Sailing between white clouds and flying birds, the Eclipse's massive black hull reflected a cold metallic luster. Since departing from the skies of Water 7, this steel behemoth had been cruising steadily at an altitude of several thousand meters, cutting a straight line toward the Florian Triangle.
Inside the cockpit, Carina had her eyes closed, her mind immersed in the invisible network woven by her scouting birds. On her shoulder, the parrot Berries suddenly flapped its wings.
"Gah! Fight! Big movement below!" Berries shrieked.
Carina snapped her eyes open, a ripple of light appearing in her pupils as she processed the visual feedback from a seabird. She turned to Ace.
"Captain, there's a large armed merchant ship directly below us. Someone is attacking it single-handedly!"
"Probably just pirates plundering a haul," Ace replied, uninterested in playing the hero. "We'll pass over it."
"No, the situation is specific," Carina countered, cross-referencing her mental database. "That's a high-level slaver ship. The attacker has moved all the slaves onto lifeboats and stayed behind to cover their retreat. He's being pinned down by some heavy-duty guards. It looks bad."
At the mention of "slaver ship," Sabo's expression darkened, his grip tightening on his alloy staff. Ace raised an eyebrow, a hint of genuine interest appearing in his gaze.
"Lower the ship. Let's see what kind of tough nut is throwing his life away for a group of strangers."
On the sea below, the tranquility of the blue water was shattered by a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. In the center of the carnage stood a tall, broad figure: a Fishman with rough, grey-blue skin and deep gill slits. Half of his face was hidden by a black mask, and his dark martial arts uniform was shredded and soaked in crimson.
Boom!
A heavy kick, coated in pitch-black Armament Haki, slammed into the Fishman's chest. The force sent him plowing ten meters across the deck, snapping a mizzenmast. He spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with organ fragments but refused to fall.
He wiped his mouth, his inverted triangular eyes—cold as stagnant water—fixing on his opponent. Above the mask, his features pulled into a grin of primal madness.
"As expected of a guard hired by the World Government. That kick had weight."
Standing before him was a Head Guard in ceremonial robes, a master of the Six Powers and Haki. "You let those priceless goods escape," the guard hissed. "Even if I sold your worthless life by the pound, it wouldn't cover the losses!"
The guard exploded forward in a sonic boom. The Fishman didn't flinch. He dug his feet into the bloody planks and slammed his palms together.
"Fishman Karate: Seven Thousand Tile True Punch!"
A high-pressure jet of water, compressed to the density of steel, lunged at the guard. The guard sneered, his Haki-clad leg slicing through the water jet and connecting with the Fishman's chest. The force tore away the mask and the tattered uniform.
Under the sunlight, the Fishman's face—revealing rows of sharp shark teeth—was exposed. More importantly, a bright red brand on his broad chest was revealed.
The Head Guard froze, then burst into a mocking laugh.
"That sun-shaped tattoo... I wondered where a stray Fishman came from. You're a remnant of the Sun Pirates!" The guard's voice was full of contempt. "Fisher Tiger was a piece of trash who died because he couldn't get a blood transfusion. Why aren't you like Jinbe, kneeling before the Government like a good dog for food? Why play this laughable game of saving people?"
The words were like poisoned salt in an old wound. The Great White Shark Fishman's movements stalled. He didn't roar; his eyes simply reflected the clear sky.
He had become a wanderer, despising Jinbe's compromise and Arlong's corruption. He found meaning only in the cold slaughter of those who carried shackles.
"Heh... a wandering wild dog can still tear out a throat," he chuckled. Ignoring his bleeding chest, he pressed his palms to the deck. His Fishman Jujutsu bypassed the ship's hull, locking onto the majestic abyss beneath.
"Repent for your arrogance. Fishman Jujutsu Secret Technique: Dance of the Great Water Prison!!!"
With a sound like a collapsing fault line, millions of tons of seawater reversed gravity. A massive, dome-shaped prison of water rose from the sea, enclosing the ship and its occupants in a sun-blotted sphere.
The high-density water stripped away the air. The Head Guard, suffocating and trapped, lunged at the Fishman. "Go to hell! I'll pierce your skin before I drown!"
But as the guard's leg swung, a cluster of red-gold light flared above the water sphere.
Aboard the Eclipse, Ace stood at the bow. He clenched his right fist. Flowing Ryuo and high-temperature divine fire condensed into a point of scorching aurora.
"Vermilion Bird: Sky-Splitting Wave!"
Ace punched downward.
A highly condensed beam of heat and Haki pierced the sky. It sliced through the water prison, vaporizing a vacuum channel through the sea before striking the guard Captain's chest with pinpoint accuracy.
The guard's Haki disintegrated instantly. He died before he could feel the heat. The thrust punched through his body and the ship's deck, sending him into the abyss. The water prison, its source of focus shattered, collapsed in a heaven-shaking waterfall.
On the ruined deck, the exhausted Fishman sat amidst the wreckage, coughing up blood. A figure in a dark red trench coat descended from the sky, landing on the bow.
"To save people you didn't know, you used a suicidal tactic. You've got a tough temper," Ace said, reaching out a hand.
A cluster of crimson-gold fire lit up in Ace's palm. He pressed it into the Fishman's chest. The tearing pain vanished, replaced by the surging vitality of Nirvana.
"What do you mean, sir?" the Fishman asked, his voice filled with bewilderment.
"For scum I don't like, I don't waste words; I just bite their throats out. You happen to suit my taste perfectly," Ace said, looking at the sun tattoo. "I am Ace. Since you have nowhere to go, get on my ship!"
Ace pointed to the black warship hovering above. "I don't talk about grand principles like racial equality. Get on my ship, help me seize the throne of the King of the World, and crush all the obstacles in our way!"
The Fishman, who had roamed the underground as the bounty hunter "Ghost Shark" Shark, stared at the young man. For a decade, he had seen only compromise or corruption. This was the first time he had heard someone speak of world conquest as a simple matter of fact.
Shark grinned, revealing his interlocking teeth. He forced his massive, three-meter-tall body to stand straight and performed a deep-sea bow.
"Since you can tolerate my bloodlust, this life is at Mr. Ace's disposal."
Back on the Eclipse, Shark's presence drew immediate attention.
"Gray-blue Shark skin, three meters tall," Carina noted, looking at her notebook. "The underground hunter 'Ghost Shark' Shark. I never expected you were the one sinking slave ships in the storms."
"Shark is fine," he replied politely, his refined tone contrasting sharply with his predatory face.
"Tell me," Ace said. "Your Karate is too orthodox for a wild pirate."
"Yes. I was a combatant for the Sun Pirates. I believed Fisher Tiger's dream. But when he was betrayed by the humans he saved and bled to death... I saw the truth. This world is built on hypocrisy."
Shark exhaled a cold breath. "Jinbe compromised for a 'Warlord' dog collar. Arlong fled to the East Blue to bully civilians. I couldn't follow either path, so I became a ghost, sinking ships to commemorate Boss Tiger's 'foolishness'."
The crew listened in silence. Sabo, who shared a hatred for the privileged class, understood the emptiness of a light extinguished.
"From today on, you aren't a hidden rat," Ace handed Shark a glass of rum. "On this ship, we don't talk about hypocritical peace. You are the naval warfare commander. The sea is yours."
Shark downed the rum in one gulp. The shackles of his past finally fell away. The Eclipse Pirates had found their underwater blade.
"Course is confirmed," Carina announced, opening the nautical chart.
The massive warship plunged into the dense, sunless fog of the most famous blind zone in the Grand Line. The Florian Triangle was in sight.
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