Karol pulled out his notebook.
"All the intel's in," he reported. "Right now, power in the New World is consolidating fast."
"The three major forces are the Big Mom Pirates, the Steam Pirates, and the Golden Lion's Flying Pirates."
"It's a three-way split. Most of the territory is carved up between these three."
"Among them, the Big Mom Pirates—thanks to Charlotte Linlin's overwhelming strength and the fact that she's kept out of major conflicts with the Marines these past years—are currently the strongest and hold the largest domain."
"Next is the territory under Golden Lion. After we wiped out most of his fleet last time, he lost a huge chunk of islands, which were quickly snatched up by other powers. But recently, Golden Lion resurfaced and bloodied the Galipen Archipelago, reclaiming a good deal of land with ruthless force. He hasn't shown any signs of further expansion, though. Instead, he's been scouring the seas for scientists—whole teams have been abducted and dragged off to his territory, never to be seen again."
"Last, the Steam Pirates. Their original turf sat right where Whitebeard, Golden Lion, and Big Mom's spheres of influence collided. They were squeezed from all sides. But after the Battle of Sguri, with Whitebeard killed and most of Golden Lion's fleet destroyed, the Steam Pirates seized the chance to invade Whitebeard's territory. While taking over much of it, they expanded their underground network—arms dealing, shipping, loan sharking, all the dark trades of the New World. By sacrificing profits and making all sorts of shady deals, they quickly built alliances with the other powers and secured their foothold."
"These three now control the lion's share of the New World. The scraps are left to up-and-comers—pirates like Kaido the Azure Dragon, Gecko Moria, and the like. Then there are wild cards such as Red the Aloof, Baloric Redfield, and lone wolves like the Roger Pirates—powerhouses who roam the world but steer clear of the New World's turf wars."
"In short, the New World's power structure has mostly settled. The chaos after Rocks' death is finally dying down. We can start thinking about reestablishing Marine outposts in the New World."
Sakazuki considered this in silence. "No need to rush."
"How's the investigation in West Blue?"
Karol replied, "There's definitely an expedition forming in Ohara. But at this rate, they won't set sail for at least another year or two—no funding, no manpower. It's tough for a bunch of scholars to pull off alone."
Sakazuki nodded. "How's the aging process on that booklet?"
Karol handed over a battered notebook. Sakazuki flipped through it quickly—nothing seemed off. He gave it back, thinking aloud, "Let's hold onto it for now. Even if there aren't any obvious flaws, those Ohara scholars are experts at this sort of thing. They won't be easy to fool. Keep monitoring them. Wait for the right opening."
Karol nodded in agreement.
Sakazuki suddenly asked, "The soldiers on the ship—most of them have come along nicely, haven't they?"
Karol confirmed, "Pretty much. Most can use Haki proficiently. More than enough to keep the pirates of the Four Blues in check."
Sakazuki nodded. "Then let's get started. Rotate these men, along with some of the headquarters trainees, out to every branch in the Four Blues. Build up our strength and wait for the right moment. Make sure every branch gets fresh blood. If necessary, deal with any rotten commanders and install our own people directly."
He paused, then added, "But keep it under control. No more than five branch commanders dying 'accidentally' per year. The era isn't in total chaos yet—too many deaths would be suspicious…"
———
New World, Nanksha Island.
The port had already been cleared out. Only the Black Fog Pirates stood waiting.
At the head was their captain—Dean Longfellow—a Logia-type Smoke-Smoke Fruit user. His arms were crossed, thick smoke billowing from his body and condensing into his hands.
Spotting a massive ship on the horizon, his eyes sharpened. "They're here."
The ship was a blazing red, with a ferocious skull flag streaked with marks like rising steam.
It was none other than one of the New World's three titans—the Steam Pirates.
Suddenly, a figure shot from the ship.
Whoosh—!
Steam screamed through the air.
BOOM!
The figure slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
From within, a cocky, vicious voice called out, "Longfellow, have you made up your mind?"
"Join me, and you keep your territory. You only get one shot—don't overestimate yourself."
Karararara!
Longfellow's eyes narrowed. "How generous of you. The famous Steam Nock himself."
Heat waves surged from the crater, scattering the dust.
Hale Nock didn't seem to notice the mockery. "So, what's your answer, Longfellow?"
Longfellow sneered, compressing the smoke in his hands even tighter.
A wicked grin split Hale Nock's face. "Suit yourself."
BOOM!
A burst of steam and force exploded from Nock as he transformed into a two-hundred-meter-tall steam giant, looming over the Black Fog Pirates.
Longfellow snorted, "Annihilation Dust!"
He hurled the compressed smoke bomb at the giant.
BOOM!!!
It detonated against the steam giant's chest, unleashing countless fine particles that ate away at its body—half of it disintegrated in the blink of an eye.
Then, thick fog surged together, forming a giant as massive as the steam colossus, its fists coated in Armament Haki, charging at Nock.
Nock watched the assault, a cruel laugh rumbling from his chest. "Good, good."
He swelled his giant form to over three hundred meters, pinning the fog giant beneath him. Cracks spiderwebbed across the steam giant's body.
Inside the fog giant, Longfellow felt a chilling sense of doom. He shrank his form, compressing the vapor. "Dust—"
Before he could strike back, Nock's cold voice cut through the chaos.
"Volcanic Steam Execution."
Hiss—!
A shrill whistle, like a pressure cooker about to blow.
BOOM!!!!
A white mushroom cloud—half the size of the island—erupted skyward, steam surging in every direction.
Back on the Steam Pirates' ship, the crew marveled at the spectacle.
"Whoa."
"Boss is at it again."
"Poor bastards."
"Wonder how many will die this time…"
"It's always a hell of a show."
"Hey, hold up! Don't land yet!"
"The island's a death trap right now."
"Get back inside—the hot air's coming!"
"Hurry, move it!"
To the world, the Steam Pirates were known for their ruthlessness—using every trick in the book to carve out their place in the New World. Few remembered the true terror of their strength.
Almost no one realized that Hale Nock, captain of the Steam Pirates, was a master of his Devil Fruit, a monster who could wipe out entire islands in a single move.
With just one Volcanic Steam Execution, he could steam every living soul on an island to death.
Massacres, leaving no survivors—that was the Steam Pirates' calling card.
And because no one ever survived, most pirate crews had no idea how strong Hale Nock really was—and so they often ignored his invitations to join. That, too, was one of Nock's twisted pleasures: feigning weakness, then slaughtering his enemies with overwhelming force.
On the steam-shrouded beach, Longfellow lay coughing blood, surrounded by the corpses of his crew. He stared at Hale Nock in terror.
"You… how… could you…"
Cough, cough—
Blood sprayed from his lips.
Hale Nock sauntered over and crouched down, grabbing Longfellow by the hair and yanking his face up.
A manic grin split Nock's face.
"Hahahahaha! That look! That's what I live for!"
He coated his hand in Armament Haki and activated his power. Superheated steam engulfed Longfellow's head, forming a deadly hood.
As Longfellow struggled, Hale Nock's voice dripped with cruelty.
"Yes, yes, just like that! Struggle! Struggle!"
"Hahahaha!!!"
Longfellow's head turned bright red… then went limp.
Hale Nock flung him aside with a kick, then spread his arms wide and took a deep breath, savoring the thick, steamy air—whether it was vapor or something darker.
He exhaled slowly.
"Ahhh—now this… is pure bliss."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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