Inside the ship of the Morgan Pirates.
The bottom deck was piled high with all sorts of clutter. The stench of stale alcohol mixed with the salty tang of the sea filled the dim space. Outside, the waves crashed rhythmically against the hull with muffled thuds. Being trapped in such an enclosed environment for too long could put a heavy strain on the mind, especially for those imprisoned within.
Selkirk and his men were confined there, tightly bound by chains and ropes. Sparse rations and miserable conditions left them gaunt and haggard.
Barbarossa had clearly held captives before. The hold had been modified into a row of crude cells, each divided by wooden walls with only an iron-barred door through which the prisoners could glimpse the outside.
William sat in a chair brought over by his men, positioned right in front of the cells where every captive could see him. He smoked unhurriedly, legs crossed, eyes half-closed as he studied them through the haze, his thoughts unreadable.
Two pirates approached the cell doors to provide food and water. Yet the portions were deliberately meager, just enough to keep the captives alive: a scrap of bread and half a bowl of water.
Bound in chains, unable to use their hands, the prisoners could only crouch and lap it up like animals. Washing was impossible, and the area stank from filth.
One captive from the Swordfish Pirates shoved his plate and bowl toward the bars, glaring at William with eyes full of hate. He shouted, "If you're going to kill us, then do it already! Stop humiliating us like this!"
He strained so hard to push his head through the bars it looked as though he wanted to bite William's throat.
William acted as though he had not heard. He remained unmoved. After the pirates finished distributing the rations, he smoked two more cigarettes before finally leaving, never once speaking a word to the captives.
When William emerged onto the deck, Clow and Harden came to meet him.
Clow asked, "Are you just going to keep those men locked up forever? You've already taken the Devil Fruit."
William tapped his temple with the hand holding his cigarette. "They came back from the Grand Line. They even crossed the Calm Belt. What they carry in their heads is no less valuable than a Devil Fruit."
"They're nothing but deserters. I didn't think you'd value them so highly." Clow curled his lip. To him, a Devil Fruit's worth was beyond question, while Selkirk and his companions were merely defeated cowards. Duped by their own men, stranded on a deserted island and nearly starved to death, they seemed laughably incompetent. How could they compare to a Devil Fruit?
William gave him a cool glance. "That's why I'm the captain, and you're just the purser."
Clow immediately fell silent. Harden, seeing Clow humbled, gave a raspy laugh and asked, "So what do we do with those captives?"
"Separate them. Lock them up one by one so they can't talk to each other. I want to isolate them mentally," William ordered as he walked toward the captain's cabin. "Then cut their rations further. Starve them a few more days. If they still have the energy to shout, then they haven't been starved enough."
He thought for a moment, then pointed out the captive who had insulted him earlier. "Tomorrow, after their meal, separate them. That one, the loudmouth, gets no food at all. And make sure the others see it."
The interrogations had already revealed that Selkirk and his men were from the North Sea and had been to the Grand Line. The knowledge they carried could help William learn about other seas. Moreover, they were not from the East Blue. On this sea and this ship, they had no connections, which made them ideal recruits if broken and absorbed. Bringing them in could also balance the crew's structure.
When they reached the cabin door, they found Diego, the helmsman, waiting there with a shifty, restless look.
William chuckled. "Why so sneaky on our own ship?"
His tone was warm, and his words carefully chosen. Saying "our" and "own" made the relationship sound closer.
In truth, before William became captain, he and Diego had never been especially close. He was far less familiar than with Hutchinson, the old sailor who had guided William back when he was a rookie, or Harden, with whom William had fought side by side against Zepp.
But William's friendly attitude now made Diego feel valued. Certainly more so than when Felton had tried to recruit him with empty flattery, only to storm off angrily when Diego hesitated and even stingily snatched back his bottle on the way out.
Diego's face, however, was serious. He wanted to highlight the gravity of his words. "Captain, Felton is getting restless."
"Oh? And what's he done?" William asked calmly, still smiling. His demeanor was like a mountain unmoved by an avalanche. "Let's talk inside."
Diego followed without a word, secretly impressed by William's composure. If it had been Barbarossa or Felton, they would have erupted, demanding details in a fit of rage. Diego even suspected that if William heard the ship was surrounded by the Navy, he would still show little outward distress.
As a veteran, Diego did not naively believe William was as calm inside as he looked. But this appearance of confidence mattered. For the crew, it meant everything. To Diego, William's steady, calculating presence was far more reassuring than Felton's petty scheming and hot-headed temper.
Inside the captain's quarters, William did not rush to question him. Instead, he took out four glasses, personally poured wine for Clow, Harden, and Diego, and only then filled his own. He sat casually on the desk and asked, "So what has that fool Felton done?"
Clow and Harden, who had felt uneasy after Diego's warning, relaxed at William's measured actions and turned their attention to Diego.
Diego said, "He's been rallying some of the older pirates, trying to gather a group to leave the crew. He just approached me."
"No brains," William sneered after taking a sip. "And he's asking for trouble."
Even when plotting against Barbarossa, William had never been so blatant about recruiting men. Back then, he had still been the only navigator on the ship.
William had intended to wait before dealing with Felton's faction. But it seemed Felton was impatient to bring about his own downfall.
Would a man like William, skilled at undermining others and consolidating power, allow someone else to undermine him?
He swirled his glass and smiled at Clow and Harden. "It looks like before we recruit those prisoners, we'll need to clean out the unstable elements on this ship and 'unite' our crew properly."
Clow was already deeply tied to William's interests, and Harden had also been working tirelessly these past days, handling affairs for him. The crew largely saw Harden as William's trusted man.
Both were firmly aligned with William. Harden asked without hesitation, "What do we do?"
William replied with a smile, "What did I say back on the deck?"
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