"Setting sail?" Aeridar frowned, drumming his fingers idly against the bar counter. His thoughts were already racing. The Longhair Pirates, the Demon Mask Pirates, and CP9... What kind of connection could exist between those three?
Jaya Island, small, seemingly insignificant, and yet here it was, crawling with elements from the Demon Mask Pirates and even agents from CP9. The more Aeridar thought about it, the more intrigued he became.
"Captain, did you find something?" asked Arlan, sliding in beside him with a curious glance, drink in hand.
"Not yet," Aeridar replied, shaking his head. "But I heard the descendant of Mont Blanc Noland, 'the Liar', is on this island too. If we want to reach the Sky Island, we might need his help."
"Noland's descendant? Here?" Arlan's eyes widened in surprise.
"They say he's spent the last two years diving underwater, obsessed with proving the Golden City is real," Aeridar added with a faint smile. He had to admit, he admired the man—Mont Blanc Cricket. A stubborn, tenacious soul who refused to bend to fate, a man's man if there ever was one.
"So maybe the story of Mont Blanc Noland isn't the fairy tale they tell in the North Blue after all," Oliver muttered, skeptical.
"You mean... the Golden City might actually exist?" Millie and Mina's eyes sparkled, almost literally, replaced with the shimmering gleam of beri signs.
"Who knows?"
Glug-glug-glug—
Aeridar downed the last of his drink, wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
After all, he couldn't exactly tell them the truth. If they asked how he knew, what would he even say? In the end, their journey to Skypiea was set in stone. The truth would come out eventually, just not yet.
"Let's go. We've gathered enough intel. Time to find Noland's descendant. If we're lucky, he might have a way to reach the Sky Island."
He tossed a few thick stacks of beri notes onto the counter, then pulled Millie and Mina in close by the waist. With Arlan and Oliver in tow, Aeridar swaggered out of the bar.
The scene looked like something straight out of a noble's pleasure cruise, an entitled heir parading through town with two beauties and his loyal retainers.
"No wonder he's got a 300 million bounty on his head... That presence alone... Tch, that fop Owen doesn't even come close," the barkeep muttered as he swept the cash from the bar, eyes gleaming with greed and calculation as he watched them leave.
Outside, the five of them made their way down the street toward the shore.
"Captain, isn't it odd?" Oliver asked, taking a swig from his bottle and glancing back toward the bar. "That barkeep knew way too much."
"If you're running a bar here, you've either got muscle backing you or power of your own," Arlan replied, toothpick in mouth. "He's probably one of the local fixers. Knowing stuff comes with the territory."
"Heh, even if he was one of Gutte's guys, I wouldn't care," Aeridar scoffed. "What's a barkeep gonna do to me?"
He had the strength to back it up. If he wanted to, he could flatten the entire Mock Town singlehandedly, even in his current, still-recovering state. These small-fry weren't even worth considering.
...
Elsewhere, beneath Mock Town, in a dimly lit underground chamber...
A few candles cast flickering shadows on the stone walls, barely holding back the darkness.
"My men report the Chris Pirates have arrived on Jaya. That includes the 300-million bounty man, Golden Ring—Chris T. Aeridar. He's already in the town."
The speaker lounged at the center of a plush sofa, long black hair cascading past his waist, dark eyes gleaming beneath bangs. He had delicate, handsome features, wearing a cherry blossom-patterned red-and-black shirt under a black cloak, paired with leather pants and boots.
"Golden Ring, huh?" The tall, gaunt man across from him frowned. "That guy's a pain in the ass."
This second man wore a sleek silver-gray suit, black dress shoes, and had a long, pointed face with dusky skin. He sipped red wine from a crystal glass.
"Don't stress too much," said the long-haired man with a casual wave. "My guys said he's still wrapped in bandages. He's injured. I might be able to finish him off myself."
"Don't kid yourself, Owen," the tall man snapped. "You think his officers and crew are just for show? Two of his officers are each worth over 100 million, and even the newest one, Mountain Axe—Diego Backan, just got a 95 million bounty. You think you can take him on?"
This effeminate yet deadly man was none other than the self-styled "ruler" of Jaya Island, Captain of the Longhair Pirates, the 60-million bounty man: Longhair Owen.
"Hey, don't underestimate me, Puda," Owen said irritably. "That 60 million bounty? That's from three years ago."
So the gaunt man was Puda, one of the last two remaining top officers of the Demon Mask Pirates. He was infamous as "The Plunderer," not just for his bounty of 280 million, but for his brutal tendency to steal everything of value from his victims. He wielded the Dog-Dog Fruit, Model: Black Wolf.
"Even if he's injured, Aeridar's not someone to take lightly," Puda warned, his voice ice-cold. "Our captain, Gutte, stole a scientist the World Government desperately wanted. And you were left to hide him here. So while we're laying low, don't make waves."
"I'm leaving tonight. I don't want the CP hounds sniffing my trail. If anything goes wrong here, you'll be the one Gutte punishes. Think about that before trying to play hero."
Owen scowled at the mention of both Gutte and the World Government, but didn't respond.
"Once the heat dies down, we'll get the scientist to Gutte, and we're done," Puda said coolly, swirling his wine. "Until then, keep a close eye on any strangers in town. Stay away from the Chris Pirates. Anything else, I don't care."
"I know, you don't have to nag," Owen muttered. With a disgruntled grunt, he stood from the sofa and stalked off toward the door.
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