The jungle was quiet again. The sounds of distant battle had faded, leaving behind only the hum of insects and the heavy breath of the wind.
Karl wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. The metallic tension of the fight still clung to his body, though the enemy lay broken in the dirt behind him. His arm still tingled with energy—Busoshoku Haki had left a mark. Power coursed beneath his skin now, quiet and dangerous.
He was about to move out when the sound of movement caught his ear, subtle, cautious.
A rustle. A soft breath.
Karl spun around, fists half-raised… only to freeze.
A young girl stood at the edge of the trees. Her dark, shoulder-length hair framed wary eyes too sharp for someone her age. She clutched a thick, weathered book like her life depended on it.
Karl blinked.
There was no mistaking her.
Nico Robin.
She looked ready to flee at the slightest wrong move.
Karl slowly relaxed his stance, keeping his hands in sight. "I'm not here to hurt you."
Robin said nothing, eyes darting toward the treetops—judging escape routes, no doubt.
He took a breath. "I'm not with the Marines. Or the government."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then who are you?"
"Karl."
Robin remained silent.
He glanced at the dirt on her clothes, the bruises on her knees, the hollow tiredness in her eyes.
"You've been running a long time."
Her shoulders tensed. "Why do you care?"
Karl looked away, letting his voice fall quiet. "Because sometimes the world just doesn't care. And that shouldn't be normal."
She blinked at him.
The silence stretched between them.
Finally, she spoke. "They destroyed everything."
He didn't need to ask who.
He stepped forward slowly, then crouched and gestured to the jungle trail. "There's a cave nearby. A safe place to rest. You can come if you want."
Robin didn't move for a while.
Then, gripping her book tighter, she followed him.
The cave lay behind a rock face covered in vines. Hidden, dry, and sheltered from the storm clouds gathering overhead.
Karl lit a small fire while Robin sat nearby, silently turning the pages of her book, though her eyes barely scanned the text.
She didn't ask questions. She didn't cry.
She just sat with the weight of her loss.
Karl didn't press. He knew enough about silence and what people needed after everything fell apart.
He handed her a small packet of food.
She hesitated, then took it.
After a long time, she asked, "Are you going to leave?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"That's what everyone does."
Karl looked at the fire, the flames dancing over ash.
"Then maybe it's time someone stayed."
Morning came with the cry of birds and the crash of waves beyond the treeline.
Karl stood at the cliff's edge, scanning the distant port with narrowed eyes. Soldiers moved in and out of the docks. Black flags marked the presence of someone dangerous.
He didn't like it.
A familiar voice spoke behind him. "You're not normal."
He turned. Robin stood with her arms crossed, eyes fixed on him.
"What do you mean?"
"You fight like someone who's trained for years. But you don't move like a Marine. And those attacks… the way your arms glowed."
Karl said nothing, simply giving her a calm look.
Robin frowned. "You're hiding something."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe. But I'm not your enemy."
She didn't reply.
But she didn't walk away either.
They hiked the edge of the island, careful to avoid patrols and search parties. Karl led them through rocky terrain and overgrown trails with the skill of a tracker. He didn't speak much. Robin followed with silent suspicion, but her trust was slowly forming, piece by fragile piece.
Later that day, they reached an abandoned watchtower.
Karl paused.
A name was carved crudely into the stone—Brannigan—and next to it, a symbol: the emblem of a pirate crew Karl didn't recognize.
He crouched low, brushing his fingers over the edge.
Fresh. Recent.
"Someone's been here."
Suddenly, a loud bang rang out.
Robin screamed as something exploded behind them. Smoke. Shouts.
They were being hunted again.
Karl grabbed her wrist. "Run!"
They sprinted down a jagged path as gunshots rang out behind them.
Two bounty hunters emerged from the smoke—one tall, wielding a blade of crackling energy, the other shorter, with an arm cannon fused to his shoulder.
"Orders are clear!" the short one shouted. "We take the girl alive!"
Karl turned mid-run, fist glowing as he struck the ground. The earth cracked violently beneath the attackers, forcing them to stumble.
He didn't wait to finish them—he grabbed Robin and pulled her around the bend.
Minutes passed in chaos. They only stopped when they reached a ravine too wide to cross without help.
Robin panted. "We're trapped!"
Karl glanced around.
Then he turned to her. "Hold on tight."
She blinked. "Wha—"
Before she could protest, he lifted her and leapt.
Robin screamed as they soared across the chasm. For a moment, gravity itself seemed to hesitate.
Then they landed hard, Karl skidding to a stop with her in his arms.
He let her go gently.
Robin stared at him, wide-eyed. "How—"
But he was already moving again.
They reached a small beach at the island's edge just as dusk painted the sky.
An old fishing boat floated at the shore, mostly intact.
Karl examined it, nodding. "This will do."
Robin climbed in slowly, sitting at the bow.
She looked up at him. "You're not just some traveller."
He didn't answer.
Instead, he untied the ropes and pushed them off into the sea.