Smoker One Piece Novels & Stories

"Why the hell do you have to call me? We cut ties already remember, and never to see each other, was with the call this time, huh?" The figure smoke was standing with yelled at him for buzzing his phone with calls. Smoke pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, Kindle it, turn it off, and put it in his mouth. He drew smoke out of it and puff it to the figure's face, which made him start to cough. Shadow pulled out a knife and point it to his neck, making him tilt his head a bit.

"Our phone numbers are all in there!" Severin nodded. "Do you have a smoke?" The middle-aged man immediately took out a pack of cigarettes and handed them respectfully to Severin. After lighting the cigarette and taking a big puff, he said with the utmost appreciation, "Thank you all. Don't you worry about me though. I am your master, after all, so I'm more than capable of surviving on my own! Besides, I've already reached 'that' level of attainment!" "Did you just say 'that' level?"

I’ve been studying them both closely, just like Dad trained me to do with all my enemies. One-Eye has a clear preference for his right-hand side, which makes sense given his massive blind spot. I spot nicotine stains on his fingers. A smoker. He hasn’t left to take a smoke break in a while, and I can see him getting a bit jittery. He’s grown progressively more agitated over the past few hours, which only adds to my theory. I wonder if I can use this to my advantage somehow.

I looked at Lucas who was glaring at me with pure hatred and disgust, and I knew he had no idea what was coming. Suddenly, the air shifted, and the heavy iron gate of the dungeon shattered with a deafening crash. The warriors and Lucas flinched back in fear as the door crumpled like paper, the force of Smoke's presence filled the room like water. Smoke's grip clutched Lucas's neck and he was lifted off the ground with one hand, his feet dangled as he fought for his life. Smoke's glowing eyes locked onto mine. "Are you okay, Venom?" he asked, his voice a deep, primal growl.

The prairie is every bit as dangerous as the sea, and here, sharks hide in every shadow. The scent of smoke hits my lungs, and I slow, lifting my head to take a deep breath. Something is on fire. I come to a stop and inhale a few more times. The scent of burning timber registers. This isn’t a grass fire. It smells like the forest after a lightning strike. But there is no forest near us. It has to be a structure fire. Another whiff brings the milder scent of burning leather–and then a fainter note of fur and flesh. “What is that?” Kan asks through the mind-link.

"But that's not even the most shocking part. Ava, he was smoking." I blinked, confused. "He was smoking? Like real smoke?”

Dressed in black, he held a cigarette between his fingers, exhaling smoke casually. A cool breeze swept past, dispersing the smoke. Slowly, his chiseled, handsome face came into view.

I was heading for water when a man in pressed linen and too much cologne slid into my path. “Well, hello, gorgeous,” he said, his eyes shamelessly crawling over me. “That bikini was made to be sinned in.” I rolled my eyes. “You should try that line on someone desperate.” He leaned closer, breath hot and foul. “Come on, one drink. If he’s not keeping you satisfied—” “I promise you, he is,” I cut him off, my voice sugar-sharp. “And he doesn’t share his toys.” I left him standing there, smirking at my own bite, until the sharp scent of smoke hit me. A fire??

He scrambled to his feet, staggering toward Soo-ah. Sang-woo grabbed him mid-step. “We’re not done yet!” he shouted, dragging him away from the bomb. Behind them, Devin moved with lethal grace, cutting down the last of the men and igniting a wall of fire as a shield. The heat was intense, scorching the air, but Soo-ah felt alive—every nerve on fire, every muscle taut. The Smiling Man, realizing his advantage was gone, bolted toward the far end of the docks. “This isn’t over, Novelle!” he shouted, his voice carrying over the roar of the flames.

The orange tip glowed brightly in the dark, smoky room. The rogue exhales a thin cloud of gray smoke toward the ceiling and gestures lazily between the two women with the bloody blade. "Choose, Alpha," the rogue whispered, his grin widening as the smoke curled around his scarred face. "Before I finish this cigarette. Which one walks out?"