OPTC Chapter 236 Target: Food City
Not many people followed the Amber group's adventures, but the Goodman family definitely did. The cat-head painted on that flag in the photo was far too familiar to them.
Little Bayer volunteered to read the whole article aloud, then indignantly declared, "I think the news is lying!"
Mrs. Molly asked, "Why do you say that?"
"Because Brother Da Ye and the others are so strong. It's more likely they protected the Navy. And Shark Chili is a robot—he's super powerful!"
Bayer stood up, striking Shark Chili's favorite battle pose after transforming, shouting, "Activate Super Transformation Mode!"
Goodman stepped beside his son, mirrored the stance, and bellowed the same line. Mrs. Molly watched the two clown around, smiling gently.
…
On Kuraikana Island, Dracule Mihawk began his morning the usual way—by beating up the baboons around his castle. He found them amusing, since every time they got thrashed, they still managed to pick up one or two moves from his swordsmanship. That curiosity kept him from driving them away. He wanted to see just how far these creatures could evolve.
It was one of the few daily pastimes that kept him entertained. Afterward, Mihawk picked up the Supreme Great Hoe and began tilling the soil.
If anyone else saw the world's greatest swordsman farming, their jaws would hit the ground. But this was his routine. He didn't just plant his own vegetables—he cooked with the Supreme Great Kitchen Knife and the Supreme Great Cutting Board, showing skill as practiced as his swordsmanship.
Once his morning chores were done, the hardworking Mihawk poured himself a glass of red wine and opened the day's newspaper. He didn't care about the headline concerning "Water 7's hope," but his eyes lingered on the photo of the cat statue on the back page.
"So you've finally set sail? Liyah, Tom… when we meet again, will you defeat me?"
…
Far away in Alabasta, Crocodile also recognized that very distinctive cat.
It wasn't that he had a great memory. Ever since Baroque Works had taken the job of capturing that cat, the organization had been on a steep decline.
Three senior agents had been lost. The Navy and Alabasta's royal family had grown suspicious. Under months of investigation, the remaining members were forced to either keep so quiet they couldn't even accept jobs or abandon Alabasta entirely to become bounty hunters elsewhere.
Even Crocodile himself had been acting far more cautiously. With a massive underground crime syndicate operating in the kingdom, he was the first person anyone would suspect. If not for the heroic image he'd cultivated over the years, the Navy and royal family would have pressed much harder in their inquiries.
The search for Pluton had slowed to a crawl.
And all of this… because of a single cat?
"A travel group, huh? If they come to Alabasta…" He decided to send someone to recruit them. Truthfully, Crocodile craved their combat power.
That nonsense in the papers about a judicial ship suppressing an entire fleet? At his level, it was obvious what really happened—the members of that group were the true powerhouses.
…
Jinbei also noticed the news right away.
Because Whitebeard had long sheltered Fishman Island under his flag, Jinbei would frequently visit the Whitebeard Pirates to offer his support.
"What's wrong, Jinbei? You've been staring at that paper for ages. Did something catch your eye?" Marco, his pineapple-headed comrade, greeted him casually.
"Ah. I spotted some old friends." Jinbei briefly explained the story.
Two reports stood out to him, and both involved Tom.
The shipwright Tom, a fellow fishman, had saved a human city with his own efforts. For Fishman Island, this held special meaning.
And his friend, the cat Tom, seemed to be having quite an exciting journey at sea. Jinbei felt proud.
Just days ago, Shark Chili had even contacted him after capturing two fishman pirates. Now, so soon after, they were in the news again.
"Marco, I need to return to Fishman Island immediately. Forgive me for leaving."
"No need for such formality. If you ever need help, just ask." Marco's eyes lingered on the newspaper, memorizing a name.
The Amber Travel Group. From Jinbei's description, they sounded like a very interesting bunch.
…
At that moment, the interesting bunch was on their way to the sea train station.
They had already entrusted the Amber to Tom's Workshop, though they had to endure quite a round of bragging from Franky when they went there. He went on about how the mayor had invited them to dinner the previous night, praising Tom's two disciples as geniuses with great futures.
Franky boldly declared that he would surpass even Tom and build a true "Dream Ship."
Iceburg sneered at his simple-mindedness. He said the mayor's flattery was just politics, his term nearly over, so he needed influential allies like Tom's Workshop for the next election. His words weren't genuine praise.
The two of them soon fell into another fight.
"Has Mr. Tom ever thought about running for mayor?" Zhang Da Ye asked, recalling what some dockworkers had said yesterday. With Tom's reputation and achievements, most people would overlook his fishman identity.
"Da-ha-ha-ha, I've no interest in power. Rather than being mayor, I'd rather focus on building the next sea train and contributing directly to Water 7."
"Still, more than a second sea train, what Water 7 needs most right now is a competent leader. If you're not interested, perhaps your disciples should consider it." Zhang Da Ye shared Swift Ear's intelligence and deductions from yesterday.
Tom answered calmly, "Iceburg and Franky? Honestly, there's little left I can teach them. How their paths unfold is their choice."
Franky wasn't thinking about politics at all. He only wanted to build stronger warships. Especially after hearing how a fleet had been taken down by just a handful of people, he was obsessed with countermeasures. What if he focused the entire power of a warship into a single person? Then they could have both power and flexibility.
Iceburg, however, fell into thought. For Water 7 to escape its current troubles, remaining divided like sand slipping through fingers would never work.
When he looked up, Zhang Da Ye and the others were already gone.
Zhang Da Ye didn't feel the need to say too much. As new friends, a small reminder was enough. Anything more would have seemed suspicious.
With that, and having fulfilled his sense of duty, the group of eight continued toward the sea train station.
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