Ren and Shakky arrived properly at Fish-Man Island as travelers this time, stepping beyond the docks and into the lower districts where the glow of coral failed to hide decay. The beauty of the kingdom remained, but cracks ran beneath it like fractures under glass.
Shakky adjusted her coat and scanned the streets carefully.
"Well… looks like Fish-Man Island isn't doing very well," she muttered.
Ren said nothing at first.
Eyes followed them.
Not with welcome.
With suspicion. With fear. With the quiet calculation of people who had been hunted too many times to assume kindness.
His fists clenched at his sides.
Veins surfaced along his forearms, muscle tightening under controlled fury. He could hear it—the whispers, the tension in heartbeats, the unease carried in breath.
"This is before Whitebeard claimed it…" Ren said quietly.
Shakky glanced at him.
"Yeah. No Yonko flag means open season."
Slave traders moved carefully here. Not openly. Not loudly. But they were present. Humans who dealt in chains always found cracks to slip through.
Ren closed his eyes.
He could hear crying somewhere in the distance.
He could hear fear.
"Shakky," he said calmly, though something colder had entered his voice, "prepare the ship for the New World. I'll be back."
She studied him carefully.
"Don't take too long."
"I won't."
She exhaled slowly.
"You're not planning something reckless, are you?"
Ren opened his eyes.
They were shadowed.
"No. I'm planning something necessary."
Shakky didn't stop him.
She was strong enough to handle herself, and she knew it. But this version of Ren… this wasn't the detached traveler she'd grown used to. This was something sharper.
He stepped off the dock and walked toward the darker quarters of the island.
As he moved, fox ears emerged subtly from his hair. His pupils sharpened, gold and predatory. A partial transformation—controlled, deliberate.
The air around him shimmered faintly.
Illusions bent light and perception, wrapping around him like a cloak. To anyone watching, he simply wasn't there.
He listened.
He didn't need to search blindly. His Observation Haki expanded outward, brushing against consciousness like a silent hand. Conversations drifted toward him.
"…shipment leaves tonight…"
"…Ryugu guards won't interfere…"
"…backers on the surface are paying triple…"
Ren's eyes narrowed.
"Found you."
---
The warehouse near the lower coral cliffs was disguised as a storage facility for shell exports. Inside, however, chained Fish-Men and Merfolk sat in silence.
Human voices laughed nearby.
Ren stepped through the wall like mist, illusions masking even the sound of his presence.
One trader scratched his beard.
"Shipment's light this month."
"Doesn't matter," another replied. "Surface nobles are desperate for exotic pieces."
Ren's jaw tightened.
He allowed the illusion to drop—just enough.
A shadow flickered across the wall.
One of the traders froze.
"Did you see that?"
"See what?"
Ren appeared behind them.
Tall. Silent. Fox eyes glowing faintly.
"What the—?"
Before they could draw weapons, pressure descended—not Conqueror's, but something heavier. Killing intent compressed the air.
"Who are your backers?" Ren asked calmly.
The men trembled.
"W-We don't—"
Ren's eyes flashed.
Illusions invaded their senses. The warehouse shifted into a nightmare—walls melting into darkness, chains tightening around their own limbs, the sound of drowning filling their ears.
"WHO ARE YOUR BACKERS?" Ren's voice echoed unnaturally.
"G-Guild brokers in the New World!"
"Names."
They spilled everything.
Sea routes. Hidden ports. Ciphered contacts. Bribes paid to corrupt guards. Even the timing of the outgoing ship.
Ren listened to every word.
He altered their perception gently after that.
"You have captured enough slaves," he whispered into their minds.
"Yes…" one trader muttered blankly. "Enough…"
"Prepare to leave."
They moved mechanically.
Ren turned toward the chained Fish-Men.
He knelt.
The chains fell apart as magnetic force twisted metal like paper.
One Fish-Man stared at him.
"Who… are you?"
Ren's illusion softened his features, blurring his face beyond memory.
"No one," he replied.
He broke every shackle in seconds.
"Go home."
They ran.
---
A slave trader ship departed Fish-Man Island under the false belief of success. Its hull was reinforced for pressure, coated properly for ascent through deep waters.
Ren stood on a coral outcrop overlooking the dark ocean trench.
Shakky's voice crackled faintly through a Den Den Mushi.
"You're late."
"Almost done."
"You found them?"
"Yes."
"Alive?"
"For now."
He ended the call.
The ship moved steadily upward.
Ren extended his arm.
Lightning condensed along his fox-transformed limb, crackling in concentrated arcs. A coin appeared between his fingers.
He flicked it upward.
Magnetism coiled around it.
Energy compressed.
One of the traders on deck felt something.
"…why does it feel—"
A blue-white flash tore through the water.
"Railgun."
The coin accelerated beyond sound.
It pierced the ship from stern to bow, vaporizing everything in its path. The ocean exploded inward as the hull ruptured violently.
Inside the collapsing vessel, panic erupted.
"What the hell was that?!"
"We're breached! We're—"
Water flooded in instantly.
At ten thousand meters below sea level, pressure was absolute. The reinforced coating shattered under sudden imbalance.
The ship imploded.
Silence returned to the trench.
Ren exhaled slowly.
His arm trembled.
Skin had torn along his forearm from recoil. Even with Armament Haki coating his limb, the kinetic backlash had been immense.
"Damn…"
Regeneration began immediately.
Mythical Zoan vitality pulsed through his cells, sealing ruptured tissue and restoring damaged muscle.
He flexed his fingers.
"Still not strong enough."
Shakky appeared behind him, having followed discreetly.
"You're insane."
Ren didn't turn.
"They were leaving."
"You could've just let the sea handle them."
"I did."
She crossed her arms.
"That attack wasn't subtle."
"No one saw."
She studied the distant debris sinking into darkness.
Midway through the implosion, one trader had managed to cling to a floating fragment. Ren had noticed.
The man surfaced briefly in the protective coating bubble.
"You! You did this!" the trader screamed as Ren approached across the water's surface using magnetized debris.
"Yes," Ren replied calmly.
"You think this changes anything?! There are dozens like us!"
"I know."
"You're just one man!"
Ren's fox eyes glowed.
"That's enough."
A small arc of lightning struck the fragment.
The trader convulsed and fell.
The sea claimed him.
---
Ren returned to the island outskirts quietly.
Every freed captive had been escorted home under illusion. None remembered his face. None could describe him.
He gathered the intelligence he'd extracted and compressed it into written records, sealed and delivered anonymously to Ryugu Palace through indirect channels.
"With that information," he murmured, "Fish-Man Island should remain peaceful for a year or two."
Shakky leaned beside him.
"You just destabilized an entire trafficking ring."
"Good."
"You don't do things halfway, do you?"
"No."
He looked toward Ryugu Palace, its grandeur shining above the city.
"Two years," he said quietly.
Shakky raised an eyebrow.
"For what?"
"To become strong enough."
"For revenge?"
"For change."
He turned fully toward the palace now.
"This land doesn't need to wait for Joy Boy to take them to the open sea."
His eyes burned.
"I will do it."
Shakky watched him carefully.
"Well… who would have thought you had that protective side to you?" she muttered softly. "You really are an interesting man, Ren."
He didn't respond.
She tilted her head slightly.
"I really wonder who the Kuja woman you mentioned is…"
Ren glanced at her briefly.
"Someone important."
Shakky smirked faintly.
"Of course."
Minutes later, they returned to the ship.
The coating shimmered as preparations for departure began.
Fish-Man Island glowed peacefully behind them—for now.
As the vessel angled toward the path leading into the New World, Ren stood at the bow once more.
Shakky lit another cigarette.
"You're stepping into chaos next."
"I know."
"You ready?"
Ren's gaze sharpened.
"Yes."
The ship moved forward.
Above them, the world remained unaware.
But currents were shifting.
And thunder had already begun to gather.