vessel's hull with a thunderous crack.

The ship shuddered violently, water rushing in through the massive hole as the crew scrambled to keep it afloat. Namor held out his hand, and the trident returned to him with a sharp whoosh, the weapon glowing faintly as it came to rest in his grip.

The sight left the Fishmen behind him dumbstruck. One of them whispered, "What the hell is he…?"

Namor turned to them, a grin spreading across his face. "I was beginning to think this body had weakened me. It's good to know I still have some of my strength."

The Fishmen said nothing, their fear palpable as they hastened to sail onward.

Namor returned to the bow of the ship, resting his trident across his shoulders as he gazed ahead. "Let us hope your leader is wiser than you," he said, his tone casual but laced with menace. "I'd hate to see all this power go to waste."

The ship sailed on, leaving the wreckage of the enemy vessel behind. The journey to Arlong Park continued, the air heavy with tension as Namor's newfound crew dared not test their king again.

…

The Fishmen's ship approached the island steadily, its shadow stretching across the waters as they neared the dock. Namor stood at the bow, his trident resting in his hand, his expression unreadable. The memories of this world had told him little of this place, but the grim expressions on the faces of the Fishmen told him everything he needed to know.

As the ship docked, the Fishmen crew scrambled to secure it, their movements hurried under Namor's cold gaze. Once they finished, the shark Fishman stepped forward, his body tense as he gestured toward the island.

"Arlong Park is that way," he said, pointing toward a distant structure barely visible through the dense palm trees. "But we have to pass through Cocoyasi Village first."

Namor gave a curt nod, motioning for them to lead the way.

The small group descended from the ship, the Fishmen flanking Namor as they made their way down a dirt path leading to the village. The air was heavy with humidity, the scent of salt and earth mingling unpleasantly.

When they entered Cocoyasi Village, Namor's sharp eyes took in the scene before him. The place was in disarray—houses in disrepair, gardens overgrown, and the villagers themselves thin and weary, their faces etched with fear. Women clutched their children tightly, while men stood back, their eyes filled with quiet resentment.

Namor's brow furrowed slightly as he observed them. These people were clearly broken, their spirit crushed under the weight of something far greater than themselves.

The Fishmen strutted through the village with arrogance, ignoring the fearful looks of the villagers as they passed. Namor said nothing, his expression calm as his trident rested against his shoulder.

Suddenly, a child's voice cut through the tense silence.

"Stop!"

Namor turned his head, his piercing gaze landing on a small boy standing in the middle of the dirt road. The boy couldn't have been older than ten, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as he glared up at Namor with tear-filled eyes.

"You have to help us!" the boy cried, his voice trembling but filled with determination. "The Fishmen… they killed my dad!"

The villagers gasped, their faces paling as they glanced nervously between Namor and the Fishmen. The shark Fishman snarled, stepping forward aggressively.

"Watch your mouth, brat!" he growled.

Namor raised a hand, silencing him. His gaze never left the boy, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Your father is dead?" Namor asked, his tone even.

The boy nodded furiously, his tears streaming down his face. "They killed him! They take everything from us, and no one does anything! Please, you have to stop them!"

For a moment, Namor said nothing. His expression was cold, unreadable, as he stared at the boy. Slowly, he began to walk forward, the villagers parting to let him pass.

The boy's eyes lit up with hope, thinking Namor had heard his plea. "You'll help us, right?"

Namor stopped in front of the boy, towering over him. He looked down, his silver-blue eyes narrowing further as he said in a quiet, cutting tone, "Do not presume to command me."

The boy's hope shattered instantly. Namor turned away without another word, continuing down the path toward Arlong Park.

The villagers looked on in stunned silence, their despair deepening as Namor's figure grew smaller in the distance. The Fishmen followed, some laughing at the boy's boldness while others exchanged uneasy glances.

Namor, for his part, kept his gaze forward. He couldn't deny that the state of the village had disturbed him, but his mind was elsewhere. This was not his world, not his people. His focus remained on understanding his position in this strange new sea.

"Perhaps when I claim these waters, their suffering will end," he muttered to himself. "But for now, their pain is none of my concern."

The towering gates of Arlong Park loomed ahead, a grotesque fortress adorned with Fishman iconography. The air was thick with humidity and tension as Namor and the Fishmen crew approached. The shark Fishman leading the group glanced nervously at Namor, whose calm yet imposing demeanor had kept them on edge throughout the journey.

Namor's sharp eyes scanned the structure. It was crude by his standards, but there was strength in its simplicity—high walls, reinforced gates, and a strategic position near the water. His grip on his trident tightened slightly as they passed through the gates, flanked by armed Fishmen guards who eyed him warily.

Inside, the atmosphere was alive with chaos. Fishmen of all shapes and sizes moved about, carrying crates, sharpening weapons, and laughing boisterously. At the center of it all sat Arlong himself, a massive sawshark Fishman lounging on a stone throne. His sharp teeth glinted in the sunlight as he laughed, tossing a pile of coins into the air.

Namor stopped, his gaze locking onto Arlong. His presence was immediately noticed. The rowdy laughter ceased, and the Fishmen turned to face the newcomer, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

Arlong's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, his grin fading. "Who the hell are you?"

Namor stepped forward, his posture regal as he planted the butt of his trident on the ground. "I am Namor, the Submariner, king of the seas." he said, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "You rule in my domain. Consider this your first and only warning: kneel, or face the consequences."

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the fortress walls. Then, Arlong burst into laughter, a guttural, mocking sound that spread to the rest of the Fishmen.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that, 'Submariner.'," Arlong said, rising to his full height. His towering figure cast a long shadow as he stepped toward Namor. "But you've got no idea who you're dealing with. This is my territory, and I don't take kindly to strangers making demands."

Namor tilted his head slightly, unimpressed. "You mistake me for someone who cares for your opinions."

Arlong's grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting menacingly. "Big words for a little human. Let's see if you can back them up."

Before anyone could act, a commotion erupted outside the gates. The sound of hurried footsteps and raised voices reached the courtyard, drawing the attention of both Namor and the Fishmen.

A guard stumbled into the area, panting heavily. "Arlong! There's a pirate crew in the village—they're causing trouble!"

"A pirate crew?" Arlong growled, his expression darkening. "Who?"

"They call themselves The Straw Hat Pirates," the guard replied. "They're here for the girl."

Arlong's grin returned, more sinister than before. "Well, well. Looks like we've got guests. I'll deal with them after I take care of this one." He pointed a clawed finger at Namor.

Namor raised an eyebrow, the name "Straw Hat Pirates," didn't ring any bells in his newly acquired memories. He stepped forward, ignoring the growing tension around him. "You'll deal with no one but me, Arlong. The fate of these pirates is of no concern to me."

Arlong's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Then let's see if you're as tough as you act, 'Submariner.'"

As Arlong motioned for his men to attack, Namor's lips curled into a faint smirk.