OPTC Chapter 175 How to Legally Set Sail
All those fanfics about human auction houses selling famous swords or Devil Fruits were lies. This was a proper slave auction. The only goods for sale were people—slaves. Nothing more.
After scouring the entire venue under the effect of the invisibility ink, Zhang Da Ye confirmed this.
He was confident because they had even cracked open chief auctioneer Disco's personal safe. Aside from a stack of stinking bills, it was completely empty.
Tom popped it open with nothing more than a can opener. Judging by how easy it looked, opening the safe wasn't much different from opening a tin of sardines.
Zhang Da Ye packed up the money anyway. Some would be used to help the freed slaves start over, and the rest would be set aside as a sailing fund. Robbing the rich to patch his own losses seemed perfectly fair.
After all, considering the people he had already rescued before, he'd been running at a deficit. This just helped make up for it.
When they finally found where the slaves were kept, they were surprised to see a longarm tribe for the first time in person.
The extra joint in their arms looked strange but fascinating.
Other than that, the rest were mostly pirate captains, beautiful dancers, multi-talented maids, and the standard label of "strong adult male."
Zhang Da Ye and Artoria removed their collars one by one, then told them to run. He also kindly advised that if they were caught and had no other option, they could head to a certain bar in Grove 13—but warned them clearly: survival chances were only fifty-fifty. Choose wisely.
Looking at the few unconscious pirates still locked away, Zhang Da Ye hesitated. Those kept separately for auction were all wanted men—bounties starting in the tens of millions at least.
But since Shark Chili wasn't with them, he didn't have detailed information. Invisibility ink didn't work on Shark Chili—apparently it didn't even count him as human—so he had stayed behind.
Zhang Da Ye left him and Rui Meng Meng on the ship to act as their alibi.
That afternoon, many shipwrights and visitors had clearly seen Zhang Da Ye and Artoria napping in the sun while playing cards with Rui Meng Meng. Whatever else happened, it had nothing to do with them.
What people saw at first were their real bodies. Later, Tom swapped them out with dummies he'd made, tucked under wide-brimmed hats and blankets—good enough to fool anyone at a glance.
But that wasn't enough. Zhang Da Ye planned to make it look like the auction house exploded because Disco had been smoking in the kitchen, accidentally igniting a gas leak.
That way, not only would it have nothing to do with him, it would also be unrelated to "Nightmare." And the sheriffs on nearby islands could all testify that Zhang Da Ye was always busy catching thieves at night. Clearly not Nightmare.
Artoria agreed. In Fuyuki City, gas explosions happened often. Nothing suspicious about it.
And so, on October 14, 1510 of the Sea Calendar, Grove 1 of the Sabaody Archipelago was rocked by a massive blast. The so-called "Professional Stabilization House," a place that had witnessed countless vile transactions, was reduced to rubble.
People stopped in their tracks, shocked when they realized where the explosion had come from. Someone had dared to strike there.
Those in the know immediately suspected Nightmare. They were astonished at his audacity—and surprised he had attacked in broad daylight.
But the people freed from that place looked back at the flames and smoke, then turned and ran, some crying, some laughing through tears.
That fire… that was the light of heaven. Those invisible figures… they were the brightest stars in the world.
…
A short while later, Zhang Da Ye, Artoria, and Tom "woke up" on the ship.
Zhang Da Ye looked up at the hot sky and said, "This weather calls for chilled watermelon. I'll grab some from the fridge."
No one ever turned down food. Artoria and Tom went to help fetch a few melons.
Artoria cut one quickly and was about to take a bite when Zhang Da Ye stopped her.
He swapped her slice with half a melon and a spoon. "Try eating it like this."
Artoria scooped out a bite and closed her eyes in delight.
Tom hugged half a melon himself, copying the way she ate. Soon he was happily enjoying it too.
Rui Meng Meng and Shark Chili weren't impressed with the method—they just each grabbed a slice and gnawed away.
Meanwhile, Zhang Da Ye set a tray with extra slices and called out to the nearby shipwrights. "Uncle Goodman! Everyone! Want some watermelon?"
"Give me a piece!"
"Me too!"
"Thanks, lad!"
"It's me who should thank all of you for watching our ship these past days."
That afternoon, no one cared about "Nightmare" or "Heaven's Radiance." Everyone was just ordinary folks, enjoying watermelon together.
That night, though, Zhang Da Ye couldn't sleep.
"Whoever said the sound of waves helps you sleep was lying," he muttered, yawning with dark circles under his eyes. "Tom, when you make breakfast later, boil me a couple eggs too."
"I slept great," Rui Meng Meng said, tilting her head. "Boss, didn't you say you used to drift on the sea with Teacher Tom for days? How come you can't sleep now?"
"That was probably because I was starving and exhausted back then. Turns out I really do prefer peace and quiet when I sleep."
"Should we delay departure until you get used to it?" Artoria asked.
"No need. With my current stamina, it's fine. We've already finished everything that needed doing. Once we say goodbye to Uncle Goodman, we'll head out."
"Everything" included hanging the "Traveling" sign back on the tavern door, moving the leftover wine onto the ship, and greeting the wine merchant Gulagas.
Old Bob and a few friends stopped by during their errands too. The milk order from little Miu Ke's family was canceled, and to apologize, Zhang Da Ye gifted her a necklace from Fishman Island.
And finally, as a law-abiding citizen, Zhang Da Ye did the most important step before setting sail: registering the ship's design, name, and flag at the Marine base.
The ever-dutiful Lieutenant Commander T Bone even reminded them that when entering allied nations, they'd be charged a tax. That was how traveling merchants and sailors effectively paid the Celestial Tribute.
The actual amount was decided by each allied country. As for non-member nations, the World Government had no say.
The benefit of paying was that, in case of trouble, they could always ask the local Marines for help—though how much help you actually got depended entirely on the character of the base commander.
Zhang Da Ye carefully noted down every detail. Not because he planned to ask for help, but because he didn't want to be suddenly mistaken for a pirate one day.
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