As the Spade ship 'Piece of Spadille' cut through the waves, the deck became a strange sort of salon. Skull, their new stowaway, was a fountain of bizarre stories, and Jerry, to everyone's surprise, was his perfect conversational partner.
"And that's how I acquired a complete set of petrified sea king droppings from a retired marine captain in the South Blue," Skull finished, his voice full of pride.
"Fascinating," Jerry said, not missing a beat. "That reminds me of a collector I once knew who specialized in antique glass eyes. Had a whole room full of them. Said they watched him while he slept."
Deuce, who was trying to plot their course on the other side of the deck, shuddered. "You're both insane," he muttered under his breath.
But Ace and Jerry saw something more. Skull wasn't just a collector of oddities; his hobby had inadvertently made him a master of information. His network wasn't just a few weirdos; it was a vast, underground web of fellow enthusiasts, hobbyists, and information brokers scattered across the world.
"You realize what you have, right?" Jerry said, leaning forward. "This isn't just a hobby. With your sources, you could become the most powerful intelligence expert on the seas!"
"An intelligence agent?" Skull mused, the idea clearly one he'd never considered.
"It doesn't conflict with your collecting at all!" Ace added enthusiastically. "Think of all the rare items you could find if you knew where to look before anyone else!"
They painted a picture so compelling, so full of adventure and rare finds, that Skull's head began to spin. It was a path he'd never imagined, but the logic was undeniable. He agreed to give it a try.
And so, with a new, self-proclaimed "Chief Intelligence Officer" aboard, the Spade Pirates charged headfirst into the Grand Line.
The first few weeks were a harsh lesson in the realities of piracy. The Grand Line's weather was unpredictable, its currents were treacherous, and its appetites were massive—especially Ace's. His love for parties and banquets meant their food supplies, which had seemed so plentiful, vanished with alarming speed.
Jerry's daily fishing yielded nothing but junk. The food shortage became so critical that, to prevent the crew from resorting to cannibalism (or at least, from eating their captain), Jerry had to take drastic measures. He began diving into the sea to hunt for their meals directly.
Thankfully, his new Fishman Karate, combined with his system-granted "Ocean Blessing," made him a terrifying predator beneath the waves. He moved with the speed and grace of a mako shark, his hands powerful enough to stun Sea Kings. He single-handedly kept the crew from starving, relying on his own two hardworking hands while the others… helped. Mostly by eating.
But it wasn't a long-term solution. They were in desperate need of a proper port.
One morning, as the sun burned through a hazy sky, Skull's voice cut through the air. "LAND HO!"
A dark shadow of an island was growing on the horizon. From the port, they could already see workers bustling about. It was a prosperous, active island. The entire crew breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"Oh, thank the seas," Skull shouted. "That's Gunnas Island! Captain, permission to go ashore and restock?"
"We have to be more careful this time," Deuce said, shooting a pointed glare at Ace. "No more using a week's worth of food for one party."
"Hey, failure is the mother of success," Jerry said sagely, trying to shirk any responsibility for his own role in encouraging the parties. "A young pirate crew must learn moderation."
"Haha, I get it, I get it," Ace said, not looking embarrassed in the slightest. "Deuce, just make sure you stock up a little extra this time." He grinned. "Alright, let's go! First priority: find a good restaurant! We can figure everything else out after a hot meal."
They docked the ship, but as they disembarked, none of them noticed several port workers stop their tasks to stare, whispering to each other before one of them broke away and disappeared down a dark alley.
"That place looks busy," Jerry said, pointing to a lively restaurant on the main street. "Good food usually means a big crowd."
A bell dinged cheerfully as they walked in.
"Welcome! Right this way, esteemed guests!" A young waiter with a round, cheerful face and a bandage on his cheek hurried over to greet them.
Before the waiter could even hand out menus, Ace snatched one. "We'll have this, this, and this!" he said, his finger jabbing at several items.
"Of course, sir," the waiter said, scribbling furiously. "Will that be all?"
Ace nodded with a huge grin. "Yep! Three servings of everything I just pointed to, and two servings of everything I didn't!"
The waiter's jaw dropped. "Sir... that's... that might be a bit much."
"Stop wasting time and take the man's order!" a sharp female voice yelled from the kitchen.
"Haha, don't worry about it," Jerry joked. "If he can't finish it, I'll personally hold him down and pour it into his mouth."
"O-okay! Right away!" the waiter squeaked, bowing before scurrying toward the kitchen, from which they could soon hear the faint sounds of clanging pans and muffled cursing.
As they waited, Deuce leaned in, his voice low. "Does this town feel... a little strange to you guys?"
Skull nodded, his usual cheerful demeanor gone. "Your instincts are correct, Mr. Deuce," he whispered. "This island, Gunnas, is a known hub for the underworld. Slave trading, smuggling... you name it. It's a major transit station on the Grand Line." He lowered his voice even further. "And it's all under the protection of one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. We need to be careful here."
"Don't worry," Jerry said, patting Skull on the shoulder. "We're just a bunch of honest, hungry pirates."
"That's right!" Ace agreed, while nonchalantly picking his nose.
Soon, mountains of food arrived, and the crew dug in like they hadn't eaten in weeks.
"Mmm, delicious!" Ace mumbled through a giant mouthful of steak. "This is so much better than fish! Deuce, we need to stock up on more ingredients like this."
"Why do you think we were starving in the first place?" Deuce retorted. "And in case you've forgotten, we don't have a chef. All we can manage is pre-made food and things Jerry can grill."
"Then we'll find a cook!" Ace declared, already fantasizing about future feasts at sea.
"Yeah, and you'll probably need to find someone who can cook with only two ingredients which are salt and water," Jerry quipped, rapidly shoveling food onto his own plate to keep ahead of Ace's lightning-fast consumption.
"Ah, I'm stuffed," Jerry finally said, leaning back and letting out a satisfied burp. "It's always the unassuming little places that have the best food. Those big, fancy restaurants are all style and no substance... burp!"
"Really? What's wrong with the big restaurants?" Ace asked, his eyes gleaming with interest at any topic related to food.
Jerry looked up at the ceiling with a deeply melancholic expression. "I wouldn't know. I've never actually eaten in one."
"Then why are you talking about it?!" Deuce complained, tossing a bread roll at his head. He had been hoping for some good material for his novel, but all he got was another one of Jerry's terrible jokes.