The Going Merry sailed with urgency toward the cold mists rising in the distance. Drum Kingdom—a snowy land of steep cliffs and forgotten pride—loomed ahead, nestled among frigid peaks like a scar in the sky.
Nami's fever had worsened, and time was no longer a luxury.
Luffy stood at the front of the ship, arms folded and jaw set. "We need a doctor."
Vihaan was beside Nami, still cooling her down and checking her pulse. "We're close. Just hold on."
The rest of the crew had layered up with whatever winterwear they could scavenge from the ship.
But fate, as always, had its own plans.
BOOM.
A cannonball struck the ocean near the Merry, splashing up freezing salt water.
From above, descending like a spoiled child in a toy helicopter, came a large, pompous man in regal purple and gold, with a comically large metal jaw.
"HA HA HA! Your ship looked tasty, so I helped myself!"
Wapol, self-proclaimed King of Drum, landed hard on the Merry's deck—and took a massive bite out of the side rail.
CHOMP.
Everyone froze.
"You—WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO OUR SHIP!?" Usopp screamed.
"Baku Baku no Mi," Wapol gloated, licking his metal lips. "I can eat anything and make it a part of me!"
"LIKE HELL YOU CAN!" Usopp shouted again, eyes flaming.
With shaking hands and righteous fury, he loaded his slingshot, took aim—and fired.
TWANG.
A steel ball shot right into Wapol's open mouth. He choked and staggered.
"ACK! WHAT WAS THAT!?"
"That… was for the Going Merry!" Usopp cried, panting.
Wapol's men, watching from a smaller ship nearby, responded.
Within seconds, several lackeys jumped onto the Merry, brandishing clubs, swords, and clunky armor.
Zoro instinctively reached for his blades, Sanji cracked his neck, and even Luffy looked ready to bounce.
But someone moved faster.
Vihaan appeared in a blur, now standing right in front of Wapol, his body lowered slightly, one hand hovering above the snowy deck.
Tiny reflective blades — razor-thin, floating like feathers — shimmered in the air.
He raised his fingers.
The shards aligned against Wapol's neck.
"Move another inch," Vihaan said coldly, "and I'll carve your royal throat like glass."
Wapol froze.
His soldiers halted, confused.
"You think you can just barge into our ship, damage it, endanger our crew, and walk away with your jaw intact?"
Vihaan's gaze was burning. The mirror shards pulsed gently, catching glimpses of everyone around — threats mirrored from all sides.
Wapol swallowed. "Y-you wouldn't—"
"I would," Vihaan replied. "And I won't miss."
Nami stirred from below deck, her faint voice drifting up. "Is everything... okay?"
Vihaan didn't look away. "Everything's fine. Go back to sleep."
Zoro stepped up beside Vihaan, unsheathing his blade an inch. "You heard him."
Wapol raised his hands. "R-retreat! We're leaving!"
His men scrambled, leaping off the Merry like rats off a burning ship. Wapol called his personal mini-copter and lifted into the air again, still coughing from Usopp's shot.
"You'll regret this!" he shouted.
"No," Vihaan muttered, letting his mirror shards scatter harmlessly into the cold sea. "You will."
The Going Merry, though damaged slightly, pushed onward into the blizzard.
Vihaan rejoined Nami below deck, brushing snow from his hair.
"Did I hear cannon fire?" she murmured weakly.
"Just some idiot chewing on our ship. Handled it," Vihaan said, gently placing a warm cloth over her forehead.
Outside, the crew exhaled collectively.
"We need that doctor now more than ever," Luffy said, looking toward the snow-covered island looming ever closer.
As the Going Merry approached the shoreline of Drum Island, the wind howled like a wounded beast. Snow fell thick, blanketing everything in white — yet the cold wasn't the worst part.
It was the silence.
The island's docks were nearly abandoned, save for a few villagers wrapped in thick fur-lined cloaks. Their faces were pale and weary, eyes darting suspiciously toward the crew.
"This place…" Sanji muttered, lighting a cigarette to warm his fingers, "feels dead."
"I don't see a single shop open," Usopp whispered, pulling his coat tighter.
"Even the flags are tattered," Vivi noted, her gaze rising to see worn cloths barely fluttering in the wind.
Vihaan helped Nami wrap tighter in her blankets as they carefully moved her onto a stretcher made of layered sails and rope.
From a distance, a man on a horse — cloaked and firm-eyed — rode toward them. He dismounted slowly.
"I'm Dalton," he said. "And if you're not here to harm us, then you're welcome. But know this—our kingdom is sick. And not just with snow."
The crew exchanged glances.
Vihaan stepped forward. "We're not here to conquer. We just need a doctor… our navigator is burning with fever."
Dalton studied them for a long moment, then gave a slow nod.
"Follow me. But tread carefully. Drum Kingdom has seen enough fear already."
As they entered the quiet, snow-covered village, the crew realized: the real enemy here wasn't just cold… it was history, tyranny, and scars left by Wapol's reign.