Several days later — G12 Marine Base jurisdiction, Patrol Sector Three
The sun blazed overhead.
The sky was cloudless, and the sea lay smooth as a mirror, reflecting dazzling white light.
A standard single-mast patrol ship followed its assigned route, carrying out the same routine patrol it had performed countless times before.
On deck, Lieutenant Roman Peck leaned against the railing, sipping the hot coffee a duty soldier had just brewed.
Even a man known for his strict—and sometimes rigid—discipline couldn't help relaxing in weather like this.
"What a… peaceful day."
After three full days of patrol, they hadn't seen a single pirate ship.
Not even a suspicious fishing boat.
"It seems the petty criminals in these waters know the authority of G12 Base and don't dare show their faces."
There was a hint of pride in Peck's voice.
The nearby private quickly chimed in.
"That's right, Lieutenant! I heard several merchant guilds recently sent letters thanking the base because the trade routes have been much safer."
"Hmph. Naturally."
"Upholding justice and maintaining order at sea is the duty of the Marines."
Peck straightened his back.
Then, as usual, he looked up toward the lookout tower.
"Paul! Even if it's the last day of patrol, don't slack off up there!"
"Stay alert! Especially when the sea looks calm—never lower your guard!"
"Cough! Y-Yes, Lieutenant!"
Up in the lookout tower, the observer Paul nearly jumped.
He had been secretly feeding breadcrumbs to a seagull.
Flustered, he straightened up and grabbed his telescope, pretending to scan the sea.
"Hmph."
Peck nodded in satisfaction and took another sip of coffee.
"Remaining vigilant is always the correct approach."
"The calmer the sea looks, the stronger the currents beneath may be."
"Yes, Lieutenant. But this patrol really has been smooth. Looks like we'll be returning to port soon for some rest—"
Before the private finished speaking—
Paul suddenly shouted.
"Report, Lieutenant! Unknown vessel spotted ahead! Ten o'clock direction! Wait… that flag…"
Peck's eyes sharpened instantly.
He set his coffee down and strode toward the bow.
"Can you identify the flag? Merchant vessel or—"
"Report! I-It's a pink jellyfish skull flag! It's the Jellyfish Pirates!"
"What?!"
Peck's heart dropped.
A chill shot down his spine—mixed with a surge of excitement.
He grabbed the high-powered telescope from his adjutant.
Through the lens, he saw it clearly.
A sleek three-masted ship racing northwest with sails full of wind.
On its sail—
The pink jellyfish skull emblem shone brightly under the sun.
The Jellyfish Pirates.
Predator — Riberra Sami.
"It's really them!" murmurs spread across the deck.
"The crew whose total bounty exceeds 400 million Berries…"
"Weren't they rumored to have been destroyed near Jaya Island?"
"How are they here?!"
"The extremists who attacked Drum Kingdom and Alabasta…"
400 million Berries.
For a medium patrol ship like theirs, that number was astronomical.
The strongest fighter aboard was only a base lieutenant.
"Lieutenant… what should we do?"
Peck was a seasoned officer.
He suppressed the shock and excitement pounding in his chest.
His heated thoughts cooled quickly.
"Battle stations, level one!"
"Gunners to positions! Load live ammunition!"
"Without my command, no one fires!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Helmsman—adjust course!"
"Shadow the Jellyfish Pirates, but maintain a safe distance!"
"Do not enter the range of their main cannons!"
Then he lowered his voice.
"Communications officer! Contact base immediately! Emergency transmission!"
G12 Marine Base
The base sat atop a massive reef formation.
It guarded several busy trade routes and normally handled routine duties:
Monitoring the sea, suppressing minor pirates, and protecting merchant traffic.
Now it lay under the blazing afternoon sun.
Several medium warships rested quietly in port.
Everything seemed orderly—almost lazy.
Inside the base commander's office, Rear Admiral Gal Basquerville was dozing while facing the training grounds outside.
BANG!
The door slammed open.
A communications officer rushed in without even knocking.
"Rear Admiral Basquerville! Emergency report!"
The snoring stopped instantly.
Basquerville opened his eyes and stretched lazily.
"The sun makes a man sleepy… What is it?"
"Lieutenant Peck reports sighting the Jellyfish Pirates in Patrol Sector Three!"
"Confirmed identification of Predator Riberra Sami! They are sailing northwest!"
"What?!"
Basquerville jumped to his feet.
Any remaining drowsiness vanished instantly.
"The Jellyfish Pirates?! Those lawless bastards?!"
"Wasn't Headquarters suggesting they might have been destroyed already?!"
Without hesitation, he grabbed the Justice cloak from the rack and threw it over his shoulders.
"Sound the battle alarm!"
"All ships in port prepare for departure within ten minutes!"
"Destination: Patrol Sector Three!"
As he strode out, he added to the communications officer:
"Inform Peck's patrol ship to keep them in sight!"
"But maintain absolute safe distance!"
"Under no circumstances are they to engage or open fire!"
"One patrol ship cannot handle them!"
"Tell that stubborn fool Peck this is a direct order!"
"Yes, sir!"
The battle alarm echoed across the entire port.
The calm afternoon atmosphere shattered instantly.
Three medium warships unfurled their sails.
Sailors flooded onto the decks like a rising tide.
Rear Admiral Basquerville boarded his flagship.
The sea wind whipped his Justice cloak behind him.
"So Headquarters' earlier assumption was overly optimistic…"
"These dangerous scum are still alive."
He narrowed his eyes toward the open sea.
"Good."
"This time, G12 Base will bring their crimes to an end."
"In the name of justice—full speed ahead!"
Meanwhile — On the Arrowfish
In stark contrast to the tense Marines…
The Arrowfish's deck was peaceful under the sun.
Kahailuo stood before a group of sailors, patiently demonstrating simple hand gestures.
"Watch carefully."
"This sign means large enemy force ahead."
"This one means danger—retreat immediately."
"And this means request support here."
His goal was to teach the crew a simplified sign language system.
This way they could communicate more easily with Alberto, who could not speak.
Unfortunately—
The results were less than ideal.
"This is complicated!" Ardo scratched his head.
"I learn these gestures today, then forget half of them after sleeping!"
"Being a mute—uh, I mean someone who can't speak—must be a real pain for daily communication!"
Suddenly his eyes lit up.
He turned toward the ship's doctor, who was drying herbs nearby.
"Hey! Hiriluk!"
"You're a doctor, right?"
"Why not figure out a way to make Alberto speak again?"
"Wouldn't that be easier than learning hand signs?"
"That's right, Doctor Hiriluk!"
Several sailors who had been struggling with the hand signals joined in.
"Even if doctors in the West Blue can't do it…"
"The Grand Line is huge!"
"There must be some strange medicine or miracle cure out there!"
"Exactly! Learning this stuff every day is exhausting!"
The deck buzzed with hopeful voices.
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