So, Davy Jones—he was here too?
Kid's dark red mouth curved upward into a grin. Good. Perfect. I thought I'd only run into him in the "New World."
He followed the direction Madam Shyarly's pipe pointed toward—the dark, oppressive depths of the sea beyond Fish-Man Island.
That place… to clash with Davy Jones there would be reckless.
Kid wasn't stupid enough to fight Fish-Men in the ocean, not unless it was absolutely unavoidable.
But in terms of sheer presence, he refused to back down.
He sneered:
"I'm not afraid of him. If I meet him here on Fish-Man Island, I wouldn't mind teaching him a lesson."
Shyarly only answered with a derisive snort.
Killer, Kid's right-hand man, fastened his twin scythes back onto his body, then walked over and tugged at Kid's arm, urging him:
"Kid, our coated ship sets out tomorrow."
"Tomorrow…" Kid muttered, his eyes still full of thoughts about Davy Jones, calculating whether time would allow, whether he should change their departure plans.
Killer patted his arm, his voice muffled through the mask:
"Kid, don't stir up unnecessary trouble. Davy Jones isn't like Shark Star—he's no pushover."
Easily taking down Fukaboshi and provoking Davy Jones were two entirely different matters.
Davy Jones was someone who could defeat a Warlord of the Sea.
Kid's grin faded. His lips pressed tight, his dark-red mouth closing as he stared at Killer.
In the whole Kid Pirates crew, only this closest friend dared speak discouraging words when Kid's blood was up.
His cold expression was terrifying, like a beast ready to strike.
But after a long silence, he suddenly burst out laughing again, slapping Killer on the shoulder.
"Fine, fine, Killer. You always win these arguments. Let's leave it here for today. Tomorrow we're sailing away from this damp, weak, fish-ridden place."
Running a hand through his spiky red hair, Kid laughed loudly. As he strode past Madam Shyarly, he even gave the mermaid a sharp whistle.
Killer and the rest of the Kid Pirates followed right behind. Soon, they disappeared at the far end of Fishman Street.
The watching Fish-Man residents all let out a collective sigh of relief. They had feared Shyarly would be brutalized like Prince Fukaboshi—fortunately, the worst hadn't happened.
Shyarly took a long drag from her pipe, shifted on the soft bubble cushion, and turned to look at another "Supernova," the one sitting bloodied beneath a broken wall.
She hadn't forgotten there was still one troublesome pirate left.
"How long do you plan on staying here? Should I ask you to leave? Or are you soft-hearted enough to stick around and pay for all the damages?"
"Wow, you must be the coldest-hearted mermaid I've ever met," Apoo replied casually, standing up.
The Longarm tribe's abnormally long arms brushed the dust from his body as he moved.
Grinning, blood running down from his forehead into his mouth and staining his piano-like black-and-white teeth, he said:
"I'll go now. But I don't have a single berry on me."
Apoo laughed boisterously and left, swaggering as if nothing had happened—though only moments ago he had clashed with Kid and been beaten bloody.
On his way out, he even gave a roguish wink at the café's mermaid waitresses, as if inviting them to join him for a night of fun.
Terrified, the mermaids huddled together in the corner, glancing between Apoo and Shyarly with desperate hope.
"What, are mermaids here all so dull?" Apoo spread his hands, disappointed.
"The women back on Sabaody are way more interesting."
With a lazy gait, Apoo left Fishman Street behind, leaving nothing but the echo of his carefree steps.
Only after Kid, Killer, and Apoo—all three "Supernovas"—vanished from sight did the café's mermaid staff dare swim over to Shyarly, thanking and praising her for standing up to them.
But Shyarly didn't respond. She only stared blankly at her half-ruined café, lost in thought.
After a long silence, the voices of her staff finally pulled her back to reality.
She had to admit it: invoking Davy Jones' name had been nothing but bluff—fox borrowing tiger's might.
She wasn't close to him, and he had no reason to help her.
But in the world of pirates, the name "Davy Jones" carried far more weight than "Shyarly" ever could.
And she had a feeling—no crystal ball needed—that in the future, she'd often find herself forced to brandish that name to keep reckless pirates in line.
Hidden in the shadows of a side alley, another "Supernova" had witnessed Kid and Apoo's entire scuffle.
X Drake quietly pulled a Den Den Mushi from his coat.
These guys never stop making trouble…
The pirate with the cross-shaped scar across his jaw thought grimly.
Purupurupuru… click!
The line connected. After a brief coded exchange, confirming identities, the Den Den Mushi was passed to a third party.
"Drake, where are you now?"
It was the stern voice of an elderly woman.
"Still following those 'Supernovas'?"
Drake leaned against the wall, scanning his surroundings before lowering his voice to reply:
"Vice Admiral Tsuru, I'm on Fish-Man Island. Most of the 'Supernovas' are here too—but most of them plan to leave tomorrow."
The truth was, Drake wasn't a genuine pirate "Supernova."
He was an undercover agent, sent by the Navy.
His mission: build a name for himself in the New World, then infiltrate a Yonko's crew—waiting for the right chance to strike.
Tsuru chuckled softly on the other end, her voice calm but perceptive:
"Heh. Drake, I'd wager you wouldn't be calling unless you'd uncovered something new."
"I have. Just now, I confirmed that Davy Jones is near Fish-Man Island."
Tsuru fell silent for a moment, before answering in a voice gone cold:
"Why am I not surprised?"
The outside world had no idea what Davy Jones had done at Marineford.
But Tsuru—who had been there—knew all too well just how vicious and uncanny this pirate was.
He had risen in barely half a year.
If not for the sheer speed his bounty had climbed, and the number of prominent Marines and pirates alike he had defeated, he should have been counted among this year's "Supernovas."
But after the Paramount War, lumping Davy Jones in with the "Supernovas" would only have been an insult to them.
From the very start, Davy Jones had never been on the same starting line as those rookies.
"Has the Davy Jones Pirates made Fish-Man Island their base?"
"From what I've observed, no," Drake replied.
"But they are recruiting—mostly Fish-Men."
"I see."
Tsuru let out a weary sigh.
"Drake, don't provoke him. He's not an opponent you can handle. Leave Fish-Man Island immediately, the sooner the better."
"But I'm still trying to reach out to some of the other 'Supernovas,' to see if we can form an alliance—"
"Don't think about that anymore. Leave Fish-Man Island!" Tsuru suddenly snapped, her tone sharp as steel.
"Drake, you don't understand the severity of this. Obey my orders. Is that clear?"
Drake's mouth hung open for a moment before he finally answered hoarsely:
"…Yes, Vice Admiral Tsuru. I'll leave at first light tomorrow."
"Can't you leave now?"
"Vice Admiral, I still need to make final supply preparations. Out at sea, we still need to eat—and who knows where the next inhabited island will be."
"…Fine. But remember this, Drake. The New World is far more dangerous than you realize. Whatever you do, always put your safety first. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The call ended shortly after. Drake tucked the Den Den Mushi back into his coat.
So Vice Admiral Tsuru held such deep fear of Davy Jones… Drake frowned.
What exactly did he do at Marineford? And those phantoms in the sea… were they connected to him?
Drake shook his head, forcing the thoughts away. Tsuru was right—it wasn't the time to think too much.
After carefully scanning the area once more and sensing no one tailing him, he adjusted his tricorne hat, rested his hand on the sword at his waist, and walked away.
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