From their attire, the old man had taken Oboro and Dom for yet another pair of young, up‑and‑coming pirates who had popped up out of nowhere.
This was the Grand Line. Every day, brash, overconfident newcomers arrived from the four seas, only to get themselves hopelessly lost or out of their depth.
The struggle to survive here was nothing like what they had known in the four seas.
Most crews never even reached the Sabaody Archipelago; many collapsed before they had sailed halfway down their chosen route.
And pirates, by nature, were driven to commit crimes and wreak havoc, always putting their own gain first.
It was not uncommon here for bold new faces to try and challenge the authority of the Slick Pirates, acting as if they feared nothing and no one.
As for how those attempts ended… the outcome was never in doubt.
From the way Dom had handled himself, the old man could tell these two were skilled and far stronger than they looked.
But on the Grand Line, strength alone was rarely enough to solve problems. Things were infinitely more complex.
Of course, it was also possible these masked men were scouts sent by some other power. Yet, more likely than not, they were pirates.
Only pirates would act so rashly and without any proper plan.
What truly stunned the old man was that Oboro seemed to know secrets concerning Crocodile… a sign that this young man was no ordinary person either.
He himself had once had dealings with Crocodile, thanks to circumstances long in his past.
"Since you already know the Slick Pirates are connected to him… you'd best leave before more of them arrive," the old man said, glancing briefly at the body on the ground.
"They check in with their people regularly. If they lose contact, they'll come running to investigate immediately."
He deliberately did not speak Crocodile's name aloud.
Oboro had only guessed, after all.
But there were very few people on the Grand Line that someone of this man's age and experience would claim you simply could not afford to cross.
Oboro could think only of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. Especially given the old man's absolute certainty, and considering they were still in the first half of the Grand Line… truth be told, even crews returning from the New World, relying on their reputations there, wouldn't necessarily wield such influence.
Crocodile had established himself in Alabasta, secretly backing rebel factions and stirring up chaos within the kingdom.
Such schemes required massive funds to sustain, which meant he must have had countless hidden partners funneling resources and gold to him.
This was clear from his actions: running casinos and other businesses in Alabasta, founding the secret organization Baroque Works, and even setting up a "Little Garden" where new pirate crews were ambushed and robbed — all just to raise capital.
It was all part of his grand plan: Operation Utopia.
His true goal was to seize control of one of the Ancient Weapons — Pluton.
To a businessman like Crocodile, profit justified any means. In many ways, he and Doflamingo were cut from the same cloth.
True overlords — ruthless, cold, and calculating.
Exploiting, plundering, and destroying a small island like this? It meant nothing to him.
What mattered was only how much wealth the place could generate.
Having spoken, Oboro turned and walked away, Dom following close behind.
Ignoring the old man's warning, they had already made their choice: they were heading straight for the town.
"Hmph."
The old man did not try to stop them.
He had offered them a kind warning. If they still chose to go and throw their lives away… that was their own business.
"Wait…"
Oboro paused before going too far.
He looked back at the old man.
"You wouldn't happen to have been one of his crew once, would you?"
The old man's expression shifted slightly.
And that was answer enough.
Oboro understood instantly.
The old man, meanwhile, felt a chill run down his spine. He was certain he had revealed nothing about Sir Crocodile, yet this stranger had seen right through him.
That required not only a sharp, careful mind, but also knowledge of events from years gone by.
"Captain… who are you talking about?" Dom finally asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.
"Crocodile," Oboro replied calmly.
"Does he own this island?"
Nowadays, hearing the name of a Warlord no longer shocked Dom the way it used to.
"The Slick Pirates are working for him… though I doubt they know exactly who they answer to. Crocodile never leaves traces. The things he plans to do are hardly honorable — if the World Government found out, he'd be in serious trouble. That's why almost no one knows the truth."
Oboro jerked his thumb backward toward the old man.
"That man is old, but his bearing and his eyes are sharp and capable. Men like him don't usually live this long… and they certainly don't end up stuck in a backwater like this, serving as a virtual slave."
"Over twenty years ago, Crocodile challenged Whitebeard in the New World… and lost, badly. I don't know if his entire crew died in that fight, but some must have survived. Maybe after that battle, Crocodile realized… he saw them only as dead weight."
"They're coming," Oboro said.
Dom trusted Oboro's intelligence on the Warlords completely. He knew better than to ask how his captain knew all this.
In the distance, figures appeared, moving quickly across the horizon.
Oboro slid his hands into his pockets. "It's all yours."
"With pleasure."
Dom's smile turned bloodthirsty. He spun the shining blade in his hand, leaned forward, and charged like a cheetah.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Seeing intruders on their island rushing toward them with terrifying speed and ferocity, the pirates opened fire. Others drew weapons and charged to meet him.
But… these amateurs were no match for Dom at all.
Before Oboro even reached the fight, he saw Dom's shadow darting back and forth through the crowd. A few quick movements later, and the noise of battle died away completely.
Oboro walked slowly through the blood and bodies littering the ground.
Dom flicked the gore from his blade and fell into step beside him.
Everything they had been through — narrow escapes, life‑or‑death struggles — had only deepened the thrill and excitement that raw power gave Dom.
He walked now with absolute confidence, fully embracing what fate had handed him.
And the man who had given him this "new life" walked right in front of him.
...
The town was not far — only a few kilometers away.
Yet in that short distance, the Slick Pirates sent wave after wave of men to intercept them.
First low‑level grunts, then high‑ranking officers… all were cut down by Dom.
His fighting style, combined with his ability to jump through space, made him look like an assassin straight out of hell.
He had always relied on stealth, but before, his physical strength had been far too weak.
Now, enhanced by the bloodline cards and armed with combat experience gained from skill cards, his overall ability had reached a whole new level. He was more than capable of surviving anywhere in the first half of the Grand Line.
After half an hour of slow progress, Oboro and Dom finally stood on the main street of Bonam Town.
It was surprisingly busy. Apart from pirates of every kind, there were merchants moving about under armed guard.
The streets were lined with shops of all sizes, mostly taverns, gambling houses, and entertainment spots built to serve ships stopping for rest and recreation.
Fifteen meters away, in front of a tavern, two groups of pirates, clearly drunk, were already brawling and hacking at each other.
The locals paid it no mind; they simply stepped aside to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
"Captain…"
Dom's voice shook slightly. He pointed toward a wall.
Oboro walked over silently.
It was a pleasure house. Even in broad daylight, heavily made‑up women in bright clothes stood at the entrance trying to attract customers.
But neither man was looking at the women.
Their eyes were fixed on two wanted posters pasted side by side on the wall.
One was of Oboro. The other, Dom.
Just like the last time they had seen them at Sabaody Archipelago… their bounties remained unchanged.
"I didn't think they'd spread our posters all the way out here… The Navy Headquarters certainly keeps the first half of the Grand Line under tight control," Oboro said with a faint smirk.
Of course, the Navy hadn't stuck these up — the locals running businesses had put them there just to avoid trouble.
A moment later, Dom came out of a shop holding a newspaper, which he handed to Oboro.
This was exactly why they had come ashore: to gather information and understand their current situation.
The date on the paper was very recent.
Dom's face was flushed and he was vibrating with excitement, barely holding himself back.
He had clearly already read the contents.
Oboro scanned the pages quickly. Even he felt a ripple of surprise.
The World Economy News Paper.
The headline on the front page… featured him.
The text, written with dramatic, sensational language, had elevated his actions to heights never seen before.
"Your bounty hasn't increased because the World Government still isn't entirely sure whether we're dead or alive…" Oboro said, flipping the paper shut and tossing it aside.
"'God‑Slayer'? Please… They were never gods. Don't elevate that trash, Morgans."
There was no mention of what had happened afterward with the Marines. That meant the World Government had likely chosen to sweep the incident quietly under the rug.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY!"
"MOVE!"
Suddenly, the relaxed atmosphere in the street vanished, replaced by tension.
A large group of men were rushing straight toward Oboro and Dom.
There were many of them, and they moved in perfect formation.
People nearby sensed the danger and scattered immediately.
Especially since all these men wore matching uniforms marked with a snake emblem…
The Slick Pirates — current rulers of Bonam Island.
"It's Mepon the Mincer!"
"And Zidall the Beheader…"
"Both top officers of the Slick Pirates are here! What's going on?!"
"Run! Don't just stand there watching!"
As people shouted and fled, shop owners quickly locked up and closed their shutters.
The lively street turned deserted in moments.
Oboro remained calm and composed.
He looked at the ring of pirates surrounding them, completely unfazed.
"You've got some nerve… killing our men and then walking straight into town in broad daylight!"
One of the two leaders — a swordsman wearing elegant, almost knight‑like armor — sneered at Oboro.
He had long, snow‑white hair and handsome features.
But what drew attention was the long sword hanging from his hip. From the shape and size of the scabbard, the blade itself was incredibly thin and slender, like a willow branch — clearly a rapier, designed for fencing.
The second leader was his complete opposite.
Built like a wrestler, broad‑chested and massive, his hands alone were as large as millstones.
Once again, Oboro was reminded of how monstrously strong people could physically be in the world of pirates.
This man stood easily over three meters tall — no strange race, just pure human.
He looked incredibly imposing and intimidating.
____________________
For more advance chapters visit my patreon
patreon.com/kane45
Tier: 10$ Casual Reader - +20 Advance Chapter
20$ Intermediate Reader - +40 Advance Chapter
40$ Expert Reader - +80 Advance Chapter
Update: "Monday to Friday - Update 3 Chapters a Day"
"Saturday and Sunday - Off"