One Piece: Emperor of Knowledge

Captain Lorcan paced through the charred remains of King Alastor's castle, his steps echoing through the silent halls. The air was thick with the bitter smell of smoke and burnt wood, a reminder of the fire that had razed sections of the building.

It was dawn, and light filtered through the fractured walls, casting an eerie glow over the destruction. The grandeur of the palace was gone, reduced to rubble, but beneath it, Lorcan sensed a meticulousness, a careful erasure of any incriminating trace.

A thin, dark-haired noblewoman stepped cautiously into the hall, glancing warily at Lorcan and his squad of Marines combing the area. She looked shaken but curious, her gaze flickering to the ruined walls and debris scattered across the floor. Lorcan beckoned her over, his expression hard and probing.

"Lady Serephine, you were at the gala, yes?" Lorcan asked, his voice clipped, leaving no room for evasion.

She nodded, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. "Yes, Captain. I… I saw him. The man who introduced those devices to the crowd, the one with the inventions." Her voice trembled, a hint of awe creeping through her fear. "I didn't know his name, but he was tall, with an intense presence, calm, self-assured. His inventions… they were unlike anything I've ever seen."

Another nobleman nearby, a rotund figure with a jeweled cravat, overheard her words and stepped forward, his tone almost reverent despite the destruction surrounding them. "You're talking about the man with those mechanical birds, right? The ones that moved like they were alive? And the clock, oh, that clock! The constellations shifted across it so smoothly. Everyone was captivated."

A faint scowl crossed Lorcan's face. "Captivated enough to let him disappear without raising an alarm?" He kept his tone level, but a note of irritation slipped through.

The nobleman shifted uncomfortably. "Well… he wasn't exactly inconspicuous, but he didn't seem dangerous. Just… brilliant. I don't think any of us expected him to… well, end the night like this." He gestured toward the ravaged hall, the unease clear on his face.

Lorcan's jaw tightened as he considered this. He turned to Lieutenant Harrow, who had been taking notes nearby. "Did any of the guests or staff see him leaving?"

Harrow shook his head. "No, sir. But there were rumors of the King desire to recruit him, before the commotion began. Some thought Alastor planned to enlist the man's skills for the government. It appears that... didn't go according to plan."

Lorcan's gaze sharpened. "So this wasn't a reckless intruder. This was someone who knew exactly what he was doing."

He looked down at the hastily sketched portrait based on witness descriptions. The artist had captured the features carefully, a strong jawline, deep-set eyes that held a sharpness, a hint of relentless purpose. The kind of face that stood out, even at an event full of aristocrats and wealthy merchants. Lorcan took a deep breath, studying the image as he processed the scope of what they were dealing with.

One of the Marines approached, holding a piece of torn fabric, a small, charred remnant found in the treasury chamber. Lorcan examined it closely, his expression hardening as he recognized the insignia sewn into the cloth. The royal treasury seal. This stranger had not only assassinated the king, but had also stripped the treasury bare, taking jewels, gold, and government documents with him.

Turning to Harrow, Lorcan's voice was grim. "Send word to the World Government. This man didn't just eliminate Alastor; he's stolen resources and classified documents. If this technology and knowledge fall into the wrong hands, it could shift the balance of power."

Harrow hesitated. "Do we have enough to assign a bounty, Captain?"

Lorcan looked back at the portrait, a flash of anger crossing his features as he thought about the audacity this man had shown. "Yes. Draw up the paperwork. He won't go unnoticed for long."

Another Marine cleared his throat, stepping forward with a message he'd just received over the Den Den Mushi. "Sir, it's Headquarters. They're authorizing a bounty, but… they're reluctant to assign too much manpower just yet. They consider this target a low priority, compared to the growing unrest in the New World."

Lorcan's fists clenched. Typical government short-sightedness. He felt a bitter frustration at their dismissive attitude; they weren't looking closely enough at the risk here. This man had shown cunning, capability, and an intellect that was more dangerous than brute strength. With Alastor dead, the vacuum of power on this island would be felt soon enough, and the government might not even realize the threat until it was too late.

"Fine," Lorcan replied tersely. "Set the bounty at a modest figure, but mark it for immediate escalation if he's sighted again. Make sure the sketch is circulated among every Marine base in the vicinity. And send a copy to Cipher Pol."

The Marines worked efficiently, their focus shifting to the logistics of posting the bounty. Lorcan's gaze lingered on the portrait, noting the subtle confidence in the man's expression. Whoever this stranger was, he'd left an impression. Nobles and craftsmen alike had marveled at his inventions, their awe clouded by a growing unease that still lingered in the crowd's whispers.

"We're dealing with someone who operates differently from the usual criminals," Lorcan muttered to Harrow. "He doesn't leave traces. No rage, no erratic behavior. Just purpose. Everything he's done has been intentional."

The noblewoman who had first described Orion's presence stepped forward once more, her voice hesitant but urgent. "Captain… there's one more thing. At the gala, he seemed… aware. He looked at each of us like he already knew what we thought of him. The way he observed everything around him… it was unsettling."

Lorcan filed this away, his mind running through the implications. This man didn't simply craft ingenious devices; he seemed to have an instinctive ability to read the room, to know how much he could show without revealing his true hand. It was a skill as dangerous as any weapon.

As the morning passed, Lorcan ordered his Marines to continue interviewing anyone who had crossed paths with the stranger, hoping for one more clue. The man's inventions had already left a profound impact, setting the nobles abuzz with both admiration and trepidation. It was clear he'd made himself memorable. That could either be a flaw he hadn't anticipated, or a calculated risk he'd prepared for.

Once the investigation was complete, Lorcan took a final look at the devastation left behind. The castle was empty now, its silent rooms void of the life and power it once held. And somewhere out there, the man responsible for its downfall was likely already on the move.

Lorcan gave a final order to his men. "Post the bounty on the town notice boards and at every port. Make sure anyone leaving the island knows his face."

As the sketch was nailed to the boards and circulated among the populace, whispers followed it. Some who had seen the inventions marveled at his genius, others shuddered at the thought of the power he held. The man in the portrait was becoming a ghost story, a legend whispered in the alleys and taverns of the island.

By late afternoon, Lorcan and his team had concluded their work, departing with a sense of unfinished business. The World Government had only a casual interest in capturing this man, yet Lorcan knew this stranger wasn't the type to fade quietly into obscurity. His actions had already left too many ripples.

The calculated nature of his crime, the audacity of showing his creations to an audience, then dismantling the king's power with such ease, it was not something he would forget.

As Lorcan left the island, he kept the stranger's portrait tucked in his mind, a vivid reminder of the man who had slipped through their fingers. He had a feeling this will not be the last time.

And somewhere, across the waves, the man known only as Orion Hale was already setting sail, preparing to carve his own path through the Grand Line, a shadow that the Marines and the World Government would one day come to regret underestimating.

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