East Blue—somewhere not far from White Ghost.
A group was gathering in the dark.
A man with a huge sword strapped to his back—nearly five meters tall—spoke from the shadows, his tone contemptuous.
"You woke me up for this kid?"
"Have you lot become so useless you can't even handle a brat like him?"
Another man replied, "You saw his file, didn't you?"
"Terror-level strength. Mythical Zoans. Great swordsman. High-level Conqueror's coating. Top-tier Haki."
"That man has already disrupted too many of our plans. We can't let him keep going."
The giant swordsman snorted. "So what? Don't tell me you can't deal with him. Pathetic."
"Shura," someone warned, displeased. "Watch your mouth."
"We can't expose ourselves. If we do, the World Government—those traitors—won't let us live."
"Pah." Shura spat his cigar stub onto the ground. "Trash is trash. Don't dress it up with excuses."
No one bothered arguing further. That was just Shura—his personality had always been foul.
"And I'm enough," Shura said, glancing toward the people assembling at the port. "No need to bring those useless insects."
"For safety, we're cooperating with Pieklo's side," one of them said. "If we can pull them in, good."
"A killer. An organ-trafficking piece of garbage," Shura scoffed. "You'll work with that now? Heh."
A woman finally snapped. "Look at how troublesome the World Government is! We take whatever we can get—unlike you lot!"
The black-robed woman tilted her chin at someone. "You sleep away the centuries and only wake up for a decisive battle."
"Now you're asked to handle a small problem and suddenly you're picky. Want to trade places? You manage these 'small problems' and we'll go back to sleep."
"Enough," someone else interjected, smoothing things over. "We've waited eight hundred years. Hope is finally here. Don't ruin it over something minor."
Then the man leading them turned to Shura.
"Shura, shut up and remember the mission."
"Kill White Ghost."
"If any of his crew can be recruited, recruit them."
"Uta—Shanks says he'll handle that himself."
"The two Mythical Zoan girls are to be kept."
"And most importantly—the two people behind the longevity potion."
"Those two must be captured alive. No killing."
"Got it," Shura said, lighting a fresh cigar.
He looked at White Ghost's file on the table with disdain.
A brat. That's all.
Then he spoke again, voice lower.
"I don't want to go back to sleep."
"You still haven't found that so-called Pure Gold?"
Someone in the darkness sighed. "Not easy. That lanternfish swallowed the island and barely shows itself anymore."
"And you know what the sea is like. We can't reach the deep ocean."
"But Poseidon has been born. We can approach Fish-Man Island."
"When the time comes, let Poseidon help us search. That's also why you must kill him."
"Fish-Man Island has close ties to him. There are rumors the current Poseidon is dependent on him."
"He has to be uprooted. Poseidon has to be pulled to our side."
Shura's eyes narrowed, cigar between his teeth. "Young fools. They get a bit of strength and start acting wild."
"They don't know what they can touch—and what they should never lay a finger on."
"It's time someone teaches them what 'cruelty' means."
Just then, a brutal-looking big man entered the room, glanced at the black-robed figures—then at the giant who wasn't in a robe.
He spoke bluntly.
"Our boss says he wants White Ghost's corpse."
"And the potion formula."
"No problem," a fat man in a black robe answered easily. "The corpse and the formula can both be yours."
The big man nodded in satisfaction. "Then it's settled. Our boss agrees—you can operate under his banner."
He left immediately.
If he stayed any longer, he felt like he'd die on the spot—because that terrifying-looking bastard's face was already turning ugly.
Shura's voice dripped with mockery again.
"You let that trash talk to you like that? Heh. Truly fallen."
"We don't have a choice," the fat man said. "The World Government is watching too closely. If anything is off, they'll hunt us like mad."
Shura's eyes reddened. "Everything we lost will be taken back—piece by piece."
—
Why did Pieklo hate White Ghost so much?
He'd sent someone over first: Hand over the potion formula, and we won't make things hard for you.
White Ghost knocked the messenger out with one slap, tossed him into the ship's basement, and used him as a test subject for medicine.
Then, through Morgans, White Ghost found Pieklo's Den Den Mushi number, called him, and said only one sentence:
"Bring it."
That single line made Pieklo furious enough to send assassin after assassin after assassin.
At first, the crew endured endless attempts—assassins posing as civilians, as slaves, all kinds of disguises.
White Ghost didn't say much.
He just told his crew: the world was like this.
If you didn't stay sharp, one day you'd be killed by a random passerby.
From then on, his crew stayed on high alert.
Elena and the other women usually stayed close to White Ghost, so they were safe.
But the crew still killed countless assassins.
When Pieklo realized ordinary people couldn't hurt them anymore, he placed a bounty on White Ghost.
In the black market, White Ghost's head was set at two billion berries, drawing bounty hunters and underworld predators like flies.
Uta and the others treated them as experience packs and farmed them clean.
White Ghost even mocked the man—calling his hires "trash."
Enel and the others grew stronger through the attacks, so White Ghost didn't intervene.
If it helped his crew grow, he welcomed more.
But lately, that side had gone quiet.
Now it seemed clear: they'd been preparing something big.
A "surprise," meant to make White Ghost jump.
—
At dawn, White Ghost and the others woke on a mountaintop, eating breakfast while watching the sunrise.
"Honestly, relaxing once in a while really helps your mindset," Ain said, sipping porridge while gazing at the sea.
"A lot of people chase sword techniques," White Ghost said calmly, smoke curling from his lips. "I think insight into your own mind matters just as much."
"I've always told you—train your sword, but don't neglect your heart."
"When you finally feel the benefit, you'll understand what I mean."
Ain nodded. She felt it now.
Before, she'd been desperate to force her way into becoming a great swordsman, and she'd left too much behind.
Now that she'd put down that impatience, she still wasn't there yet—but her understanding of the sword had deepened.
"Letting go of obsession…" Bai Hezi murmured, looking at Tenha Habakiri in her hands.
Had she been burdened by too many things before, so her sword had stayed stuck in place?
ZZT—!
A bolt of lightning dropped in front of White Ghost.
Nami lifted her chin. "White Ghost, I want to practice swordsmanship too!"
White Ghost chuckled, rubbing her head. "Good girl—but swords don't suit you. Your weapon will be ready soon."
"Oh…" Nami didn't argue. She quietly squatted beside them, keeping White Ghost company as they watched the sunrise.
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