Port Shoreline.
Hundreds of hunters had gathered, each one tall, broad-shouldered, and armed to the teeth with spears and bows, a palpable aura of killing intent hanging in the salty sea air.
"Tell me, what exactly happened last night?"
Archer stood at the forefront, head held high, his sharp gaze fixed on someone aboard a pirate ship moored nearby.
"Last night?"
From the deck rail of the Triangle, Vito blinked, his mismatched eyes, one large and one small, twitching with feigned confusion. "Wasn't there an earthquake or something? You're saying something else happened too?"
Unmoved by the act, Archer casually gestured behind him with a thumb. His voice was cold but calm. "I found the corpses of your crewmates at the altar. Nearly a hundred dead. Meanwhile, behind me stand four hundred and seventy-four elite hunters, each one capable of taking down a jungle wolf single-handedly."
Vito's expression darkened at the implicit threat. He was just about to snap back when reality hit: the current state of his crew was miserable.
Truth was, after the brutal skirmish at the altar, over a hundred men, including regular crewmates, elite fighters, and even officers, had perished. Of the seventeen left to guard the mausoleum's entrance, only seven had managed to flee back alive. Less than thirty were left aboard the Triangle.
And while Vito himself, thanks to his Zoan-type Mythical Beast Fruit, had recovered quickly from the night's exertions, the rest weren't as lucky. Rock, Marcus, and the others were still wrapped in blood-stained bandages. If things went south here, the outnumbered and battered Triangle Pirates could be wiped out entirely.
"We were guarding a treasure. You came looking for it. A fight broke out. That's all there is to it."
Vito crossed his arms, his voice indifferent, gaze tilted away with feigned nonchalance.
"Guarding a treasure? What treasure?"
Archer and Andrei exchanged puzzled looks. Hunters behind them murmured in confusion. The so-called treasure was supposed to be a legend, what were they guarding exactly?
"You're seriously telling me…"
Rock, his upper body swathed in white bandages, started to snap back, but something struck him as wrong. His expression shifted in disbelief. "Wait… You don't know about the treasure in the mausoleum?"
"The mausoleum's treasure?! Isn't that just an old legend?"
Archer and Andrei both looked thunderstruck. Murmurs rippled through the gathered hunters like wind through tall grass.
"Wait, don't tell me you actually found that legendary treasure?" Archer asked, incredulous.
"I thought you were its guardians. Don't tell me only those five guys knew about it?!"
Vito, too, sensed something was off. These locals… even the two leaders… they genuinely had no idea about the treasure. Could it be that only those five knew the truth?
"Hold on. Let me get this straight."
Archer raised a hand, his brow furrowed as he tried to piece it together. "You guys went to the altar… found the legendary treasure… and Chief Headhunter and the other three knew about it, maybe even guarded it. So you fought. That's what happened?"
"Exactly. There were five of them," Vito confirmed with a nod. "They were the last descendants of the Gamas Kingdom, sworn to protect the treasure beneath the mausoleum for generations. And apparently, you lot… you're also descended from that kingdom."
The map was likely already in the hands of that monster named Aeridar, and the key wouldn't be far behind. At this point, it didn't matter if the others knew. No one here could stop that thing.
"Five of them… then the mayor must be dead too."
Andrei's face hardened.
"There really is a treasure? And we didn't even know about it?!"
"If we're all descendants of the same kingdom… were the mayor's group nobles while we're just commoners?"
"Does that mean we've been protecting them all this time, without even knowing it?"
"They probably already took the treasure!"
As Vito confirmed their suspicions, murmurs turned to loud grumbling. The crowd of hunters grew restless.
Had it not been for the ancient village law forbidding anyone from leaving Alvis Island, a rule that kept most of them detached from material greed, the scene might've turned into an all-out raid.
"The key to the treasure is in their hands. The map? It's with me. You people... have nothing to do with it."
The voice was calm, almost indifferent, but it came from above.
Everyone looked up.
There, standing atop the Triangle's mainmast, was a young man dressed in a black coat patterned with white sea-wave crests, regal and ominous, like a storm on the horizon.
"I knew it," Vito whispered, pupils constricting. Despite the faint smile on his face, his nerves were taut as wire. "Of course you would get your hands on the map."
"Who are you?"
Archer asked warily. He'd been out hunting in the forest yesterday and went to bed early, never getting a chance to learn about this new pirate crew. But he could feel it, the suffocating, beast-like presence emanating from the man above. More terrifying than any predator on the island.
The young man bowed slightly, refined and composed, as though he'd been raised in a palace rather than born to the sea.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said with a warm, razor-edged smile.
"I am Chris T. Aeridar, Captain of the Chris Pirates."
Before Archer could respond, Aeridar stepped forward again, his tone calm but firm:
"I advise you to back down. Once things escalate, caught between three pirate crews, you won't stand a chance."
Pirates.
No sooner had he spoken than a cacophony of shouting erupted from the shoreline. From the other side of the bay, hundreds of vicious-looking men swarmed forward, each clad in flamboyant, chaotic attire, unmistakably pirates.
Out at sea, several pirate ships had already swung open the covers on their gunports. Dark cannons now pointed menacingly at the town.
A voice rang out from the crowd.
"You'd do well to heed Boss Aeridar's advice. That treasure isn't meant for you."
The speaker was Enrod, resting a snow-white katana across his shoulder, standing at the forefront of the gathering pirates.
Andrei gripped his massive axe tighter, voice rough and wary:
"Spare me the lecture. Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
Enrod calmly stroked the hilt of his blade, eyes locking with Andrei's.
"Captain of the White Mane Pirates, Lard Enrod."
As a pirate captain himself, Enrod had his pride. If not for joining forces under Aeridar's banner, he would've already cut the man down for standing in his way.
"White Mane Pirates… the White Mane Swordsman, Enrod…"
Vito's eyes narrowed slightly, mind racing. So he's thrown in with that monster after all…
"Three pirate crews…"
The weight of the situation finally settled in. Both Archer and Andrei felt a chill crawl down their spines as they glanced back at the warships bristling with cannons. Their faces darkened.
"We're pulling out."
Faced with overwhelming firepower and the risk of dragging the town into a full-scale battle, Archer and his group understood their position, completely outmatched.
If they fought now, the town would be caught in the crossfire. Better to retreat and leave things be. After all, the treasure meant nothing to them if everyone ended up dead.
So, just as quickly as they had arrived, the fierce-looking group stormed in, and left just as abruptly, their withdrawal messy and subdued.
"Thanks for the help—wait, where'd he go…?"
Vito turned toward the mainmast, but the figure who'd been perched there had already vanished.
"No need for thanks. We're pirates, after all."
A familiar voice echoed from behind.
Vito nearly jumped out of his skin and spun around, only to see Aeridar standing right in front of him, calm as ever.
"Why help me?" Vito asked plainly, locking eyes with him.
"I need your strength," Aeridar replied, tone even. "We both gain from working together."
Understanding dawned on Vito. A faint grin tugged at his lips.
"Then let's make it a good partnership."
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