"Seriously? The Calm Belt?" Du Feld's voice crackled through the Den Den Mushi, skeptical.
"I don't joke about this," Orlan replied. "Crossing the Calm Belt's simpler than you think. Just a small ship modification."
Flanking the Grand Line, the Calm Belts were windless voids, stranding sailing ships. Worse, they harbored nests of Sea Kings, monstrous deep-sea beasts that could obliterate vessels. These barriers, alongside the Red Earth Continent, carved the world into four seas. The World Government's forces could cross via specific ports, swapping ships, but pirates and underground traders like Umit faced steeper challenges. Entry to and exit from the Grand Line was a gauntlet.
Umit, the Deep Current, mastered secret ocean routes, yet even he couldn't conquer the Calm Belt. To move goods across seas, he bribed officials at Red Earth Continent ports, losing hefty profits to corruption.
"If that's true, the game changes," Du Feld said, intrigued. "Sidilir, invest in my operation. Hand over the tech, I'll handle the rest—thirty percent of the profits."
Du Feld's ambition burned. Merely recruiting Umit wasn't enough; he envisioned a new fleet to supplant him. If their plan to eliminate Piercro succeeded, Feld could claim half the underworld, crowned its emperor.
"Mr. Feld, don't bite off more than you can chew," Orlan cautioned. "Cross Umit, and you'll face more than underworld rivals. But I'll share the method: embed seastone in the ship's hull."
Seastone, infused with ocean energy, cloaked ships from Sea Kings, mimicking the sea itself. Smooth passage wasn't guaranteed—surface-basking beasts could still spark a fight—but the risk plummeted. Any skilled shipwright could install seastone; the real hurdle was sourcing it. Wano, its origin, remained closed, and Kaido's influence there was nascent, limiting smuggled supplies.
Orlan, stretched thin, traded the tech to Feld, washing his hands of fleet management. "Will he keep his word?" Kate asked, lingering as Orlan ended the call.
"Trust? Never. He wants my tech; I need his funds. Mutual gain keeps the deal solid. Some share their hearts—most just trade interests. Don't worry, I've got this."
Orlan was ready to flip the table if needed. Contingencies were in place. "Go clean up. Piercro's almost done. Things'll get busy."
"Meow'll keep those scum away. I'll take them all out," Kate vowed.
"Don't underestimate them. New World survivors, even the weakest, are tougher than first-half pirates. It'll be a hard fight. Master your Haki fast—train with Fran. If her body can handle Haki, that'd be a game-changer."
The Great Pirate Era hadn't fully ignited, but the New World's brutality outstripped the Grand Line's first half. Preparation was everything.
With the pirate threat gone, Kate and Frankenstein tidied up. Bakin preserved Dylan's head in formalin for the next bounty exchange, jotting notes on Judge's weapon. Meanwhile, O'Hara's crew met Vegapunk.
"Orlan, come see this. It's something special," Vegapunk called from O'Hara's ship.
Inside, Orlan found a square stone tablet. "Historical text? The pirates chased you for this?"
"No, they thought we found treasure," Cloba clarified. "This is the real prize. Dr. Sidilir, thank you for your aid."
Vegapunk's connection eased Cloba's wariness. After a brief exchange, Cloba's crew slipped away under night's cover, their mission complete.
Vegapunk held a paper summarizing the tablet's ancient tech. "Incredible—centuries ago, they had such ideas," he marveled.
"Progress isn't guaranteed; sometimes it's regression," Orlan said grimly. "Cloba's pursuit will bring ruin."
"It's just research," Vegapunk countered. "That's not so bad, right?"
"Punk, I know the World Government better. They fear history—its secrets terrify them. They'll stop at nothing to bury it."
Orlan recalled O'Hara's fate: razed by a Buster Call's artillery. Only Kuzan's mercy left survivors. Cloba, undeterred by Navy arrests, wouldn't heed warnings. Orlan, barely acquainted, offered brief advice—his limit. The historical texts might hold keys to toppling the World Government, but Orlan cared little. Their persistence proved past failures. He trusted his tech over ancient relics.
For MADS, this was a fleeting episode. Vegapunk, intrigued by the historical tech, studied it quietly, heeding Orlan's caution. In the New World's shadows, Feld and Piercro's underworld war raged, unseen battles erupting daily.
As time passed, the Iber Prize nominees were finalized. Orlan and Vegapunk's names shone in the newspapers once more.
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