This was also the crossroads between the first half and the second half of the Grand Line.
Anyone who managed to reach this point—whether pirate or Marine—was a fighter of considerable strength.
On any given day, one could see countless infamous criminals and notorious pirates with high bounties walking the streets.
In such an environment, conflicts and scuffles breaking out every so often were nothing out of the ordinary.
At first, even El paid the commotion no mind. Instead, he raised his drink and laughed along with the others, treating the scene as nothing more than an amusing distraction.
The troublemakers inside Shakky's Bar appeared to be newcomers, fresh off their journey and newly arrived at this midway point between the two halves of the Grand Line.
One was thin and dark-skinned, looking as though he were perpetually soaked through.
His hair hung in stringy clumps down his back, and his sleeves were so long they covered his fingertips entirely.
His clothes were stained and filthy, taking on a sickly brownish-green hue like rotting moss.
Even while causing a scene, he kept flicking out a long tongue and making strange, muffled noises.
Standing beside this tall, gaunt figure was a man who could not have been more different—round, plump, and fair-skinned, almost the exact opposite in every way.
No one would ever have guessed that these two were actually brothers.
They were already fairly well-known pirates in the first half of the Grand Line, leading a crew called the Caribou Pirates.
The leader was Caribou himself, and the man beside him was his younger brother, Coribou—the very pair now raising a ruckus inside Shakky's Bar.
"Bring us better wine right now! Don't you dare think we can't pay!"
"Exactly!"
"We're about to enter the New World! Who do you take us for?!"
The two brothers shouted and slammed their fists on the table, red-faced and furious, looking ready to leap up and start throwing punches.
"Wet-Haired" Caribou struck the surface with every word he spoke, and each impact produced a wet, squelching sound.
Within moments, the tabletop was soaked and covered in slop.
Shakky herself was not behind the counter at that moment; instead, a young, unfamiliar-looking girl was tending to the customers.
She was now trembling with fright, caught in the middle of the brothers' rage.
This tavern was no ordinary place—it was also the hideout of Silvers Rayleigh, the "Dark King," the right-hand man of the Pirate King Gol D. Roger.
Rayleigh lived here in seclusion, making his living in disguise as a ship coater.
Whenever there was no work to be done, he would stay here and drink. It was exactly the kind of relaxed retirement life El had once admired.
Earlier on his travels, El had even run into Rayleigh near the Calm Belt. The old man had since left Sabaody for some reason, so there was no top-tier master of his caliber on the premises right now.
Of course, even though Sabaody Archipelago was a chaotic melting pot filled with countless strong individuals, serious or violent incidents rarely spiraled out of control.
The location itself was a deterrent: it was not far from Marine Headquarters.
If anything major happened, the Marines could mobilize a massive force and surround the entire archipelago in the blink of an eye.
El and his companions had been content to sit back and watch, waiting for the farce to end on its own.
But Caribou only grew more unruly, finally shouting that he would bury everyone inside the bar along with it. That was something they could no longer pretend not to hear.
El shook his head lightly and set down his glass. Having observed for a while, he had already pieced together what had happened.
The brothers had ordered their drinks and food, and now, refusing to pay, intended to leave without settling their bill.
Trying to dine and dash in the very place where the Dark King himself resided took some nerve—though clearly, the pair had no idea who owned this establishment.
Since Rayleigh was not here, but El was, he certainly would not let them get away with it. He glanced over at Issho.
Though the swordsman could not see, his Observation Haki was second to none; even without turning his head, he had heard every word and sensed the entire situation clearly.
"That man is a Logia-type Devil Fruit user," El remarked casually, though loud enough for Issho to hear. He was referring, of course, to the elder brother and captain of the crew, Caribou.
Logia-type Devil Fruits were widely recognized as the most powerful of all abilities. The reason was simple—their power was almost impossible to counter.
By transforming their bodies into their respective elements, Logia users became nearly immune to all physical attacks.
They could also wield their elemental form in countless strange and unpredictable ways, making their fighting style difficult to anticipate.
Compared to Zoan-types, which offered physical boosts but little else, or Paramecia-types, whose power varied wildly from person to person, Logia users were almost always the most dangerous opponents to face.
"Hmm… They are pirates, after all. Such behavior is hardly surprising," Issho said suddenly.
It was clear he still held a deep-seated bias against pirates. Had things turned out differently, and had El not intervened in time, Issho would likely have gone on to join the Marines.
He did not agree with every policy of the World Government or the Marines, but pirates were the enemies he was determined to bring down.
In this Great Pirate Era, their numbers were countless, and they had brought endless suffering upon ordinary people. Issho would not allow this to continue unchecked.
He knew, however, that ending the era entirely through his own strength alone was not just difficult—it was impossible. That was why seeking support and strength from others was necessary.
At first, he had looked toward the World Government and the Marines as the legitimate path to change.
But now, joining forces with the El Pirates seemed like a viable alternative. Besides, at this point, he no longer had the luxury of choosing his own path.
Even as a new member, however, he understood that gaining influence and a voice within the crew would not be easy.
And that was exactly what he needed—without standing firm and proving his worth, how could he ever hope to achieve his goals?
To earn respect and demonstrate his value, he had to make his mark. And right now, this seemed like the perfect opportunity.
Captain El clearly had no fondness for the two brothers, and stepping in to handle them would be an ideal chance to display his strength and build his reputation.
"Captain… Shall I take care of these two?"
Issho lowered his head and rested a hand on the hilt of his sword-cane.
"Go ahead," El replied with a faint smile.
He could tell exactly what Issho was trying to do—prove himself and raise his standing in the crew. And to that, El was more than happy to give his full support.
__________________
For more advance chapters visit patreon.com/bars45.
For 10$- All advance chapters.
"Schedule"
Monday - Friday - Update 3 Chapters a Day
Saturday - Sunday - Off