OPTC Chapter 176 I Want to Publicly Report Nightmare
"Uncle Goodman, this is Lieutenant Commander T Bone's number. If you ever run into pirates that are hard to handle, just give him a call." Zhang Da Ye handed over a slip of paper.
Directly calling him would definitely be faster than contacting the Marine base first. It was like in Detective Conan fanfics—when people called the police, they always dialed Inspector Megure directly.
Goodman patted Zhang Da Ye on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I've been working here for decades, seen just about everything. But you kids, this is your first voyage—be careful. The weather on the Grand Line is no joke, and the pirates will only be fiercer."
"We're strong. We even know two of the Warlords of the Sea. If you ever come across someone you dislike but can't personally teach a lesson, just give me a call. I'll come running back to handle it." Zhang Da Ye still couldn't fully relax about Goodman's family.
The reason he had been so careful when cleaning up those lawless types was precisely to avoid dragging them into trouble. This family was one of the few people in this world he truly cared about.
As for bounty hunting pirates, that was no concern. Most of them were loners, or like Yasopp—men who abandoned their wives and kids. Even if they were taken down, nobody would come for revenge.
Later, Mrs. Molly gave a long list of motherly reminders—take care of your health, eat on time, don't catch a cold, if you get tired at sea come back here to rest. By the end, tears were welling in her eyes.
Little Baier was as energetic as ever, shouting about surpassing his father and becoming the best shipwright, while also making Zhang Da Ye promise to return and tell him adventure stories.
At last, Zhang Da Ye boarded the ship, raised the anchor, and set sail.
The shipwrights at the shore shouted goodbyes and blessings. Even if they hadn't shared watermelon before, they truly respected anyone brave enough to face the sea, and wished every ship a safe return.
For a shipwright, romance meant repairing every vessel that returned to port and reading its scars like a logbook of adventures. It felt more real than hearing a tale or reading a journal.
As for the tavern crew's departure, some felt admiration—like those who wanted to sail but lacked the courage. Some felt sadness—like Goodman's family, or Tom's drinking buddies. And some secretly felt joy—such as those who had once been disciplined by them, or… a certain Marine major.
Kuro had thought he could spend many quiet years in Sabaody. He hadn't expected that even running a bounty exchange would suddenly bring him achievements and promotions.
Especially after that man appeared. Especially these past two months. But now, finally, he was gone!
Major Kuro happily lit a cigar. It was a gift from Zhang Da Ye. They said a local official was more useful than a distant one, and a few cigars weren't a bribe anyway. He accepted them gladly—as emotional damages compensation.
And they really did taste good. Even had a fancy smoke-ring trick. Kuro leaned back, propped his legs on the table, and started to relax.
"Major Kuro! Good news—you've been promoted! Your commission letter just arrived!" his assistant rushed in.
Thud!
Kuro collapsed onto the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. The cigar no longer tasted good. Rubbing the sore back of his head, he muttered—was this what Da Ye meant when he said smoking was harmful to your health?
Elsewhere, another Marine had his own troubles.
Rear Admiral Kadalu was fuming.
He had received an order to cooperate in investigating the explosion at the "Professional Stabilization House." On paper, it came from Marine HQ, but he knew his direct superior would never bother sending such an order. This was clearly a request from the World Government.
The explosion had already spread across Sabaody. Of course the higher-ups in the World Government knew, and naturally, they had learned of "Nightmare's" actions.
If it had just been a few traffickers killed or a few slaves lost, they wouldn't have cared. That was ordinary.
But such a targeted strike forced them to act. Because what they feared most was the rise of another Fisher Tiger.
Since the orders were given, Kadalu could only obey. He brought men to escort a group of CP agents in black suits to the site. Fortunately, the results were… relieving.
When the CP agents reported back through a Den Den Mushi, the voice on the other end was filled with disbelief. "A gas explosion?"
"Yes," the agent confirmed. "From the scene, that's the only conclusion. A number of slaves were even killed in the blast. Clearly, this wasn't a slave liberation mission."
"And what about Nightmare?"
"For now, there are no leads."
Of course there weren't. Aside from Zhang Da Ye's crew, only two types of people had ever seen Nightmare and lived—slaves he freed, and Silvers Rayleigh.
All they could do now was try to trace the freed slaves. But so much time had already passed, the chances were slim.
…
Grove 13, Shakky's Rip-Off Bar.
"The little tavern you've been watching finally set sail," Shakky said, one arm on the counter, a cigarette between her fingers.
Time seemed to have left no mark on her. Though she was over fifty, she showed no sign of age.
"Is that so?" Rayleigh lounged comfortably on the sofa. "Yesterday's incident was probably their doing, wasn't it?"
Shakky was about to answer when she suddenly stopped. Both of them turned toward the bar's entrance.
The next moment, the doors burst open. A young woman dressed like a dancer stumbled in and cried out, "Help me!"
Two rough men stormed in right after, pinning her down. "Damn it, how dare you try to escape while we were finding a buyer!"
"Please, help me! I don't want to be sold again!" the dancer begged, struggling.
Noticing Rayleigh and Shakky, the men pulled out knives and snarled, "Mind your own business!"
Rayleigh frowned. An instant later, the two slavers collapsed, eyes rolled back.
"Now, now, didn't they just tell you to mind your own business?" Shakky teased.
"Haha, I just can't stand seeing a young girl bullied," Rayleigh said with a grin—words that could have been a minefield.
But instead of anger, Shakky smiled faintly, as though reminded of some old memory.
Freed, the dancer scrambled up and thanked them profusely. She didn't know what had just happened, but "Heaven's Radiance" hadn't lied.
"Mind telling us what's going on?" Shakky asked casually, tossing the unconscious men outside and stripping them of every last berry on the way.
The dancer stammered as she explained. After being freed yesterday, she and some others had tried to head for the port together. But because of her looks, she had been targeted again. During her escape, she got separated from her companions and was captured.
Fortunately, her captors failed to find a buyer after searching all night. Exhausted, they had dozed off, giving her the chance to run.
Shakky frowned. "Someone still dares to do this here?"
Weren't all the slavers on the island scared stiff? How were these people still so bold?
"Probably newcomers," Rayleigh guessed. "Or traffickers returning from overseas who haven't yet heard that the slave trade here was wiped out."
"Could be," Shakky nodded. "Then why did you run here of all places?"
"Because… because my benefactor said if I ran here, I'd have at least a fifty percent chance of surviving."
Rayleigh: "…"
I, Silvers Rayleigh, would like to publicly report Nightmare!
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