The only merchant ship Zhang Da Ye knew of was the one owned by Biznis, and even then, he hadn't actually seen it in person—so he really had no idea what a merchant ship was supposed to look like.
Fortunately, even if he didn't know, others did. Bob explained, "A merchant ship usually looks like this. Some fly the flag of their trade guild, with the guild's name painted on the sails. Others don't display anything at all."
"But aren't merchant ships usually coming from the west? We're on the far eastern side here. Why would one be coming from this direction? Could it be merchants from Fishman Island?"
After all, the Red Line lay directly east of the Shabody Archipelago.
Bob shook his head. "Not necessarily. Remember, Shabody isn't a true island but rather the roots of the giant Yarukiman Mangrove trees. There's no magnetic pull here. To reach this place, you need a Log Pose pointing toward Fishman Island—or someone's Vivre Card to guide you."
Zhang Da Ye nodded. He knew these basics well enough. The Grand Line's magnetic fields were chaotic, making normal compasses useless. Even a genius navigator like Nami could only rely on Log Poses, Eternal Poses, or Vivre Cards to travel safely.
"So what does that have to do with this?"
Bob explained further, "Because the Log Pose points toward Fishman Island, which lies directly beneath the Red Line, the bearing isn't perfectly aligned with Shabody's location. Some ships can overshoot and miss the archipelago altogether, ending up near the Red Line. From there, they follow signs back to Shabody. So, it's not unusual to see ships approaching from unexpected directions."
That… sort of made sense. Zhang Da Ye lifted his telescope again, studying the approaching ship. "Still… something feels off."
The hull looked battered—normal enough, given how dangerous Grand Line voyages could be.
The bow carried a cannon—also reasonable. Even merchant ships needed some form of defense.
But the writing on the sails looked terribly sloppy, as though someone had just painted it on with oil-based paint. Streaks of wet paint had dripped down before drying, leaving a messy look.
And then there was the man standing at the bow. He had a huge belly on spindly legs, his suit was ill-fitted with the bottom buttons undone, and his belt held a pistol. He looked like a kid dressing up in borrowed clothes—not a merchant at all.
When Zhang Da Ye pointed these out, Bob and the others grew uneasy. "Could this be pirates pretending to be merchants?"
"It's rare, but not impossible," Bob admitted. "They could disguise themselves as traders, dock near an island, then ambush the unsuspecting. Better to leave quickly, just in case."
The idea of retreat found quick support. Bob's retired life had only just begun—he wasn't eager to see it cut short. The other old men agreed as well.
But Zhang Da Ye wasn't about to leave. Pirates using such cheap tricks probably weren't all that strong. He thought of East Blue's Don Krieg as an example. "You gentlemen go on ahead. We'll stay behind and see what these guys are worth. Who knows, maybe we'll even cash in on a bounty."
Bob frowned. "Don't be reckless, lad. If they really are pirates, they won't be easy to handle. Better to call the Navy."
"It's fine. We can handle it. Don't forget, Bob, where I got the money to buy the tavern." Zhang Da Ye urged them to go, worried they might get caught in the crossfire. Honestly, if not for the lack of certainty, he would've just asked Artoria to blast them with a light cannon to test its power.
"If you can't hold out, call me," Bob said at last. "As soon as my Den Den Mushi rings, I'll contact the Navy right away." He didn't claim he'd come running to the rescue—he knew his own limits. Offering advice and a backup plan was already more than enough.
This wasn't some melodramatic soap opera. The six old men didn't waste time with sentimental words. They quickly packed up and left, abandoning their fishing gear in the process.
Fishing rods could always be replaced. Their lives couldn't. Better to go home, gather their valuables, and move somewhere safer.
Once they were gone, Rui Mengmeng asked nervously, "Boss… are we really fighting?"
"If they're pirates, then we'll have to," Zhang Da Ye replied calmly. "Are you scared?"
Rui Mengmeng shook her head, flexing her arm. "Of course not! I'm going to be the woman of the Supreme God King—I won't be scared by something like this!"
Artoria, naturally, wasn't afraid either. She only asked, "But how do we confirm if they're pirates?"
Zhang Da Ye thought for a moment, then pulled a rice cooker from his inventory. Inside were bundles of cash—around 2.3 million Berries in total.
Because tavern customers rarely paid with the large 10,000-Berry notes, the stash included many smaller denominations, giving the illusion of a far larger sum—like 20 million rather than just two.
He dumped the money into a small pile on the ground and grinned. "We'll bait them. Pretend we're splitting the loot. A real merchant might try to sell us something. But a pirate? No way they'll resist this kind of temptation."
Tom stroked his chin, then produced a stack of green bills—his old-world savings, worthless here—and tossed them onto the pile to bolster the bait. He folded his arms proudly, waiting for praise.
"Haha, Tom, good thinking." Zhang Da Ye chuckled, rubbing the cat's head. "Though I guess this technically makes us counterfeiters."
Tom purred happily, brushing against Zhang Da Ye's palm, before sitting down to build a money pyramid with the bills. Unfortunately, the pile wasn't big enough for a proper masterpiece.
So Zhang Da Ye, Rui Mengmeng, and Artoria staged their little act—splitting stacks of bills among themselves before handing them back to Tom to stack again. It became a strange game of luxury, easily the most extravagant pastime Zhang Da Ye had ever played.
Before long, the ship anchored offshore in deeper waters, and about thirty men rowed several smaller boats toward the beach.
Captain Blacklock planned to stroll over and strike up a friendly conversation, maybe get directions or an introduction. But one of his men tugged on his sleeve.
"Captain! Look there!"
Blacklock turned his head and froze. Money—piles of it!
One man, two women, and a cat sitting around dividing stacks of cash. This was a golden opportunity, practically delivered by the heavens!
His eyes gleamed as he raised his hand. "Surround them!"
The crew shared his thoughts—free money had landed in their laps. They advanced eagerly, fists clenched and weapons ready.
Zhang Da Ye widened his eyes, feigning fear. "What are you doing? I'll scream for help, you know!"
"In this place, you can scream your lungs out and no one will come!" Blacklock sneered, drawing the pistol from his belt. "I'm worth seventy-six million Berries, boy. Be smart—hand over the cash, and I might just let you live."
"Seventy-six million?" Zhang Da Ye's smile almost broke through his act. He could hardly contain his excitement.
"That's perfect!"