One Piece: The True Codex

by GoldenLong

Summary:

A true hero possesses grand ambitions, a brilliant mind, and the courage to embrace the vastness of the universe and the boundless seas!

In the world of One Piece, where countless ships race across the seas and heroes rise in every corner, will you drift aimlessly like a small boat at the mercy of the waves, or stand firm like an unyielding reef, taming the raging tides?

This is a One Piece fanfiction with a twist: no joining the Straw Hat crew, no following others’ paths. Instead, it features a BOSS-type protagonist. Follow the journey of an ordinary office worker who is transported to the Great Pirate Era, right after Gol D. Roger's death. Starting from the East Blue, he rises through wisdom and relentless effort to become a formidable pirate overlord, challenging the legendary figures of the original story!

Chapter 1

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 1: The Stranger

Sea Calendar Year 1506, East Blue.

The peaceful and tranquil life of the small town was violently shattered by a group of outsiders. At the dock, a battered multi-masted ship flying a skull-and-crossbones flag swayed gently with the waves under the cover of night. The pirate vessel loomed like a living sea monster, silently observing the town filled with slaughter and screams—as if accustomed to such scenes, unmoved by the chaos it had unleashed.

The outskirts of the town bore the scars of the pirates' assault. Scattered flames from battle illuminated the streets as a group of pirates hurried along, their footsteps echoing through the devastation.

In front of an open-doored tavern, one of them suddenly stopped in his tracks. The three companions following him also paused.

"What's the matter?" asked one of the leading pirates, noticing the hesitation.

The one who had stopped was a boy of sixteen or seventeen, with blond hair, blue eyes, a high nose, and deep-set features that still carried a hint of youthful innocence. Like the other pirates from the ship, his appearance was disheveled and grimy from lack of proper rest. Yet unlike the seasoned pirates whose faces were alight with excitement at the prospect of pillage and plunder, his expression remained completely devoid of joy.

"I'll stay here," the boy said calmly, glancing at the tavern. "The ship's supplies are running low. I'll grab some booze and take it back before everything here gets ruined."

Unlike the boy who showed no interest in looting, the older pirates leading the group grew increasingly impatient. The sounds of their crewmates ransacking homes and the distant cries of women in distress only fueled their eagerness.

The leader of the group, an older pirate, considered for a moment. The town's resistance had already been crushed, so there was no need to stick together anymore. Though he inwardly mocked the boy's decision, he gave him a thumbs-up and said, "William, you're a real trooper. But I don't think you need this many people to help you. We'll head on ahead."

Without waiting for a response from the boy called William, the older pirate gestured to his companions, and they eagerly rushed deeper into the town, their faces alight with anticipation.

Faint mocking remarks drifted back on the wind: "What an idiot." "A clueless rookie."

The remaining pirates scowled in anger at the insults, but William remained unfazed. Perhaps because he was fundamentally different from these pirates—he was a traveler from another world, a stranger in this land. Deep down, he held nothing but contempt for their actions.

In the 21st century on Earth, his name had been Sun Bo, a white-collar worker on the verge of becoming a CEO, marrying a wealthy beauty, and reaching the pinnacle of success. But life is full of unexpected twists. Just as he was climbing the ladder to success, fate delivered a sudden, devastating blow, and his promising trajectory was derailed.

Without warning or explanation, he had dozed off briefly in his office only to awaken in another world. To make matters worse, he found himself thrust into a profession that anyone from a stable society would consider utterly hopeless—piracy.

However, Sun Bo was not one to wallow in self-pity. There was no customer service desk to complain to about being transmigrated, no laws governing such situations, and no way to reverse it through sheer willpower. He had no choice but to accept reality and focus his energy on adapting rather than wasting time on futile regrets.

The customs and habits of this world differed vastly from Earth's, and even the distribution of races seemed peculiar. The body he now inhabited clearly resembled a Germanic type from his previous life. Yet aboard the ship, pirates of Mediterranean, East Asian, and various other ethnicities all spoke the same language despite their diverse appearances.

This strange environment made Sun Bo extremely cautious. He dared not reveal his status as a transmigrator, uncertain whether the people here might tie him to a stake and burn him alive if they discovered his secret.

Fortunately amidst his misfortune, he had inherited the original owner's instinctive memories—language, motor skills, and basic knowledge. The rest of the memories, however, were a chaotic jumble, like a disorganized pile of photographs, lacking coherence and emotional connection.

Nevertheless, this didn't stop Sun Bo from assuming the identity of the body's original owner—Morgan William.

Morgan was the surname, William the given name. Sun Bo, or rather, William, didn't bother questioning why the name resembled English from his previous life while following an Eastern naming order. He had more pressing concerns—like surviving as a pirate.

As someone raised in a peaceful society, William had spent months establishing his footing aboard the pirate ship. He had even managed to rally three peers around him, forming a tight-knit group with himself as the leader.

At that moment, one of the pirates trailing behind William—a dark-skinned, emaciated young man—raised his eyebrows upon hearing the mocking remarks from the older pirates. Without a word, he grabbed the solid iron rod hanging from his waist and prepared to chase after them.

William quickly grabbed his arm and whispered, "Let it go, Gin."

The pirate called Gin was about the same age as William but looked as though he were in his thirties. Besides being dark and thin, his sunken eye sockets and bluish-purple lips gave him the appearance of a consumptive.

William had saved Gin's life during a naval battle, pulling him out of the line of fire just in time. Gin clearly lived by the principle that one should repay kindness with gratitude. Since that day, he had become the most loyal member of William's group, always following his lead without question.

Hearing William's command, Gin, though still seething with anger, stopped in his tracks. He shot a venomous glare at the retreating older pirates and muttered, "A bunch of old dogs!"

William patted Gin on the shoulder and led the way into the tavern. The other three pirates followed closely behind.

The tavern was in complete disarray. Tables and chairs lay overturned everywhere, evidence of the patrons' hasty departure. Judging by the mess, some pirates had already ransacked the place in their usual crude fashion. Broken bottles littered the floor, and the air was thick with the potent aroma of spilled alcohol.

William scanned the room. The tavern wasn't large; aside from the front and back entrances, there was only one wooden door behind the bar, likely leading to other rooms.

He instructed Gin and another pirate to guard the front and back doors, then motioned for a young pirate named Aramis to accompany him to the bar.

Aramis was of average height with short, slightly curly black hair that clung tightly to his head. His harmless-looking baby face always carried a slight smile, revealing a pair of shallow dimples and two prominent little fangs.

Aramis followed William as they crept cautiously toward the door. William drew a loaded flintlock pistol from his coat and aimed it at the wooden door. With a nod to Aramis, he signaled him to proceed. Aramis responded with a swift kick, forcing the door open.

The space behind the door was empty. Aramis shrugged and said, "Judging by the state of this tavern, I doubt anyone's still here."

"Better safe than sorry," William replied, visibly relieved. He wasn't afraid of encountering enemies so much as encountering civilians.

William lowered his pistol and stepped into the hallway beyond the door. Aramis took a moment to search the bar, but aside from a ledger soaked in alcohol, he found nothing of value. Clearly, the money had already been taken by the previous wave of pirates.

Aramis tossed the ledger aside and quickly caught up with William, his tone laced with complaint: "William, you're not even an officer on the ship. Why worry about supplies? When the captain organizes people to bring the booze back to the ship, you'll get your share anyway. We rarely get to go ashore, yet instead of looking for valuables, you're here collecting alcohol! I never knew you were such a drinker."

William glanced at him and said coldly, "What's the point of stealing more money if we're all about to die?"

Aramis froze, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"The Marines," William said, his expression darkening. Being transmigrated into a criminal was unfortunate enough, but being a fugitive with pursuers made it even worse. His tone carried a hint of bitterness and sarcasm. "Don't those idiots with brains barely larger than goldfish find it strange? Even if our ship were in perfect condition, we'd still be caught by that Marine warship. Now, with one of our masts broken, how is it possible that we've outrun an almost undamaged warship that somehow can't catch up?"

Aramis's face flushed red, but he pressed on. "Are you saying we haven't actually escaped the Marines?"

"Who knows? Maybe those Marines were extremely unlucky while we were incredibly fortunate. Perhaps they coincidentally ran into a storm, or perhaps they just happened not to have a sea chart, so they aren't deliberately herding us toward this island," William said as he pushed open a bedroom door. After a cursory search revealing nothing of value, he grabbed a pillow and walked out, continuing, "But I suspect the captain and officers are worried too. Haven't you noticed? The captain, navigator, and other officers, along with their trusted men, aren't venturing deep into town. They're all lingering near the outskirts, close to the ship. Only the reckless fools are eagerly heading toward the town center, away from the ship. Even the smarter old pirates aren't straying too far."

William spat in disgust. "Those idiots wandering around like scattered sheep—if the Marines show up, they'll never make it back to the ship in time."

Aramis, though not unintelligent, realized William's reasoning made perfect sense. He sighed deeply but still clung to a sliver of hope. "But as you said yourself, it's not impossible that we've actually lost the Marines."

"Perhaps," William sighed again, echoing his earlier sentiment. "But better safe than sorry."

Aramis nodded solemnly, then noticed William had stopped walking and was now looking at him expectantly. "What's wrong?" he asked, confused.

William gave him an irritated shove. "Lead the way! Find the wine cellar! Once we grab a few barrels, we're heading back to the ship. If the Marines do show up, at least we won't have to worry about being left behind. And when those old dogs get caught and hanged by the Marines, I'd love to see which of us they think is the real idiot then."

Chapter 2

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 2: The Hidden Cellar

Aramis's family used to run a tavern, but after going bankrupt, his parents were hounded to death by debt collectors, forcing him to join a pirate crew. Because of this background, he had a keen understanding of taverns. No matter how well-hidden a wine cellar might be, he could usually find it. Additionally, he could read and do basic arithmetic—an impressive skill in a world where education was not widespread.

In contrast, the other members of William's small gang had different backgrounds. Agin was originally a fisherman. After being extorted by a gang similar to fishing mafias, he accidentally killed someone during a confrontation and decided to become a pirate. Due to the high commercial mobility around the dock areas, Agin had picked up some literacy despite lacking formal education, making him semi-literate.

The last member, Vallon, a 17-year-old youth, came from a farming background and was completely illiterate.

This demonstrates that everything has both negative and positive aspects. Focusing solely on the latter can lead to excessive optimism, while fixating on the former can result in dejection and loss of confidence.

In the early days after his transmigration, William, inspired by Robinson Crusoe who once drifted to a deserted island, mentally created a list of pros and cons to encourage himself, regain his motivation, and rebuild his will to survive.

At the very least, this body was young and healthy, unlike his previous life's body that had been poisoned by years of tobacco and alcohol. From the inherited memories, it was clear that the original owner had received a good education and even some sword training. Although the original owner appeared somewhat ineffectual, never putting in much effort, these foundational skills had allowed William to distinguish himself on the pirate ship through his physical abilities—a key factor in becoming the leader of his small gang.

Starting from scratch was nothing new to William. He had built himself up from nothing in his previous life, and while the challenges now were greater, so too was the potential for growth.

After briefly examining the room, Aramis didn't linger. He led William to a courtyard behind the tavern.

Bending down, he studied the soil traces for a moment before clapping his hands to get William's attention as he surveyed the courtyard. With a hint of pride, he announced, "Found it."

Aramis approached a grape trellis in the courtyard, moved some foliage aside, and lifted a small wooden board covered with weeds. The cellar door had been disguised and positioned in the shadows beneath the trellis, making it easy to overlook if one wasn't paying attention.

When the wooden board was removed, it revealed a narrow passageway behind it, pitch-black inside. William didn't rush in. Instead, he shaded his eyes with his hand and peered into the darkness.

William waited like this for several minutes. When Aramis began to show signs of impatience, William finally tossed the pillow he had been holding into the dark cellar.

As expected, the sudden intrusion of an unknown object triggered a commotion in the cellar.

Bang! A gunshot suddenly echoed from within. Aramis jumped in surprise, then saw William beckoning to him before taking the lead and charging into the cellar.

William's earlier caution stemmed from concern that someone might be hiding inside. The cellar's passageway was so narrow that only one person could pass through at a time, leaving no room to dodge. If someone were hiding inside, a single gun could turn anyone entering into a living target. He had deliberately waited those few minutes to make any potential hidden person grow suspicious and tense. When the pillow was thrown in, they couldn't resist firing.

The East Blue region where William now lived used old-fashioned flintlock pistols that required considerable effort to reload. Hearing the gunshot, he didn't give the shooter time to reload, immediately crouching and plunging into the darkness of the cellar.

The cellar entrance led to a narrow staircase. William rushed down in the blink of an eye, landing on level ground. At that moment, a figure suddenly emerged from behind a wooden beam beside the stairs, attempting to ambush him while he was still finding his footing. But William was prepared—though the cellar was pitch-black, not as bright as above ground, he had already given his eyes time to adapt to this environment.

With a slight sidestep, William evaded the attacker's weapon. His left hand shot out like lightning, grabbing the assailant's wrist and pulling them forward while clearing the narrow cellar stairway for himself.

The light streaming in from the cellar entrance illuminated the attacker's face. William seized this opportunity to see that it was a boy of only fourteen or fifteen, his face contorted as he struggled to free his wrist from William's iron-like grip.

Without hesitation, William struck the boy on the temple with the hilt of his knife. With a thud, the boy collapsed unconscious.

All this happened in a flash. By now, Aramis had followed closely behind, rushing through the space William had cleared and into the cellar. Looking up, he immediately saw a middle-aged woman holding a pistol, staring in shock as she pointed it toward the stairway entrance.

The woman seemed paralyzed with fear, maintaining her gun-pointing posture. Wisps of gunpowder smoke still rose from the barrel. Knowing this was the gun that had fired earlier, Aramis barked a command, rushed forward in a few quick strides, knocked the pistol from her hand, and grabbed her by the throat. With a powerful move, he mercilessly slammed her to the ground.

Ignoring the woman he had left dazed and disoriented, Aramis turned to scan the surroundings for other enemies. When his gaze reached the corner where wine barrels were stacked on the right, his expression suddenly grew complex and he called out, "William!"

William hurried over and followed Aramis's gaze, discovering that a little girl was hiding in that corner.

The girl looked to be only about ten years old, with a single greasy braid. In the somewhat cold cellar, she wore only a thin dress. She crouched on the ground, tears flowing like continuous streams, but she bit her clenched right fist, making no sound.

She had also seen William and Aramis, which made her cry even harder. Her body trembled continuously, yet she still made no sound. Instead, she shrank her body even more, making her crouched figure appear smaller, as if hoping that this way, Aramis and William wouldn't see her.

William and Aramis exchanged a glance, after which Aramis asked in a low voice, "What do we do?"

"...Tie them up first," William said gravely.

Aramis acknowledged with a sound, then efficiently pulled out a rope from his pocket and bound the constantly struggling woman to a wooden beam in the cellar.

The woman was slender with quite charming features. The youthful Aramis took some liberties while binding her, though William didn't notice. He was looking toward the cellar entrance, where a series of footsteps approached. As the light dimmed, the vigilant Agin had already stooped to enter.

 

Chapter 3

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 3: Ruthlessness

After Agin entered the cellar, he exchanged a glance with William, and both asked simultaneously, "What's going on?"

William was asking if something had happened outside, while Agin was curious about the situation inside the cellar.

Agin paused briefly before answering first, "I heard a gunshot just now..."

"It's nothing," William replied, watching Aramis approach the little girl. "There are just a few people hiding in here."

At that moment, the little girl who had been pretending to be invisible could no longer maintain her charade. She began crying loudly and tried to flee, but Aramis quickly caught her and tied her up.

"Mom! Mom!" The girl's heart-wrenching screams were piercing in the narrow cellar. The woman whimpered at the sound, but with her mouth gagged by Aramis, she could only weep silently.

Agin remained completely unmoved by this scene. In this world's oceans, besides the unpredictable weather that terrified those who made their living at sea, there were also various sea monsters—creatures William had never heard of or seen in his previous life. From a transmigrator's perspective like William, Agin's former life was akin to being a fisherman in horror films like Jaws or Piranha—not just courting death, but practically embracing it!

When encountering pirates, there was at least some possibility of communication between fellow humans, but facing ferocious sea monsters left no chance even to beg for mercy.

From childhood, Agin had struggled to survive on the sea in a crude small wooden boat. This upbringing had instilled in him a fierce disregard for his own life, naturally making him far from soft-hearted.

While Agin's expression remained unchanged, William furrowed his brow. Having spent time together, Agin knew something of his temperament. Seeing this, he said in a low voice, "William, if you can't bear to let them fall into others' hands, then perhaps..."

As he spoke, Agin made a cutting motion across his throat with his hand, his meaning unmistakable.

William didn't respond. During his months as a pirate, he had participated in several naval battles—against both pirates and Marines. But battlefield killing and murdering civilians afterward were two entirely different matters. Before his transmigration, William had been an ordinary person, not a serial killer.

Yet he couldn't bear to hand these people over to the other pirates either. Having lived among pirates for quite some time, he knew their character all too well.

Perhaps in this world there existed noble pirates or justice-loving heroes among the pirate community, but in essence, pirates were primarily a group of lawless bandits. When they chose to place their lives on the gambling table of the sea, living day by day without thought for tomorrow, the constraints of civilized society's laws and morals had little hold on them. Being able to exercise self-restraint and not kill indiscriminately was already a rare quality among pirates—with emphasis on "rare."

No one would overestimate the morality of people who lived by plundering others.

William knew that on this ship, apart from a few young pirates like himself who had only recently joined and still retained some semblance of moral conscience, the older pirates who had tasted the thrill of plunder could almost be described as capable of any evil. Their captain, "One-Eyed" Danton, was even more ruthless.

According to the older pirates on board, Danton had supposedly set sail at an age similar to William's. But his fortunes were poor—he was captured by enemy pirates who tortured him for information about his companions. Danton never yielded despite enduring terrible suffering, even having one eye gouged out. When he finally escaped, he discovered he had been abandoned by his pirate comrades. From then on, Danton's methods of dealing with enemies and captives grew increasingly cold-blooded. Regardless of gender or age, anyone who fell into his hands would find death to be the easiest release. This made the pirates on his ship both respect and fear him—respecting his strong will that could endure torture, while fearing his brutal methods.

Danton never hesitated to use cruelty to intimidate the pirates on his ship, nor did he worry that such management tactics would provoke negative effects. Therefore, if the woman, boy, and little girl—any one of these three—fell into Danton's hands, the boy might be the only one with some use, possibly being taken aboard the pirate ship. The other two would have no chance of survival, and their deaths would be horrific.

William glanced at the little girl, now gagged and bound by Aramis, and ultimately walked over to the struggling woman and crouched down before her.

Initially, William lowered his gaze slightly, appearing to look at the ground, but then he raised his head and stared directly into the woman's eyes, saying coldly, "If you don't want you and your daughter to die, then quietly listen to what I have to say."

William didn't know whether it was the threat in his words that worked, or if both were effective, but the woman quickly grew quiet, looking at him fearfully.

"I don't want to harm women and children, but I can't guarantee that others outside will follow my code of conduct. Once we take the wine from here and leave, no other pirates will come back. If you hide here quietly, you'll be safe once we're gone."

After William finished speaking, the woman showed no reaction, as if she couldn't believe her luck could be that good.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" William asked as he stood up.

The woman's gaze had remained fixed on his face, so she tilted her head back dazedly. Hearing his question, she nodded instinctively.

William pulled the cloth from her mouth and looked toward the boy who had been knocked unconscious earlier and was still not awake, now also tied up by Aramis. He said, "When he wakes up, you'd better explain this clearly to him. I just don't want to kill you, but if you bring other pirates here and embarrass me, I will still take action."

The woman was already scared out of her wits and still didn't dare speak, fearing she might displease William. She just kept nodding, her face ashen.

William couldn't tell if he was merely making verbal threats or if he would actually follow through when the time came. People often speak of "holding" moral bottom lines—the word "holding" itself implies that moral boundaries aren't easily defended positions. One moment of carelessness, and they can easily be breached—by others, or by oneself.

Pirates were mostly a bunch of bullies who feared the strong but preyed on the weak, with short-sighted perspectives. In their worldview, compassion equaled weakness. William didn't want to display his mercy in front of these people.

William said nothing more to the woman in the cellar, gesturing for Aramis and Agin to help him move the wine out.

The three left the cellar, and William didn't mention untying the civilians they left behind. His earlier speech was primarily meant to prevent them from trying various schemes to escape their bonds; he wasn't naive enough to believe that if he untied them, they would definitely stay obediently in the cellar.

Once in the courtyard, Aramis suddenly spoke to William: "Even if you do this, they won't be grateful after they're rescued. You're smart enough to understand that, William. I really don't understand you."

William made no attempt to hide the disgust on his face as he responded, "I don't need their gratitude. I just hate living like locusts. Our way of life is truly despised by everyone."

Agin, who had been silent until now, said, "That's just how pirates are."

Aramis didn't speak, just shrugged his shoulders with an expression of complete agreement.

Chapter 4

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 4: The Marines

William said nothing more. Agin and Aramis, limited by their experiences, remained trapped in the mindset that "soldiers are soldiers, bandits are bandits." In their view, Marines should do what Marines are meant to do, and pirates should act as pirates are expected to act. But William knew better—these were merely labels. Labels change with actions, not the reverse, and one should never be confined by them.

Outside perceptions and designations shift with changing circumstances.

William had a subtle feeling that the Marine officer pursuing their pirate group was a clever person who understood the art of "flexible adaptation."

When the three returned to the tavern carrying wine barrels, the scene inside momentarily startled them.

The person William's group had left to keep watch was Vallon, a sturdy, short young man who had just turned eighteen. He had an honest face and a conspicuous bald head that seemed to gleam in the sunlight. Currently, he was awkwardly restraining a struggling woman, her arms pinned behind her back.

The woman's clothes were disheveled and her hair in disarray. William guessed she was a young, attractive girl—he had to guess because half her face was severely swollen with a visible handprint. Her right eye was so badly beaten that it could barely open, reduced to a mere slit. Blood seeped from her nose and the corner of her mouth, smearing everywhere, making it difficult to discern her original features.

Her well-crafted clothes had clearly been torn apart by brute force, revealing skin covered in bruises and bite marks that were difficult to look at.

Vallon, having spent years laboring in fields, possessed considerable strength. After struggling briefly, the girl had exhausted herself and could only futilely flail her arms.

William's brow furrowed once again. He set down the wine barrel and approached Vallon, asking, "What happened?"

As he spoke, he noticed a bloodstained knife discarded on the floor, seemingly taken from the kitchen, and asked Vallon, "Are you injured?"

"No," Vallon shook his head honestly. "This woman suddenly ran in with the knife. The blade was already bloodied when she arrived."

Seeing William examining the injuries on the girl's face, Vallon added, as if defending himself: "She was already like this when she came in. I didn't hit her. She seemed terrified when she saw me and tried to kill herself with the knife, so I restrained her."

William cursed under his breath. By now, Aramis and Agin had also set down their wine barrels and walked over. Aramis, quick-witted and having lived on pirate ships longer than anyone else in their group, immediately understood what had happened, just as William did. He snapped irritably at Vallon, "You fool, you should have let her kill herself."

"She couldn't go through with it," Vallon replied honestly, missing the reproach in Aramis's tone. "I didn't have time to stop her initially. If she'd been able to do it, she'd be dead by now."

Hearing Vallon's words, the girl struggled more violently, her face showing a mixture of regret and fear.

"Where did she come from?"

"I think I saw her run into the tavern just now!"

Before William could decide how to handle this girl, shouts from outside the tavern grew increasingly louder as they approached. Moments later, the tavern door was kicked open from outside.

Having suffered repeated abuse in a single day, the door finally gave way with a loud "crack" and fell to the ground. Several large boots trampled over it unceremoniously as a group of tall pirates filed in behind their leader.

Almost simultaneously with the door's collapse, William sprang to his feet. While the other three pirates in the room were distracted by the commotion outside, he quickly moved to stand before the woman.

"William, what are you—" Vallon, being closest, reacted first, but before he could finish his question, he saw William draw his blade and plunge it into the girl's body.

The swordsmanship techniques from his body's original owner's memories had never been so clear. William's blade struck precisely and swiftly at the girl's vital point. He had done his utmost to minimize her suffering.

Aramis let out a startled cry. The pirates entering the tavern witnessed this scene and erupted in angry roars. William vaguely heard someone shout "Stop!" but his attention remained entirely focused on the girl. He watched as her expression changed from terror to bewilderment. She blinked her uninjured left eye, and a few tears slowly trickled down. William blinked too, but nothing flowed from his eyes.

The sound of a blade cutting through air grew rapidly closer. William yanked his knife out with sudden force, drawing a spray of fresh blood, then raised his weapon to block a sword strike aimed at his head.

The attacker was the leader of the pirates who had stormed into the tavern. Bare-chested, he displayed a muscular physique with a shallow knife wound on his chest that continued to bleed, though he showed no concern for it. He glared at William with gritted teeth. Wielding his sword one-handed, after being blocked by William, he didn't continue his attack. Instead, with his free hand, he grabbed the shoulder of the girl whom Vallon had instinctively released, and tossed her toward his companions behind him.

Several pirates clumsily caught her. One examined her briefly before angrily shouting to the pirate confronting William, "Second Mate, this woman is dead!"

"I told you to stop—didn't you hear me?" The pirate called Bamond, the second mate, had eyes that nearly shot flames. He had pursued her all the way from another street, burning with desire for this beautiful young lady, only for William to kill her outright. His fury was extreme.

"What's the matter, Second Mate? Changed your tastes? Prefer making friends with the dead now?" William asked coldly, staring at Bamond.

"William, you dare talk back to me?" Bamond laughed in extreme anger. "Do you think you're somebody on this ship just because you've gathered a few snot-nosed brats around you?"

The pirates behind Bamond, driven by lust and now deprived of their outlet by William's actions, were equally enraged. They drew their blades and began to encircle William's group with malicious intent.

Aramis, Agin, and Vallon raised their weapons as well, watching their former comrades warily as they turned hostile.

"Hey, let's talk this through, Second Mate!" Aramis attempted to ease the tension, but Bamond paid him no heed.

"Scared now, are you?" Bamond smiled cruelly, about to order his men to kill William's group, when a series of coordinated shouts suddenly rang out.

The shouting drowned out women's screams, the crashing of overturned furniture, and the hurried footsteps throughout the streets, reaching the ears of Bamond and all the pirates inside.

"The Marines are here!"

If civilians were sheep and pirates were wolves, then this shout announced the arrival of hunters with guns!

Chapter 5

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 5: The Preying Sparrow

The sudden shout froze every pirate in the tavern. The two groups, who moments before had been at each other's throats, exchanged glances and, as if by unspoken agreement, all turned and rushed toward the exit.

At this point, William no longer concerned himself with supplies—what good was wine compared to one's life?

Pirates filled the streets. The experienced ones with quick reflexes were already sprinting toward the harbor, while the slower rookies still wore bewildered expressions.

Second Mate Bamond's earlier swagger had vanished, replaced by frantic urgency. But William had no time to mock him—he too was running for his life.

Danton's pirate crew had never been a match for the pursuing Marines. Now, with their ship damaged, supplies depleted, and caught mid-plunder at the docks, the pirates had neither the will nor strength to fight. This much was clear to nearly everyone aboard.

Their captain, Danton, had been lingering with his trusted men near the docks on the town's outskirts—likely planning to flee at the first sign of trouble. Any pirates who couldn't reach the ship in time would certainly be abandoned.

Fortunately, William had anticipated this. He and his companions—Agin, Aramis, Vallon—were not far from the harbor. After running a short distance, they spotted the docks and their pirate ship already unfurling its sails.

"Damn it!" Bamond and Aramis cursed in unison at the sight.

Luckily, such a multi-masted sailing ship required time and manpower to set sail. With the current skeleton crew aboard, by the time William, Bamond, and their respective groups scrambled on board, the battered vessel—resembling a legendary ghost ship—had only just begun to move slowly away from the dock.

Some pirates who had just arrived at the harbor stood on the shore, desperately shouting for the ship to stop. A few even leaped into the sea, frantically swimming after it, but they clearly had no chance of catching up.

Under the navigator's direction, William worked alongside other pirates, handling ropes and controlling sails. Captain Danton stood on deck, completely deaf to the pleas carried faintly on the wind. Those left behind had virtually no chance of escaping the Marines' capture—they were like fish in a barrel on this unfamiliar island.

As the pirate ship pulled away from the dock, Marine warships became visible to the naked eye, causing every pirate's heart to race. They couldn't possibly escape pursuit in their dilapidated vessel. Fortunately, for unknown reasons, the Marines didn't give chase. They merely fired a few cannon shots—more symbolic than practical—before heading toward the island.

...

In the town, the remaining pirates had been eliminated, but the survivors felt little relief. They gathered uncomfortably at the docks, watching as sailors in naval uniforms with blue neckerchiefs methodically carried various goods and valuables to the harbor.

The Marines' commanding officer, though short in stature, carried himself with authority. Draped in a white coat with golden epaulettes, he sat casually on a sofa that had appeared from somewhere, puffing on a cigar as he observed his men continuously transporting goods from the town. He exhaled smoke rings with evident satisfaction.

Among these items were things previously stolen by pirates from other locations, but most had just been plundered from this very town. Clearly, the short commander had no intention of returning anything to the local residents.

The townspeople, still shaken from the recent raid, could only silently fume, not daring to voice their anger. After a long while, the surviving mayor, pushed forward by the crowd, finally summoned the courage to approach the short commander.

The mayor, white-haired and skeletal, was quite tall. Fearing he might offend the commander, he bent his back as he approached, hunching like a hunchback, appearing almost comical. Cautiously, he began: "Sir, the townspeople are grateful to you and your men for driving away the pirates. We'd like to invite you and your soldiers to the tavern for drinks as a token of our appreciation."

The short commander looked at the mayor, raising an eyebrow noncommittally. "That's a good suggestion. Once we finish our business here, we'll consider it."

The mayor nervously wrung his hands and ventured: "Sir, since you've already defeated the pirates, perhaps you should rest first. These minor matters of inventory don't require your attention—the residents could simply reclaim their belongings."

As soon as the mayor finished speaking, the atmosphere noticeably chilled. A nearby officer who had been recording in a ledger paused and looked over. Several soldiers within earshot also turned toward them, their gazes distinctly unfriendly, causing the mayor to hunch even lower.

The short commander waved for the officer to continue his accounting, then said to the mayor with a sardonic smile: "These items are all pirate loot. We're documenting everything for proper confiscation."

"But most of these things were just stolen from our town..."

The short commander rudely interrupted, jabbing his finger forcefully into the mayor's shoulder: "Can you claim that all of these belong to your town?"

The mayor instinctively shook his head.

"In that case, we must first take these goods. We can't simply take your word for it. Once we've had time to investigate and sort everything out, we'll naturally return what belongs to your town."

The mayor opened his mouth but dared not accuse the short commander of lying or express his disbelief that anything would ever be returned.

The short commander, no longer interested in conversing with the mayor, ordered two strong soldiers to escort him away.

An officer approached at that moment and reported quietly: "We've searched everywhere. None of the pirates had sea charts on them. It seems there was no navigator among them."

The short officer smiled: "I expected as much. It seems those pirates aren't complete fools—they must have realized we were herding them."

"Should we continue letting them raid villages?"

"We'll decide at the next village," the short commander said, gazing at the mountain of goods accumulating on the dock. With satisfaction, he added: "Let these people gather more spoils for us. We might as well make the most of them before they meet their end."

Just as William had suspected—in a lawless environment, who says pirates must only plunder and kill? And who says Marines must always protect the people?

...

Aboard Danton's pirate ship, the crew had finally escaped the Marines and the devastated town. After working on deck, William finally had a chance to rest.

In an unfortunate encounter, walking through the ship's corridor, William came face to face with Second Mate Bamond. The man clearly noticed him too, and as they passed, he deliberately slammed his shoulder into William's, his face full of provocation.

However, both Bamond and William knew this wasn't the time for conflict. If they fought now, forget the pursuing Marines—the captain himself wouldn't let them off easily. So Bamond made no further move. Seeing no reaction from William, he smirked smugly, as if he'd won some great victory, and continued on his way.

William stood there for a moment, watching Bamond's retreating figure, and chuckled contemptuously.

Chapter 6

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 6: The Path of Life

William returned to his cabin to rest. With many pirates left behind, the room that originally housed five now contained only him and Vallon. The latter had already fallen asleep, snoring loudly. Exhausted from the day's ordeals, both physically and mentally, William collapsed onto his hammock and quickly drifted into deep slumber.

He didn't know how long he had been asleep when his hazy consciousness began to stir. Opening his eyes, he found himself surrounded by impenetrable darkness, with only a single source of light visible ahead.

As he approached, he realized the light illuminated a crossroads that resembled an ordinary rural path. The most peculiar aspect was that in this pitch-black environment, there were no lamps or torches—the light seemed to emanate from nowhere, yet clearly illuminated the intersection.

Directly opposite from William's approach stood three wooden signboards, each marking a path that extended in different directions. The paths did not intersect.

William wasn't particularly surprised. This strange place had first appeared in his dreams on the initial night after the Danton Pirates were pursued by the Marines. At first, he dismissed it as merely reflecting his anxieties—his fear of the Marines' pursuit and his unease about being a transmigrator—manifesting in dreams.

But when he found himself in the exact same place the following night, he finally recognized this wasn't an ordinary dream. There was no reason to dream of the identical place two consecutive nights with such vivid clarity, especially when he could remember every detail perfectly upon waking.

William was not an overly optimistic person. On the contrary, he was highly cautious. He immediately recognized this dream-like crossroads as a secret he must guard as vigilantly as his identity as a transmigrator. With meticulous wariness, he began examining this mysterious place, trying to determine its purpose.

This eerie phenomenon was as inexplicable as his sudden transmigration. There was no guide, no tutorial, nothing to explain its function. If user reviews existed for such experiences, he would have given it the lowest rating possible and filed a complaint. Unfortunately, reality offered no such option. He had no choice but to rely on his own observations since arriving in this world, combined with clues from the signboards, to piece together the nature of this place.

William approached the first signboard on the left. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the path behind it was obscured by a thin mist, barely visible from a distance. He had tried before and knew that although the mist looked as if it could be dispersed with a single breath, it was impenetrable unless the conditions on the signboard were met. No amount of force could break through it.

The wooden signboard, still rough with splinters as if freshly made, bore words etched into its surface:

[Desperate Counterattack]: A true warrior fears nothing. You choose to consolidate the Danton Pirates, become the new captain, and lead the remnants to defeat the pursuing Marines, embarking on the path of a rising pirate power.

Requirements: 30 Fragile Threads of Fate, 20 Tenacious Threads of Fate, 1 Unique Thread of Fate.

Rewards: Robust, Heroic Aura.

William had read the contents of this signboard many times. His eyes briefly skimmed over words like "path" and "rewards," which seemed laden with deeper meaning, before focusing intently on the "requirements."

These requirements were clearly the key to passing through the mist. Having experimented several times, William now instinctively raised his right hand and placed it on the signboard. Six fine threads emerged from the void—one end connected to the back of his hand, the other extending into the darkness.

Three of the threads were silver and extremely fragile. When William merely flexed his wrist, they snapped, only to slowly reconnect under some unseen force. These were evidently the "Fragile Threads of Fate" mentioned on the signboard.

The remaining three threads—one golden and two silver—were much sturdier. When William plucked them lightly with his left index finger, they emitted sounds like musical strings. The golden thread in particular glowed faintly, making it especially eye-catching. These were the "Tenacious Threads of Fate" and the "Unique Thread of Fate."

Each thread likely represented a person's fate. As these individuals grew closer to William, their destinies became intertwined with his, the strength of connection depending on their closeness and recognition of him.

The three exceptionally sturdy threads clearly represented Agin, Aramis, and Vallon. They had formed a tight-knit group with William aboard the ship, their fates bound together—they would rise or fall as one.

The three fragile threads likely symbolized people on the ship who were somewhat close to William and had some respect for his abilities. However, these connections were tenuous and could disappear at any moment.

William sighed, noting that during his last visit, he had observed five fragile threads. Whether because two people had been left behind at the docks or for some other reason, two of those threads had vanished.

As William removed his hand from the signboard, the Threads of Fate gradually disappeared. He moved to the second signboard:

[Enduring Hardship for Revenge]: Life is never smooth sailing. You choose to abandon futile resistance and surrender to the Marines. Perhaps in prison, you'll encounter unexpected opportunities and embark on an unpredictable path.

Requirements: Find and kill a person with a Unique Thread of Fate.

Rewards: Supporting Character's Halo.

The content of this signboard provided key evidence supporting William's theory about the Threads of Fate being tied to individuals.

Although in his previous life William had only watched a few scattered episodes of One Piece on television—most details and storylines now faded from memory—the ubiquitous nature of information in the digital age, combined with his fragmented memories and the constant bombardment of mobile game advertisements, had left him familiar with certain iconic elements of this fantasy world. After a period of observation since his arrival, he had finally determined where he was.

One Piece—a fantasy world resembling the Age of Exploration.

A person with a Unique Thread of Fate likely represented a character with significant narrative importance in the original story. This seemed to refer to Agin, whom William vaguely remembered seeing in the anime with matching physical characteristics and the same name. The glowing golden thread connected to William undoubtedly belonged to him.

Finally, William turned to the third signboard:

[Escape from the Tiger's Mouth]: A wise person acts with caution. You choose to leave the pirate crew, escaping both the Danton Pirates and the Marines' pursuit to chart your own path.

Requirements: 1 Tenacious Thread of Fate, 1 Unique Thread of Fate.

Rewards: Lightning Reflexes.

William stood before the third signboard for a long time. This was a new addition, confirming his earlier suspicion that these so-called "paths" manifested according to the thoughts and ideas forming in his mind—they were more tangible versions of "multiple-choice questions."

Chapter 7

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 7: The Multiple-Choice Question

The three paths all represented thoughts and ideas that had vaguely surfaced in William's mind. The first path, [Desperate Counterattack], likely stemmed from his daydreaming tendencies—inspired by movies and novels from his past life where protagonists, blessed with plot armor, could overcome any adversity and defeat any opponent with seemingly divine ease.

Unfortunately, such fantasies were far from reality. William knew this wasn't realistic. Though he lacked detailed knowledge of One Piece, he was at least aware it was a fantasy-themed shonen manga where major characters could single-handedly demolish entire buildings. The upper limits of their strength remained beyond his comprehension, but they undoubtedly surpassed anything from his former world by orders of magnitude.

In his previous life, William had been nothing more than an office worker who occasionally visited the gym. He wasn't an assassin or special forces soldier. He had no idea how to train himself to become the kind of otherworldly hero capable of effortlessly destroying buildings.

His current standing on the pirate ship was thanks to the swordsmanship foundation of his body's original owner. However, from the fragmented memories he had managed to access, it was clear the original owner hadn't been a diligent student. His current skill level was just enough to dominate among the small fry—nothing more.

If this mysterious space was truly, as William suspected, a manifestation of life's choices and a crossroads of destiny, then he couldn't treat it merely as a "cheat code" granted by his transmigration. He couldn't allow himself to be led by the nose, fixating on "rewards" whose effects remained unclear.

Becoming the new captain would require defeating—perhaps even killing—Danton. Afterward, he would need to defeat the Marines. William would inevitably end up on their wanted list, leading a life indistinguishable from any small-time East Blue pirate crew—constantly fleeing, raiding for supplies, and gradually accumulating bounty until he eventually encountered an insurmountable opponent. That would be the end.

William wasn't certain if "true warriors" were genuinely fearless, but he was convinced that true fools certainly were. The first signboard and its path, despite being the only one offering two rewards, likely represented the worst possible outcome.

From this perspective, the "requirements" listed seemed more like safeguards preventing William from acting foolishly. The demand for 20 Tenacious Threads of Fate and 30 Fragile Threads of Fate represented the need for 20 loyal subordinates and 30 fence-sitters leaning in his favor. With fewer than a hundred people aboard—even fewer after recent losses—meeting these requirements would mean over half the crew supported William, providing a foundation for him to seize power and accomplish the first objective.

Without this safeguard, if William recklessly attempted to overthrow the captain and fight the Marines alone, he would likely end up bound and delivered to Danton to be butchered. Not only would he fail the task and forfeit the rewards, but he might also lose his life.

The second path, [Enduring Hardship for Revenge], was equally unviable. This option seemed inspired by surrender scenarios from his past life. However, the Marines in this world clearly differed from the police in his former world. The laws and social order here were entirely different—who knew what might happen if he surrendered? Moreover, the requirement to kill someone with a Unique Thread of Fate undoubtedly referred to Agin, who had already aligned himself with William. How could he possibly choose to sever his own arm?

That left only the third path, [Escape from the Tiger's Mouth], as the most viable option from William's perspective.

Ordinarily, leaving a pirate crew would be nearly impossible. Pirate ships weren't cruise liners where one could come and go freely. Especially with the Danton Pirates, led by a ruthless veteran like Danton, William doubted he could escape even if he tried.

But now, with the crew in disarray and everyone harboring secret agendas, this presented a heaven-sent opportunity.

As a small-time pirate from an obscure crew, William remained beneath the notice of the World Government and Marines. He wouldn't have a bounty on his head, giving him the chance to escape and accumulate knowledge.

The original owner of this body had managed to secure his position on the pirate ship with only rudimentary swordsmanship. This demonstrated the importance of training and learning—both requiring time.

William placed his hand on the third signboard, and the Threads of Fate reappeared.

The prerequisites for the [Escape from the Tiger's Mouth] path were one Unique Thread of Fate and one Tenacious Thread of Fate. William had already met these conditions. As he acted, the mist at the crossroads slowly dispersed, revealing the path leading into the unknown.

Taking a deep breath, William stepped onto his chosen path. Suddenly sensing something, he turned to look back, only to see darkness reclaiming the area he had just left. It quickly enveloped the small clearing and the three signboards.

He couldn't help but wonder: what would happen if he didn't follow the instructions on the signboards?

But William dared not experiment recklessly. Who knew what might occur if this strange space encountered a "bug" like in a game? If it collapsed, what would the consequences be?

On the Danton Pirates' ship, William slowly opened his eyes to the sound of Aramis's soft call.

The time spent in the dream space hadn't affected William's recovery. Though momentarily disoriented upon waking, his eyes quickly regained their sharpness.

"Where's Agin?" William asked as he rose from his hammock.

"Just as you instructed after boarding, he's keeping an eye on the small boat," Aramis replied with a yawn. Noticing Vallon still sound asleep, he irritably smacked the bald man's head with a loud smack.

"Wake up! It's your turn for watch duty!" Aramis grumbled.

Vallon groaned, slowly rising with half-closed eyes, mumbling incoherently.

Ignoring his half-dreaming comrade, Aramis turned to William and asked, "With just the four of us, splitting the watch into two shifts is too exhausting. We won't last long. Should we divide it into four shifts?"

"No!" William firmly rejected. "It won't be for long. We must endure, no matter how difficult. Do you want to go down with this ship?"

Aramis acknowledged with a nod. Seeing the fatigue etched on his face, William patted his shoulder and said, "You can sleep here for now. I'll have Agin come rest here too later."

Yawning, Aramis nodded and collapsed onto William's hammock. William, meanwhile, guided the drowsy Vallon and quietly left the room.

Chapter 8

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 8: The Small Boat

Restlessness pervaded the Danton Pirates' ship. With supplies dwindling, water and food had been strictly rationed. Ironically, these men sailing across the vast ocean now seemed as though they were stranded in a desert—parched lips, haggard faces, and depleted spirits.

Perhaps due to this dire situation, the normally short-tempered pirates lacked the energy to quarrel or fight. Simply operating the heavy sails and ropes each day drained what little strength they had remaining.

William's group was no exception.

Supplies were a pressing concern for everyone aboard, which was precisely why he hadn't chosen to leave immediately.

The small boat wasn't designed for extended voyages and couldn't carry substantial provisions. To avoid alerting other pirates, William and his companions could bring even fewer supplies. Without a clear destination—somewhere they could dock and restock—setting out into the vast, uncharted sea on an under-provisioned vessel would be tantamount to suicide.

Moreover, vital navigation tools like logs detailing sea routes and island locations typically remained in the possession of the captain or other key personnel.

Since their last encounter with the Marines, William had noticed Captain Danton occasionally inspecting the small boat, ensuring its readiness as a potential escape route. William understood Danton's intentions and was surprised by the man's patience, having waited nearly two weeks without making a move.

That night, while keeping watch with Vallon and monitoring the small boat, William finally spotted the figures he had been anticipating—three large men quietly loading items onto the boat under cover of darkness.

Fatigue dulled William's reactions, taking him two seconds to snap back to alertness. He quickly nudged the half-asleep Vallon, instructing him to wake Agin and Aramis.

As Vallon hurried away, William cleared his throat softly and stepped from the shadows.

In the stillness of night, the sudden cough echoed like a spell of paralysis to the three busy figures. They froze mid-action before slowly turning to face William.

One of them, upon recognizing him, growled in a low, angry voice, "You again!"

Squinting in the dim light, William realized it was Bamond, the second mate with whom he'd had a previous altercation. Alongside Bamond stood Danton himself and the ship's navigator, Gore.

Bamond, infuriated by William's repeated interference, immediately reached for his sword, but Danton firmly gripped his shoulder, stopping him.

Danton studied William, who stood before the three of them with a faint smile and no trace of fear. He knew William had deduced their intentions and understood they couldn't afford to make a commotion. If they woke the other pirates, their escape plan would be ruined.

"William, what are you doing here?" Danton asked in a low voice, his hand still restraining Bamond. "It's not your turn to keep watch tonight."

"I noticed the captain hasn't assigned anyone to watch the ship these past few nights. I thought you might have forgotten, being preoccupied with so many concerns, so I took it upon myself to keep watch," William replied with a soft laugh. "It seems you didn't forget after all—you left it unguarded deliberately."

The situation was transparent. Apart from the hot-headed Bamond, both the cunning Danton and Gore had quickly realized that William had anticipated their plan all along and had been monitoring this spot specifically.

Gore, the navigator, sneered, "Who would've thought you were such a considerate person."

"Captain, planning to leave?" William asked, ignoring Gore's taunt. His smile widened as he heard faint footsteps approaching. "Why not take us with you?"

At that moment, Vallon's shiny bald head appeared from the corridor, followed closely by Agin and Aramis. Though their clothes were slightly disheveled, their hands gripped their weapons tightly. The four young pirates now stood against Danton's trio, creating a tense standoff.

Danton, the seasoned pirate captain, bore the weathered look of a man who had spent years braving the elements. His face was lined and rugged, his jaw and cheeks shadowed with stubble that hinted at constant shaving. His graying hair swayed messily in the sea breeze, giving him the appearance of an ordinary fisherman. The only feature that distinguished him was the cold, lifeless prosthetic eye in his right socket.

But at this moment, as Danton's one functioning eye locked onto William, its icy glare blurred the distinction between which eye was real and which was false.

The air grew heavy with silence as Danton seemed to weigh William's "proposal"—or more accurately, his threat.

Just as William braced himself, suspecting Danton might decide to attack, the captain finally spoke. "Fine. I'll take you with us."

"Captain?!" Bamond protested, his voice filled with disbelief.

"I make the decisions!" Danton snapped, shooting Bamond a glare. Lowering his voice so only his two companions could hear, he hissed through gritted teeth, "We'll deal with them once we're ashore."

Simultaneously, William leaned toward Agin, Aramis, and Vallon, whispering, "Wait for my signal before making any move."

The pirate ship had once possessed several small boats, but most had been destroyed during their recent skirmish with the Marines. Only two remained intact. Danton's original plan had been for his trio to take one boat and scuttle the other, leaving the rest of the crew with no means of escape and forcing them to serve as a distraction for the Marines.

Now, however, he had no choice but to abandon that plan. Instead, they split into two groups: Danton, Bamond, William, and Agin took one boat to cover the rear, while Gore, Aramis, and Vallon took the lead in the other.

Once aboard, they began rowing swiftly, gradually distancing themselves from the main ship. William scanned the boat and noticed that Danton and his men hadn't brought many provisions. "Captain, do we have enough food and water?" he asked.

Danton seemed amused that William still addressed him as "captain." Grinning widely, he replied, "Supplies were already running low. I couldn't bear to take too much and leave the others with nothing. The island we're heading to is less than two days away. We should have enough for the journey, but once we're there, I can't make any promises."

Agin scoffed at Danton's feigned benevolence, letting out a derisive snort.

Danton's lone eye shifted slightly as he turned to Agin, his expression one of mocking amusement. "What's the matter, young man? Struggling to accept reality? If I recall, you were a fisherman once. Then you must know the frustration of working tirelessly only to find your net too worn to repair. You must know the feeling of being strong enough to haul in the catch, yet powerless against tax collectors and bullies. Do you think every pirate sets sail for the sake of some empty promise about the Pirate King? Who knows if he wasn't just raving in his final moments!"

"We're despised pirates, hunted by the Marines, fighting among ourselves for scraps. The Marines call us rats and wild dogs, surviving in the cracks of society," Danton spat into the sea. "And those damn seagulls are right. I became a pirate simply to survive, and I'll tell you this—after surviving in those suffocating cracks for as many years as I have, you'll learn that humans can be far worse than rats or wild dogs. We'll do absolutely anything to survive. Leaving enough supplies for those back on the ship? That's already more mercy than they deserve."

Chapter 9

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 9: The Clash

Agin, not one for words, found Danton's reasoning twisted but couldn't formulate a rebuttal.

William, however, chuckled and exposed the truth. "Captain, you're just afraid that if you take too many supplies, the crew left behind will have no choice but to stay put, drifting aimlessly instead of continuing their voyage to draw the Marines' attention away from us."

Once Danton and his men took the last lifeboats, the remaining pirates would face two choices. Either they could pursue Danton out of desperation and try to kill the captain who abandoned them—though with Danton taking the only navigator, as well as the maps and logbooks detailing the nearby islands, the chances of finding him were slim. Or they could follow the only seemingly viable path: continue sailing and search for the next safe haven, unwittingly leading the Marines away from Danton.

Danton had deliberately brought his second mate Bamond while leaving behind the vice-captain, who knew a bit about navigation, to prevent the crew from falling into chaos and to ensure they had a leader to guide them forward—all part of his plan to escape unscathed.

Danton fell silent for a moment before speaking in a slightly hoarse voice. "The situation on the ship is simply a matter of whether we all choose to die together. Do you think staying behind would let us defeat the Marines? You're a smart man, William. In the East Blue, there's never a shortage of people driven to desperation by life, forced to take risks. If you stick with me, we can easily rebuild a crew—maybe even better than before. At worst, we can eventually find those Marines and avenge the ones we left behind."

William's gaze flickered, as if genuinely considering Danton's offer.

Bamond said nothing, but his disdain was clear as he spat into the sea.

The group exchanged no further words as they took turns rowing, guided by the navigator toward their destination.

Although Danton had extended an invitation to William, the two groups remained vigilant against each other. Another day and night passed in tense silence. Finally, early the next morning, the exhausted men spotted a small island on the horizon.

Everyone's spirits lifted, and they rowed with renewed vigor. William, however, caught Danton and Bamond off guard and signaled to Agin with a subtle glance.

When the boats were still a few hundred meters from the island, William, seated at the stern, suddenly whistled sharply. Drawing his curved blade, he slashed at Bamond's shoulder without hesitation.

Caught by surprise, Bamond cried out in pain and stumbled backward. However, William's hasty attack, combined with the cramped space of the small boat and his own fatigue, meant the blow wasn't fatal. Though injured, Bamond retained his fighting ability. Using his momentum, he created distance between himself and William, grabbed his sword—still sheathed—and swung it forcefully at William's waist.

"William, you really do have guts!" Bamond growled.

Simultaneously, Agin acted swiftly after William's signal, lunging at Danton with a dagger. But Danton's reflexes and vigilance far surpassed Bamond's. He dodged Agin's strike and roared like a beast, "You dare challenge me with just a few underlings?!"

Danton easily forced Agin back, then retreated a step to the bow of the boat. From his coat, he pulled out a flintlock pistol, already loaded, and aimed it at Agin.

Having planned for this, Agin reacted quickly. Seeing his ambush fail and Danton draw his gun, he didn't hesitate to dive into the sea.

Danton, losing his target, didn't bother searching for Agin. Instead, he turned the gun on William, only to see him follow Agin's lead and leap into the water.

Cursing under his breath, Danton shifted his attention to the other small boat. There, Vallon and Aramis, having heard William's whistle, had launched their own attack on the navigator, Gore. However, the two of them, less skilled than William or Agin, struggled to overpower Gore even with the element of surprise and a two-on-one advantage.

Danton raised his pistol to aim at Aramis, but before he could fire, the boat suddenly rocked violently. Caught off balance, he toppled into the sea with a splash.

Unprepared, Danton gulped down a mouthful of salty water. But what truly alarmed him was the agile, fish-like figure darting toward him underwater.

As a pirate captain who made his living at sea, Danton was a decent swimmer, but he was no match for Agin, who had grown up by the shore and spent his days fishing and diving.

Years of experience as a pirate had honed Danton's combat skills and physical strength, making him superior to both William and Agin. But William had planned from the start to exploit Danton's weaknesses while playing to their own strengths.

The outdated flintlock pistol, primitive in William's eyes, was useless underwater. Danton attempted to hurl it at the approaching Agin, but the water sapped the throw of its power. Agin easily dodged the feeble attack and closed in on Danton. With a quick twist, he evaded Danton's grasp and slipped behind him. One arm wrapped around Danton's neck, while the other reached for his prosthetic eye.

Panicked, Danton blocked Agin's hand and struggled fiercely, failing to notice William silently approaching from the side, a dagger clenched between his teeth.

William closed the distance and plunged the dagger into Danton's abdomen. The blade sliced through water, fat, and muscle with ease, tearing into the pirate's vulnerable organs. Blood billowed from the wound, staining the surrounding water crimson. Danton opened his mouth to scream, but only bubbles escaped. Seizing the opportunity, Agin pried away Danton's blocking hand and drove his fingers into the captain's eye socket, gouging out the entire prosthetic eye.

William withdrew his dagger and slashed twice at Danton's arms. The captain's flailing limbs went limp.

With Danton subdued, Agin glanced toward the boat's position and began dragging the barely-conscious captain toward the surface. As he neared the boat, Agin's head broke the water's surface, only for a glinting blade to swing toward him. Startled, he quickly submerged again.

On the boat, Bamond stood grimly, his teeth clenched. He kept his eyes fixed on the water, ready to strike at Agin the moment he surfaced again. But Agin, undeterred, continued bobbing up and down, refusing to give up.

Splash!

Just as Bamond swung his blade once more, William burst out of the water behind him, grabbing the side of the boat and vaulting aboard. Without losing momentum, he barreled into Bamond, who turned at the sound but was too slow to react.

Bamond attempted to slash at William, but William closed the distance and pinned Bamond's sword arm.

William's bloodied dagger struck again, plunging into Bamond's shoulder. The second mate finally lost his grip on his sword, and William seized the opportunity to snatch it away.

"You thought being Danton's dog made you someone important on this ship?" William sneered, twisting Bamond's body and kicking him to the deck.

Even then, Bamond remained defiant. "If you've got the guts, then kill—"

Before he could finish, William drove the sword into his chest. Staring into Bamond's eyes, he completed the sentence. "—kill you?"

William twisted the blade, then yanked it free. Moments later, Agin's head reemerged from the water. Seeing only William standing on the boat, he realized Bamond had been dealt with and called for help hauling Danton aboard.

William glanced toward the other boat. The fight there had ended as well, with Vallon waving frantically at him. Finally exhaling a long breath, William moved to assist Agin.

Chapter 10

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 10: The Treasure

William and Agin, along with the others, secured the small boats and dragged Gore's lifeless body and the groaning Danton ashore.

Despite facing Danton and Bamond, William and Agin had emerged unscathed. In contrast, Aramis and Vallon, who had the advantage of numbers against Gore, suffered due to their lack of skill. Aramis ended up with a slash across his chest from Gore's desperate counterattack.

William inspected the wound and found it wasn't too severe. He quickly bandaged it and instructed Aramis to rest nearby.

In his memories, One Piece was a classic fantasy adventure anime—a world where most characters possessed extraordinary strength, capable of feats that would make them legends in his previous life. Breaking bricks with bare hands or shattering stones with their chests was commonplace. What had felt like a life-or-death battle for William, a former white-collar worker, might have been nothing more than a skirmish between minor characters in the original series. This realization further solidified his resolve to find a place to properly train and improve himself.

"Am I going to die from an infected wound?!" Aramis's wails interrupted William's thoughts. "This place is so barren... not even birds would poop here!"

"Shut up!" Agin snapped, glaring at him. "I've told you and Vallon to learn some self-defense from William and me, but you always slack off. Look at you two—you couldn't even handle Gore by yourselves without getting hurt."

Vallon, rubbing his bald head, muttered quietly in his defense, "I never slacked off..."

"Right, Vallon's just too stupid! No matter how much you teach him, he can't learn," Aramis grinned, revealing his sharp little canine teeth. "Besides, smart people know how to slack off effectively!"

"You? A smart person...?"

"Enough of this," William interrupted, waving his hand as Agin frowned, ready to argue further. William walked over to Gore's corpse and rummaged through it, eventually pulling out a journal. He tossed it to Aramis, the only one among them besides himself with any semblance of literacy. "See if there's anything in there about navigation routes or island locations."

"I doubt it," Aramis replied habitually but obediently began flipping through the journal.

Pirates often struggled to transfer their loot through legitimate channels. Moreover, criminals like them wouldn't trust banks to store their ill-gotten gains. Thus, it was common practice among pirates to hide their treasures on remote, uninhabited islands off major trade routes. Stories of lucky individuals stumbling upon treasure maps were often the result of a pirate crew's demise, with the captain's or navigator's records of the treasure's location falling into others' hands.

Pirates treated these islands as oversized safes, and the records of their locations and routes were akin to the combination and key.

Although the Danton Pirates were a third-rate crew, even in the East Blue where pirate activity was weakest, they had accumulated a fair amount of wealth over the years. William was certain that Danton wouldn't leave such valuables to a doomed crew, nor let them fall into the hands of the Marines who were in pursuit. He must have kept the treasure's location with him, intending to use it for a comeback.

William approached Danton, who lay on the cold ground, unable to see and relying solely on his hearing to sense his surroundings. As he felt someone near him, he rasped, "William? Is that you?"

"Captain," William squatted beside him, gazing with complex emotions at the pitiful figure of the former pirate leader. Danton's situation was indeed miserable, but William had also witnessed his cruelty during their time together—cruelty not limited to civilians but extended to his own crew. Yet, labeling him as wholly deserving of his fate seemed overly simplistic.

As Danton had said, he had once been just an ordinary fisherman. When society drives someone to the brink, the only remaining path often leads to crime—a seemingly simple but perilous choice.

After the death of Pirate King Roger, the Great Pirate Era began. Countless individuals, whether noteworthy or not, set sail, leading to a surge in pirate numbers. This forced the Marines to concentrate their forces on the Grand Line, the epicenter of pirate activity, while scaling back their presence in the four seas.

This created a haven for lesser pirates who dared not venture into the Grand Line. Like locusts, they pillaged one place after another, leaving behind waves of impoverished civilians. Among these victims, some maintained their resolve and joined the Marines to fight pirates, while others, under the pressure of survival, chose the very path they once despised—becoming pirates themselves.

William's thoughts weren't born out of pity for Danton or newfound affection for this unfamiliar world. They stemmed from the realization that the circumstances leading to his possession of this body were a direct or indirect result of this environment. It was impossible not to feel something.

Danton, unaware of William's thoughts, grew increasingly anxious at his silence. "William, I'm already like this. You don't need to fear me seeking revenge. Spare me, let me live."

"You were once a figure of note," William replied. "They say you endured torture and the loss of your eye without begging for mercy. Why stoop to this now?"

The once-mighty pirate captain, now facing death, showed no more dignity than the civilians he had slaughtered. He continued pleading, "My eye wasn't taken during torture—it was removed by a doctor when I was a child due to illness. Those stories were lies I made up and had others spread around, just to intimidate people. I'm just a stray dog now, and you've already broken my paws. Please, let me go home. I still have family... a child!"

William glanced at Danton's injuries and then surveyed the desolate surroundings. Aramis's description of the place as "not even birds would poop here" was indeed fitting.

"I won't lie to you," William said, looking down at the man who had abandoned even his last shred of dignity—a sight both pathetic and somehow pitiable. "With your injuries, you won't survive on this island. The best I can offer is a quick death. Just tell me—do you have maps or notes recording the treasure's location? Have you hidden them somewhere?"

Aramis, having overheard William's question about the treasure map, had already sauntered over and was staring at Danton, ears perked for his response. When he heard William's blunt honesty, he frowned slightly in disagreement, though William caught his expression.

Danton fell silent upon hearing William's grim prognosis, offering no reply.

William turned to Aramis with a smile, then casually picked up a small stone from the ground. With seeming indifference, he began prodding the wound on Danton's arm with the rough stone, gradually increasing the pressure and widening the injury.

Danton's body trembled violently, and he let out a muffled scream. Aramis glanced uncomfortably at the knife wound on his own chest before quickly turning away.

Chapter 11

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 11: The Flames

Danton hadn't lied, at least not about fabricating the stories surrounding himself. Even pirates, it seemed, understood the value of packaging their image. It didn't take much effort for William to break through Danton's facade and extract the truth from the man whose resolve was far weaker than rumors suggested.

The map and notes detailing the location of the hidden treasure island were tucked inside the cover of Gore's journal. After confirming their authenticity, William decisively ended Danton's life.

Night fell on the desolate island, untouched by human presence for countless years. A bonfire crackled to life as Agin, returning to his old skills, caught several fish from the sea. The four men, clueless about proper cooking techniques, haphazardly prepared the fish and roasted them over the fire.

The taste was, unsurprisingly, awful, but it was enough to stave off hunger. William decided to conserve the supplies they had brought from the ship, using them only if absolutely necessary. According to Gore's notes, the island was off the main trade routes, visited only occasionally by small merchant ships transporting goods to remote villages. These ships might pass by once or twice a month, but William knew they had to prepare for the possibility of missing them or encountering unforeseen circumstances that might prevent the ships from docking.

Grabbing a stick, William frowned as he scratched notes into the dirt, planning their next steps. Having experienced the ups and downs of society, he always valued preparation and contingency plans. While dramatic gestures like "burning bridges" or "all-in gambles" might sound inspiring, relying on a single plan was reckless. When unforeseen events disrupted such plans, it became glaringly clear how unreliable it was to put all your eggs in one basket. Though his previous life hadn't reached the life-or-death stakes he faced now, William knew the pain of going hungry. As a leader, failing to prepare didn't just mean personal hunger—it meant letting down those who depended on him. For someone like William, who cared about appearances, that was a bitter pill to swallow.

"William, what's next?" Agin asked, poking at the fire.

Aramis and Vallon also turned their attention to William, waiting for him to make a decision. The three had tied their futures to William, and this trust brought both authority and responsibility.

"This is a good opportunity," William said, glancing at Aramis. "Since we haven't been targeted by the Marines yet, we have the time and energy to learn something useful. Didn't you mention a dojo with a good reputation before? What was it called?"

"Shimotsuki Village, Isshin Dojo," Aramis replied. Coming from a merchant family, he was the most knowledgeable about local affairs among the four. However, he clearly didn't agree with William's suggestion. "We've already dealt with Danton and got the treasure map. Why bother going to some rundown dojo to suffer? What's there to learn?"

William casually erased the Chinese characters he had written in the dirt—phrases like "Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun" and "With soldiers, you can be a king." Tossing the stick aside, he looked at each of the three men in turn. "Let me ask you: do any of you want to go home and live an ordinary life? Right now, we haven't attracted the Marines' attention yet. If we quit, it might still be possible."

The three shook their heads in unison. Though they hadn't yet tasted the thrill of piracy like seasoned pirates, witnessing the helplessness of civilians against marauding pirates had left an impression. Agin, Aramis, and Vallon all understood that in the Great Pirate Era, what seemed like a peaceful and stable life was as fragile as the idyllic scenes inside a snow globe—beautiful but easily shattered.

Each of them had been forced into piracy by cruel circumstances. Agin had been driven to the pirate life by the collusion of tax officials and local fishing bosses. Aramis had been forced aboard after bankruptcy and relentless debt collectors. Vallon's parents had hanged themselves after failing to pay crushing taxes following a poor harvest, leaving him with no choice but to turn to piracy.

Deep down, all three harbored a distrust and resentment toward the so-called "stable life." While being a pirate wasn't as glamorous or joyous as adventure stories made it seem, holding weapons and controlling their own fate offered a peculiar sense of security compared to the shackled existence they had known before.

Joining the Marines might have been an option, but William, having come from the orderly society of 21st-century Earth, knew that such a path was riddled with impossibilities. Criminals with serious charges joining the military was already far-fetched; rising to high ranks was downright absurd. Even passing the initial background checks would be questionable. From the start, William had dismissed the idea of joining the Marines, and Agin and the others, having been chased relentlessly by the Marines, felt a natural aversion to them.

"So, we're going to continue being pirates?" William turned to Aramis, his expression serious, his tone growing heavier with each word. "You ask why we need to learn something useful? Let me ask you: there are countless jobs safer and easier than being a pirate. Why choose piracy? To live a life where every day is uncertain? To enjoy playing cat-and-mouse with the Marines? To endure a life with no guarantee of tomorrow?"

"Maybe, if we're lucky, we can enjoy some fine wine after a successful raid and pocket a share of the loot—after the captain takes the lion's share. But if we're unlucky, you'll find yourself mourning fallen comrades while realizing the ship you just captured is filled with unsellable junk. Then, as you look at your injured and dead crewmates, you might face an irritable pirate captain who could take his frustration out on you at any moment. You might want to save some money, but who's to say you won't be killed tomorrow, leaving your hard-earned savings for someone else to enjoy? If you don't save money, it's even worse. If you're lucky enough to survive, you'll find yourself old, broke, and covered in scars, wishing you were dead. So tell me, Aramis, do you want that kind of life?"

Aramis lowered his head, unable to argue. William then turned his gaze to Agin and Vallon.

"Even in business, people expect returns proportional to their investments. As pirates, we invest our lives—the one thing we only get once—and hope for what kind of return? This?" William spat on the ground. "To hell with that. Are you satisfied? Because I'm not."

Agin asked solemnly, "Then what's your plan?"

William's eyes seemed to glow, whether from the firelight or the spark of ambition. "We'll form our own fleet. If we're going to risk our lives, why should we settle for being insignificant lackeys? Why can't we aim to become great pirates? The East Blue is known as the weakest sea for pirate activity among the four seas. Since Gol D. Roger, there hasn't been a truly remarkable pirate from here. Roger's execution in the East Blue is even seen as a humiliation by many. In the East Blue, countless pirates secretly hope for someone to rise and restore its honor—just like the Pirate King once did. You're all from the East Blue. Now tell me, don't you want to become that kind of legendary pirate?"

Chapter 12

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 12: The Statues

The three men looked at William as if seeing him for the first time. Up until now, they had followed him perhaps because of his superior combat skills compared to theirs or his more thoughtful and deliberate nature for someone their age. But this time, William revealed a charisma and persuasiveness that seemed far beyond his years and station.

Vallon couldn't quite put into words how he felt about William at this moment. Compared to the usual calm and meticulous William, this version of him felt uncharacteristically impassioned yet carried an aura that was undeniably commanding, even captivating.

"You're right, William. Besides, I don't want to go back to the life I had before," Agin said in a low, firm voice. "Back then, I could endure it, holding back until I couldn't anymore. But now, I don't think I can hold back even a little. If I were to return, I'd probably smash those bastards' skulls in with an iron rod the moment I saw them."

Aramis and Vallon didn't say anything, but their expressions showed they agreed with Agin. Once the taboo of killing had been broken, the weight of the existing order and laws that had once oppressed them no longer felt as heavy or intimidating.

William smiled faintly and pointed toward a small mound in the distance. Beneath it lay the bodies of Danton, Gore, and Bamond, hastily buried. Vallon, in his straightforward kindness, had even placed a crude wooden cross made of branches on top of the mound—a gesture so simple it was almost laughable.

"Now, I hope you understand why I insist we go to the dojo to learn something," William said, his tone calm but firm. "I don't want us to be like those third-rate pirates, running from the Marines like homeless stray dogs. Life is already hard enough as it is; I refuse to live so miserably. If we're going to set out to sea, we need to ensure we can stand our ground on the ocean and not be driven back to the shore like cowards!"

Once again, William found himself in that strange and mysterious space in his dreams. But this time, it was different from the past few nights. With the completion of the [Escape from the Tiger's Mouth] mission and his successful departure from Danton's pirate crew, the space had finally undergone a change.

Previously, the space had been monotonous and dull, consisting of nothing but a single path shrouded in darkness. It had been so barren that William sometimes wondered if he was merely treading in place. Now, however, the darkness receded like a tide, revealing a stone archway at the end of the path. Beyond the archway, a small plaza flickered faintly into view.

Eagerly, William quickened his pace. As he passed through the archway, the path behind him vanished into darkness, just like the first intersection he had encountered. He didn't bother to dwell on it and instead turned his attention to the plaza before him.

Compared to the first intersection, the improvements in this new area were immediately apparent. The dirt beneath his feet had been replaced with a stone-paved surface, and the plaza itself was significantly larger.

In the southeast corner of the plaza sat an antique wooden chest. William's curiosity was piqued as he opened it. Before he could peer inside, a mirror suddenly sprang out of the chest, floating in front of him and startling him.

He took two steps back, focusing on the man-sized mirror. Glancing at the chest, which barely reached his calves, he wondered just how large its internal space must have been.

The mirror's reflection, however, did not show William as he was in this strange space. Instead, it displayed his physical body in the real world—the young man sleeping soundly by the campfire.

A mysterious light shone briefly across the mirror's surface, catching William's attention. When he looked again, he noticed that the image of his real-world self had changed. His posture remained the same, but his body had become almost entirely transparent, including his skin and clothing. Intrigued, William stepped closer to get a better look. As if responding to his curiosity, the mirror zoomed in on his real-world body.

Countless points of light appeared out of nowhere, gradually covering his body. The lights concentrated especially around his brain and spine, rushing eagerly into those areas.

It seemed the mirror existed solely to show William this scene. Before he could study it further, the mirror returned to the chest.

William rushed to the chest, peering inside, only to find it was an ordinary wooden box with no signs of connecting to another space. The magical mirror was, of course, nowhere to be found.

Still shaken by what he had just witnessed, William turned his attention to the center of the plaza, where a thunderous noise erupted. He spun around just in time to see a tall stone pedestal rise from the ground in a matter of seconds.

Atop the pedestal stood two life-sized stone statues. William stared in astonishment. Though the statues were crudely carved from ordinary rock, their poses were unmistakable. One figure held a dagger, stabbing it into the abdomen of another figure that struggled in vain. It was a depiction of his life-or-death battle with Danton in the sea.

There were lines of text engraved on the front of the pedestal. William hurried over to read them carefully:

Morgan William [Obscure and Unknown] Sea Calendar 1490 – ??? Birthplace: East Blue - Faraise Kingdom Skills and Specialties: Beginner Swordsmanship Special Talents: Lightning Reflexes Achievements and Feats: Gekokujō (Overthrowing Superiors)

William's eyes lingered briefly on the words "Obscure and Unknown" before focusing on the listed specialties. The pedestal seemed to respond to his gaze, causing small lines of text to appear beneath each entry.

[Beginner Swordsmanship]: You are a novice in the art of the sword. No longer swinging it like a fire poker, you have barely scratched the surface of this discipline. [Lightning Reflexes]: Your reflexes are extraordinary, granting you an exceptional reaction speed. (Mission Reward) [Gekokujō]: Your wolfish ambition cannot tolerate others standing above you—whether in reputation, rank, or strength. (Reward for defeating former captain Danton)

William spent a long time studying the description of [Gekokujō]. He hadn't expected that killing Danton would earn him something akin to an achievement reward. He quickly grasped the meanings of "Beginner Swordsmanship" and "Lightning Reflexes." The former, categorized as a "Skill Specialty," referred to knowledge and techniques that could be accumulated through practice. While it could be improved without relying on the space's rewards, the latter, categorized as a "Special Talent," seemed to represent innate qualities that were difficult to change through effort alone. "Lightning Reflexes" had enhanced his nervous system's reaction speed, something he could understand but not consciously control.

However, the exact criteria for earning "Achievement Feats" remained unclear. Skill Specialties required consistent practice, and Special Talents likely depended on the space's intervention. Achievements, on the other hand, appeared to be rewards for specific actions or accomplishments. William was eager to uncover the rules governing these rewards.

As he pondered, he scanned the edges of the plaza, noticing no new paths extending outward. He wasn't surprised. This had happened before. The paths seemed to align with his intentions and goals. Having killed Danton, William had yet to set a clear short-term objective. While going to the dojo to learn swordsmanship was a tentative plan, it was an easily achievable one. With no bounties on their heads and enough money to pay for training, they could go to Isshin Dojo or any other place they chose.

It seemed the space wouldn't present a new path too easily.

 

Chapter 13

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 13: Lightning Reflexes

(Just received the site message—this novel has officially been signed! Double updates today as a celebration. Don't ask why I suddenly have so much time to write today (づ╥﹏╥)づ)

William was awakened by Agin. In this unfamiliar environment, the group maintained a degree of vigilance, taking turns to keep watch through the night.

Upon waking, William remained calm and asked Agin tentatively, "Did you notice anything unusual last night?"

Seeing Agin shake his head in denial, William breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that the strange phenomena he had witnessed in the mirror within the mysterious space—such as the sudden appearance of glowing points—were invisible to Agin.

The campfire under the night sky attracted many light-seeking insects, some of which even flew directly into the flames. One particularly fast insect darted toward William by the fire, only to be swiftly caught between his index finger and thumb in a single, effortless motion.

William's gaze flickered for a moment. While he couldn't say he felt drastically different upon waking, this instinctive action made it clear to him that the mysterious space had indeed affected his body.

He raised his right hand, bringing the struggling insect closer to his eyes. In the past, he could catch such insects if he focused intently, but doing so with such ease and control was rare.

Though it wasn't a complete transformation, William was already quite satisfied. After all, consistent training could also improve reaction speed, and increased potential would help him break through the limitations of his natural abilities step by step.

Japanese anime protagonists and key characters are often depicted as descendants of famous or powerful figures. William, though not much of an anime enthusiast, was vaguely familiar with this trope. In truth, it wasn't entirely accurate; rather, in fantasy-themed, action-driven anime, it was more common for protagonists to be portrayed as inheritors of legacy or "second-generation" individuals.

This narrative device likely stemmed from the genre's tendency to drastically increase the strength of newly introduced enemies as the story progresses. To maintain a sense of excitement and impact, even the weakest minions in new arcs were often stronger than previous bosses. In such scenarios, giving the protagonist a powerful lineage was the easiest way to justify their continuous growth and survival.

For a transmigrator like William, this trope was particularly frustrating. On Earth, even the most significant physical differences between ordinary people were not so exaggerated as to seem like entirely different species. But in fantasy-themed manga, the disparity was often immense. William worried that, no matter how hard he pushed himself—squeezing every ounce of potential from his body—his ordinary physique and talents might only make him as strong as a minor boss in the early stages of the story. If that were the case, many of his plans might ultimately prove futile.

Fortunately, the mysterious space in his mind had not let him down.

After killing Danton, William's luck seemed to take a turn for the better. Initially, he had been worried about what to do if they couldn't find a ship to leave the island. However, just three days into their stay, a merchant ship happened to pass by.

William, Agin, Aramis, and Vallon—four young men with innocent-looking faces—benefited greatly from their appearance. Although the ship's owner had some reservations about their weapons, the chaotic times made it difficult to judge someone solely by their armament.

Among the supplies Danton had brought on the small boat were not only food and water but also a stash of valuables. William left the kind-hearted ship owner a generous sum before leading his three companions off the merchant ship. They landed on a populated island along a major shipping route, transferred to several other vessels, and finally arrived at the destination Aramis had mentioned: Shimotsuki Village, home to the renowned Isshin Dojo.

Shimotsuki Village was located along a main trade route, making it a hub for passing ships and a center of frequent human activity. Information traveled quickly here, unlike in the remote, impoverished areas far from major routes.

In a society plagued by rampant piracy, a locally established martial institution provided some measure of security for the community. The dojo's master, reputedly a skilled swordsman, contributed to the dojo's significant local reputation.

William, ever resourceful, spent some time at the docks and local taverns, gathering information about Isshin Dojo and its master, Koushirou.

In a tavern, Agin watched as William chatted amiably with a scruffy, drunken sailor. When William returned to their table, Agin couldn't wait to ask, "So, what did you find out?"

Having drunk some alcohol to loosen tongues, William's current body—unlike his previous life's—was less accustomed to alcohol, leaving him slightly flushed. However, his mind remained clear. After composing himself, he said, "The dojo master seems to be genuinely skilled. This village, despite being on a major trade route and lacking a Marine base nearby, shows no signs of pirate activity. Either the pirates are blind, or there's something here that keeps them away."

Agin and the others smiled faintly, but William didn't appear relaxed. Initially, he had worried that the dojo and its master might lack real ability, wasting their time and money. But after gathering some information, he now had a new concern.

Koushirou, the master of Isshin Dojo, was highly regarded locally. His reputation stemmed not only from the dojo's role in deterring pirate activity but also from his willingness to charge modest fees for students. For families in dire financial straits, he even covered the costs of food and lodging for diligent, sword-loving students.

Isshin Dojo owned extensive farmland surrounding its premises, ensuring it had no trouble supporting its students. However, William learned that, despite the dojo's ample agricultural output, it frequently purchased additional grain. This detail, combined with other observations, made William suspect that Koushirou might have ulterior motives—perhaps aiming to win over the community's favor.

Vallon, after hearing William's analysis, said gruffly, "Maybe he's just paying off corrupt officials. You wouldn't believe how some tax collectors, annoyed by the scattered plots of small farmers, prefer to deal directly with prominent landlords. Then, those landlords collect taxes from the smaller farmers themselves. From what the locals say, the dojo master seems like a decent guy. Maybe he's shouldering the tax burden himself."

"Where does he get the money for that?" William countered.

Vallon rubbed his bald head and fell silent.

Aramis, seeing this, lowered his voice to persuade William, "William, we're pirates, remember? Why worry about his motives or whether he's doing something shady? If he really has ulterior motives, isn't that a good thing? Even if we slip up and he figures out we're pirates, he wouldn't report us to the Marines or refuse to teach us."

After thinking it over, William realized Aramis had a point.

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Chapter 14

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 14: Koushirou

(Recently, I've been reading The Record of Immovable Wisdom by Zen master Takuan Sōhō, and I feel a sense of spiritual purification. Transforming frustration into motivation, here's another chapter. Truly, I am a great, noble, single dog!)

The Isshin Dojo was located outside Shimotsuki Village, nestled among neatly arranged rice fields like a checkerboard. From a distance, the courtyard, with its blue bricks and white tiles, exuded an air of tranquility and charm.

The courtyard was designed in a Japanese style, surrounded by a single-layered wall that securely enclosed it. From within, the rhythmic chants of students practicing swordsmanship could faintly be heard.

William and his companions were neither the first nor the last group of young men to come here seeking to learn swordsmanship. The four of them approached the dojo respectfully, explaining their intentions. A middle-aged man with a full beard, dressed in a kimono, led them to the largest building within the courtyard.

The building housed a spacious hall, where over a dozen children in training uniforms were practicing the basic movements of swordsmanship under the guidance of an elderly instructor. Each move was executed with precision and discipline.

However, as young children are wont to do, their focus wavered when William and the others entered the hall after removing their shoes. The sight of four outsiders not wearing training uniforms inevitably drew their attention away from their practice.

Aramis's eyes had been darting around ever since they entered the courtyard, taking in every detail. When he saw the uniform green training outfits worn by the dojo students, he smacked his lips in dissatisfaction, clearly unimpressed by the design.

The person leading the children's training was none other than the dojo master, Koushirou. He was tall and wore a simple kimono. The loose-fitting garment made his frame appear somewhat slender. With his round glasses, black hair tied into a ponytail, and gentle demeanor, he looked more like a middle-aged scholar than a swordsmanship instructor.

Koushirou didn't seem bothered by the children's momentary distraction. After the bearded man explained William and his companions' purpose, Koushirou dismissed the children for a break. The kids, who had been sneaking glances at the newcomers, cheered at the mention of a break and dashed out of the hall in the blink of an eye. Only two particularly curious ones lingered by the doorway, peeking inside to observe the visitors.

Koushirou paid no attention to the lingering children. Instead, he carefully studied William and his group, while William discreetly observed him in return.

Koushirou appeared kind, with a constant smile on his face. His eyes, perhaps due to nearsightedness, were habitually squinted. Despite his gentle demeanor, William's preconceived notions made him suspect that Koushirou was far from ordinary.

Of course, no matter how extraordinary Koushirou might be, it was impossible for him to discern William's identity as a transmigrator. There would be no sudden reverence or dramatic gestures of recognition. Instead, Koushirou focused on examining the calluses on their hands and inquired about their prior experience with swordsmanship.

Agin, Aramis, and Vallon had relied on street-fighting tactics and practical combat experience in the past. Since joining William, they had picked up some rudimentary swordsmanship techniques from him, but they were far from proficient.

William, on the other hand, had received some formal swordsmanship training in the past, though his original self hadn't been particularly diligent. Nonetheless, he had a basic foundation, which meant he wouldn't have to start from scratch when learning again.

If Koushirou truly was a master swordsman, such details would be impossible to hide. If he were mediocre, there would be no need to hide them. Thus, William chose to be honest about their abilities. Koushirou didn't seem like someone who cared about rigid traditions or elitism; his questions were merely to determine the appropriate starting point for their training.

After chatting with the four young men for a while and learning that they were from out of town, Koushirou kindly offered them accommodations at the dojo. However, William politely declined.

They planned to stay here for an extended period to train and improve. William knew that Koushirou was not as simple as he appeared. Staying at the dojo would mean living under Koushirou's watchful eyes, which would be inconvenient.

Koushirou didn't press the matter further.

The group, led by the bearded man, paid their tuition fees, received their training uniforms, and were briefed on the dojo's daily schedule and rules. With the day growing late, they took their leave to find a place to stay.

Once outside the courtyard and away from prying eyes, Vallon finally voiced the question that had been bothering him. "That was the dojo master, Koushirou? He didn't look the part. He seemed more like... more like..."

Vallon struggled to find the right words, and Aramis stepped in to help. "Like a schoolteacher!"

Vallon clapped his hands in agreement, but he noticed that neither William, Agin, nor Aramis looked convinced.

Aramis pointed out, "Didn't you notice the calluses on his hands? You don't get those from just flipping through books."

Vallon fell silent. The group then discussed their accommodations. Aramis argued that their living quarters should be comfortable, especially since their training at the dojo was likely to be grueling. Agin, however, believed that their resources should be spent wisely, given that they didn't know the full extent of Danton's treasure.

As always, Vallon had no strong opinions, leaving the final decision to William, who chose a compromise.

Having navigated the complexities of society in his previous life, William and Aramis, the son of a merchant, quickly found someone akin to a real estate agent in the village. They arranged to view potential properties the next day and temporarily stayed at a relatively clean-looking tavern.

The following morning, the four of them spent the entire morning touring properties with the agent. They eventually settled on a small courtyard on the outskirts of the village. Though somewhat remote, it was reasonably priced due to its distance from the bustling dock area. Its proximity to the Isshin Dojo made it an ideal choice for them.

William, not one to fuss over trivial matters, didn't haggle much and paid for the property outright.

By the time all the paperwork was completed and the courtyard officially became theirs, it was already afternoon.

Aramis tried to use the day's busyness as an excuse to skip training at the dojo, but one sharp glare from William silenced him.

When they arrived at the dojo, they spotted a red-haired boy about their age standing near the entrance, craning his neck like a statue as he stared down the road leading to the gate.

At first, William thought the boy was waiting for someone else. But as they approached, the boy's head turned to follow their movements, his body remaining still. The sight was comical.

The red-haired boy widened his eyes but said nothing. Just as William and the others were about to pass him and enter the gate, the boy deliberately cleared his throat loudly.

William quickly pieced things together and turned around with an amused expression. Extending his right hand, he said, "My name is William. I'm guessing Koushirou-sensei asked you to wait here for us?"

The red-haired boy grinned, stepped forward, and shook William's hand. "Edmond. You guessed right. Sensei asked me to help you learn the basics of swordsmanship for a while... By the way, you're from out of town, right? Just wondering—are you pirates?"

The atmosphere froze instantly.

 

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Chapter 15

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 15: The Pirate's Son

(That indescribably tough day is finally behind us. Sigh. I did my part yesterday—now it's your turn, dear readers. I haven't begged for anything yet, so how about some clicks, favorites, recommendations, or even some dog food? Just a little, please! ヽ(ｏ`皿′ｏ)?)

"Are you pirates?"

The moment these words left the red-haired boy Edmond's mouth, the atmosphere became tense.

Aramis, who had been somewhat distracted, immediately straightened his posture, his right hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his scimitar as he fixed his gaze on Edmond, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.

Agin and Vallon were no less affected. The moment Edmond spoke, their expressions and demeanor shifted noticeably.

For the four of them, their pirate identities were a closely guarded secret. Yet here was a stranger casually blurting it out. William's stirring speech by the campfire that night was still fresh in their minds—a grand vision for the future that had ignited their youthful passion and dreams. To them, anyone who threatened to disrupt that vision was an enemy.

William had carefully planned the first step of their journey: to use their yet-undiscovered identities to train, grow stronger, and prepare for their eventual departure to the seas. If their pirate status were exposed now, it would undoubtedly throw a wrench into their plans.

Despite the tension, none of the three acted rashly. They were all waiting for William's lead.

In truth, William's heart skipped a beat when Edmond asked the question. But unlike the others, he maintained his composure. With a faint smile, he countered, "Of course not. Otherwise, why would Koushirou-sensei allow us to join the dojo and train?"

"Oh, I see..." Edmond sighed, sounding a bit disappointed. "I heard you were from out of town and was hoping you might be pirates or something."

William smiled as he walked alongside Edmond into the dojo. "Do you ask every out-of-town student the same question?"

Edmond nodded unabashedly and added, "Not many people come from outside, and most of them can't handle the tough training here. They usually leave after ten days or so."

Crisis averted. Behind them, Aramis rolled his eyes, and even the usually composed Agin couldn't help but twitch his lips.

The Isshin Dojo covered a large area. As Edmond led the group through the grounds, he casually introduced the environment while engaging in small talk.

After a while, Edmond circled back to the topic from the dojo's entrance, his tone tinged with a mix of encouragement and anticipation. "Aren't you curious why I was so eager for you to be pirates?"

Aramis and Agin ignored him, but Vallon, being the straightforward one, asked earnestly, "Yeah, why would you hope we're pirates?"

Edmond cleared his throat theatrically, puffed out his chest, and, with a self-satisfied yet deliberately hushed tone, as if sharing a great secret, said, "Because I'm a pirate too."

The moment he finished, he noticed that William and the others showed no reaction at all. Unaware that the four before him were actual pirates, Edmond let out a confused "Huh?" and asked, "Why aren't you surprised?"

"Surprised?" Aramis smirked sarcastically. "We're so surprised we're speechless. What's even more surprising is that this dojo takes in pirates. Koushirou-sensei didn't kick you out?"

Edmond faltered, stammering, "Well... actually, I haven't gone to sea yet."

"You haven't even set sail? Then at best, you're just a bandit!"

Edmond turned his head away, refusing to engage further with Aramis. His face, however, betrayed his embarrassment, his ears turning a noticeable shade of red.

William gestured for Aramis to stop teasing Edmond, and though Aramis shrugged nonchalantly, he turned his back to Edmond and William, making a mocking gesture by tapping his temple with his index finger. He then mouthed something to Agin and Vallon, his lips forming the silent word "idiot."

But Aramis's lip movements didn't say "idiot"—they said "Vallon."

Vallon glared at Aramis, fuming, while Aramis remained unfazed.

Meanwhile, William tried to lighten the mood. "Where I'm from, there are plenty of stories about pirate adventures. Lots of kids our age dream of becoming pirates."

Hearing this, Edmond's spirits lifted again, as if the earlier teasing had never happened. His reaction left William at a loss for words.

Big-hearted, perhaps?

"Most of those stories are probably made up," Edmond said smugly. "My father was a real pirate. He told me loads of adventure stories and even wrote a book about his experiences!"

As he spoke, Edmond's expression grew solemn. With an almost theatrical air of gravitas, he declared, "I am the son of a pirate!"

William's expression froze slightly. Turning his head, he asked politely, "Is your father still a pirate? What's his name? Maybe we've heard of him."

"...You probably haven't," Edmond replied after a brief silence. "We haven't heard from him in years."

The smirk on Aramis's face faded, and the atmosphere grew a touch heavier.

"Maybe he went to the Grand Line," William suggested, though his mind inexplicably drifted to the image of the groveling Danton. "A lot of pirates in adventure stories dream of going there."

"Maybe," Edmond said with a forced smile.

The group arrived at the training grounds, where the bearded man from the previous day, Pattinson, was overseeing the students' swordsmanship practice. Upon seeing William and his companions, Pattinson frowned and barked, "What took you so long?"

Turning to Edmond, he scolded, "Have you been telling the new students about your so-called pirate heritage again?"

A chorus of chuckles erupted from the surrounding students. Edmond lifted his chin, feigning indifference to Pattinson's tone, but William noticed his ears turning red once more.

Aramis, who had been mocking Edmond earlier, now seemed annoyed. Though he didn't dare confront Pattinson, he glared at the laughing students, his expression menacing.

Fortunately, Pattinson didn't press the matter further. He proceeded to demonstrate basic swordsmanship techniques, using the session as both a learning opportunity for newcomers and a review for returning students.

After some time, Koushirou arrived at the training grounds. He observed for a while before dividing the students into groups, pairing newer students with more experienced ones for detailed guidance. He and Pattinson continued to patrol the grounds, ensuring that the students practiced correctly and that the senior students didn't teach improper techniques.

William, Aramis, Agin, and Vallon were naturally grouped together, with Edmond assigned as their instructor.

Despite his earlier antics, Edmond was surprisingly serious and meticulous when teaching swordsmanship. His explanations were logical and clear as he demonstrated techniques such as proper grip, stance, footwork, judging distance, and breathing. After ensuring that Agin, Aramis, and Vallon had grasped the basics, he patiently broke down the movements for them.

Though William already had some foundation in swordsmanship, he didn't mind revisiting the basics, using the opportunity to cross-reference and solidify his knowledge.

 

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Chapter 16

Chapter 16: The Red Sea

《One Piece：The True Codex》William's current physical condition was leagues beyond what he had in his previous life. Human reflexes are guided by a series of processes, involving the spine, brain, muscle nerves, and more. The special feat granted to him by the mysterious space, Lightning Reflexes, enhanced not only his instantaneous reaction speed but also improved his coordination, making his swordsmanship training twice as effective with half the effort.

Many swordsmanship techniques and principles required just one demonstration for William to replicate them almost perfectly. If it were merely about rote memorization, William believed he could have managed it in his previous life as well, just like many quick-witted individuals. However, achieving precision in movement—where the eyes, mind, and hands work in perfect harmony—was no simple feat. This talent, William thought, likely surpassed even that of some professional athletes from his previous life.

Yet, as in his past life, the best athletes relied on more than just talent. It was the relentless, day-by-day grind of rigorous training that allowed them to fully realize their potential. Similarly, swordsmanship, while dependent on innate ability, offered no shortcuts to improvement. Even in a fantastical world, the path to enhancing physical prowess was still paved with monotonous, repetitive, and grueling exercises. Such training was not only a test of physical endurance but also a trial of willpower, especially for impulsive youths and children.

William's greatest advantage, however, lay in the mature soul residing within his youthful body.

That night, as William drifted into sleep, he once again found himself in the dream realm he referred to as the Plaza of Fate.

After days of toil, the plaza had undergone some changes. A path had finally appeared at one end, and like the plaza itself, this path was different from what he had encountered before.

The dirt road had transformed into a stone-paved path, the wooden signpost replaced by a stone stele. On either side of the path, wooden railings had appeared—though William doubted their usefulness. The low railings barely reached his thighs and could be easily vaulted over. What truly deterred him was the oppressive darkness surrounding the path, which seemed to repel any thoughts of venturing beyond.

At the entrance to the path, a thin yet impenetrable mist continued to block William's way.

He approached the stone stele to examine the newly revealed task.

[Sword Prodigy]
Reaching the pinnacle requires not only effort but also talent. There are many paths to pursue strength, and you have chosen swordsmanship. During your training at the dojo, elevate the skill feat "Basic Swordsmanship" to the next level.

Requirements:

• Skill Feat: "Basic Swordsmanship"
• Background Feat: "Apprentice of Isshin Dojo"

Reward:

• Special Feat: Zen Sword Arts

The absence of Threads of Fate as a requirement surprised William. He wasn't sure if this was unique to this task or if future tasks would adjust their requirements depending on the situation.

William had already obtained the skill feat "Basic Swordsmanship," but the newly introduced "Background Feat" left him puzzled. He had no idea how to acquire it. Nevertheless, the task aligned perfectly with his plan to spend time at the dojo honing his swordsmanship. Without even considering other potential paths, William leaned toward this one. He would have to figure out how to obtain the background feat or wait for other paths to reveal themselves before making a final decision.

In the blink of an eye, two months had passed since William and his companions began their training at the Isshin Dojo. During this time, aside from practicing swordsmanship, William had purchased numerous books on navigation and dedicated his spare moments to studying the art.

In this world, education was far less accessible than in William's previous life. Take William's small group as an example: of the four, only William and Aramis—whose families had once been well-off before their misfortunes—were literate. Recently, Edmond, who had been spending more time with them and seemed to be integrating into their group, was practically illiterate. He could only recognize a handful of common characters and often made mistakes, a situation mitigated only by his residence at the dojo. Given that his mother had passed away early and his father had disappeared at sea, there was no one to ensure he received an education.

From what William had observed, without mandatory education policies, only families that had solved their basic needs would consider sending their children to receive a basic education. Middle-class or wealthier families, with the resources and foresight, might invest in their children's training in specialized fields like navigation or medicine. Otherwise, such knowledge was typically passed down within professional families.

Under normal circumstances, individuals from such backgrounds wouldn't willingly become pirates. Even in William's previous life, navigators were considered skilled professionals. In a world dotted with islands and thriving maritime trade, navigators were in high demand and could easily find work on merchant ships. Some might even inherit family-owned vessels.

Navigators formed a vital part of the maritime economy, and those willing to become pirates were few and far between. Talented navigators were even rarer.

Understanding this context, it became clear why William, despite his exhaustion from daily swordsmanship training, still buried himself in hefty tomes to study navigation.

In ancient times, navigators who led fleets were held in high regard. Often, their status aboard a ship was second only to the captain. In an era of limited scientific understanding, the seemingly mystical art of navigation endowed them with a certain aura of authority. They sometimes doubled as spiritual leaders or counselors, soothing the crew's anxieties.

Whether for their indispensable navigation skills or their role in maintaining morale, navigators wielded significant influence among the crew. A captain seeking to maintain control over the ship needed the support of the navigator.

Though this world allowed individuals to fight entire armies single-handedly, unlike Earth, where a captain's personal combat prowess often sufficed to maintain order, the navigator's influence was still undeniable. After all, in the vast, unforgiving seas, no amount of strength could save you from starvation or thirst.

By mastering navigation, William would be well-prepared for his future—whether he founded his own pirate crew or infiltrated and took over another.

With swordsmanship to arm his body and navigation to arm his mind, William would be better equipped to survive and thrive on the seas.

After all, in the pirate trade—an industry that could be aptly described as a "red ocean"—there was no room for complacency.

Pirates on these seas not only had to contend with the Marines' relentless pursuit and bounty hunters' schemes but also had to guard against betrayal and competition from their peers. Danger lurked everywhere.

William's experience with the Danton Pirates had taught him that in this line of work, a crushing defeat didn't just mean losing your livelihood—it could very well cost you your life!

(Thank you all for your support yesterday! Special thanks to everyone on the fan leaderboard for your generous rewards. Today, there will be a double update—another chapter will be released at 8 PM!)

Chapter 17

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 17: News

In the year 1507 of the Sea Circle Calendar, a world-shocking event occurred at the Holy Land Mariejois. A fish-man named Fisher Tiger broke into the residence of the "Celestial Dragons," the world nobles, and freed thousands of enslaved individuals of various races, helping them regain their freedom. The World Government quickly labeled the incident as the "Mariejois Attack" and issued a high bounty on Fisher Tiger.

Newspapers everywhere sensationalized the event, with various reports and updates dominating the front pages for over a month. Even the East Blue, separated by the Calm Belt and tens of thousands of miles away, was no exception. News outlets in the East Blue weren't particularly concerned about the safety of the Celestial Dragons; in fact, they might have secretly wished for more severe attacks on them. They were simply following the nature of the media, chasing every hot news story.

In the Isshin Dojo of Frost Moon Village in the East Blue, the youths William, Aramis, Agin, Vallon, and Edmond sat gathered behind a rock garden in the dojo's courtyard, reading a newspaper. They were well aware of this major event.

As for why they were reading the newspaper there, the reason was simple. As the "leader," William not only burdened himself with extra tasks, learning navigation in addition to swordsmanship, but he also kept his subordinates, who often loitered around him, busy. He assigned Aramis the task of teaching the semi-literate Agin and the illiterate Vallon to read and do arithmetic. William supervised, requiring them to take turns reading the newspaper to him each afternoon during his sword practice, both to stay informed about the outside world and to check their learning progress.

Edmond, on the other hand, simply joined in of his own accord. William's small group of four was quite the anomaly among their peers at the dojo. Having experienced life as pirates, they habitually viewed the other trainees as immature, carrying a sense of superiority. Moreover, these seventeen- or eighteen-year-olds, who bought houses and new swords, displayed obvious financial independence, which made them the envy of others at the dojo. Their dedication to training was unmatched, and Aramis, Agin, and Vallon often surrounded William with a mix of admiration and reverence, displaying remarkable obedience and discipline when he assigned tasks.

In short, these four teenagers exhibited traits typically associated with "adults"—maturity, purposefulness, financial stability, and methodical behavior. This made them stand out among the dojo's students, and for people their age, being distinct was something to be emulated and admired. Unable to grasp the deeper meaning behind William and his group's actions, the other students could only label them as "cool."

Of course, due to William's "aura"—mainly his caution around Koushirou and his desire to avoid attracting attention by recruiting "followers" at the dojo—many students' attempts to join their group were unsuccessful, leading them to eventually give up.

Only Edmond, self-styled as the "pirate's son," felt he was a "cool kid" and believed his grand ambitions and goals were misunderstood by the conservative peers around him. As he spent more time with William's group, he felt he had found his place, shamelessly tagging along and eventually joining them, thanks to his earlier role in helping them learn swordsmanship.

Humans are social creatures, inevitably influenced by the judgments of others, whether actively or passively, using them as a reference for their own choices. Seeing Aramis, Agin, and Vallon almost blindly follow William, combined with William's self-discipline and maturity in both swordsmanship and daily affairs, Edmond naturally placed himself alongside Agin and the others.

If William's appearance had suggested he was over thirty, or if Aramis, Agin, and Vallon hadn't been the initial core of the group, Edmond likely wouldn't have made such a quick decision.

"One, two, three... eight, nine! Nine digits," Vallon counted with his fingers, struggling over the newspaper's content, "That's... that's over two hundred million in bounty!"

He seemed to want to express some sentiment but only managed to say, "That's a lot of money!"

Edmond snatched the newspaper, his nose almost touching it as he scanned the bounty line, half envious and half jealous, saying, "It's not that much, and it's inflated. If he hadn't attacked the Celestial Dragons' residence, there's no way the bounty would be that high."

Aramis glanced sideways at Edmond and then looked away. After spending over six months together, he had come to understand Edmond's peculiar mindset, knowing that to Edmond, a pirate's bounty wasn't a sign of increased Marine pursuit but rather a dazzling badge of honor.

After all, he was the kind of oddball who proclaimed himself a pirate to everyone he met. The fact that he hadn't been mistaken for a real pirate and jailed by the Marines was sheer luck.

"Just attacking the Celestial Dragons' residence warrants such a high bounty?" Agin questioned.

"If you disrupt a farmer's chicken coop, causing chaos and letting all the poultry escape, the farmer would hold you accountable," William remarked meaningfully. "And the Celestial Dragons are far more significant figures. If you let their 'livestock' escape, do you think they'd just settle for some compensation like a country farmer?"

"Livestock?" Edmond glanced at the newspaper again, struggling to accept it, "These are people, thousands of people!"

"Thousands of slaves," William corrected. "To the Celestial Dragons, they're akin to livestock, perhaps even less so, because farmers need livestock to make a living, whereas the Celestial Dragons... keep them merely for amusement."

The four young men found it hard to accept, and naturally, they didn't think to ask William how he knew so much about these matters.

William took the newspaper from Edmond, clicking his tongue at the front-page photo of the Holy Land on fire. A sense of schadenfreude subtly surfaced in his heart, not from the memories of "Sun Bo" but from those of the original owner.

Had he not escaped successfully, Morgan William might have been one of the thousands of slaves freed, provided he hadn't been killed by his original "master," Saint Tordos.

But reality had no room for "what ifs." Now, someone else had met their end, and William sneered.

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Chapter 18

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 18: The Past

The final words of the Pirate King Roger before his death triggered a massive rush to the seas. Among those who set sail were ambitious individuals aiming to become the next Pirate King, reckless vagabonds seeking momentary indulgence, and desperate criminals broken by harsh realities.

This situation left the Marines stretched thin, struggling to capture the ever-increasing number of pirates. Simultaneously, competition among pirates became fiercer—if everyone turned pirate, with no merchant ships or bustling towns to plunder, what would they have left to steal?

In nature, when predators vastly outnumber their prey, they either starve, eliminate the weak until balance is restored, or adapt by changing their feeding habits to find new ways to survive.

Humans, being smarter than animals, wouldn't just wait to die. Many pirates quickly and intuitively learned a new skill—slave trading.

What a fitting job for pirates! When they defeated a fellow pirate with a high bounty but couldn't claim the reward from the Marines or World Government due to their own pirate status, they could choose to sell their defeated foes as slaves.

Given the chaotic nature of pirates, they didn't limit themselves to just selling fellow pirates. Before the Great Pirate Era, slave trade existed in this world, but it was during this era that slave trading, especially of humans, peaked in a short time.

As mentioned earlier, William's original body owner was a victim of this environment.

When William was twelve, he and his mother encountered pirates on their family ship. In despair, his mother took her own life, while William, being young and handsome, survived and was sold as a slave by the pirates. After several transfers over half a year, he ended up in the hands of the Celestial Dragons.

The Celestial Dragons, a group with a long heritage, still maintain a culture of slavery, enthusiastically keeping slaves of various races, including humans. As part of this culture, slaves owned by the Celestial Dragons are branded with the "Hoof of the Celestial Dragon," marking them as "inferior humans."

Regardless of your race or original status—be it criminal, merchant, or even prince—once branded by the Celestial Dragons, your identity was reduced to that of a slave.

The original owner of the body had thought of escaping or seeking help, but even declaring himself an illegally traded slave by pirates was futile. His frequent attempts only earned the disdain of his master, Saint Tordos. During a banquet, Tordos suggested using slaves for amusement.

Saint Tordos and another Celestial Dragon, who owned a slave boy of similar age to William, staged a performance to "pass the time" and "have some fun."

William and the other boy were locked in a cage, forced to fight like animals. William, leveraging his early sword training, won the fight. However, this experience planted seeds of fear in his young heart, leading him to behave obediently thereafter.

His behavior soon gained him Tordos's trust, who believed he had "tamed" William. To flaunt his "taming" skills, Tordos would occasionally remove William's restraining collar in secure places like on ships or at his residence, to demonstrate to other Celestial Dragons.

In those situations, Tordos wasn't worried about William escaping, and William knew he couldn't flee. He was biding his time.

The opportunity came in 1505 of the Sea Circle Calendar, two years ago, when Saint Tordos visited the East Blue, the weakest pirate region among the seas, as a gesture of confidence in the Marines' work. Naturally, he brought along his "obedient" slave from the East Blue—Morgan William.

During this trip, William patiently waited for his chance until a massive storm hit, which he saw as his opportunity. Amidst the chaos, he dragged Saint Tordos into the sea, killing him without regard for the consequences, and climbed onto a small boat he had previously untied and let fall into the sea.

The small boat, miraculously not capsized by the waves, was soon found by a pirate ship, and William was forcibly recruited. Shortly after boarding, he fell ill with a high fever due to the storm and stress.

The pirates intended to toss him overboard to fend for himself, but he unexpectedly recovered quickly. This was when "Sun Bo" took over William's body.

As for hatred towards the Celestial Dragons, the current William naturally didn't feel it as deeply as the original owner, who had suffered both physically and mentally. However, this didn't stop William from opposing the Celestial Dragons. Besides his modern perspective, the original owner had killed a Celestial Dragon during his escape.

The Celestial Dragons' privileges are numerous, but the most well-known and status-revealing is the protection set up for their safety. If offended, even an Admiral would have to intervene. Fortunately, no one realized a lowly slave had killed a Celestial Dragon. The chaotic situation on the ship meant no one cared about a slave's life, and no one imagined anyone daring to kill a Celestial Dragon.

To this day, neither the media writing the news nor the World Government conducting searches believed anything other than a weak Celestial Dragon being swept away by the storm, disappearing without a trace, possibly perishing at sea. No one saw it, and no one imagined a lowly slave committing regicide.

The young men discussed the newspaper content for a while, venting their discontent towards the privileged Celestial Dragons. However, whether it was the two hundred million Beli bounty, the Grand Line, or the Celestial Dragons and the Holy Land, they all seemed too distant, so they returned to their main topic.

William folded the newspaper and tucked it into his coat. He had set up a study in the courtyard to store newspapers and organize information about the outside world. Whenever he found something useful, he noted it in his journal.

After putting away the newspaper, he turned to the bored Edmond, who was biting his nails, and asked, "How's the task I assigned you coming along?"

The others looked at Edmond, who responded with a pained expression, "I wasn't too familiar with those guys before, so I'm still in the process of reaching out. I can't just ask to meet their boss right away; they'd definitely refuse."

Ignoring his complaints, William stood up, dusted off his clothes, and calmly instructed, "Speed it up on your end."

Edmond nodded obediently. The task wasn't difficult; otherwise, William wouldn't have entrusted it to him alone. Edmond originally lived in a village on the same island as Frost Moon Village. William wanted him to invite the local boss of that village to discuss a business deal with William.

Chapter 19

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 19: The Living Sword

In the history of William's previous life in Japan, during the early Tokugawa Shogunate, Zen master Takuan Soho authored The Unfettered Mind, elaborating on the concept of "the unity of mind and sword" and "Zen and swordsmanship as one." He integrated Zen philosophy with sword techniques, emphasizing the role of the "mind" in swordsmanship and strategy.

The renowned "Sword Saint" Miyamoto Musashi also stressed the importance of mental adjustment alongside physical sword skills in his book, The Book of Five Rings.

It could be said that historical swordmasters not only excelled in swordsmanship but also mastered Zen principles, often practicing meditation to refine not only their physical skills but also their mental and spiritual states.

That was in William's past life, where there were no supernatural powers. In this world, the cultivation of the mind and spirit is even more critical. At Koushirou's dojo, named the Isshin Dojo, the swordsmanship style practiced is called the Isshin Style, which places greater emphasis on the cultivation of the "mind" compared to other schools of swordsmanship.

The steady rain falling in the distance seemed to cast a veil over the courtyard of the Isshin Dojo, giving the scene a soft, dreamlike quality. Normally bustling with activity, the dojo was much quieter today. However, the central hall of the courtyard was an exception, where a group of young disciples had gathered. At first, they chatted casually, but it soon devolved into playful scuffling and laughter.

The once-quiet hall became noisy and chaotic until Koushirou entered through a side door. At Pattinson's loud command, the disciples obediently knelt in their designated spots.

Since it was raining today, Koushirou decided to gather all the disciples in the main hall for a lecture. William, having participated in such lessons multiple times, was already familiar with the format. However, unlike William, who carried the soul of an adult, the other young disciples weren't particularly fond of the abstract and philosophical discussions about swordsmanship. They much preferred practicing their sword techniques.

Koushirou held his famous blade, the Wado Ichimonji, in his hand—a sword so well-known in the dojo that nearly everyone recognized it. Much like Koushirou himself, the Wado Ichimonji appeared unremarkable at first glance, deceptively simple in its appearance. Only when unsheathed did its extraordinary sharpness, capable of slicing through steel like butter, become evident.

Edmond stared intently at the Wado Ichimonji, his gaze akin to that of a lecherous man eyeing a stunning beauty. Every time Koushirou brought out the Wado Ichimonji, Edmond would act this way, leading William to suspect that Edmond might have a fetish for objects.

As usual, William and his small group—including Aramis—were seated together. Aramis leaned in and whispered, "Do you think he's skipping the 'philosophical stuff' today? Why else would Koushirou-sensei bring out his sword?"

"How would I know?" William replied without even turning his head.

Fortunately, Koushirou soon answered Aramis's question after delivering a brief lecture on swordsmanship theory.

He unsheathed the Wado Ichimonji, its gleaming blade gradually revealed from the plain scabbard, catching the attention of everyone present. Edmond's expression grew even more entranced.

Noticing Edmond's gaze, Koushirou turned his head, smiled at him, and beckoned him forward.

When the carefree Edmond approached, Koushirou extended the Wado Ichimonji toward him and, with his signature gentle smile, asked, "Do you like it?"

Edmond nodded enthusiastically, like a chicken pecking at grain. Seeing this, Koushirou moved the sword closer to him and encouraged, "Take it."

In disbelief, Edmond grabbed the Wado Ichimonji, one of the 21 Great Grade Blades renowned even beyond the East Blue. He stood there grinning foolishly for a moment before turning to Koushirou, waiting to see what he would be asked to do next.

The dojo had several bundles of bamboo mats tied together, used by the disciples for sword practice. These mats were one of the dojo's most frequently consumed resources, and a few were currently set up in the hall.

"Cut through that bundle of bamboo mats," Koushirou instructed, pointing at one of the bundles. Suppressing his excitement, Edmond quickly walked over to the mats.

Though usually a bit careless, Edmond understood the gravity of the moment. He composed himself, took a step forward, and executed a clean diagonal slash. The bundle was effortlessly sliced in two.

Such a feat, while impressive in William's previous world, was not extraordinary in this one, especially at the Isshin Dojo. Moreover, Edmond was wielding a renowned blade, so the other disciples didn't find it particularly remarkable. Only Edmond, who had personally wielded the sword, truly appreciated its quality. He finally understood why the 21 Great Grade Blades were so highly regarded. As he swung the Wado Ichimonji, he felt no resistance, as if the blade were slicing through air. Cutting through the bamboo mats felt as easy as a hot knife through butter.

This sensation made Edmond's gaze toward the Wado Ichimonji even more fervent.

Koushirou nodded slightly at Edmond's performance. He wasn't assessing the results but rather observing Edmond's form and the way he applied force during the swing. Edmond's fundamentals, it seemed, were solid.

However, Koushirou soon retrieved the Wado Ichimonji from Edmond, sheathed it, and placed it gently on the ground. From somewhere, he produced a much plainer-looking katana and handed it to Edmond.

Pointing at another bundle of bamboo mats, Koushirou repeated the same instruction: "Cut through that bundle of bamboo mats."

Edmond unsheathed the new sword to inspect it, only for his expression to sour further. The other disciples, upon seeing the blade, let out a few muffled chuckles.

The katana was extremely worn, its blade covered in nicks and even rust. It was clearly a neglected weapon of considerable age. If any of the disciples had been caught with such a sword, they would have been scolded harshly by Koushirou or Pattinson.

Nevertheless, Edmond wasn't deterred. He approached the bamboo mats again, took a deep breath, and repeated the same motion—a step forward followed by a diagonal slash.

The bundle was once again cleanly sliced in two. However, this time, not only Koushirou but also the other disciples noticed a subtle difference.

When Edmond had used the Wado Ichimonji, slicing the bamboo mats felt no different from swinging the sword through empty air. His form, posture, and movements were flawless from start to finish. But with the dull and damaged katana, the resistance was palpable. Edmond, worried about the blade breaking, had adjusted his movements, making them slightly less fluid than before.

Many students assumed Koushirou's lesson was merely to emphasize the importance of maintaining and caring for one's sword.

Aramis pouted. "I get why Edmond is so obsessed with the Wado Ichimonji now."

"It's not that simple," William replied.

As soon as William finished speaking, Koushirou turned to the bamboo mats, pointed at them, and, with the same tone and words, said, "Cut through that bundle of bamboo mats!"

The hall fell silent. This time, Koushirou wasn't addressing Edmond but the Wado Ichimonji itself, as if it were a living being.

Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Dead Sword

The disciples in the dojo exchanged puzzled glances. After Koushirou uttered those words, he stood with his hands behind his back, a faint smile lingering on his face. The young disciples, their minds brimming with wild imaginations, couldn't help but feel suspicious at his demeanor. They waited patiently, but no miracle occurred—the Wado Ichimonji didn't suddenly leap up and slash through the bamboo mat as they had envisioned.

"Sensei?" A slightly immature voice filled with confusion broke the silence in the hall.

Finally, Koushirou moved. He unsheathed the Wado Ichimonji once more, holding the blade upward, and set it on the ground. Then, he picked up a bundle of bamboo mats and tossed it onto the sword.

The Wado Ichimonji, being one of the 21 Great Grade Blades, was naturally razor-sharp, but it wasn't some mystical artifact imbued with supernatural sword energy. Without someone wielding it, the bundle of bamboo mats merely landed on the blade, embedding itself slightly before rolling off. It didn't split into two like its predecessors.

Koushirou smiled as he retrieved the bamboo mats and the Wado Ichimonji, then addressed the group: "A sword is important—extremely important—to a swordsman. But it is not the essence of a swordsman. The measure of a swordsman lies not in how sharp their blade is, but in their own capacity."

He pointed to Edmond, who was still standing there awkwardly with the rusty katana in his hand. "For a swordsman, the person is the foundation. Without a fine blade, even with a rusty sword, a true swordsman can still perform their craft. But if the blade remains without the person, no matter how sharp it is, what use is it? It cannot move on its own."

After finishing his explanation, Koushirou paused, his gaze sweeping over the disciples with a hint of expectation. "Do you understand?"

The response was a chorus of synchronized head-shaking. Among the disciples attending the lecture, the oldest was no more than eighteen or nineteen, while most were between eleven and twelve, with some as young as eight or nine. Such abstract, philosophical teachings were not easy for them to grasp.

《One Piece：The True Codex》Vallon shook his head so vigorously he resembled a bobblehead, drawing a chuckle from Aramis, who found the scene amusing. Aramis excelled at tasks requiring hard work and perseverance, but this kind of intellectual exercise was undoubtedly his greatest weakness.

William, however, didn't join in the head-shaking. His heart was shaken, but not by Koushirou's lecture. While the lesson was intriguing and insightful for someone with a mature soul like his, it wasn't enough to leave him stunned.

What truly shocked William was the sudden appearance of an image in his mind as Koushirou concluded his lesson. It was the text engraved on the stone platform in the Plaza of Fate, and now it had been updated with a few new lines:

Background Feat:

[Apprentice of the Isshin Dojo]: Your swordsmanship training originates from the Isshin Dojo in Shimotsuki Village of the East Blue. During the early years of honing your craft, the teachings of Koushirou, the dojo master, have greatly benefited you. This fact is widely recognized.

This was the first time William had experienced the influence of the Plaza of Fate outside of his dreams!

Recalling the changes in the Plaza of Fate after completing his first path, William began to suspect that the Plaza's capabilities and influence might expand as he successfully navigated more paths.

That night, William could hardly wait to fall asleep and return to the Plaza of Fate. The plaza appeared largely unchanged, except for the addition of a new path named [The Opportunist], which seemed related to his upcoming plans. However, he had no intention of pursuing this path for now.

Approaching the path of [Sword Prodigy], William saw that the stone tablet at the entrance listed the requirements: the technical feat [Basic Swordsmanship] and the background feat [Apprentice of the Isshin Dojo]. Having met both criteria, the fog that had previously obscured the path began to dissipate as he stepped forward.

Without looking back at the plaza, William pressed onward, his curiosity piqued about what lay beyond. Would the next plaza bring new functional enhancements, further validating his theories?

As he left the shadowed plaza behind, William strode forward. For some reason, he felt as though the darkness on either side of the path was stirring, as if it were ready to surge forth like a tidal wave and engulf both the path and himself.

Suddenly, a golden thread, accompanied by several silver threads, shot out from William's wrist. After trembling briefly in midair, they extended toward the end of the path, disappearing into the distance beyond his sight.

The golden Thread of Fate, representing Gin, and the resilient threads tied to Aramis, Vallon, Edmond, and others gently swayed. An invisible ripple emanated from them, causing the darkness on either side of the path to boil momentarily before calming once more.

William's eyes gleamed as he observed the Threads of Fate, which were seemingly guiding and supporting him along the path.

...

William still didn't know the full depth of swordsmanship in this world. Even now, he hadn't glimpsed the threshold for advancing his skills. And yet, his strength had increased tenfold compared to a year ago!

On the bright side, the task he had assigned to Edmond was finally making progress.

Over the past year, William had been diligently reading newspapers and gathering information. These papers ranged from local to regional and even global publications. Beyond staying informed, William was searching for a sustainable, long-term way to generate wealth. After all, even a mountain of gold could be depleted if squandered recklessly.

More importantly, he sought to establish a local network of connections and resources that would serve him in the future.

What distinguishes one pirate from another?

Take William's previous world as an example: Henry Morgan and Francis Drake were notorious pirates in the Atlantic and the Caribbean, engaging in heinous acts like slave trading. Yet, when they returned to England, they were celebrated as heroes, even rising to positions of power and nobility.

These pirates looted overseas, sold their spoils in English-controlled territories, purchased valuable supplies, and received intelligence support from allies. This image starkly contrasts with the traditional notion of pirates aimlessly wandering the seas, hoping to stumble upon merchant ships by sheer luck.

In reality, Spanish transport ships might have barely left port before these pirates received detailed intelligence on their routes, stops, and schedules, all delivered by informants.

The power of great pirates and sea lords extended far beyond the decks of their ships. Their influence encompassed vast networks of connections and resources, enabling them to maintain formidable fleets and recover from setbacks. Even when injured, they had safe havens to regroup and heal.

If the vast ocean were likened to a sprawling savanna, then pirates like Henry Morgan and Francis Drake were wolves—predators with keen senses and powerful tracking abilities. From the moment their prey left its den, they could smell its enticing scent and add it to their menu.

In contrast, pirate crews like Danton's were blind on the seas despite having eyes. They plundered whatever they stumbled upon, stashed their loot on uninhabited islands to rot, and were constantly on the run from the Marines. Such crews weren't even wolves; at best, they were headless flies.

A modern man from the 21st century, thrust into a world with even harsher living conditions, wasn't about to risk life and limb just to become a headless fly hunted by the Marines. Such a losing proposition was beneath William's contempt.

Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Wine as Precious as Gold

While William was engrossed in his sword training at the Isshin Dojo, the outside world continued to move forward, unaffected by his low-profile lifestyle.

In the East Blue, the capital of the Navia Kingdom, Kalmar City, had turned into a sea of revelry.

For first-time visitors to Kalmar, such as Sassarian, the president of the Flash Gold Guild, the scene was bewildering. Everywhere—on the streets, in alleys, outside shops, even at doorsteps—locals were clutching bottles of liquor, indulging in drunken revelry. Many were even handing out bottles of alcohol to passersby, shouting at the top of their lungs, "One last celebration, mate!"

As Sassarian walked down the street, someone shoved a bottle of gin into his hands. Despite the somewhat ostentatious name of his guild, Sassarian himself was a refined and courteous middle-aged man with a gentle demeanor. He attempted to pay for the bottle, but the drunkard waved him off and staggered away.

A drunk man pushing a baby carriage passed by, and Sassarian instinctively glanced inside, only to find it filled entirely with liquor bottles. Before he could process his shock, the commotion at a nearby intersection caught his attention.

A group of people carrying a wooden coffin adorned with wreaths approached, laughing and joking. An oversized bottle of liquor was ceremoniously placed inside the coffin. One of the wreaths bore the inscription:

《One Piece：The True Codex》"Rest in Peace."

...

Compared to the bustling, chaotic streets of the commoners' district, the aristocratic quarter of Kalmar City was much quieter. In stark contrast to the noise outside, a group of affluent men and women were gathered in a grand hall, preparing to listen to a speech.

An elderly man with a slender frame slowly ascended the stage. He was dressed in a well-tailored black tailcoat, his graying hair meticulously combed back, and his neatly trimmed mustache gleamed under the light. Despite his advanced age, he exuded an air of vitality and sharpness.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began.

"Many years ago, in this very city, there was a happy old man. He once believed himself to be the luckiest person in the world because he had a harmonious family and a pair of filial children. For a man whose temples were turning gray, nothing could bring more comfort than these."

"Until one day, he received devastating news..." The old man paused, blinking as if struggling to endure the memory. Then he continued, "His youngest daughter, as pure as an angel in his memory, had been harmed."

Gasps of shock rippled through the audience, but the old man ignored them and pressed on. "The culprit was a drunk—a sailor from the docks. The old man was consumed by grief and vowed to seek justice for his daughter, to punish the criminal. But when he finally confronted the remorseful, ordinary man—the very man standing here on this stage today—he couldn't help but ask himself a question: Was the sailor the only culprit?"

The old man's tone grew stern. "No! The culprit was also alcohol! This vile beverage is the companion of thieves, the friend of harlots. It numbs the brain, easily demolishing the moral barriers constructed in moments of rationality. The more widely it spreads, the greater the harm it causes."

"How many families have been torn apart by husbands who drink excessively? How many children have suffered unhappy childhoods because of it, only to grow up and choose the path of piracy, joining the ranks of those drunken scum of the seas?"

Raising a glass of juice toward the royal palace, the old man declared, "Fortunately, we have a wise king who loves his nation and cares for his people. He refuses to let his citizens be poisoned by alcohol any longer. At last, he has agreed to issue a prohibition decree three days from now. Our nation will finally be free from the scourge of this slow-acting poison!"

The audience rose to their feet in applause, whether out of genuine agreement or mere politeness. After all, the man on stage was no ordinary speaker—he was Count Arcadio Buendía, the Minister of Finance of the Navia Kingdom and the head of the prestigious Buendía family.

As Arcadio stepped down from the stage, his son Aureliano approached him and whispered, "How could a lowly dockworker ever have come into contact with Remedios?"

Arcadio shot him a glance. "Don't let the truth ruin a good story, you fool. Instead of wasting your time chasing women, why not focus on building connections with the families of other ministers?"

"Wine is as precious as gold. I'm not the only one who can see that."

...

The island where William currently resided was home to two villages: Shimotsuki Village, near the Isshin Dojo, and Momiji Village, where Edmond had lived.

The two villages were separated by forests and hills. The distance between them was inconvenient—too far for easy travel yet too close for maritime trade to be worthwhile. To this day, neither village had considered collaborating to build a proper road.

In the woods outside Shimotsuki Village, Edmond was biting his nails, engrossed in a book titled The Travels of Glass Bead Island. The book was so well-worn from repeated readings that its edges were frayed, and the cover was tattered.

William already knew that this was a novel written by Edmond's father. Another book by the same author, Terror on Beast Island, had also been published, albeit under duress, making both books rare collector's items. William had read them as well. While The Travels of Glass Bead Island was somewhat engaging, he found Terror on Beast Island too far-fetched to take seriously.

Nevertheless, Edmond, now eighteen, still enjoyed rereading his father's novels with great enthusiasm.

What was even more surprising was that Vallon also loved the books. At the moment, he was standing behind Edmond, craning his bald head over Edmond's shoulder to read along with equal concentration.

The three of them waited a while longer until voices from outside the woods signaled the approach of others. Edmond tried to put away his book, but Vallon snatched it and continued reading.

William tilted his head, listening closely. He could make out one voice scolding loudly and another responding meekly.

Soon, the voices' owners emerged from the other side of the woods and came into view.

The newcomers were three young men. The leader, around twenty-three or twenty-four years old, had messy black curls plastered to his head. He wasn't particularly tall but was stocky, with slightly swollen eye bags and faint dark circles. A prominent hooked nose, which might have once been handsome, appeared crooked as if it had been broken. A diagonal scar ran across his left eye, splitting his eyebrow into two sections. His left eye twitched habitually, and combined with his perpetually downturned mouth, he exuded an air of defiance.

Behind him were two burly subordinates. One was short and stout, with curly black hair, a snub nose, and small eyes. Despite his stocky build, he appeared robust. The other was tall, with sleek black hair styled with pomade that gleamed in the sunlight. Compared to his companions, his features were handsome and well-proportioned.

The scar-faced man seemed particularly displeased with his tall, handsome subordinate, scolding him incessantly until they reached William and the others.

"Tony," Edmond greeted the scar-faced man with a grin. "What did Manny do to upset you this time?"

Tony shot Manny a glare before turning to Edmond. "This guy is obsessed with his looks. He wasted time styling his hair with pomade before leaving, which made us late."

"We haven't been waiting long," William said with a smile.

Tony finally turned his attention to William. His gaze lingered on the katana at William's waist before he casually lifted the hem of his shirt, placing his hands on his hips to reveal the flintlock pistol tucked into his belt.

Chapter 22

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 22: Baring Fangs

"So, you're William?" Tony smirked meaningfully, sizing up William from head to toe. "I've heard about you from Edmond. I've always been curious about what makes you so special. Guess I'll find out today."

Although Edmond usually resided at the dojo, he owned a house in Momiji Village, which he rented out to cover his living expenses and tuition fees. As such, he would often return to the village.

With Edmond's bold and brash personality, it was no surprise that he often made a scene, even back home. While he wasn't the type to bully the weak, he was far from well-behaved. He had taught a lesson to tenants who tried to dodge rent, brawled with drunken sailors, and even roughed up fellow freeloaders when they tried to dine and dash. His reputation in Momiji Village was, to say the least, formidable.

Tony, on the other hand, was the local boss of Momiji Village. His uncle, the village chief, gave him a certain level of protection, allowing him to gather a group of loafers and thugs to form a small but active gang. They made a living collecting protection fees and smuggling goods through the docks.

Naturally, Tony had heard of Edmond, this troublemaker, but the two had mostly kept out of each other's way, wary of one another.

Of course, Edmond would never admit to being wary of Tony. When William tasked him with contacting Tony, Edmond was initially reluctant, feeling as though it would be an admission of inferiority to someone he'd always butted heads with. However, after William's repeated urging, Edmond finally reached out to Tony. After a few attempts, Tony agreed to meet, if only to see what kind of person could make Edmond run errands so willingly.

Tony's curiosity had been piqued. He wanted to know what kind of man William was, someone who could make Edmond—a person often compared to Tony in Momiji Village—work for him. Tony had once considered recruiting Edmond into his gang, but his efforts had failed.

For someone like Tony, face was everything. In his peculiar logic, he felt that William had somehow stolen the upper hand, and this made him bristle like a dog confronting an unfamiliar creature. His words were laced with provocation, as if testing William's authority.

Vallon glanced up at Tony, who spoke with a tone of mockery and arrogance, before calmly tucking the novel he had been reading into his chest.

William's smile remained unchanged as he asked curiously, "Oh? And now that you've seen me, what do you think?"

"You're just average," Tony said dismissively, waving his hand. "Let's cut the crap. Edmond said you have some money-making ideas. That's the only reason I came to this godforsaken place to meet you. I can't figure out why you're so timid. Why not talk on my turf? Why sneak off to a place like this?"

"Tony, watch your mouth!" Edmond frowned, his tone sharp.

Tony leaned back, grinning exaggeratedly at William. "Wow, I'm impressed. How did you manage to wrap him around your little finger like this? He's practically fawning over you!"

Edmond was furious, but William placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. Tony and his two henchmen, who had tensed up at Edmond's reaction, instinctively reached for the pistols at their waists. Tony did the same.

When William stopped Edmond from acting, Tony relaxed slightly, moving his hand away from his pistol. His eyes flickered as he tried to gauge William's strength.

"It seems you're not too keen on meeting me to discuss business?" William asked with a chuckle, his tone light and approachable.

Tony spat on the ground, his expression filled with disdain. "Do you think I'm as gullible as that simpleton next to you? You want me to come out here to talk? You sent someone to find me, so clearly you're the one who needs me! If you're asking for something, at least show some respect! Tell me your plan. If it works, I'll cooperate, but I'll take the lion's share of the profits. If it's no good, we'll part ways quickly. Understand?"

After listening to Tony, William turned to Vallon and Edmond, speaking softly, "Gin was right. These small-time thugs really are just bullies who prey on the weak."

"Speak up if you have something to say!" Tony frowned, his irritation growing.

William didn't respond. Instead, he spread his hand and made a small gesture toward the trees above.

A sharp whistle echoed from above Tony and his men. Before Tony's stout subordinate, Angie, could react, a shadowy figure leapt down from a tall tree, landing squarely on him.

Thud!

Angie collapsed to the ground with a mouthful of blood, his arm bent at an unnatural angle. He didn't even have time to cry out.

The tall and handsome Manny, reacting faster, managed to leap backward and avoid the same fate. However, it only delayed the inevitable.

With a slight bend of his knees to absorb the impact, Gin took a large step forward, closing the distance to Manny, who was reaching for his gun. With a swift motion, Gin struck Manny's xiphoid process with the hilt of his katana. The blow compressed the cartilage near Manny's heart, leaving him gasping for air.

Among William's group, Gin's talent was second only to William's. Unlike Vallon's straightforwardness or Aramis's impulsiveness, Gin was quiet and diligent. His rigorous training over the past year had significantly improved his skills. Had he not held back, this strike could have fractured Manny's xiphoid cartilage, potentially piercing his heart.

Even so, Manny, despite his impressive stature, was left breathless and disoriented. He collapsed to the ground, his vision blurred. Any attempt to struggle was halted by the cold blade of Gin's katana pressing against his throat.

While Gin subdued Manny, Aramis, who had taken down Angie with a single strike, charged at Tony. However, Tony, as the leader of his gang, was no pushover. Aramis's footing was unsteady after landing, and Tony easily dodged his hasty attack.

Unfortunately for Tony, this wasn't a one-on-one duel. Vallon had already barreled toward him like a meteor. Without slowing down, Vallon turned slightly, using his shoulder as a battering ram, and collided with Tony like a charging rhinoceros.

Tony was sent flying, crashing into a tree with a loud thud before slumping to the ground, motionless.

William strode over to Tony, who lay sprawled on the ground. Just as he approached, Tony suddenly propped himself up, a pistol in his right hand aimed at William.

But William had anticipated this. The moment Tony moved, William raised his foot and stomped down hard on Tony's gun hand.

Bang!

The bullet fired wildly into the air, its destination unknown. Tony let out a muffled cry, his fingers still gripping the trigger as William's boot pressed down, intensifying the pain.

Chapter 23

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 23: What Is Desired

"You were right, I did need something from you before, but now it's you who needs me." William ground his foot down, still smiling.

In the end, even though the Danton Pirates, where William previously belonged, were not well-known, surviving on the sea was a high-risk occupation, with cannonballs flying and bullets whizzing during battles. This was something a land-based thug like Tony couldn't imagine. In terms of threat level, William never considered Tony and his gang seriously, so no matter Tony's attitude, William remained unfazed.

"What?" Tony asked through gritted teeth.

William kicked the pistol aside and lifted Tony with one hand, saying, "Now, it's you who needs to beg me to spare your life!"

"In your dreams!" Tony, with the bravado typical of a small-time thug, attempted to fight back. He produced a dagger from somewhere and tried to stab William.

The outcome was predictable. William easily snatched the dagger, grabbed Tony by the throat, and slammed him against the tree behind them.

William exerted so much force that the large tree shook. Tony sat dazed at its base.

A few leaves dislodged by the impact fell on Tony's head, and William brushed them off like an old friend, saying, "Your life is in my hands now, so you need me. We should be able to have a proper conversation."

"If you've got the guts, then do it!" Tony glared at William defiantly.

William frowned, puzzled. "Why do people like you always shout when their lives are in someone else's hands? Do you think I'm like you, just a small-time thug who only makes threats and doesn't dare to kill?"

Without waiting for Tony's response, William turned to Gin nearby and said, "Kill that guy Manny."

Without hesitation, Gin flipped Manny over and pinned him to the ground.

Manny tried to scream, but Gin's iron grip silenced him, forcing his cries back down his throat.

Pressing his knee against Manny's struggling body, Gin slowly drove his gleaming katana into Manny's lower back, inch by inch.

Manny's tears and snot flowed freely, his struggles soon turning to convulsions. Tony watched, drenched in cold sweat, especially unnerved by Gin's habitual indifference, which made him seem like a seasoned killer.

"Stop, stop!" Tony stammered.

Gin didn't stop until William instructed him to. He withdrew the katana, and blood quickly soaked the ground beneath Manny, who was barely breathing.

Tony's face turned ashen, drenched in sweat. Edmond didn't look much better. Only William, Gin, Aramis, and the others remained unfazed, even the usually straightforward Vallon didn't blink.

After all, Edmond was a self-proclaimed pirate, whereas William and the others were genuine pirates.

"He's dying," William said, his gaze shifting from Manny. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Tony's sweat, speaking slowly, "Once he's dead, it'll be your other henchman next, then you. So, your time is running out."

"What do you want?" Tony asked, his voice trembling.

At this moment, Aramis dragged the unconscious Angie over by his hair, saying boldly, "No need for so much nonsense. These weaklings are useless. We should kill them, then head to Momiji Village overnight, eliminate the gang leaders, and take control of his crew. Do you think these cowardly thugs would dare rebel?"

"Don't kill me!" Tony pleaded urgently. "My uncle is the village chief. If you kill me, you won't be able to hide it, and you can't control my forces in Momiji Village."

William waved Aramis away, dismissing his attempt to scare Tony, then said to Tony, "Don't worry, if you're willing to cooperate, I won't resort to such measures."

"I'll cooperate, I'll cooperate," Tony nodded vigorously like a pecking chicken.

"Stop his bleeding!" William ordered Gin loudly, then turned to Tony and said, "Rest assured, I have a profitable venture in mind. But I need your connections with your uncle and your local influence, not your toy soldiers."

He casually toyed with the dagger he had taken from Tony, sneering, "...not your juvenile gang."

William fished a pack of cigarettes from Tony's pocket, lit one for him, and asked, "Can you read? Do you follow the news?"

Tony's face remained pale. He nodded, then shook his head.

William pulled out several newspapers from his coat, marked with red circles around various headlines and articles:

"Wise or Foolish? Norton I Declares Prohibition!"

"...If this news is true, there will no longer be places to publicly drink in the Navia Kingdom."

"Finance Minister's Speech—'Alcohol is the Root of Crime!'"

...

William doubted Tony could comprehend the articles fully, so he explained, "The king of Navia Kingdom, Norton I, reportedly despises alcohol."

William pointed to a section of the newspaper encircled in red, detailing the Navia Kingdom and King Norton I: "He never drinks. Since ascending the throne, he's imposed heavy taxes on alcohol sales. Now he wants to eradicate alcohol from his realm entirely."

Smiling, he continued, "Of course, unlike those pampered fools raised in palaces who think they are the center of the universe, you and I both know that alcohol can't be banned. He'll only cause its price to skyrocket tenfold or more, and he won't collect any taxes."

Tony, who had some sense, quickly caught on. "You want to smuggle alcohol into the Navia Kingdom?"

Tony considered it a potentially lucrative business, though not without challenges. "That won't be easy."

"Of course, if it were easy, I'd do it myself. Why would I need you?" William chuckled, patting Tony's shoulder and looking him in the eye. "Since you've agreed to cooperate, do you have any suggestions for our upcoming business venture?"

Tony glanced at William's eyes, devoid of humor, then at his two battered henchmen. Gritting his teeth, he seemed to make a decision. "I think we should bring someone else in."

Chapter 24

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 24: Like Cooking a Small Fish

"Who?" William asked.

"The son of the president of the Flash Gold Guild," Tony replied, trembling as he flicked the ash from his cigarette. "Sherlock."

William smiled and asked, "He's the one who handles your smuggled goods?"

Tony's heart skipped a beat. He glanced at William, who was smiling pleasantly, and replied with a strained voice, "I usually only do small deals with him, but if we want to transport alcohol into the Navia Kingdom, we'll need a 'bridge.'"

Tony's gaze darted quickly over William and his companions. "Even if you guys are great fighters and can handle threats at sea, it won't matter without proper channels. Sherlock usually doesn't get involved in the Flash Gold Guild's business. His father doesn't approve of his way of doing things, so he's been looking to start something on his own. While he can't directly interfere with the guild's operations, his status still allows him to open many doors—after all, his father wouldn't completely cut ties with him. So, establishing and maintaining the sales network is something he can handle."

As Tony spoke, William nodded along. He had already suspected that Tony had a partner who helped him fence stolen goods; he was just waiting for Tony to reveal it.

William had no significant connections or local network here. While Tony had influence locally, it didn't extend beyond the area, let alone into another country. The Navia Kingdom, though not far, was still an independent nation.

William's reason for recruiting Tony was to establish a foothold for producing and brewing alcohol locally in Momiji Village, with Tony, the local boss, smoothing out the production process. However, the crucial sales aspect was beyond the capabilities of either of them.

As Marx once described, the perilous leap from commodities to currency required a key player to make it happen.

William had been testing Tony. If Tony, under his pressure and persuasion, revealed this hidden relationship, it would mean William's tactics had succeeded.

Conversely, if Tony had chosen to keep quiet and tried to bluff his way through, it would likely mean he was planning to seek revenge later with this Sherlock's help.

William always liked to have a backup plan. If Tony had really thought he could deceive him and refused to mention Sherlock, then William would have had no choice but to follow Aramis's suggestion.

William instructed Edmond to escort Tony and his men back to Momiji Village. Since Edmond was a local there, Tony wouldn't dare seek revenge.

After they left, William turned to Gin and said, "The day after tomorrow, take Vallon out to sea and retrieve Danton's treasure. You might not be able to bring everything back, so prioritize items that are easy to sell—cash is best."

Vallon responded with a simple "Mm," while Gin gave a steady nod.

Aramis, upon hearing about going out to sea, immediately lit up with excitement. Having been cooped up in Shimotsuki Village for a year, he was itching for action. "I want to go too!"

"You stay here!" William glared at him.

Gin was mature, reliable, and loyal, while Vallon was honest and straightforward. William didn't doubt Aramis's loyalty, but his impulsive and talkative nature made him prone to trouble. Life at sea was unpredictable, filled with all sorts of strange people and events. Even if you avoided causing trouble, trouble might find you. To ensure stability and avoid unnecessary incidents, William decided not to send Aramis.

As they walked back to their residence, Gin asked in a low voice, "How much should we take?"

"Take as much as you can carry," William replied, rubbing his temples with some irritation. In his previous life, he had been a heavy smoker. While his current body had no physical addiction, he still felt a psychological craving. Seeing Tony smoke earlier had made him itch for a cigarette, but since he was still training, he resisted the urge. After all, no one understood better than a long-time smoker how harmful it was to one's health.

"Do we really need that much money?" Aramis asked.

"In the future, I plan to build a distillery in Momiji Village. I need to control production and not rely entirely on others," William explained slowly. "And that Sherlock, the son of the guild president, isn't like Tony, a small-time local thug. His base of operations is outside our sphere of influence. We can't intimidate him, so if we want to negotiate a partnership, we'll need real money to invest."

"Such a hassle." Vallon rarely complained, but this time he did.

"Hassle or not, it has to be done. You can't build a skyscraper without a foundation. If you don't go through the tedious steps of washing and chopping vegetables, do you think you can just throw everything into the pot and end up with a delicious dish? Or do you think it will magically turn into a perfect meal?" William asked, casting a sidelong glance at Aramis.

Aramis scratched his cheek, looking embarrassed. "I only skipped washing and chopping the vegetables that one time. Do you have to keep bringing it up?"

"You idiot! You threw an entire head of cabbage into the pot and nearly broke it!" William snapped, smacking Aramis on the back of the head.

Aramis shrank his neck and laughed sheepishly. In truth, he had done it on purpose. Since then, no one had dared let him cook again.

Returning to the previous topic, William continued, "The trade network we're building for smuggling alcohol will serve as a valuable asset when we eventually form our pirate crew. It can help us fence stolen goods and secure supplies for what we lack. Meanwhile, our pirate crew, once it grows stronger, can provide protection for the trade network. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

What William didn't mention was that the trade network would also serve as his foothold on land. While the sea was vast, the importance of the land was no less significant for both pirates and the Marines. Ships needed to dock for supplies, and they couldn't survive without the resources provided by the land.

For pirates, who were inherently at a disadvantage against the World Government and the Marines, they needed to adopt a guerrilla warfare mindset. To avoid being cornered and annihilated, and to even have a chance at growing stronger, they needed a broad base of support.

People were the source of recruits, intelligence, and supplies, all essential for sustained operations.

Some pirate crews, like the Ottoman Pirates, would even leave supplies wrapped in pirate flags on docks for the civilians they protected. William, of course, understood the value of such tactics.

These points, however, were somewhat disheartening and might dampen morale, so William chose not to share them with Gin and the others.

After sending Manny and Angie to the doctor, Tony dismissed his subordinates, who kept pestering him about what had happened.

He returned to his desk, opened a small, delicate box from a drawer, and revealed a Transponder Snail nibbling on a lettuce leaf inside.

Cruelly snatching the lettuce away from the snail, Tony hesitated for a moment before dialing a number.

The snail chirped a few times before the call was finally answered. A young man's voice came through the snail's mouth: "Hello?"

"Sherlock?"

"Tony? What's up?"

"I have a friend..." Tony's face twitched as he said this. "He has a big business deal and wants to talk to you."

Chapter 25

《One Piece：The True Codex》 Chapter 25: A Silver Tongue

When Sherlock was very young, he thought his father was the most remarkable man in the world.

His father, Sassarian, had formed alliances across the region, established a guild, and worked with local merchants to promote their products to the distant royal capital. He was revered by the local business community.

But by the time Sherlock reached adolescence, perhaps due to the natural instinct of a young male to seek more social resources, or perhaps simply because he had started to see more of the world and realized that the once-infallible man he admired as a child also had moments of groveling and compromise, he began to feel anger and shame. This sparked his rebellious phase—a textbook case of what William might have called "chūnibyō" in his previous life. Given that Sherlock was already eighteen, it could barely be called "late-stage chūnibyō."

It was only when Sherlock finally stepped out from under his father's wing and plunged headfirst into the thorny jungle of society—bleeding and battered—that he might begin to regain his childhood admiration for his father. Unfortunately, his privileged upbringing had delayed that day, and for now, his mind was still filled with thoughts of defying his father.

His father, Sassarian, was cautious and conservative, embodying the merchant's ethos of prudence and harmony in business. Sherlock, however, was brimming with bold ideas. He believed that the pursuit of profit was a merchant's duty and nature, subscribing to a philosophy akin to the saying from William's past life: "The bolder the man, the greater the yield."

After speaking with Tony on the Transponder Snail and learning some information about William and his proposal, Sherlock became intrigued. That very night, he pulled out all the newspapers related to the Navia Kingdom and its prohibition order, staying up until dawn reading them. The next morning, sporting dark circles under his eyes, he called Tony back and agreed to arrange a meeting with William.

Sherlock kept this smuggling deal entirely to himself. For five days, he told no one about it until he finally asked his family to arrange a ship to take him to Momiji Village.

Though he was the son of the guild president, Sherlock was not overly pampered. He took pride in his identity as a merchant, valued efficiency, and disliked unnecessary pomp. He brought only a male secretary to carry his luggage and requested a small, inconspicuous ship that happened to be passing through the area.

From these arrangements, it was clear that Sherlock's decisions were not necessarily wrong. However, as he boarded the ship and entered the cabin, he couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

Inside the cabin, a group of rough, menacing men with weathered faces stared at him.

Bang!

Sherlock froze in place. His secretary, who had been following closely behind him, had just stepped into the cabin when one of the men pulled out a pistol and shot him in the forehead.

A gaping hole appeared between the secretary's eyebrows, and he collapsed to the floor with a look of utter disbelief. Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, filling the narrow space with a nauseating stench.

Sherlock had already felt something was off when he boarded the ship. Aside from the burly sailors on deck, there were surprisingly few people. Normally, the guild's overseers would be on deck shouting orders to speed up the work.

Now he understood. These "sailors" were not law-abiding civilians working at the docks—they were pirates. As for the ship's original operators or the overseers sent by the guild, they were either dead like his unfortunate secretary, locked up by the pirates, or—worst-case scenario—collaborators with the pirates.

Sherlock's mind raced as he felt the ship lurch beneath him. His heart sank.

The ship had left the dock.

"Are the others on board still alive?" Sherlock asked. He knew he had to speak up if he didn't want to end up like his secretary. In the brief moment since the secretary's death, Sherlock had quickly deduced that the pirates had a reason for not killing him outright.

The cabin was dimly lit, but Sherlock could make out the faces of three men, either standing or sitting, across from him.

Two of them had wild, afro-like hairstyles—one with a disproportionately large mouth and the other with a pockmarked face. The man in the middle, who seemed to be the leader, had dark skin and wore dreadlocks.

The dreadlocked leader chuckled at Sherlock's question. "You're still worried about others at a time like this?"

"Since you gentlemen haven't killed me yet, I believe you must have your reasons. That means my life isn't in immediate danger," Sherlock said with a forced smile. "The people on this ship are members of my family's guild. As the son of the guild president, it's my duty to inquire about their safety."

The pockmarked man pulled out a rope, walked behind Sherlock, and tied his hands behind his back. He sneered, "So you're a rich kid. Too bad for you—you've got it all wrong. Once we're far enough from shore, you're as good as dead. The others on board will definitely outlive you."

"So, I won't be killed right away?" Sherlock's face turned pale, but he tried to remain calm. "And the others are still alive?"

"If that's the case, gentlemen, may I propose a deal? Could I pay you to ransom the members of my guild?"

The pirates exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter. They seemed to find it utterly ridiculous that a prisoner was trying to negotiate a ransom with them.

"Fifty thousand Beli for each officer, twenty thousand for the others, and a hundred thousand for the captain!"

The laughter stopped. Though the amounts Sherlock offered might not seem like much individually, when multiplied by the number of hostages, it added up to a substantial fortune.

More importantly, it was an unexpected windfall—so unexpected that it seemed almost too good to be true.

For Sherlock, the most important takeaway was the pirates' reaction. From their expressions, he could confirm that the original crew of the ship was not in cahoots with the pirates.

Lowering his gaze slightly, Sherlock asked, "Forgive me for being presumptuous, but may I ask why you want to kill me? I don't recall ever crossing paths with you gentlemen, and I pride myself on befriending people of character. If we had met before, I would surely remember and would never have offended you."

The dreadlocked leader hesitated, but Sherlock's flattery seemed to hit the mark. Finally, he replied, "Someone hired us to kill you."

"And to make it look like a pirate attack," one of the other pirates added nonchalantly. They seemed entirely unconcerned about how much Sherlock, a dead man walking, might learn. Instead, they appeared to relish the cat-and-mouse game.

"I see," Sherlock nodded. "May I ask one last question before I die? How much did your employer pay you?"

The pirates exchanged glances before the dreadlocked leader answered, "Ten million Beli."

Sherlock couldn't help but let out a derisive laugh, as if he couldn't hold it back. The pirate behind him, who had just finished tying his hands, shoved him roughly on the shoulder.

Untrained in self-defense and physically frail, Sherlock stumbled forward, nearly falling to his knees.

Though anger simmered in his heart, he kept his composure, looking up with an apologetic expression. "My apologies. I just found the price amusing—not only does it insult me, but it also insults you gentlemen."

"What do you mean?"

"The son of the Flash Gold Guild's president, worth only ten million Beli? It's laughable. And considering your employer wants to stage this as a pirate attack, you must kill more than just me, which will require extra effort." Sherlock's voice grew steadier as he spoke.

"Flash Gold Guild?" The dreadlocked leader looked puzzled, clearly unfamiliar with the name. However, the large-mouthed man beside him reacted, whispering an explanation into his ear. The leader's expression shifted to one of realization. "So that's why."

"You've heard of our guild?" Sherlock smiled at the large-mouthed man. "It seems your employer is a miser. He must have withheld my identity to avoid you raising your price."

Before they could respond, Sherlock appeared to have a sudden idea. "How about this? I'll pay you three times the amount—thirty million Beli. You won't have to kill anyone or do anything else. Just let me go, and the thirty million, along with the ransom for my guild members, will be yours!"

Chapter 26

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 26: The Courage of a Merchant

For the clever, weapons are never limited to fists or blades. A sharp tongue and a quick mind can be just as critical in moments of peril.

Sherlock successfully persuaded the pirates who had hijacked his ship. He owed his thanks to their employer, who, perhaps out of fear of attracting too much attention, had only dared to hire a group of third-rate, uneducated pirates. This gave Sherlock the opportunity to use his silver tongue to sway them.

What began as a plan for robbery and murder quickly shifted to kidnapping and ransom. Though this was a new line of business for the pirates and they were somewhat inexperienced, they exhibited a certain professional pride. At the very least, their attitude toward their captive, Sherlock, became noticeably less hostile.

Still, they maintained basic precautions. It was only after the ship had been sailing for some time that the pirate leader, the dreadlocked man, handed Sherlock a Transponder Snail, instructing him to contact his relatives to arrange the ransom.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment as he picked up the snail. Under the watchful eyes of several pirates, he finally dialed Tony's number.

The snail rang a few times before the call was answered. Tony's voice, sounding lively and full of energy, came through: "Hello! Who's this?"

"Tony, it's Sherlock," he said.

Tony sounded surprised. "Sherlock? What a coincidence, I was just—"

Sherlock noticed the pirates around him reacting suspiciously, so he quickly interrupted Tony. "We'll talk about that later. For now, listen carefully: I've been kidnapped by pirates. I need you to prepare 40 million Beli for my ransom."

The Transponder Snail perfectly mimicked Tony's shocked and flustered response. Sherlock took this opportunity to smile at the pirates and explain, "I know you're wondering why I didn't call my father. As the president of the Flash Gold Guild, my father's every move is closely watched. If I were to call him, it might attract unwanted attention. I'm a businessman. Since I've promised to pay the ransom, I won't go back on my word. You gentlemen make your living on the seas through your own skills, and I have no intention of risking my life unnecessarily. That's why I'm asking my friend to handle the ransom—it'll give you peace of mind and avoid complications."

"I'm a man who values friendships. Consider the extra 40 million Beli as a token of goodwill for meeting you fine gentlemen."

The ship Sherlock was on was a small merchant vessel with no more than twenty crew members. At most, only five or six of them held significant positions. Clearly, the ransom wouldn't actually require 40 million Beli.

The pirates exchanged glances and seemed to believe Sherlock's explanation. Their attitude toward him improved noticeably.

Sherlock continued speaking into the Transponder Snail, "Tony, remember: 40 million Beli. Don't inform the Marines or anyone else. You can have that person you mentioned the other day deliver the payment. I'll call you again in an hour. If that person lacks the courage to come—"

Before he could finish, the Transponder Snail was taken by someone on Tony's end. A calm and steady voice interrupted him: "I am the 'person' Tony mentioned the other day—William, Mr. Sherlock."

Sherlock froze for a moment, then heard William say, "I'll bring the money to you personally."

The pirate leader snatched the Transponder Snail from Sherlock and growled, "Don't try anything funny. We're the Shark Pirates. If you make any sudden moves, you'll never see your friend again!"

William chuckled lightly. "When the time comes, I'll come alone, on a single ship, unarmed except for the money. Surely that won't scare you, will it?"

The pirate leader snorted and tossed the Transponder Snail back to Sherlock.

Sherlock was a bold man. Otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to use his wit to persuade cold-blooded pirates to change their plan from murder-for-hire to a ransom scheme.

He addressed William directly through the Transponder Snail: "Consider this 40 million Beli a debt I owe you. But I'm paying such a hefty price to secure our collaboration, so I want a controlling stake in the deal."

William was silent for a moment before laughing heartily. "This whole situation started because of me, so of course, I'll cover the cost. As for the collaboration, let's keep that separate and discuss it later."

Sherlock was about to say more, but the pirate leader, growing impatient, snatched the Transponder Snail and ended the call. The ship wasn't too far from shore yet, so the meeting time and location could be decided later. For now, the leader needed to consult with the other officers in the pirate crew.

Meanwhile, in a small office on the second floor of a tavern in Momiji Village, William handed the Transponder Snail back to Tony.

Gin and Edmond were also in the room.

William had originally brought them to discuss the formalities of setting up a workshop in Momiji Village and to gather information about Sherlock. He hadn't expected to stumble upon this situation.

Tony paced back and forth, his brows furrowed tightly. "I can only scrape together a few million Beli in cash—no more than that. How much do you have?"

Tony was just a small-time gang leader, and Momiji Village wasn't particularly prosperous—certainly not compared to Shimotsuki Village. Plus, he had a group of idle thugs depending on him for their livelihood, so his income was limited. This was one of the reasons he had been eager to accept William's proposal.

"Seventeen million Beli," William replied. "And even less in cash."

Tony stopped in his tracks, visibly uneasy. "Even if we pool everything together, that's only about 20 million Beli—half of what we need!"

"Why would Sherlock ask us to help with the ransom? Why not just get the money from his father?" Tony muttered to himself in frustration.

"His father is the president of a guild—a position held by someone highly respected in the community. Every move he makes is under scrutiny. If Sherlock were to call him for ransom money, it would be impossible to keep it under wraps. Word would spread, and it might even alert the Marines or other authorities," William explained matter-of-factly. "Besides, based on how you've described him, this son of the Flash Gold Guild president is probably reluctant to trouble his father unless absolutely necessary."

William took a cigarette from the pack on the desk, inhaled its scent nostalgically, and placed it in his mouth. However, he didn't light it. Instead, he continued speaking casually, "But the most important reason is that he deliberately mentioned me during the call. I suspect he's using this as an opportunity to gauge how much capital I have for our potential collaboration. If I fail to meet his expectations, he might then turn to his father."

William chuckled as he finished his analysis. He found Sherlock to be quite an interesting character. In his previous life, William had considered himself a bold person, both in everyday life and in business. But if he imagined himself in Sherlock's shoes—kidnapped by a group of ruthless Somali pirates—he knew his first priority would be ensuring his own safety. He wouldn't dare think about business dealings, let alone play mind games over the phone.

Chapter 27

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 27: A Hymn to Death

William wasn't sure whether to admire Sherlock's audacity or shake his head at his recklessness. Choosing money over his own life seemed outrageous, but after spending a considerable amount of time in this world, William had come to understand its peculiarities. Through fragmented memories from this body's original owner, combined with his own observations and reflections, he had pieced together an understanding of this world's ethos and its origins.

Compared to the environment of his previous life, there was no doubt that this world was utterly rotten. It could only compete in wretchedness with the most unstable regions of Earth, such as parts of Africa.

First, there was the World Government, a bloated, inefficient, and corruption-ridden institution. The privileges of its founders, the Celestial Dragons, and their culture of enslaving others reeked of a semi-colonial system.

Second, there was one of the World Government's most prominent forces—the Marines.

Due to the rampant piracy and the isolation caused by the Calm Belt, communication and coordination across regions were poor. Following the onset of the Great Pirate Era, the Marines shifted their focus to the Grand Line, granting local base commanders significant autonomy, including the authority to conscript soldiers. The lack of scientific management, infrequent personnel rotations, and other systemic issues turned many base commanders into warlord-like figures who abused their power in their territories.

Third, most nations were still governed by feudal monarchies. The gap between the nobility and the commoners was vast, and the class system was deeply entrenched. Nobles ruled by divine right, while the lower classes had few opportunities for upward mobility. Corruption and bureaucracy were even worse than within the World Government.

Finally, there were the pirates, who swarmed like locusts, leaving destruction in their wake.

This deformed world, where individuals possessed extraordinary strength, relied on morality as one of the few constraints on those in power. But how effective could morality be, especially in a world as chaotic as this?

For many, whether it was pirates, Marines, the World Government, unrestrained powerful individuals, or noble rulers, any of them could easily destroy their peaceful lives. Death, wielding its scythe, lurked everywhere.

In such an environment, most people couldn't avoid death and had to become accustomed to it. This inevitably gave rise to a culture that trivialized death and even romanticized it, breeding countless "eccentric geniuses" who sought to realize their value in life before their inevitable demise.

They knew that since death was unavoidable, they might as well strive to accomplish something extraordinary, something that would be remembered by the world.

William sighed deeply. This was indeed a rotten era, but it was also an era of heroes and legends.

Tony's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"But we can't possibly gather enough ransom money!" Tony exclaimed. "You don't have enough either. Sherlock overestimates you. You're not the son of a guild president like him. Forty million Beli—how many people can casually pull out that much cash without batting an eye?"

Gin, who was also in the room, sneered at Tony's defeatist attitude. "Capital doesn't only mean money, you know."

William laughed heartily and clapped his hands. "That's why you're my brother, Gin!"

"What do you mean?" Tony asked, confused.

William countered with a question of his own. "What do you know about the Shark Pirates?"

Tony curled his lip dismissively. "In the East Blue, the only pirate groups I know are the Red-Beard Pirates and the Chef Pirates. I've never even heard of some third-rate group like the Shark Pirates."

William smirked. "If they're an unknown pirate crew, that makes things easier."

Tony's expression changed as he began to grasp William's meaning.

"That Sherlock fellow understands it too. In this world, capital has never been limited to just money," William said, tapping the hilt of the sword at his waist. "Otherwise, he wouldn't have insisted on me delivering the ransom. That man truly doesn't value his own life."

A few nautical miles from Momiji Village, a small twin-masted merchant ship lay anchored. In the crow's nest, a pirate with a black cloth wrapped around his head peered toward the village through a spyglass. Below him, several pirates on the deck were also keeping watch in the direction of the village.

After a while, the pirate in the crow's nest spotted a small boat slowly approaching through his spyglass.

Under the wary gazes of the pirates, William's small boat finally neared the merchant ship. He furled the single sail on his boat, tapped the side of the boat twice with his right foot, producing two crisp knocks, and then leapt onto the merchant ship's deck with two large leather cases in hand. His movements were as swift and graceful as a hawk.

The pirates, all armed, formed a semi-circle around William.

From the fact that William had dared to enter their lair alone, combined with the agility he had just displayed, it was clear he was no ordinary man. The pirates, who were new to the kidnapping business, were understandably cautious about their first venture.

William was indeed unarmed. His gray shirt and black trousers left no room for concealed weapons.

Raising the leather cases in his hands, William addressed the tense pirates. "I've only brought money. There's no need to be so nervous, is there?"

He opened one of the cases, revealing neatly bundled stacks of Beli. The sight of twenty million in cash was indeed impactful, especially for these low-level pirates who lived hand-to-mouth, never knowing if they would survive another day.

One of the pirates, his face full of greed, reached out to grab the case from William. But William sidestepped him effortlessly.

"Don't you know the rules? Where's Sherlock? I need to confirm his safety first," William said, frowning as he snapped the case shut.

The pirates, momentarily blinded by the sight of the money, let their professional ethics fly out the window. At William's words, their eyes turned hostile.

The pirate who had reached for the case flared his nostrils and stepped forward with his blade raised, only to be stopped by another pirate—a pockmarked man with an afro.

This man had been one of the pirates who had interacted directly with Sherlock earlier. Sherlock's silver tongue had not only persuaded them to change their plans but also left a favorable impression on some of them. As a result, he didn't mind allowing William to see Sherlock first.

The pirates had considered double-crossing William—taking the ransom, killing Sherlock and the other hostages, and collecting their employer's bounty as well.

However, Sherlock had made it clear in his earlier negotiations that killing him, the son of a local guild president, along with innocent crew members to stage a pirate attack, would provoke severe retaliation. His father wouldn't rest until justice was served, and the increased bounty on their heads would make their lives much harder.

Unlike outliers like Edmond, most low-level pirates didn't want their bounties to rise too high. Without superior strength or influence, a high bounty would only bring relentless pursuit from the Marines.

By comparison, kidnapping caused less of a stir. And besides, they reasoned, hadn't they treated Sherlock relatively well so far?

Chapter 28

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 28: Scattered

The pockmarked pirate leader led William toward the captain's cabin. Along the way, four burly pirates flanked him with drawn swords, ensuring he wouldn't try anything reckless.

William followed obediently, showing no resistance even when one of the pirates gave him a shove as he entered the cabin. He merely brushed it off without a word.

Inside the captain's cabin, there were only two people. One was a burly man with a face full of scars and dreadlocks—clearly a pirate. William immediately dismissed him from his focus and turned his attention to the other individual, whose appearance matched Tony's description of Sherlock.

This was the first time William and Sherlock had met. They appeared to be of similar age, but in contrast to William, who had grown rugged and composed from his pirate life and years of sword training, Sherlock's complexion was pale, and his frame slightly frail.

Sherlock's short black hair was disheveled, though it was unclear whether that was his natural state or the result of his captivity. His high-quality suit, which was clearly made from expensive fabric, was carelessly unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up, leaving it wrinkled and unkempt.

As William scrutinized Sherlock, the latter was also sizing him up. Sherlock's nervous expression brought a faint smile to William's lips.

The pirate leader, who had been seated behind the captain's desk, stood up and wasted no time. "Where's the money?" he demanded bluntly.

William smirked and raised the leather cases in his hands.

"You've already seen the man," said the pockmarked pirate who had led William there. He glanced at the unharmed Sherlock before glaring at William. Then, he reached out to snatch the cases from William.

But William was quicker. With a swift motion, he tossed both cases onto the captain's desk.

Thud! Thud!

The two heavy cases, filled to the brim, landed on the desk with a dull thud, one stacked atop the other. The top case, the one William had previously opened to reveal the cash, was placed directly in front of the pirate leader.

The leader, visibly excited, ran a hand through his dreadlocks before eagerly opening the top case.

Inside, bundles of Beli, neatly stacked and tightly packed, filled the case to the brim. To the pirate leader, it seemed as if golden light was reflecting off the money. He knew it was just an illusion, but it didn't stop him from whistling in delight. He grabbed a few bundles to inspect them before pushing the top case aside to open the second one.

It was as if the money had cast a spell on everyone in the room. The pirates' eyes were glued to the bundles of cash.

As the pirate leader placed his hands on the second case, William quietly placed his hands on the wrist of the pirate who had shoved him earlier—the one still holding a sword.

The pirate leader's eyes gleamed as he opened the second case. However, what greeted him was not the same sight as before. This case, too, was packed to the brim, but instead of money, it was filled with stacks of freshly printed newspapers, their ink still faintly fragrant.

For a moment, the pirate leader froze, dumbfounded. Then, his face contorted with rage. Realizing he had been tricked, he slammed the open case shut with a loud bang and roared, "Kill him!"

But William had already made his move. While the pirates were distracted by the money, he had seized the wrist of the pirate beside him. In one fluid motion, he executed a technique known as "Disarming Without a Blade."

Bang! The sound of the case being slammed shut echoed through the room.

Thud! The sound of the pirate hitting the floor followed immediately after.

The pirate lay sprawled on the ground, dazed and disoriented. Meanwhile, the curved sword he had been holding was now in William's hand, as if by magic.

William glanced down at the fallen pirate with disdain. "You can't even hold onto your weapon. And you call yourself a pirate?"

At that moment, the pirate leader's furious roar filled the room. The three remaining pirates surrounding William snapped out of their daze and charged at him with their swords raised.

But William, with his Lightning Reflexes, was far faster. Combined with the techniques he had painstakingly learned at Koushirou's Isshin Dojo, the pirates' movements seemed agonizingly slow in his eyes. Their attacks were riddled with flaws, their techniques crude and inefficient. They relied solely on brute strength, barely utilizing even a fraction of their potential power.

To William, facing these three pirates was like a modern army equipped with tanks and artillery going up against untrained militia wielding outdated rifles. The outcome was predetermined.

With a slight shift in his stance, William sidestepped their attacks. His blade moved with precision, blocking all three swords in a single upward motion. His timing was impeccable, and his movements flowed seamlessly, a testament to his rigorous training and real-world combat experience.

In a world where individuals could possess extraordinary strength, the knowledge imparted by Koushirou's Isshin-ryu was akin to advanced military technology in William's previous life. Against these pirates, William's mastery of technique was overwhelming.

He deflected their strikes with minimal effort, using their own momentum against them. In a series of fluid movements, he executed precise attacks: a thrust, a flick, and a slash. Bloodlines appeared on the pirates' bodies almost simultaneously—one on the chest, one on the chin, and one on the throat.

Even Koushirou himself would have applauded William's performance—not because his strength had reached an astonishing level, but because of the flawless execution of his actions. There was no wasted movement, no unnecessary exertion. His technique was a testament to his dedication and discipline.

William's hands were steady, and so was his heart.

With a crouch and a burst of speed, William launched himself toward the pirate leader. As he moved, the three pirates collapsed to the floor behind him, their bodies hitting the ground with a dull thud.

The pockmarked pirate who had escorted William finally fumbled to draw his weapon, but William barely spared him a glance. As he passed by, his blade flicked out in a feint, forcing the pirate to attempt a block. In the same instant, William shifted his angle and thrust the blade into a vital point.

The pockmarked pirate didn't even have the strength to delay William for a second.

The pirate leader, now pale with fear, watched in disbelief as four of his subordinates were taken down in the blink of an eye. It felt like a nightmare—a nightmare where the tables had turned entirely against him.

As William charged toward him, the pirate leader panicked. He grabbed the case filled with newspapers and hurled it at William, retreating two steps as he pulled a flintlock pistol from his coat.

With a flash of steel, William sliced through the flying case, cutting it cleanly in half. The newspapers inside scattered into the air, fluttering around him like falling leaves.

The pirate leader took aim, his pistol leveled at William's forehead.

Chapter 29

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 29: Negotiation

The special skill Lightning Reflexes primarily provides William with potential. His reaction speed is fast, but not yet faster than a bullet. Even if his reflexes were honed to surpass a bullet, achieving the physical speed comparable to a bullet's trajectory would still require extensive training.

Yet, who says you need to be faster than a bullet to dodge one?

From the moment the pirate leader's finger pulled the trigger, to the spring activating the flint, and the flint striking the firing pan to ignite the gunpowder—all these brief moments felt prolonged to William, allowing him ample time to evade.

Time seemed to pause; the pirate leader appeared to move in slow motion as he pulled the trigger, while William's pupils subtly shifted as he observed the direction the gun barrel was aimed, slightly tilting his head to avoid it.

Time resumed its normal pace.

Bang! Crack!

The first sound was the explosive crack of the bullet leaving the barrel, followed by the sharp sound of the bullet missing its target, whizzing past William's ear and hitting the wooden wall.

William didn't outrun the bullet, but Sherlock, the pirate leader, and the pirate minions couldn't discern this. To them, it seemed William's reflexes were faster than a bullet!

Sherlock's mouth hung open in astonishment, and the pirate leader's eyes widened in fear as William charged toward him.

William's footsteps thudded against the wooden floor, resonating with immense power.

His curved blade effortlessly pierced the pirate leader's fragile skin and muscle, slicing through his vital point in the left chest and emerging from the other side.

William continued his stride, pushing the screaming pirate leader forward until he exerted force and pinned the leader against the wall, his feet dangling off the ground!

"Wait, don't kill him!" Sherlock finally called out weakly.

William released the hilt of the sword and turned his gaze from the now lifeless pirate leader to Sherlock, offering a relaxed smile. Despite the bloodstains on his face and the grim setting of the room, he appeared unfazed. "You spoke too late."

Sherlock managed a bitter smile. "It was you who acted too quickly."

He extended his hand. "I'm Sherlock."

"William, nice to meet you." William extended his hand as well, shaking Sherlock's lightly.

"Impressive." Sherlock glanced around at the scattered corpses in the room and spoke slowly.

William's actions were swift and decisive, leaving the pirates no chance to use Sherlock as a hostage. Instead, they accompanied each other to the afterlife, continuing their pirate journey.

William approached the corpse of the pockmarked pirate officer while speaking, "I suppose this is what you wanted, right? Money alone is just a piece of meat everyone can take a bite out of on this sea. You called me here to see if I'm as formidable as Tony said, to see if I can protect future business ventures."

"So, do you agree to cooperate with me now?" William asked as he bent down to retrieve a flintlock pistol from the pirate officer's waist—a weapon the officer hadn't had time to use.

While inspecting the pistol for ammunition, a foul odor suddenly reached his nose. He glanced around and realized it was coming from the pirate minion he had disarmed earlier.

The man was trying to play dead. Though initially dazed by William's throw, he had avoided the grim fate of death. Unfortunately, upon seeing William handling the pistol, he mistook it as being discovered. Terrified by William's deadly swordsmanship and seemingly bullet-dodging reflexes, he trembled uncontrollably, wetting his pants in fear.

William nudged him with his foot and said calmly, "If you don't want to die, go block the door."

Meanwhile, Sherlock smirked. "I think, given that you dared to come unarmed as you said over the phone, and now we're both still alive, your question answers itself."

The gunshot from the captain's cabin had alerted the other pirates outside. Footsteps echoed from the deck and corridors, growing closer. William, however, remained unconcerned. As the terrified pirate minion obediently crawled up to block the door, William approached the room's only small window.

Under Sherlock's and the pirate minion's puzzled gazes, William smashed the window and casually fired the pistol outside.

The gunshot echoed far across the open sea. William tossed the now empty flintlock onto the desk and smiled at Sherlock. "Alright, the situation will soon be resolved. To avoid wasting time, since we've reached a cooperation agreement, let's discuss the upcoming business—especially the crucial point of who will lead."

"Here?" Sherlock pulled out a perfumed handkerchief to cover his nose, frowning in disgust.

"Why not?" William chuckled indifferently, intent on negotiating in this blood-soaked room.

Business negotiations are inherently a battlefield where every tactic is employed. In business, power is not solely represented by money; other forces are needed for protection.

In a peaceful society, this power often refers to government and official support, ensuring investments aren't lost due to unforeseen circumstances. However, in this chaotic world, it includes tangible military strength to deter and resist pirate raids. Without armed protection, doing business on the sea can easily result in financial ruin.

By negotiating here, William was akin to choosing an office adorned with photos of government leaders, with the dead body hanging on the wall serving as a testament to his power.

Since the gunshot, the commotion outside had intensified, with shouts and cries faintly drifting in through the shattered window.

"Alright," Sherlock, though bold in business matters, was not like William, who had once lived the pirate life. He reluctantly held the handkerchief to his mouth and nose, muffling the stench, and spoke in a subdued tone, "Your idea is good, but from product transport to local sales, I'll handle the most critical and dangerous aspects. Building a sales network from scratch isn't easy, so the leadership..."

Sherlock's words were interrupted by the nearby cries of battle, seemingly coming from just outside the door, causing him to glance at it uncertainly.

Chapter 30

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 30: Taking the Lead

The sounds of battle came quickly and faded just as fast. Soon after, a light knock echoed from outside the captain's cabin.

The pirate minion, who had been holding the door shut, looked at William with a pale face. William's smile widened as he first glanced at the uncertain Sherlock before waving a hand to dismiss the minion.

"Come in!" William called out loudly toward the door.

The door to the captain's cabin creaked open from the outside, revealing a bald head smeared with blood. After cautiously peeking into the room and confirming the situation was safe, the figure stepped inside.

It was none other than Vallon. His head was streaked with blood, though his body showed no signs of injury. Clearly, the blood wasn't his.

"Are all the enemies outside taken care of?" William asked.

Vallon casually wiped the blood off his head and replied, "Should be. Gin, Aramis, and Edmond are checking the cabins to make sure there are no stragglers."

William nodded and turned his attention to Sherlock, whose lips were tightly pressed together. "You said local sales are the most dangerous part? How dangerous? Getting extorted by some local officials? Let's be honest here—once we start working together, my crew will be the ones guarding the ship and protecting the goods. We'll be facing murderous pirates who wouldn't hesitate to kill. The truth is, the most dangerous part of the operation will fall on me and my people."

"Mr. Sherlock, my companions and I may not come from prestigious families like you, but our lives are not so cheap either." William leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk and staring down at Sherlock with an imposing gaze. He spoke slowly and firmly, emphasizing each word. "You're only putting up money, while we're putting up our lives. So naturally, I'll be the one calling the shots in this business!"

Straightening back up, William continued, "Besides, we're not just risking our lives; we're putting up money too. And unless you can get your father's help, you won't find anyone qualified to partner with you in the short term. If you're not satisfied, you're free not to work with me. But let me give you a piece of advice..."

His tone became inscrutable as he added, "Having ships and goods on this sea is nothing more than being a transport team for those with real power."

When William finished speaking, the room fell into silence. Vallon glanced nervously between William and the contemplative Sherlock, worried that Sherlock's youthful pride might be provoked by William's veiled threats.

However, after a moment of consideration, Sherlock blinked and said, "Outlaws? I like that."

Standing up, Sherlock declared, "The greater the risk, the greater the reward. I like bold people who dare to do what others wouldn't. That's how you make money beyond anyone's imagination. You want to take the lead? Fine! But I'm a businessman—I want profit. Can you deliver that?"

Two hands clasped together once more—one rough and calloused, the other slender and refined.

"No problem."

Gin and the others had been hiding in the small boat William had arrived on. When William lightly tapped the boat's side earlier, it was a signal to the crew hidden in the boat's secret compartment to be ready for his cue.

Once the other pirates were distracted by the commotion created by William and the captain's cabin, Gin and the others shed their disguises and stormed the merchant ship.

Since Sherlock lacked the ability to protect himself, William waited until Gin came to the captain's cabin to report that all the pirates on the ship had been dealt with before escorting Sherlock to the ship's deck.

After everyone had left the cabin, Aramis, who stayed behind, gave the surviving pirate minion a wicked grin. Moments later, the group heard a scream echo from the cabin.

Gin turned his head to look at Aramis, who had just walked out of the room and rejoined the group. Aramis shrugged nonchalantly. "I only broke both his arms."

Meanwhile, William was casually chatting with Sherlock. "So, from what you're saying, this kidnapping was premeditated? I guess I should've kept that leader alive. Do you need my help?"

"No need. I can more or less guess who's behind it without asking," Sherlock replied, shaking his head.

"Family drama?" William raised an eyebrow. "I don't really understand the scheming within big families like yours."

"My family isn't exactly a dynasty. We've only been wealthy for two generations. My great-grandfather was just an apprentice in a general store, and it wasn't until my grandfather's time that we had a shop of our own. Hardly a noble lineage," Sherlock said with a chuckle. "But every family has a few useless relatives. Short-sighted, incapable of building something of their own, they can only fixate on the family's wealth, afraid they'll starve in the future."

"When you make it big someday, you'll probably encounter similar relatives," Sherlock teased. "But judging by your personality, you'd probably crush them without a second thought. I'm not as decisive—I'm just a businessman, not as straightforward as you."

As a pampered young heir, Sherlock had just experienced a series of events that would terrify most people. Yet now, he seemed completely at ease. At least, William could no longer detect any trace of fear or unease on his face.

Just as Sherlock had gained newfound respect for William after witnessing his daring rescue, William also developed a sense of admiration for Sherlock's composure and resilience.

The group sailed back to Red Leaf Village, where Sherlock reassured the merchant ship's crew and let them leave. He then joined Tony at a welcome banquet held in his honor.

Though called a banquet, it was a modest gathering. Tony, his uncle Omar, Sherlock, William, Gin, Aramis, Vallon, and Edmond occupied the second floor of the tavern, drinking, eating, and discussing the logistics of their future alcohol smuggling operation.

Edmond still harbored doubts about the venture's success. "Selling alcohol that originally costs only a few hundred Beli for thousands, even tens of thousands—will people really buy it?"

Before William could respond, Tony's uncle Omar grinned and said, "Why wouldn't they?"

Raising his glass, Omar chuckled slyly. "After days of hard work, men will gladly pay for a drink like this."

Displeased by Omar's demeanor, Edmond chose not to respond and turned to Vallon for a quiet conversation.

Since learning to read, Vallon had developed a love for books—specifically adventure novels. Despite his seemingly simple nature, Vallon harbored a secret yearning for the grand tales of adventure he read about, which aligned perfectly with Edmond's aspirations.

The two young men quickly became close, much to the annoyance of Aramis. Previously, he enjoyed teasing Vallon, but now that Vallon and Edmond were inseparable, jealousy began to creep in.

William couldn't be bothered with the antics of these three. He turned to Sherlock and suggested, "If possible, I recommend registering a few pharmaceutical shops at the local sales points. We'll produce alcohol here in Red Leaf Village and transport it to those shops. Even if local officials investigate, we can claim it's medical alcohol."

Using pharmacies as a front for smuggling alcohol was an idea William borrowed from the Americans in his previous life. In the novel The Great Gatsby, the protagonist had employed a similar tactic.

"Won't the quality suffer?" Tony asked.

"The low-end market is the real moneymaker," Sherlock replied, wiping his mouth. "And this approach saves on shipping costs. As for higher-end products, instead of selling them directly, we could use them to bribe local officials. Prohibition is a wonderful thing—it even saves us a fortune on bribes."

Chapter 31

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 31: The Godfather

Sea Circle Calendar, Year 1508.

In the East Blue, inside a meeting room of a small newspaper office, a tall, skinny, balding middle-aged man stood before a blackboard, yelling at the top of his lungs, "News! News! I want exclusive news!"

"The sales have already plummeted below the red line. If this keeps up, the paper will go bankrupt, and I'll take you all out one by one before turning the gun on myself!" The middle-aged man's bloodshot eyes glared menacingly as his loosened tie dangled around his neck. He looked like a giant vulture, flailing his arms as if ready to pounce.

Perhaps it was the sheer terror of their editor-in-chief's appearance that made one of the editors raise his hand timidly, like a nervous student in class.

"Speak!" The vulture-like editor-in-chief gestured grandly with his hand.

"The sea train on the Grand Line has recently been completed..."

Before the timid editor could finish the word "completed," a piece of chalk flew straight at him, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Next!"

"...The president of Dock No. 4 in Water 7 caused fifty deaths at sea due to a lack of resources while purchasing timber. This led to the collapse of Dock No. 4."

The vulture-like editor-in-chief stared at the speaking editor with a complex expression before asking, "What's the name of our newspaper?"

"...The East Blue Daily."

The editor-in-chief's face turned livid as he grabbed another piece of chalk and hurled it at the editor. One piece wasn't enough; he threw several more while cursing, "You know it's the 'East Blue' Daily, yet you keep bringing me news from the Grand Line! I'll give you Grand Line! I'll give you Grand!"

"I want news from the East Blue! Exclusive news! I want headlines so gripping that readers can't look away after seeing the first word!" After sparing the editor whose head was now covered in chalk marks, the editor-in-chief shouted, "Or something like last year's Mariejois incident—something universal, something that resonates with readers!"

For journalists, last year's Mariejois attack was indeed a godsend, especially for regional tabloids like the East Blue Daily.

First, the public took great delight in the Celestial Dragons being humiliated. Second, they were extremely curious about the Fish-Men, who were rarely seen in the East Blue.

Despite its formal-sounding name, the East Blue Daily was just a shameless gossip rag. During that time, the paper's editors capitalized on the incident by fabricating wild stories about the Fish-Men to ride the wave of public interest. This temporarily boosted their sales.

Unfortunately, no such divine blessing had descended this year!

Faced with the editor-in-chief's wrath, the editors in the meeting room could only lower their already not-so-proud heads.

Gesetta smirked slightly, feeling a sense of smug satisfaction. He had come prepared for this meeting.

"I've received information that the prohibition law in the Navia Kingdom has essentially become meaningless over the past year!" Gesetta tapped his pencil on his notebook to draw everyone's attention, including the editor-in-chief's, before confidently continuing, "According to my sources, apart from the capital city of Kalmar, where enforcement is still relatively strict, the underground black market throughout the kingdom has never stopped supplying alcoholic beverages."

"Not enough..." The editor-in-chief, now calmer, rested his chin on his hand and muttered to himself before fixing his gaze on Gesetta. "Do you have any more concrete details?"

Gesetta hesitated slightly before replying, "It's said that there's a complete network for the production, transportation, and sale of alcohol, with people providing protection for the smuggling operations."

"That's obvious!" The editor-in-chief retorted bluntly. "Of course there's such a network. I want something explosive!"

"How about the shocking profits from smuggling?"

"Or local officials colluding with smugglers!"

Other editors immediately chimed in with suggestions.

The editor-in-chief paced back and forth. While these ideas were enough for them to fabricate a series of stories, he still felt somewhat unsatisfied.

"Can we extend the topic to the King of Navia Kingdom?" Gesetta, unwilling to let others steal the spotlight, interjected.

The editor-in-chief clapped his hands in delight. "Yes! We can serialize it, gradually packaging him as a hot topic—a clown!"

He glanced around the room. "What's the general public's impression of him?"

"An idiot!" one editor with a bulbous, red nose said bluntly.

"Harsh," added another.

"Isn't he supposed to be a devout believer?"

"His ideas are completely out of touch with reality."

The editor-in-chief listened while jotting down words on the blackboard: "Harsh, devout believer, out of touch with reality..."

After putting down the chalk, he scrutinized the words on the board, lost in thought. The other editors gathered around, offering their own opinions:

"What about portraying him as a pious believer?"

"Too positive; readers won't buy it."

"Then a fanatic?"

"Still not quite there."

The editor-in-chief snapped out of his reverie and declared loudly, "A religious lunatic! From now on, in our articles, in the eyes of our readers, he will be a religious lunatic! A king who issued a prohibition law because of his fanaticism!"

The room fell silent for a moment before erupting in applause. Only one timid voice finally spoke up, "But the strict support for prohibition seems to be limited to a few branches of Protestantism, none of which have gained traction in the Navia Kingdom."

The room fell silent again. After a long pause, someone sneered, "People like you will end up chewing on tree bark. Who cares about such details except boring folks?"

The editor-in-chief gave Gesetta an approving nod and said, "Your information is good. Do you have any other leads we can turn into news?"

The others in the room looked at Gesetta with envy, which only inflated his ego. After a brief hesitation, he said, "There's one more piece of information, but it's just hearsay without any solid evidence. Apparently, the network for smuggling within the kingdom was established by a group of youngsters, most of whom aren't even twenty years old..."

Gesetta hesitated because this information was even less credible than the rumors about Norton I. It was all hearsay without a shred of proof.

But the editor-in-chief's eyes lit up. To attract readers, novelty and intrigue were all that mattered.

The editor-in-chief grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote a bold headline on the blackboard:

"Religious Lunatic and the Teenage Godfather," circling the word "teenage" for emphasis, regardless of whether it was accurate.

In the Navia Kingdom's capital, Kalmar City, the morning court session had ended as usual.

Arcadio walked out of the royal palace, his demeanor shifting from humble to confident.

What did it matter if the king nominally ruled over vast lands and seas? Born and raised in the palace, the king's daily interactions were limited to the people and affairs within its walls.

Everything else had to be described to him by his ministers. In this respect, Arcadio, as the Minister of Finance, was already exceptionally cautious.

Norton I was not the "religious lunatic" that the East Blue Daily's editor-in-chief was about to fabricate. He was simply overly idealistic. He genuinely cared about his country and its people. However, his impractical nature led him to enact the laughable prohibition law as a misguided attempt to "care" for his citizens and nation—a policy pushed by none other than Arcadio.

Those who linger on the fringes of politics, hoping to enter its core but failing, often resort to selling policy information for profit. But true statesmen like Arcadio would instead craft and implement policies to serve their interests.

Out of caution, even after successfully implementing the prohibition law, Arcadio refrained from immediately involving himself in the premeditated smuggling operations. He waited an entire year, allowing alcohol to almost completely disappear from Kalmar, the kingdom's largest market.

This served two purposes: to cultivate demand among the city's residents and to thoroughly deceive King Norton I, making him believe that his prohibition law was highly effective. This would divert the king's attention elsewhere.

Now, it was time for Arcadio to reap the rewards.

Chapter 32

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 32: Kuina (Part 1)

At the dock of Red Leaf Village, a group of weathered dockworkers and sailors, rough-handed and rugged, sat or squatted around William, listening intently as he told a pirated version of Water Margin.

This scoundrel had altered the names and backgrounds of the characters, turning it into a story about a pirate captain and his 108 pirate subordinates dominating the seas. Of course, he couldn't resist adding his own flair, embellishing tales of how the "royal nobles" and the "World Government" oppressed the innocent, forcing good people to turn into outlaws.

The smuggling business had already entered a stable phase. The group produced alcohol and alcoholic beverages in Red Leaf Village, while Sherlock used his connections within the Flash Gold Guild to arrange for fleets to transport the goods. Sometimes, they even operated under the guild's banner. The goods were ultimately delivered to local apothecaries for sale. Leveraging money and the inflated prices of premium alcohol due to the prohibition law, they easily bribed local officials. These feudal bureaucrats were utterly susceptible to the temptations of alcohol and money, allowing the group to establish a trade network in the region with ease.

When the goods traveled across the sea, William, Aramis, Gin, Vallon, and Edmond took turns escorting the cargo ships, protecting them from pirates and even attacks from other competitors.

William never wasted time during these voyages. A natural socialite, he easily mingled with the diverse individuals on the ships and docks. From captains to dockworkers and sailors, he knew almost everyone. For those he deemed worth cultivating, he kept a mental ledger.

This process was how William built his network of connections.

The profits from the smuggling business had already allowed William to amass a considerable fortune. Combined with the connections he had built over the past year, he could assemble a crew and purchase a large ship to set sail at any moment—if it weren't for his intention to continue honing his swordsmanship at the dojo and further improving his own strength.

Speaking of the people on the ships and docks, it was the dockworkers and sailors who liked William the most. Despite his exceptional skills and high status, he carried no airs. Unlike the captains and merchant lords who would hide away in their private cabins as soon as they boarded, William often smoked and chatted with the laborers.

Having not come from a wealthy family in his previous life, William found it easy to bond with these working-class individuals.

Most of these dockworkers and ordinary sailors were uneducated, with many of them being illiterate. They loved gathering around William to hear his stories and learn about things they had never encountered before, broadening their horizons.

On one hand, it was out of curiosity. On the other, some of them were cunning enough to hope to leave an impression on their boss.

After finishing his adapted version of Lin Chong's story of fleeing by night, the audience erupted into a flurry of comments.

One sailor, visibly displeased, said, "That Marine named Wood is just too pathetic. He couldn't even protect his own wife. If he hadn't overheard that secret conversation by sheer luck, he'd probably still be dreaming about starting over!"

His companion sitting next to him retorted, "Easy for you to say. We're talking about a Celestial Dragon here. If one stood in front of you, you'd probably be so scared you'd drop to your knees."

The first sailor argued back, "I'm just a regular guy, but he's a Vice Admiral! And not just any Vice Admiral—he's the Chief Instructor of Marine Headquarters! He must be incredibly strong. If I were as strong as him, I'd punch that damn Celestial Dragon to pieces first, then fight my way out of Marine Headquarters and become a pirate who lives for freedom and revenge!"

The others scoffed at his fantasies. "Tch, big talk."

Another sailor, deep in thought, chimed in, "What do you think would happen if a Marine hero like Garp accidentally offended a Celestial Dragon? Would he end up like Wood?"

This sparked another heated debate among the group, but William didn't join in. He had already spotted Gin and the others approaching from the far end of the dock.

"Why are you late?" William stood up from the crate he was sitting on and called out to Gin.

The cargo had already been unloaded. If they weren't waiting for the people to weigh down the ship, they wouldn't have docked for so long, and William wouldn't have had the time to sit around telling stories.

As Gin and the others drew closer, William immediately understood the reason for their delay. A little girl with short, neat black hair was riding piggyback on Vallon.

The girl looked about ten years old, thin and frail. She was clutching a katana that was far too long for her. As soon as she saw William, she lifted her head from Vallon's back and shouted fiercely, "William!"

"Kuina, what are you doing here?" William initially greeted her with a warm smile, but his brow furrowed as his gaze fell upon the katana in her hands. His tone turned stern. "And why did you bring the Wado Ichimonji with you?"

Kuina was the daughter of Koushirou, the master of Isshin Dojo. However, Koushirou never showed any special treatment towards his only child. In both daily training and guidance, he treated her equally.

Although the Wado Ichimonji belonged to Koushirou and would eventually become Kuina's possession, allowing her to use it freely, the journey between Red Leaf Village and Shimotsuki Village wasn't exactly short. For a child of about ten years old to carry such a precious blade posed the risk of it being stolen or taken by force. William understood this all too well, as he also understood the value of the Wado Ichimonji to a swordsman.

"I've come to challenge you!" Kuina struggled to jump down from Vallon's back, only to cry out in pain and land on her bottom.

Gin explained, "Kuina twisted her ankle halfway here. I wanted to take her back to the dojo, but she made such a fuss that Vallon, being too soft-hearted, ended up carrying her here."

Kuina pouted and said, "Gin is a meanie. Vallon isn't soft-hearted; he's a good person."

Vallon scratched the back of his head awkwardly at her words and tried to help Kuina up, but she refused.

Determined, Kuina used her sword as a crutch to stand up, her small face tense with resolve. She declared to William, "Today, I'm challenging you again! If I defeat you, I'll be the strongest disciple in the dojo!"

"Ridiculous!" William shook his head.

Unconvinced, Kuina argued, "I even brought the Wado Ichimonji today, just so I could beat you..."

Before she could finish, William swiftly drew his sheathed blade and struck the Wado Ichimonji, which she was using as a crutch.

Caught off guard and lacking the strength to match William, Kuina's grip on the Wado Ichimonji faltered. The sword flew out of her hands, and she fell hard onto the solid dock.

Despite being just a ten-year-old girl, Kuina was far tougher than her peers. Though her arms and knees were scraped, she didn't seem to care. Instead, she glared at William angrily and said, "You cheated!"

"In a real fight, do you expect your enemy to let you ramble on like that?" William tilted his head. "Do you know what this is called? Overestimating yourself! You were no match for me to begin with, and now you're injured, not even in your best condition, yet you still want to challenge me. If I were a real enemy, your actions would be no different from suicide."

Chapter 33

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 33: Kuina (Part 2)

"If you weren't my junior sister, I'd beat you up first and then take the Wado Ichimonji from you. Let's see how you'd explain that to Master when you go back," William said sternly, trying to intimidate her.

He picked up the Wado Ichimonji, slid it back into its sheath along with his own katana, and then scooped Kuina up into his arms in a princess carry. "I'm very busy. If you want to challenge me, at least defeat Aramis and the others first."

Being carried in such a manner made Kuina blush slightly. She gently pushed against William's chest but failed to budge him. When she heard his words, however, she cast aside her embarrassment and retorted confidently, "They follow you around all day, obeying your every word. What's the point of defeating them? If I'm going to fight, I'll fight the strongest! If I beat you, it's as good as beating all of them!"

Feeling disrespected by the little girl, Aramis grew indignant. He bared his teeth at Kuina and raised his hand as if to slap her. "If you weren't Master Koushirou's daughter, I would—"

Kuina glanced at Aramis, then deliberately leaned her face closer to him. "You would what?"

Aramis grabbed his own wrist, turned his head away, and ignored her.

Watching the two bicker, William couldn't help but chuckle. He handed Kuina over to Gin, instructing him, "Take her to see a doctor and make sure her bones aren't injured."

To ensure Kuina wouldn't act up, William added, "Once you've healed, I'll play with you."

"Play? It's a challenge!" Kuina puffed up her cheeks, protesting angrily.

"Fine, a challenge," William replied with a smile. He gave Gin a knowing look, and the latter, understanding his intent, carried Kuina away.

William had always taken good care of Kuina. Part of it was out of respect for her father, Koushirou. Another part stemmed from the natural affection of someone with a much older mental age for a child like Kuina. And perhaps, there was also a trace of pity.

Kuina's determination and relentless desire to defeat William could largely be attributed to the pressure from her father, Koushirou.

Whether from his past life or his experiences in this world, William understood one undeniable truth: innate talent varies from person to person.

When it came to swordsmanship and combat, even within William's small group, there were clear differences in talent. With the help of the Plaza of Fate and its unique abilities, William and Gin were the most gifted, followed by Edmond, then Aramis, and finally Vallon.

Without the Plaza of Fate, William's natural talent would actually be inferior to Gin's. His initial advantage lay in his education and systematic training in combat knowledge, whereas Gin had relied entirely on self-learning.

After they all began training at the dojo, Gin's progress quickly caught up. Without the Plaza of Fate, William's title as the strongest in the group might not have lasted. While Gin was loyal to him, as their crew expanded in the future and various personalities joined, this imbalance could lead to potential issues.

If William could clearly recognize the disparities in talent, how could Koushirou, a seasoned instructor, not understand?

As a girl, Kuina was naturally limited by her physical attributes. While her progress in the early stages of swordsmanship was rapid, the ceiling above her grew increasingly unbreakable as she advanced.

Koushirou's attitude toward Kuina revealed that he never truly expected her to become an unparalleled swordsman. After all, Kuina was his own child. Even if only to avoid criticism, he wouldn't have treated her with the same detached impartiality as the other disciples.

To put it kindly, Koushirou's approach was "fair treatment." To put it bluntly, it was neglect, akin to raising her with a hands-off approach.

Kuina, precocious as she was, had sensed this on some level. This was why she so desperately sought the title of the dojo's strongest disciple, always striving to defeat the highly regarded William and prove her father wrong.

William snapped out of his thoughts. Because of the time spent dealing with Kuina, the departure of their ship had been delayed. He gave Edmond and Vallon a few brief instructions before sending them aboard.

Among William, Gin, Edmond, Aramis, and Vallon, William was undoubtedly the strongest. As such, he usually took it upon himself to guard the ship during voyages.

Of the remaining four, Gin was the most naturally talented, mature, and diligent, making him the strongest after William. Next was Edmond, who had decent talent, the longest training history, and some battle experience. Then came Aramis, who had some talent but a carefree disposition. Finally, there was Vallon, whose talent was average but who made up for it with hard work.

William divided them into two groups. Initially, he planned to pair Edmond with the clever Aramis and the steady Gin with Vallon. However, due to the friction between Aramis and Edmond, he had to separate them. Thus, Gin and Aramis were paired together, while Edmond and Vallon formed the other team, taking turns guarding the cargo on the ship.

Over the past year, they hadn't encountered any major incidents. In the few naval skirmishes they did face, their enemies were no match for William and his crew.

Suddenly, a raindrop fell on William's face.

"This rain came out of nowhere." Another drop landed on Aramis, prompting him to complain.

William squinted toward the horizon, where thick clouds had quietly gathered.

"Looks like a storm's coming," he murmured.

"Looks like a storm's coming."

In Navia Kingdom, within the noble district of Kalmar City, at the residence of the Minister of Finance.

Butler Eaton glanced at the gloomy sky and muttered to himself. He quickly regained his composure and carried a tray of refreshments into the drawing room.

The master of the house, Count Arcadio, was listening to a report from his trading company's secretary.

"...Based on the intelligence, the local markets have nearly been completely divided. Their strategy is clever. Even with your influence helping us establish a foothold in these regions, opening up markets and seizing space one by one will still require significant time and effort."

Eaton focused on pouring tea, feigning indifference to the secretary's words. Having served Arcadio for many years, he knew his master disliked servants who displayed too much intelligence.

Arcadio blew on his tea to cool it and said casually, "Are the members of the trading company complaining about me? Even in the provinces, I've forbidden them from participating in the smuggling of alcohol this past year."

The secretary, a well-dressed man who often mingled with high society, suddenly dropped to his knees with a loud thud. Sweat poured down his face as he stammered, "My lord, the trading company owes everything to you. We all understand that. Who would be so ungrateful as to harbor even the slightest complaint against you?"

Arcadio let out a nonchalant "Hmm," acknowledging the response. After letting the secretary tremble for a moment longer, he said, "Stand up."

Relieved, the secretary rose as if granted a pardon. Arcadio then spoke in a calm, detached tone, "I trust that none of you are ungrateful. However, I'm sure some of you are curious, so let me explain. The scattered local markets aren't unimportant to me; I simply find them troublesome."

"Since there are fools willing to construct a ready-made network for us, why should we waste our own efforts?"

Chapter 34

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 34: The Storm (Part 1)

The secretary of the trading company wiped his cold sweat with a handkerchief, feigning a look of confusion to flatter the vanity of the important figure before him. "What do you mean, sir?"

"What's the name of that guild again?" Arcadio pondered for a moment.

The secretary cautiously reminded him, "Flash Gold Guild."

"Look at that name," Arcadio chuckled disdainfully. "A bunch of provincial upstarts huddling together for warmth. These insignificant little people are most useful when they toil to pave the way for those in power, saving us the trouble."

"I let these petty individuals, fit only for trivial affairs, scurry about in the provinces to build a trade network. Then, I'll simply pluck the ripe fruit they've prepared."

The secretary cursed inwardly at Arcadio's cunning but outwardly praised him. "Visionary indeed! As expected of a statesman of the kingdom, your perspective has always been leagues above those who can only muddle through local affairs."

He then asked, "So, will you personally reach out to the guild members and have them serve as an auxiliary to our trading company?"

Arcadio raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know what it means to be a noble? When necessary, you only need to command others to act. There will always be small people eager to curry favor and do the work for you. Those who meddle in trivial affairs every day—what kind of 'noble' are they?"

At the docks of Kalmar City, Sassarian was inspecting goods in a warehouse rented by his guild, accompanied by the guild's directors.

Kalmar City's own production capacity was insufficient to meet the needs of its growing population. The city operated like a giant beast, daily absorbing vast quantities of goods transported from various places via its bustling docks.

The Flash Gold Guild was composed of various local merchants from different industries. Their aim was to sell their products, aligning perfectly with the needs of a metropolis like Kalmar.

Under Sassarian's persuasion, these merchants agreed to band together to form the guild, hoping to collectively break into the capital's market.

So far, their efforts seemed to be paying off, Sassarian thought with satisfaction.

Bang!

Just as Sassarian felt content, the warehouse door burst open with a loud crash. A group of fully armed soldiers stormed in, entering the warehouse in a single file.

Several guild members tried to step forward to inquire, but the leading officer rudely shoved them aside. He scanned the area before loudly demanding, "Who is the owner of this warehouse?"

Having dealt with bureaucrats for years, Sassarian assumed the officer was here to extort a bribe. He signaled to the directors beside him and cautiously stepped forward. "That would be me—"

Before Sassarian could finish his sentence, the officer interrupted, scrutinizing him from head to toe. "You're the president of the Flash Gold Guild, Sassarian?"

The officer's tone felt off, causing Sassarian to sense trouble.

Just as he was about to utter some flattering words, the officer waved his hand at the soldiers, who were as fierce as wolves. "Arrest this tax-evading scoundrel!"

The storm arrived in an instant, pouring down torrential rain.

In Arcadio's room, the trading company secretary and Eaton had already left, but new guests arrived one after another.

Arcadio sipped his tea leisurely and addressed the men seated across from him on the sofa. "Arresting just the president isn't enough. I need to teach them a painful lesson. Taming people is much like taming dogs. If you don't hurt them enough to show them who holds absolute power, they won't understand who their master is."

"What do you plan to do?"

"I've heard their ships have a few notable individuals who've repelled some low-level pirates, ensuring smooth transportation. In the East Blue, doing business depends on ships, and even more so on the sea. I want them to understand that without my approval, their goods won't even dare leave the docks."

At that moment, Eaton entered the room carrying a stack of documents. A flash of lightning outside illuminated the room, casting a stark light on the faces of the men across from Arcadio, making their complexions appear ghostly pale and startling Eaton.

It was no surprise Eaton reacted this way. The two men seated across from Arcadio were utterly out of place in the lavishly decorated room and among its opulent host, whether in appearance, attire, or demeanor.

The man sitting farther from the door was as burly as a grizzly bear. He wore a slightly yellowed white shirt under a black vest, the tight fabric barely containing his massive frame. The buttons were only half-fastened, revealing a chest covered in thick body hair.

He wore a black tricorn hat that seemed too small for his oversized head and thick, unruly red hair. The hat barely concealed the wild red locks and half of his skull beneath it.

His red beard, matching his hair color, covered nearly half his face. Despite his overall scruffy appearance, his beard was meticulously groomed and gleamed with oil. The long beard extended down to his chest.

His face bore several deep scars from severe injuries, and his left eye was covered by a black eyepatch. His left hand was fitted with a silver prosthetic limb ending in an iron hook.

The tricorn hat, eyepatch, hook hand, and bushy beard made him resemble the archetypal pirate captain from the stories Eaton had heard as a child.

The man seated beside the "pirate captain" wasn't as flamboyantly dressed but was equally terrifying in appearance.

Like the "pirate captain," he was tall and burly but significantly heavier. His shabby, discolored shirt was half-open, unable to conceal his hairy, protruding belly. What drew the most attention was his face, half of which was covered in severe burn scars, giving him a grotesque yin-yang appearance—one side with messy red hair and the other bald and cratered.

The burned side of his face also had sparse, uneven facial hair, twisted into a barely recognizable goatee.

This fearsome-looking man grinned at Eaton as he entered, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth—a sight as horrifying as it was unsettling.

Though Eaton had met these two men before, their presence never ceased to unnerve him.

Damn pirates! Eaton cursed in his mind, though outwardly he dared not show any sign of disrespect. Behind Arcadio stood several armed guards, two of whom carried weapons tipped with Seastone. These guards hadn't been present when Arcadio was meeting the trading company secretary, indicating that even Arcadio was somewhat wary of the two men before him.

Suppressing his earlier fright, Eaton bowed to the man in the tricorn hat. "Mr. Barbarossa."

He then turned to the scarred, overweight man and bowed again. "Mr. Hayreddin."

The two men nodded casually in response.

Chapter 35

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 35: The Storm (Part 2)

Barbarossa, the captain of the Red-Beard Pirates, carried a bounty as high as 19 million Belly. In the East Blue, this made him one of the most formidable pirates, rivaled only by a select few notable figures such as "Red-Leg" Zeff, the pirate captain who also happened to be a chef.

Hayreddin, the navigator of the Red-Beard Pirates, along with another crewmate named Reis, were Barbarossa's most trusted confidants, having sailed with him since the very beginning. The two were also cousins.

Eaton handed a stack of documents to Arcadio, who briefly skimmed through them before passing them to Barbarossa.

"This is a schedule of the target ship's dock arrivals and departures, along with their regular sailing routes," Arcadio said calmly. "I want you to seize their cargo and kill everyone onboard."

Barbarossa remained silent, but Arcadio wasn't bothered. He chuckled lightly. "Your bounty has recently increased again, but I had someone suppress it, shifting the blame for the crimes onto other pirates. Nineteen million Belly is impressive, but it's still a far cry from crossing the 20-million mark."

"But won't my bounty go up again after this job? What's the point?" Barbarossa replied indifferently.

"As long as you keep the operation within the waters controlled by the Navia Kingdom, this matter won't make waves, and your bounty won't increase because of it," a voice interjected as the door creaked open.

Everyone in the room turned to see who had spoken. It was a short Marine officer, though his stature was small, his presence was anything but. Draped in the white coat of a Marine officer, complete with gold tassels on the shoulders, he also clenched a thick cigar between his teeth.

If William, Gin, or the others were present, they would have found him familiar. This short man was none other than the Marine commander who had once relentlessly pursued Danton's pirate crew, forcing them to flee in disarray.

Barbarossa and Hayreddin both frowned simultaneously, but Arcadio greeted the newcomer with enthusiasm. "Lieutenant Commander Roy..."

Before he could finish, a young Marine with shifty eyes and a sly grin, dressed in a standard Marine uniform, interrupted. "It's Captain Roy!"

"Nezumi!" Captain Roy raised a hand to stop the young Marine, Nezumi, from saying more. "The Count is an old friend of mine. Show some respect!"

Though Arcadio was inwardly displeased with Nezumi's rudeness, he didn't let it show. Instead, he clapped his hands together, feigning delight. "That's the best news I've heard all day."

Captain Roy was in charge of the 16th Marine Branch, whose jurisdiction included the waters surrounding the Navia Kingdom. He and Arcadio had known each other for quite some time.

After exchanging a few pleasantries with Arcadio, Captain Roy sat on the sofa, positioning himself opposite Arcadio, Barbarossa, and Hayreddin.

At this moment, the room had gathered three types of people: a powerful noble of the kingdom, the highest-ranking officer of the local Marine branch, and one of the most infamous pirates in the East Blue.

Power, authority, and brute force.

On the grand stage of the world, such an alliance might seem insignificant. But in the East Blue, within the territory of the Navia Kingdom, the collusion of these three forces was enough to weave a suffocating net over ordinary people.

When predators in the natural world hunt for food, they never hold back, whether their prey is a fox, a rabbit, or a wolf.

"When is this rain going to stop?"

In the midst of the raging storm, Vallon shouted at the top of his lungs.

The torrential downpour had lasted for three days without any sign of letting up.

The cargo ship that Vallon and Edmond were tasked with guarding swayed precariously under the might of nature's fury, resembling nothing more than a toy boat struggling to stay afloat.

Edmond was busy adjusting the sails. The pounding rain and fierce winds forced him to shout at the top of his voice just to be heard. "Why do you care when it stops? Are you planning to sit here and wait for death?"

Vallon fell silent. He wiped the rainwater from his face, stealing a glance around. At the stern of the ship, he noticed a sailor waving his arms frantically, shouting something incomprehensible amidst the storm. Everyone else was too preoccupied with managing the ship to pay attention to him, and the sound of the rain drowned out his voice.

"Edmond!" Vallon called out.

Edmond, who had just grabbed a sailor slipping dangerously close to falling overboard, responded irritably, "What now?"

"There's something happening back there!" Vallon pointed toward the sailor at the stern.

By this time, a few other crew members had also noticed the sailor's frantic gestures.

Edmond and Vallon hurried over. When they reached the sailor, they finally heard what he was shouting. "There's a ship! Looks like a pirate ship! I saw a black flag!"

Edmond pulled out a handheld telescope from his coat and looked in the direction the sailor was pointing.

Sure enough, through the rain, a three-masted schooner was approaching them with clear malicious intent. The storm made visibility difficult, but occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the black flag tied to the opposing ship's mast.

"Another bunch of fools asking for death!" Edmond sneered coldly.

But the sailor who had raised the alarm suddenly shouted again, this time with a trembling voice. "It's the Red-Beard Pirates! It's the Red-Beard Pirates!"

The ship's first mate arrived just in time to hear this. Like Edmond and Vallon, his face turned pale upon hearing the name.

Barbarossa and his Red-Beard Pirates had roamed the East Blue for years, their infamy spreading far and wide. Protected from Marine crackdowns, their reputation had grown monstrous. Tales and rumors about them were endless—some claimed Barbarossa was invulnerable to swords and bullets, others said he had signed a pact with a sea demon, trading his soul for the ability to wield magic against his enemies. This, they said, was why he was so powerful and so merciless.

It was said that all prisoners captured by Barbarossa were sacrificed to the demon.

"Throw the cargo overboard! We might still have a chance to escape!" The first mate quickly assessed the distance between the two ships. Their vessel was a cargo ship, slower than the enemy's schooner. However, thanks to the storm, if they lightened their load and gained speed, they might be able to temporarily shake off the Red-Beard Pirates. In this weather, with such low visibility, losing them would make pursuit much harder.

"No way!" Edmond rejected the suggestion almost immediately. "In this kind of weather, if we lose our ballast, we might capsize!"

In truth, capsizing wasn't as likely as Edmond made it sound. His refusal was more about his pride. Other crewmates had never abandoned cargo and fled in disgrace. If he did so, he'd feel humiliated.

"What 'Red-Beard'? Signing contracts with demons?" Edmond scoffed, trying to rally morale. "Vallon, I bet he's just like that Danton pirate you told me about, making up stories to scare people."

"If he were really such a great pirate, he would've gone to the Grand Line long ago. Anyone still lingering here after so long is just trash. Over the past year, we've taken down plenty of pirates like this—cowards who only dare to terrorize civilians," Edmond said, grinning at Vallon. "I remember you told me about stealing Danton's treasure map. This time, I'll learn from you and rob an even bigger pirate!"

Chapter 36

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 36: The Storm (Part 3)

Although it was merely a cargo ship, in a world plagued by rampant piracy, it wasn't entirely defenseless.

Boom!

The cargo ship Edmond and Vallon were aboard had a few small cannons mounted at the stern. As soon as the Red-Beard Pirates' ship came within range, all the cannons fired simultaneously. In response, orange-red flashes erupted from the pirate ship—they had returned fire.

However, in such treacherous weather, hitting a moving target at sea with cannons was almost entirely up to luck.

The notorious reputation of the Red-Beard Pirates hung heavily over the crew. Though the sailors picked up weapons to resist, their hands trembled with fear. The captain and others desperately tried to dissuade Edmond from engaging, but their incessant pleading only irritated him further.

As the two ships drew dangerously close, the captain, gritting his teeth, prepared to override Edmond's objections and order the crew to jettison the cargo and flee. But before he could act, a volley of grappling hooks flew from the pirate ship, latching onto the cargo ship's railings.

On the other side, pirates from the Red-Beard Pirates braced their feet against their own ship's railing, pulling hard on the ropes to close the gap between the two vessels.

Edmond realized that a melee battle was imminent. He quickly ordered Vallon to guard the bow while he held the stern.

Vallon had just stepped into the side passage when the ship suddenly jolted—the two vessels had collided. The pirates who had thrown the grappling hooks tied the other ends of the ropes to their ship's masts, binding the two ships together and making separation impossible for the time being.

The side-mounted cannons of both ships ceased firing due to overheating and proximity issues, resulting in a brief lull. However, the silence was shattered by the sudden roar of a cannon from the pirate ship.

Unlike lesser pirate gangs that cobbled together ships from stolen merchant vessels, the Red-Beard Pirates' ship was a true warship. Nearly 30 meters long, its upper deck was as wide as a third of the ship's length. The towering fore and aft decks made boarding enemy ships effortless during close encounters.

Moreover, the ship was armed not only with side-mounted cannons but also with smaller, more agile cannons mounted on the deck structures. It was one of these deck cannons that had just fired.

The cannon shot seemed to signal the start of a fierce exchange. Weapons of all kinds—throwing knives, hand axes, bullets—were hurled across the gap between the ships. Edmond and Vallon quickly crouched down, but inexperienced sailors and rookie pirates, unaware of how to take cover, fell like wheat under a scythe. The casualties from this exchange of projectiles far exceeded those caused by the earlier cannon fire.

As the ranged attacks subsided, the pirates began boarding en masse. Edmond charged forward with his blade, cutting down several bold pirates who led the assault. However, the sheer number of pirates overwhelmed the cargo ship's crew, whose overall combat skills were no match for their opponents. More and more pirates swarmed aboard.

After cutting down another pirate, Edmond was about to rally the crew when a massive figure suddenly leapt toward him.

Edmond instinctively leapt backward, creating distance between himself and the attacker. The spot where he had been standing moments ago was obliterated by a giant spiked mace, leaving a gaping hole in the deck.

"Reis, the first mate!" shouted several pirates, their voices filled with excitement as they scattered to avoid the clash.

Edmond raised his blade horizontally, instantly recognizing the man before him as a formidable opponent and a significant figure among the pirates. He knew that if he could defeat this man quickly, it would deal a heavy blow to the pirates' morale.

Meanwhile, Vallon, who had been held up fighting pirates in the side passage, noticed the confrontation and wanted to assist.

But as both Vallon and Edmond focused entirely on the man the pirates called their first mate, the latter suddenly smirked and pointed toward the deck structure of his own ship.

Edmond's mind raced, and he instinctively shifted his body to the side.

At that exact moment, a deafening cannon blast erupted from the pirate ship's deck structure.

Boom!

The cannonball struck directly beneath Edmond's feet. The force of the explosion and the splintering deck threw him off balance, and several sharp wooden shards embedded themselves in his body. Before he could recover, Reis was already swinging his massive spiked mace toward him.

Years of training saved Edmond's life. Despite the ringing in his ears and his disoriented state, he instinctively raised his blade to block the incoming attack.

However, the spiked mace was a heavy weapon, and parrying it with a blade required exceptional skill. In his weakened state, Edmond's grip faltered, and the blade was knocked from his hands by the sheer force of the blow.

Though the mace's momentum had lessened, it still struck Edmond's body, sending him flying across the deck. His combat instincts kicked in, and he rolled repeatedly upon landing, narrowly avoiding Reis's follow-up attack.

Reis laughed heartily and prepared to pursue, but Vallon arrived just in time. Drawing a pistol mid-sprint, he fired a shot at Reis, forcing him to dodge. Seizing the opportunity, Vallon grabbed Edmond and retreated toward the bow.

By the time Reis had dispatched a few crew members blocking his path, Edmond and Vallon had disappeared from sight.

Vallon dragged Edmond to the bow, only to find that the situation there was equally dire.

The pirates had nearly taken full control of the bow. The corpulent Hayreddin was methodically moving among the fallen sailors, finishing off the wounded. The sound of his blade piercing and withdrawing from bodies echoed repeatedly. To Hayreddin, it was a melody, and he smiled with satisfaction.

Without Edmond's skill to bolster them, few of the sailors at the bow were still standing.

Edmond, with his fiery red hair, and Vallon, with his bald head, were both highly conspicuous. Hayreddin's eyes quickly locked onto them as they emerged from the passage. After a moment's pause, he let out a grotesque laugh and charged toward them.

Edmond, pale and bleeding profusely, gritted his teeth. "The ship is lost. I'll hold him off. Vallon, you—"

Before Edmond could finish, Vallon hoisted him up and tossed him straight into a lifeboat hanging off the side of the ship.

Edmond landed heavily in the wooden boat with a groan of pain. Vallon leaned over the railing, wiping the rain from his bald head, and gave Edmond a goofy smile. "You go first. I'll be right behind you!"

Edmond's expression changed, but Vallon didn't give him a chance to protest. With two swift strikes, he cut the ropes securing the lifeboat, sending it plunging into the sea.

When Vallon turned back, Hayreddin was already upon him. However, the corpulent navigator lacked the combat prowess of his cousin Reis and was no match for Vallon. After a brief exchange, Vallon managed to land a strike on Hayreddin's shoulder.

Just as Vallon prepared to press his advantage, he noticed the sky darken above him. Looking up, he saw a massive red mass, larger than a person, hurtling toward him like a cannonball.

The lightning illuminated the mass, revealing a metallic sheen. Vallon quickly retreated, only to see the mass unfold mid-air, revealing Barbarossa within. His wild red hair, bushy beard, and thick chest hair were the source of that strange appearance.

Barbarossa landed with a thud, his laughter echoing like thunder.

Chapter 37

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 37: The Killing Intent (Part 1)

Barbarossa landed on the deck, shielding Hayreddin. As he did so, his beard began to grow wildly, forming a mass of snake-like hair that attacked Vallon. Despite this, he casually asked, "Are you alright?"

"One of them seems to have escaped on a lifeboat," Hayreddin replied, his chubby face twitching from the pain of his wound, before snarling, "When I catch that little bald guy, I'll make him pay!"

"Red-Beard" Barbarossa glanced at the foul weather, nonchalantly saying, "In this weather, if he survives, he's lucky."

Meanwhile, Vallon struggled fiercely against the snake-like hair. If Barbarossa's ability had initially shocked him, the metallic clang when his blade struck the hair, only severing a few strands, deepened his astonishment.

Vallon realized that unless he reached the level Koushirou had described, where one could cut through steel, he stood no chance against these iron-like hairs. His swordsmanship was the weakest among William's crew; even William hadn't reached the "Iron Cutting" level. Vallon was thus helpless against Barbarossa's steel-like hair.

After a brief struggle, Vallon was caught off guard and entangled by Barbarossa's hair, which gradually wrapped around him, leaving only his bald head exposed.

Barbarossa controlled the hair to pull Vallon closer.

Pain etched across Vallon's face as Barbarossa's hair tightened like steel wires, causing him immense discomfort.

Nearby, Hayreddin clutched his bleeding shoulder, watching Vallon's pained expression with a look of satisfaction on his scarred face. "Scared yet?"

Vallon grimaced, then spat a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva onto Hayreddin's face. Despite being a typically honest and simple young man, he showed no fear, gritting his teeth as he declared, "Someone will avenge me!"

Hayreddin paused, slowly wiping the spit from his face, his expression turning sinister as he chuckled ominously. "Brotherly love, huh? I admire you!"

Edmond's ears buzzed incessantly. First, he was blasted by an explosion, then struck by a spiked mace, and finally thrown overboard with the lifeboat. Now, his insides felt displaced, and even aboard the small boat, the raging storm caused him to choke on seawater multiple times. The tiny lifeboat threatened to capsize at any moment amid the fierce wind and rain.

Sharks circled the area around the two ships, these intelligent creatures waiting for bodies to fall into the water.

The lifeboat had drifted some distance from the cargo ship due to the waves and wind. Edmond, temporarily safe from the sharks, anxiously watched the cargo ship's deck, rain soaking his eyes, yet he never blinked.

For the first time, the fearless Edmond found himself praying to the gods, but such last-minute pleas seemed ineffective. He watched helplessly as a small figure was tossed from the ship's bow into the shark-infested waters.

A lightning bolt split the sky, illuminating the sea and revealing the figure in mid-air. The small figure's limbs hung lifelessly, blood flowing freely, with a bald head starkly visible under the lightning's glow.

Edmond's face contorted in agony, tears mingling with the rain on his cheeks. Time seemed to freeze, and the world lost its color. The cacophony of voices and sounds echoed in his mind.

Vallon's bloodied form hit the water with a splash, turning the sea red.

Edmond crawled to the boat's edge, ignoring his injuries, and dove into the water, desperately swimming toward the sharks. However, wounded as he was, he could only watch as the victorious shark dragged Vallon's body toward the depths.

Edmond screamed in rage, but only managed to release two powerless bubbles into the sea.

Edmond had never understood why the intelligent and skilled swordsman William would mingle so freely with the ordinary sailors, dockworkers, and fishermen, who seemed to have no particular talents.

Whenever William squatted among these people, he showed no impatience.

It wasn't until Edmond faced adversity that he realized the significance of William's actions.

Due to the collusion between Count Arcadio, Captain Roy, and Red-Beard Barbarossa, the attacks on William's trade network within the Navia Kingdom were comprehensive, involving not only pirate forces but also official ones—the Marines of the 16th Division and the kingdom's military police.

The Marines and military police didn't have photos of William and his crew, but that didn't stop them from sealing off known supply points and arresting and interrogating suspicious individuals.

Undoubtedly, Edmond now epitomized "suspicious." His face was pale as paper, his wounds swollen and white from seawater, with burn marks near his right ear and his clothes in tatters.

As Edmond, unaware of the situation, struggled ashore at a village after his boat capsized, a boy from a poor family was the first to find him. The boy didn't consider alerting officials or Marines; instead, he quietly took Edmond home and hid him.

This boy, named Oliver, had once worked at the docks and seen William, occasionally spotting Edmond too. He knew the pitiful figure before him was William's friend.

William's interactions with these people were more than just camaraderie; they were a way to establish his image and deepen his influence. This behavior paid off when it mattered most. Though these ordinary folk seemed talentless, they could serve as William's eyes and ears.

Oliver's decision to help Edmond wasn't necessarily noble; he simply believed that handing Edmond over to the haughty Marines and officials wouldn't be as rewarding as entrusting him to the generous and righteous William.

Without William's consistent efforts to subtly influence the mixed crowd at the docks and build his reputation among the common folk, Edmond would have been doomed.

Oliver, quite bold, hid Edmond for several days, informing him of the pursuit. He even agreed to Edmond's request, hiding him in the secret hold of his family's fishing boat to evade the Marines and kingdom's forces, transporting him to Maple Village.

In the stormy seas, Edmond nearly lost consciousness multiple times, but one resolute thought kept him fighting for survival.

As Edmond curled up in the cramped, pitch-black hidden compartment, listening to the waves and the footsteps of soldiers checking the deck, he felt fear for the first time. This fear wasn't of death but of failing to avenge Vallon's brutal end.

The soldiers' footsteps faded, yet Vallon's goofy smile lingered in Edmond's mind. In the darkness, Edmond's bloodshot eyes widened as he murmured, "I will avenge you, Vallon."

 

Chapter 38

Chapter 38: The Killing Intent (Part 2)

The small boat carrying Edmond and Oliver finally arrived safely at the dock of Maple Village.

Feeling he had stumbled upon a chance to prove himself, Oliver trusted no one. Even when confronted by Tony's subordinates, he refused to speak, insisting on personally escorting Edmond to meet William. Left with no other choice, Tony's men brought both Oliver and Edmond to William and Tony.

At the time, William was pacing around Maple Village. The cargo ship that Edmond and Vallon had been aboard hadn't arrived at the dock as scheduled, which had already made him suspicious. He had been waiting for news at Tony's tavern.

The moment Edmond saw William, the worry and anxiety that had been weighing on him for days suddenly eased. His eyes welled up with tears as he exclaimed, "William, our ship was hijacked by the Red-Beard Pirates."

Both William and Tony's expressions darkened at once.

Tony immediately asked, "What about the cargo?"

William, however, asked in a steady voice, "What about the people?"

Standing to the side, Oliver glanced at Tony, then at William, and finally lowered his head. He didn't understand the difference in priorities between "cargo first, people second" and "people first, cargo second," but the latter unquestionably made him, someone who had worked for William before, feel more at ease.

Edmond ignored Tony and, with reddened eyes, turned to William. "Everyone on board was likely killed. Vallon... Vallon was killed too!"

Hearing the mention of the "Red-Beard Pirates," Tony had already lost his composure. When he learned that the crew had been slaughtered and even Vallon was dead, his panic only deepened. He muttered to himself, "What do we do now?"

William, on the other hand, forced himself to remain calm. Pressing his lips together, he stopped Edmond from saying anything further and instructed Angie to find some men to take the weakened Edmond to see a doctor.

Once Edmond had been escorted away, William pulled out his wallet from his pocket, then took Tony's wallet as well. He emptied the money from both and gently placed it into Oliver's hands.

"Oliver, is that your name? I remember you. Consider this a personal favor I owe you. Don't think this is too little; take it, wander around the village for a bit, and stay here for the night. Tomorrow—"

Before William could finish, Oliver interrupted him, "Sir, I don't want the money. I just want a chance."

As he spoke, Oliver pushed William's hand back.

William was momentarily stunned but ultimately placed the money back into Oliver's hands. "This money has nothing to do with you saving Edmond. Have you ever studied?"

Oliver, tempted by the money, hesitated before answering. When he heard William's question, he sheepishly shook his head.

"Then can you endure hardship?" William continued to ask.

Oliver eagerly nodded. "I've been on my own since I was a child, taking care of myself. I've never been afraid of hard work, Mr. William."

"Alright then," William said, waving Manny over. Turning back to Oliver, he added, "From today onward, you'll stay here. I'll have Manny arrange for a teacher to teach you to read and send you to a dojo to learn swordsmanship. I'll cover your tuition and living expenses. Once you've honed your skills, you can work for me. If you choose to seek opportunities elsewhere, I won't stop you. Do you agree?"

Oliver nodded excitedly, and William, seeing this, carefully instructed Manny in front of him, earning Oliver's deep gratitude before he followed Manny away.

Once the others had left, William's face darkened. He glanced at the despondent Tony, then pulled out his Transponder Snail to contact Gin and Aramis, who were far away in Shimotsuki Village.

In the best clinic in Maple Village, William waited until he was alone with Edmond before having him recount everything in detail.

Edmond didn't shirk responsibility, nor did he conceal any of the foolish mistakes he had made.

To Edmond, William was like an elder brother. When they were alone, Edmond's face was filled with regret and pain as he recounted how his actions had led to Vallon's death. He nearly broke into tears again.

William consoled Edmond, urging him to focus on recovery. Once Edmond had taken his medicine and fallen asleep, William left the room.

"That idiot Edmond!"

Outside Edmond's hospital room, Aramis, who had just arrived, cursed with bloodshot eyes after hearing William's detailed account of the events. He stormed toward the room, but William grabbed him, dragging him out of the clinic.

"Do you want Edmond to die too?"

"He got Vallon killed!" Aramis shouted, his face twisted with anger.

"Shut up!" William locked eyes with him, enunciating each word clearly. "I'll only say this once: the ones who killed Vallon are the Red-Beard Pirates!"

Aramis, seething with rage, stared at William for a moment before turning away. Drawing his sword, he began hacking furiously at a small tree outside the clinic.

"What did Sherlock say?" Gin, standing nearby, asked in a hoarse voice.

Though Gin's mood wasn't much better than Aramis's, he was more composed. The loss of a crewmate who had sailed and trained alongside them weighed heavily on him. However, he was mature enough not to let his anger cloud his judgment.

To be blunt, from the moment they chose the path of piracy, they had anticipated a day like this. The reality of a pirate's life was far from the romanticized tales of adventure—it was like strong liquor, both fragrant and bitter. Among pirates, there were moments of joy and laughter, but also those of sorrow and loss.

"I just contacted Sherlock. It turns out his father was recently arrested and interrogated on charges of 'tax evasion.' Sherlock initially thought it was for unrelated reasons, so he didn't mention it to us. Like Edmond, he's too proud at his core, even if he seems more easygoing on the surface," William explained, lighting a cigarette he had bought on his way to the clinic. After exhaling a puff of smoke, he continued, "But now, considering what Edmond said about being hunted and Sherlock's father's arrest, it's clear this attack involved not just pirates, but also the Marines and the Navia Kingdom's official forces."

Gin's face darkened. Though steady by nature, he was still young and hadn't faced many setbacks. Over the past year, under William's leadership, their smuggling business had flourished. Their wallets were full, and they were often surrounded by admirers at the docks. Life had seemed perfect.

But now, they had been struck by a harsh reality. The Navia Kingdom was a member nation of the World Government, and the Marines directly represented the World Government's authority.

Most industries operate like a pyramid. While a few at the top enjoy unparalleled success, the vast majority occupy the middle and lower levels. Comparing themselves to those at the pinnacle was unrealistic.

Though William's crew wasn't at the very bottom like the most desperate pirates, they were far from reaching the level of top-tier pirates who could openly defy the Marines and the World Government.

"So what do we do next?" Gin asked.

Unlike the younger members of his crew, William, a seasoned transmigrator who had weathered countless storms in his previous life, remained composed.

After a moment of silence, he crushed his lit cigarette in his hand. His expression turned cold, and his voice carried neither fear nor hesitation. "We find every mastermind involved, and we carve them up one by one to avenge Vallon!"

"Victory and defeat must both be tasted. Only after enduring the bitterness of fleeing, the pain of loss, and the weight of sorrow can a man truly stand on his own. Even if you cry your heart out, you must overcome this trial."

《One Piece：The True Codex》Volume 1: Running and Fighting, Complete.

Next Volume: The Demon of the East Blue.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a hand for a hand, a foot for a foot!

 

 

《One Piece：The True Codex》Volume 1: Important Character Archetypes

In the original work "ONE PIECE," almost all significant characters have real-life inspirations. For instance, the notorious historical pirate "Blackbeard" Edward Teach inspired the names of two major characters in the series: "Whitebeard" Edward Newgate and "Blackbeard" Marshall D. Teach. This clever use of Easter eggs and distinctive features is something I hope to emulate in my book, where important characters also have archetypes.

On the other hand, since these are Easter eggs, they should offer surprises. The archetypes of significant characters in this book are not randomly chosen; they often have intricate connections with the characters' experiences, backgrounds, or personalities. Astute and attentive readers might be able to deduce many things by combining details and foreshadowing from the book with the character archetypes, thus enjoying the fun of Easter eggs.

The initial trio—Gin, Vallon, and Aramis—are essentially the protagonist William's "Three Musketeers." Besides Gin being an original character from "ONE PIECE," the other two are inspired by characters from the novel "The Three Musketeers," which a fellow "Blackbeard" enthusiast had already guessed.

Vallon: Inspired by the protagonist D'Artagnan (Bordeaux) from "The Three Musketeers." In the novel, Vallon is loyal and brave, yet he is the first to die, crushed by a boulder while assisting his companions.

Aramis: Inspired by the titular character from "The Three Musketeers," known for his cunning and ruthlessness compared to his companions.

Edmond: Inspired by the protagonist Edmond Dantès from "The Count of Monte Cristo," also known as "The Revenge of Monte Cristo." The entire story revolves around the theme of "revenge." In the previous version, this character was killed off, leading old readers to speculate about his fate this time. The Easter egg here is that this character, liked by some old readers, does not die but continues to represent the theme of "revenge," which extends into the second volume. Just like the archetype character, he grows through setbacks and hardships.

Tony: Named after the protagonist of Al Pacino's classic gangster film "Scarface." In this book, Tony's archetype is from the film, while Manny and Angie are the names of Tony's two subordinates in the movie.

Gazette: In the 10th century, the Venetian copper coin was called "Gazette." As a trading center of the world at the time, Venice was a wealthy commercial area with many artisans, providing fertile ground for small newspapers and similar institutions. Initially, these newspapers were sold sporadically and hawked along the streets for the price of one copper coin. Later, such newspapers spread throughout Europe, becoming known as the Venetian Gazette.

Oliver: Inspired by the protagonist of "Oliver Twist." In the old version, Edmond saved him, but in the new version, he saves Edmond.

Arcadio and Aureliano: The Buendía family's archetype background is from the characters in "One Hundred Years of Solitude." In short, this family is chaotic.

The Red-Beard Brothers—Barbarossa, Hayreddin, and Reis: Their names are inspired by the renowned Arab pirate "Redbeard" Barbarossa Hayreddin. Reis is one of the Turkish aliases. Historically, Redbeard was not only a sailor and pirate but also an admiral of the Ottoman Turkish Empire. In the book, it was mentioned that pirates wrapped supplies in pirate flags and threw them onto the docks for civilians, referring to Redbeard's legendary story.

Norton I: Inspired by Joshua Norton, the real-life Emperor of the United States. Born in England, he came to San Francisco in the American West during the Gold Rush but went bankrupt overnight, eventually losing his mind and declaring himself Emperor of the United States. He became a mascot for local newspapers and the government to boost their popularity. However, it is said that apart from declaring himself emperor, his behavior was relatively normal, and he had a desire to improve, though it was ultimately futile.

Morgan William: The protagonist's archetype is based on two historically famous figures.

"Henry Morgan" was one of the most notorious pirates of the 17th century, known for raiding Spanish Caribbean colonies. He became a pirate leader at a young age, holding both official and pirate status. Through intelligence and courage, he rose from a novice sailor to a feared pirate, leader, and governor, establishing the "Pirate Code" to maintain pirate order.

"William I," also known as "William the Conqueror," was originally the Duke of Normandy, referred to as "William the Bastard." When his cousin, King Edward the Confessor, died childless, the great noble Harold was crowned. William claimed that Edward had promised him the throne, invaded England, defeated his rival, and declared himself king, known as "William the Conqueror."

William I heavily favored and granted land to the Normans, suppressing Anglo-Saxon nobility, forcing lords to pledge allegiance, and compiling the "Domesday Book." He was one of the most influential monarchs of medieval Europe, impacting rulers, the English language, and the upper echelons of society and the church.

Additionally, it must be noted that the Normans were originally a branch left by the Viking pirates.

The Vikings and their descendants once entered inland along the river, besieging Paris after capturing Rouen. Although they failed to conquer Paris, they plundered the eastern agricultural areas of France thoroughly, eventually leaving with compensation without returning to Scandinavia, instead settling in Normandy. Later, the French king acknowledged the status of these robbers in Normandy, granting them the title of duke, and the Vikings reciprocated by acknowledging the king's status.

So strictly speaking, "William the Conqueror" can also be considered a pirate king.

Chapter 39

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 39: Koushirou's Way of the Sword

In the courtyard, Koushirou had planted several cherry trees. By April, the trees were in full bloom, their pink blossoms radiating a delicate fragrance and vibrant beauty.

William stood silently under the cherry trees, staring blankly at the blossoms. He was still dressed in a black suit, having just attended Vallon's funeral.

Since Vallon's body could not be recovered, they had placed his usual clothing into the coffin instead.

Aramis, still harboring resentment toward Edmond, had left quietly after the funeral. Edmond, on the other hand, lingered at Vallon's grave, muttering to himself for a long time, his words incomprehensible.

William, however, sought solitude. As the core and pillar of the team, he had no room to falter. Tony could collapse into despair, Gin could sink into melancholy, Aramis could rage, and Edmond could wallow in self-pity. Anyone else in the group could vent their negative emotions in front of others. But in these dire circumstances, William could not afford such luxuries.

He had to stabilize morale—both within and beyond the team.

Two sets of footsteps approached from behind, prompting William to turn around. It was Koushirou, holding Kuina's small hand as they walked toward him.

"William!" Kuina called out. She had also attended Vallon's funeral, dressed in a plain-colored dress.

Her eyes were swollen from crying. Now, seeing William standing alone under the cherry tree with a sorrowful expression, she inexplicably began to cry again.

Among their small group, William, with his much older mental age, treated Kuina like a child. Aramis was sharp-tongued, Gin was too reserved, and Edmond was too prideful. Only Vallon, with his simple and kindhearted nature, treated Kuina the best. The two had shared the closest bond.

"Aramis said he's going to set sail to avenge Vallon," Kuina sobbed as she rubbed her eyes. "Please don't go out to sea. I don't want anything to happen to you too."

The sadness on William's face receded as he looked toward the open space, remaining silent. Seeing this, Koushirou sighed and gently patted Kuina's head, instructing her to fetch the Wado Ichimonji.

"I can feel the heavy killing intent in your heart," Koushirou said in a somber tone once Kuina had left. "You are the most talented student in this dojo. One day, you will undoubtedly become an extraordinary swordsman..."

William interrupted, "Sensei, you must have realized by now—I have never been a mere swordsman. Edmond, Vallon, even Kuina might aspire to be pure swordsmen, but I never will."

A trace of disappointment appeared on Koushirou's face, but he did not try to persuade William further. From the way William had risen to become a local smuggling kingpin within just a year, it was evident that, despite his youth, he possessed a resolute will, clear goals, and the ability to achieve them. He was not someone easily swayed by others.

The atmosphere grew heavy with silence. Moments later, Kuina returned, carrying the Wado Ichimonji. Only then did Koushirou speak again.

"Since you've decided to set sail, William, let me teach you something more."

"Anger is a form of power!"

Koushirou raised the Wado Ichimonji before him and slowly drew the blade. "But you must control it, rather than letting it control you!"

As the blade gradually emerged from its sheath, Koushirou's demeanor grew increasingly cold. Gone was his usual gentle air, replaced by an aura of steady determination.

Once the sword was fully drawn, Koushirou approached one of the cherry trees, standing still for a moment before suddenly striking the trunk with the hilt of his sword.

The force was applied with such precision that the cherry tree merely swayed gently, yet its blossoms fell like snowflakes, drifting softly to the ground.

Amidst the cascade of cherry blossoms, Koushirou began to perform a sword dance. He slashed, hacked, thrust, and parried, his movements gradually accelerating. As his footwork shifted, he abandoned the rigid forms he used when teaching students at the dojo. His sword strikes flowed freely, ever-changing yet never chaotic, imbued with a unique rhythm.

Koushirou's sword movements grew faster and faster, the wind generated by his blade lifting the falling cherry blossoms around him. The petals swirled and danced with his movements, enveloping him in a mesmerizing shroud of pink.

Kuina watched with her mouth agape, while William stared intently at Koushirou, his expression solemn.

As Koushirou's speed gradually slowed, the cherry blossoms around him began to settle on the ground. None of the petals remained intact; each had been neatly sliced in half, blending into the soil.

Eventually, all the blossoms had fallen, save for a single pristine petal. This lone petal floated up and down with Koushirou's slow, deliberate sword movements, never straying more than half a foot from the blade of the Wado Ichimonji. It danced around the sword like a living butterfly.

Koushirou's movements were so deliberate that William could clearly see the "butterfly" landing on the blade multiple times. Each time, Koushirou skillfully adjusted his force, ensuring that the razor-sharp Wado Ichimonji never harmed the petal in the slightest.

William was no longer the novice he had been when he first transmigrated. After years of study, he had gained a deep understanding of swordsmanship. He fully grasped the brilliance of Koushirou's technique, his eyes shining as he watched the sword dance without blinking.

After a while, Koushirou exhaled softly and ceased his movements. The cherry petal began to fall, but before it could touch the ground, Koushirou caught it between two fingers. Then, to William's astonishment, he blew gently on the petal, causing it to disintegrate into tiny fragments that scattered into the soil.

"The heart is the measure of one's world," Koushirou said after steadying his breath.

With that, he casually swung the Wado Ichimonji—a motion even more relaxed than his earlier sword dance. Yet as he did so, a decorative stone five meters away from the three of them was sliced cleanly in half as if by an invisible blade.

"When your heart is strong enough, you will naturally master the sword in your hand."

"At that point, the blade in your hand will no longer be a lifeless object. It will become a part of your body. You must see it as an extension of your own hands, capable of striking with the force of a clenched fist or caressing with the gentleness of an open palm. The balance between strength and softness depends entirely on the wielder." Koushirou sheathed the Wado Ichimonji with a soft click.

William instinctively glanced at his own hands, then at the katana at his waist, a look of contemplation crossing his face.

As William pondered Koushirou's exquisite swordsmanship and philosophy, a familiar notification appeared in his mind from the Plaza of Fate. Several lines of text materialized out of thin air:

"【Beginner Swordsmanship】 has advanced to 【Basic Swordsmanship】."

"The path of [Sword Prodigy] has been completed."

"Acquired the special feat: [Zen Sword Arts]."

"Acquired the achievement feat: [Sudden Enlightenment]."

William's heart trembled.

(Another chapter will be released at 8 PM.)

Chapter 40

《One Piece：The True Codex》 Chapter 40: Toys

When William once again entered the mysterious space deep within his consciousness, as expected, a marble archway suddenly appeared at the end of the path of fate.

The archway, crafted from marble, was adorned with simple carvings. Behind it, the Plaza of Fate had undergone significant changes, now appearing grand and opulent.

The previously rough stone path had transformed, like the archway, into a smooth marble pavement.

At the very center of the plaza stood a marble statue over three meters tall, immediately drawing attention. The entire plaza now exuded an air of grandeur and magnificence.

William approached the statue and looked up. The figure wore a suit, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of a sword at his waist, his head slightly tilted upward with a faintly sorrowful expression. The lifelike statue depicted none other than himself, standing beneath the cherry blossoms.

Everything in this space seemed intricately connected to his progress in the real world.

As if startled by William's gaze, a large number of Threads of Fate suddenly appeared above the statue—hundreds of them. Among these, many were fragile, constantly breaking and reconnecting under an invisible force.

William paid little attention to these tenuous threads. Instead, he focused on the few resilient ones. One particular thread stood out, emitting a metallic twang as if a steel wire strained under immense pressure.

Then, right before William's eyes, this resilient Thread of Fate snapped. Unlike the fragile threads that reconnected under unseen forces, this one gradually faded into the void.

William pressed his lips together. He knew this thread likely represented Vallon's fate. With Vallon's death, the thread symbolizing his life had ceased to exist.

The hundreds of Threads of Fate intertwined before splitting into two groups. With a swift motion, they poured into the marble ground of the plaza like liquid mercury.

Moments later, a series of dull thuds echoed as two familiar-looking stone tablets rose from the spots where the threads had disappeared.

William stepped closer but found the surfaces of the tablets blank, devoid of any task-related content. Moreover, the paths behind the tablets had not yet formed, remaining as dark voids capable of swallowing everything.

"So, this is how the Threads of Fate work now?" William murmured to himself, running his fingers over one of the tablets.

The saying "more friends, more paths" seemed to hold true here. This mysterious space had demonstrated the concept in practice; the Threads of Fate, representing vibrant lives, were evidently components of the paths of fate.

What remained unclear was what additional elements were needed for the paths and corresponding tasks to manifest.

As William pondered, he suddenly noticed a golden thread emerging from above his statue. Unlike the others, this unique Thread of Fate did not transform into a stone tablet. Instead, it drifted toward a stone table in a corner of the plaza.

Previously, William's attention had been entirely drawn to his statue and the newly appeared tablets. Only now did he notice the stone table tucked away in the corner. He approached it and bent down to examine it.

The table stood at waist height and was roughly the size of a ping-pong table. The golden Thread of Fate, representing Gin, had landed on the table and transformed into a small figurine about the length of a finger, complete with a base.

Intrigued, William picked it up. The figurine was a perfect miniature of Gin, rendered entirely in gold. Even his perpetually surly expression was captured with uncanny accuracy, as though the real Gin had been shrunk down and transformed.

The surface of the stone table was engraved with numerous inscriptions, including terms like [Robust] and [Heroic Aura]—rewards William had previously passed up on various paths.

These engraved special feats were neatly arranged across the table, each accompanied by a blank space and a small groove. The grooves looked oddly familiar to William. Upon closer inspection of the figurine in his hand, he realized the base's outline matched the grooves on the table.

After a moment of hesitation, William placed Gin's figurine into the groove next to [Robust]. As soon as he did, the base of the figurine fused seamlessly with the groove, as if welded in place, refusing to budge no matter how hard he tried to remove it.

At the same time, apart from the [Robust] feat where William had placed the figurine, the blank spaces next to all the other feats suddenly sprouted grooves, as if by magic.

Frowning, William ran back to his statue. The stone pedestal beneath the statue, as before, displayed his information:

《One Piece：The True Codex》Morgan William
[Young Godfather] (From the East Blue)
[Sword Prodigy] (From Isshin Dojo)
[Young Hero] (From the Docks)
Sea Calendar Year 1490 – ???
Birthplace: East Blue - Faraise Kingdom

Skills and Feats:

• Basic Swordsmanship
• Beginner Navigation

Special Feats:

• Lightning Reflexes
• Zen Sword Arts
• Robust

Achievement Feats:

• Gekokujō
• Sudden Enlightenment

Background Feats:

• Apprentice of Isshin Dojo

Sure enough, the [Robust] feat had been added to the list of special feats.

(Note: These chapters have been slightly revised based on feedback. To avoid disrupting the sequence of the directory, the word count has been slightly reduced. This is an exception, not the norm, and is due to special circumstances.)

Chapter 41

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 41: Zen Sword Arts

William's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't expected the changes in the Plaza of Fate to allow the exchange of special feats through unique Threads of Fate.

However, considering the additional grooves that appeared after redeeming [Robust], it seemed likely that the number of unique Threads of Fate required for future exchanges would only increase.

With these thoughts in mind, William turned his attention to the descriptions of the newly acquired feats.

Under Skill Feats, his former [Beginner Swordsmanship] had now advanced to [Basic Swordsmanship].

[Basic Swordsmanship]: You are a practitioner of swordsmanship. Your understanding of sword techniques has approached a state of Integrated Mastery. In this field, you have entered the hall of mastery. (On your home world, Earth, you would undoubtedly be considered a Sword Saint.)

Meanwhile, [Beginner Navigation] reflected the fruits of William's studies over the past few years.

[Beginner Navigation]: You now know how to observe weather conditions and can use basic tools such as compasses and astrolabes. The sea is no longer a vast, impenetrable darkness to you.

Under Special Feats, in addition to [Lightning Reflexes], he had now acquired [Zen Sword Arts] and [Robust].

[Zen Sword Arts]: Your swordsmanship now embodies the principles of Zen. When wielding a sword, you can easily eliminate distractions, focus your mind, and fully unleash your sword skills. (Task reward.)

[Robust]: You possess an enviable physique, granting you exceptional strength, stamina, and recovery capabilities, as well as superior immunity to diseases. (Reward from unique Threads of Fate exchange.)

Under Achievement Feats, alongside [Gekokujō], he had gained [Sudden Enlightenment], thanks to Koushirou's sword dance demonstration.

[Sudden Enlightenment]: Through the guidance of a master swordsman, your understanding of sword principles has deepened significantly. Your perspective on swordsmanship has expanded, making future learning of sword techniques significantly more efficient. (Reward from Koushirou's guidance.)

The next day, in Maple Leaf Village.

William, Gin, Aramis, Edmond, and Tony gathered on the second floor of Tony's tavern.

The group sat around a table, upon which rested a Den Den Mushi (Transponder Snail).

This peculiar creature, resembling a snail, was far larger than any snail William had seen in his previous life—about the size of a human palm. While William was not overly familiar with the storyline of this world, he had long accepted its fantastical nature and thus found the existence of such creatures unsurprising.

Although the Den Den Mushi resembled a snail on the outside, it was far more intelligent. One side of its round shell featured a set of numbered buttons, resembling those on a rotary phone. Its functionality was nearly identical to that of a telephone.

At the moment, the Den Den Mushi was connected to Sherlock, who was far away in another location.

"Put a halt to the smuggling operations for now," William said decisively. "With the current situation in the Navia Kingdom, we can no longer gain access. There's no point wasting manpower and resources."

"The workshops here in Maple Leaf Village must not cease operations," he continued. "Nor can we suddenly dismiss the workers. If we do, morale will collapse, and it'll be much harder to rally them again. Transition the operations for now—focus on producing low-cost liquor for legitimate sales."

"Legitimate business isn't that easy," Tony sighed. "We'll end up losing money."

"We've made enough over the past year to afford some losses for the time being. Once we've dealt with the major issues at hand, we'll figure out a way forward."

In truth, these workers—whom William relied on for his operations—were also the providers of resilient Threads of Fate.

The Den Den Mushi on the table, which William had named "Watson," spoke up at this moment. "I can't be of much help on my end for now, either."

Mimicking Sherlock's tone, Watson let out a wry laugh. "Previously, I used my connections with the Flash Gold Guild to coordinate a fleet, which led to misunderstandings. Some people now think our operations are tied to the guild. I need to sever those ties and find a way to get my father out of prison. I won't be able to gather more information for you for the time being."

"Focus on resolving your own issues first," William said gravely. "The priority is ensuring your father's safety. If you need anything, just say the word. As for the 'Red-Beard' situation, we'll handle it ourselves."

(Note: In Chapter 12, it was mentioned that William's birthplace is the Faraise Kingdom. This has been corrected.)

Chapter 42

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 42: News of the Devil Fruit

A drunken Ward staggered out of the tavern with his companions, eventually wandering alone into an alley to relieve himself.

Pirates, naturally, had little regard for public decency. He casually unfastened his trousers, humming a tune as he swayed left and right, carelessly spraying against the wall.

At the mouth of the alley, a shadowy figure seemed to be peering in, but the darkness obscured their features. Catching sight of the figure from the corner of his eye, Ward turned his head and shouted angrily, "Get lost!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he heard the sound of something slicing through the air behind him. Before he could react, everything went black.

When Ward regained consciousness, he found himself bound to a chair, his hands and feet tightly secured with sturdy leather straps.

He blinked groggily, his vision slowly adjusting to his surroundings. The peeling, mottled walls of the room suggested it had been abandoned for years. Two oil lamps hung opposite him, casting dim, flickering light.

Four men stood a short distance away, their faces obscured by the backlight. Ward couldn't make out their features clearly.

His head throbbed, especially the back of his skull, which ached faintly. He struggled lightly against his restraints, but the leather straps held firm, binding his limbs to the armrests and legs of the chair.

"Who are you?" Ward growled, twisting his body and causing the chair to rock noisily. "Do you have any idea who you're messing with?"

"Oh? And who might that be?" The tallest man in the middle asked with apparent interest.

"I'm a pirate under 'Red-Beard' Barbarossa!" Ward snarled through gritted teeth.

The tall man stepped closer, and as he approached, Ward realized he was just a young man—likely not even twenty years old. With golden hair, sharp eyebrows, and striking blue eyes, the youth exuded a certain charisma. He stared at Ward for a moment before suddenly chuckling.

"You think I'm lying?" Ward snapped, his face twisted with defiance as he locked eyes with the young man's piercing blue gaze. "I don't care who you are. If you don't want to die a miserable death, you'd better let me go right now!"

"No," the golden-haired youth said softly, lightly patting Ward's cheek with a series of crisp slaps. Ignoring Ward's growing fury, he continued, "I'm laughing because I caught the right person."

"You bastards are courting death—" Ward began to roar, but before he could finish, another young man with fiery red hair and a temper to match stormed forward. Without hesitation, he drove his boot into Ward's chest, toppling both the pirate and the chair to the ground.

The red-haired youth seemed ready to continue his assault, but the golden-haired man spoke without turning around, "Gin, hold him back."

The four young men were none other than William, Gin, Aramis, and Edmond.

Gin stepped forward and restrained the vengeful Edmond, speaking to him in a low, calming voice.

Meanwhile, William helped Ward back into an upright position, even brushing the dust off the back of his head where it had stuck to the floor.

"Sir," William began politely after a brief pause, "I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name. What should I call you?"

Ward sneered, turning his head away in defiance, refusing to answer.

William chuckled. "A tough guy, huh? Impressive."

He glanced at Aramis and the now-calmed Edmond, tilting his head slightly. The two immediately understood, stepping forward to lift both Ward and the chair he was bound to, placing them horizontally on a large wooden table in the center of the room.

The table, clearly a defective piece of furniture, had one leg shorter than the others, causing it to tilt slightly. Ward was left lying head-down, feet-up on the uneven surface. Despite the faint fear gnawing at him, he forced himself to maintain a facade of disdain as he glared at his captors.

"You look like an experienced pirate. You must be a strong swimmer," William said, pulling a piece of cloth from his coat and shaking it out in front of Ward. "So, I'd like to invite you to play a little water game."

William draped the cloth over Ward's face. At some point, Gin had retrieved a water jug, which he now began to pour slowly over the cloth.

The cold water startled Ward at first, but realizing it was just water, he relaxed slightly.

However, Edmond reached out to hold Ward's head in place, and it wasn't long before Ward began to thrash violently.

Edmond's expression twisted with rage as he pinned Ward's head down. Meanwhile, William calmly pulled another cloth from his coat and placed it over Ward's face. Gin continued to pour water over the cloth, focusing on Ward's mouth.

This form of torture was, of course, something William had devised.

In William's previous life, "waterboarding" had been a method of torture that originated in the Middle Ages and persisted well into modern times. From the Spanish Inquisition's trials of heretics to the CIA's interrogations of terrorists, it had stood the test of time, capable of making its victims feel the genuine agony of drowning.

After a calculated amount of time, William removed the cloth, and Gin ceased pouring.

As soon as the cloth was lifted, Ward gasped for air, his eyes wide with panic. Water remaining in his nasal passages caused him to cough violently, further compounding his discomfort.

The once-defiant Ward now appeared utterly broken. When Edmond released him, his head lolled to the side, and he panted heavily, struggling to recover.

"Ready to talk now?" William asked.

"W-What? Talk about what?" Ward stammered, his face pale, as though he was finally willing to cooperate.

"Wrong answer."

Ignoring Ward's protests, William replaced the cloth and signaled Gin, who lifted a fresh water jug and resumed pouring.

After a shorter interval, William removed the cloth again.

"W-Ward. My name is Ward," the pirate blurted out as soon as the cloth was removed, desperate for fresh air.

"Good," William said with a satisfied nod. "How long have you been aboard the Red-Beard Pirates' ship?"

"Seven months."

"Do the Red-Beard Pirates have any connections with the Navia Kingdom, the World Government, or the Marines?"

"I-I don't know," Ward hesitated before answering.

William raised an eyebrow, prompting Ward to cry out in panic, "I really don't know! I'm not lying!"

Ignoring his pleas, William replaced the cloth once more, though this time the interval was shorter before he removed it again.

"Let me rephrase. Do you know if the Red-Beard Pirates have any connections with officials from the Navia Kingdom or the World Government?"

Faced with the threat of death, Ward's mind raced. "We often dock at a private port near Kalmar City. Sometimes we go into the city to rest, and the guards never stop or question us. Also, there's a young man on board named Kuro—"

William cut him off abruptly. "Tell me about your captain. How strong is he? Where is he from?"

"What? I—" Ward's train of thought was derailed by the sudden shift in questioning, leaving him flustered and incoherent. "I don't really know."

Fearing another round of torture, he blurted out the first piece of information that came to mind: "I only know that he ate a Devil Fruit..."

The moment the words "Devil Fruit" left Ward's lips, the room fell silent. William's face betrayed his surprise, and even Aramis, Gin, and Edmond exchanged startled glances.

Chapter 43

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 43: Media Friends

William's understanding of the original story was not particularly detailed, but he did know about Devil Fruits. He had even gone out of his way to gather information about them, only to be left disappointed by what he learned.

These rare fruits, capable of granting their consumers strange and unique powers, were exorbitantly expensive. A single fruit could fetch a price of 100 million Belly, and even then, they were virtually impossible to find—something one could only hope to encounter by sheer luck.

In the East Blue, Devil Fruits were even rarer. Many people in the region, including those close to William like Aramis and others, regarded them as mere legends, nothing more than fanciful tales. Some had never even heard of them—a sentiment shared by a significant portion of the population.

Given this context, it was no surprise that the four men's expressions shifted upon hearing the mention of a Devil Fruit. Among them, only William, being a transmigrator, knew for certain that Devil Fruits truly existed. For Gin, Aramis, and Edmond—all born and raised in the East Blue—it was a shocking revelation. They had never seen such a fruit or encountered anyone who had consumed one, always dismissing them as myths. Yet now, they found themselves faced with the reality of a Devil Fruit user in their midst.

With his knowledge of Devil Fruits and his understanding of the East Blue's environment, two questions immediately surfaced in William's mind:

First, what was "Red-Beard" Barbarossa's Devil Fruit ability? Second, where did he obtain his Devil Fruit?

The second question, in particular, piqued William's interest.

William held no reservations about Devil Fruits. Perhaps individuals like Kuina, Koushirou, or Edmond, who aspired to be master swordsmen, would hesitate or struggle with the idea. But William was a pragmatist through and through.

Even with the assistance of the Plaza of Fate, William remained cautious and unwilling to become overly reliant on it. He didn't understand its origins or nature and feared it might one day vanish without warning. In contrast, his swordsmanship and the loyalty of companions like Gin were assets that would remain effective even without the Plaza of Fate.

The existence of Devil Fruits, unlike the Plaza of Fate, was something tangible and firmly rooted in this world. At the very least, they couldn't be easily taken away.

"Where did Barbarossa get his Devil Fruit?" William asked, lowering his gaze.

"I don't know!" Ward replied, trembling with fear. William's ruthless use of waterboarding had already broken him, leaving him too terrified to withhold information. He spilled everything he knew as if it were beans in a pot. "All I know is that the captain suffered a crushing defeat once. Only the first mate, Reis, and the navigator, Hayreddin, survived. It was during that defeat that he ate the Devil Fruit. So, aside from Reis and Hayreddin, no one else on the ship knows where the captain's Devil Fruit came from."

William furrowed his brow slightly. He could tell Ward wasn't lying, so he shifted his line of questioning. "That cargo ship you recently raided in the Navia Kingdom—do you know who ordered you to target it?"

"Which one?" Ward asked, looking confused.

William pressed further and soon learned that, as one of the top pirate crews in the East Blue, the Red-Beard Pirates had a busy "business" schedule, frequently raiding cargo ships along various routes.

Moreover, Ward revealed that an unknown faction often provided the Red-Beard Pirates with detailed intelligence on merchant ships. These reports were so precise that they included the exact times each ship left and entered port. This allowed the Red-Beard Pirates to intercept their targets with near-perfect timing, rarely returning empty-handed.

The ship carrying Edmond and Vallon, which had been attacked by the Red-Beard Pirates, was no different from the other merchant ships they typically plundered. The pirates had received information from an external source, Barbarossa had given the order, and Ward and his crew had carried it out.

It wasn't until William mentioned the prolonged storm that Ward recalled which specific ship he was referring to.

Once William had extracted all the information he needed, he, Gin, and Aramis left the room, leaving Edmond alone with Ward.

The three closed the door behind them. Moments later, blood began to seep out from under the door, pooling into the hallway where the three stood. Edmond emerged from the room shortly after, his expression betraying a sense of grim satisfaction.

William glanced at Edmond, who seemed to have finally calmed down, then shook his head and looked down at the newspaper in his hands.

The group was currently in an abandoned workshop on the outskirts of town. Dim oil lamps lined the hallway, casting a faint, flickering light. William read the newspaper under the weak glow for a while before snorting in amusement. "What a load of garbage!"

Gin, Aramis, and Edmond leaned in to take a look, their expressions turning equally strange as they stole glances at William's face.

The newspaper had been taken from Ward. After some prompting, Ward had managed to recall every suspicious detail about the attack on Vallon and Edmond's cargo ship. Among these details was the fact that, after the raid, the ship's crew had been handed copies of this newspaper by one of the officers, who instructed them to pay attention to the article's "main culprit."

The newspaper, titled East Blue Daily, featured an "exclusive report" on the so-called "Boy Godfather" who allegedly controlled the underground smuggling operations in the Navia Kingdom.

Just reading the headline was enough for William to know the paper was spouting nonsense. He was already an adult and far from a "boy."

Sure enough, the article confirmed William's suspicions. It included a description of his appearance, but aside from the details about his blonde hair and blue eyes, everything else was pure fabrication. It was clear the writers had invented most of it to fit their readers' romanticized image of the "Boy Godfather."

William flipped through the paper before tossing it to Gin, muttering, "What a load of trash! It's all made up!"

"It says here that you have a scar running diagonally from your brow to your jaw," Gin said, burying his head in the article. His expression grew increasingly animated as he read. "'Whenever he gets angry, the scar looks like it's about to bleed.' Who the hell are they talking about? Is there another smuggling ring out there? Maybe they're describing someone else?"

The group took turns reading the article, which read more like a novel than a news report.

Because his activities were illegal, William had always been cautious, following habits from his previous life. There were no photographs of him in circulation, and anyone wanting to describe his appearance would have to rely on eyewitness accounts or sketches based on second-hand descriptions.

East Blue Daily was not concerned with journalistic integrity or factual accuracy. Their goal was not to uphold the ethics of media professionals but to boost sales. The title "Boy Godfather" was eye-catching enough to draw readers, and whether or not William was actually a "boy" was of no concern to them. As such, any descriptions of William's appearance or behavior were crafted solely to captivate readers and pander to their imaginations.

If the newspaper had bothered to send reporters to the docks in the Navia Kingdom to interview the local laborers, they might not have gotten a precise description of William, but at least their portrayal wouldn't have been so wildly inaccurate. Clearly, however, they had no interest in doing so.

"Maybe I should thank these media friends of ours," William said with a chuckle.

"Or maybe you should thank those bastards for not taking us seriously," Aramis spat.

From what they had learned from Ward and observed so far, it was clear to William and his companions that neither "Red-Beard" Barbarossa nor the forces behind him regarded them as much of a threat.

Chapter 44

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 44: Infiltration

When Barbarossa attacked the cargo ship carrying Vallon and Edmond, he faced hardly any setbacks. Edmond fell into the sea while Vallon perished, demonstrating that underestimating William's crew was somewhat predictable. After all, Barbarossa couldn't have foreseen that William was a transmigrator and thus worthy of special attention.

The vast ocean, even in the East Blue—the weakest of the pirate seas—is home to hundreds of pirate factions. The Red-Beard Pirates have dominated these waters for years, accumulating countless enemies, both large and small, along the way. Barbarossa couldn't possibly keep track of them all.

Now, it seemed William and his crew were among those Barbarossa deemed unworthy of concern.

This was advantageous for William, as he planned to assume a new identity and infiltrate the Red-Beard Pirates to gather intelligence on their operations.

Upon hearing William's plan, Gin immediately objected, "It's too dangerous. You heard what that pirate Ward said—Barbarossa's abilities counter our sword techniques."

According to Ward, "Red-Beard" Barbarossa possessed the Devil Fruit known as the "Wool-Wool Fruit," allowing him to control the growth of his body hair at will and alter its texture. He could harden his hair to be as tough as steel when needed, which is how Vallon was easily defeated. Had Barbarossa wielded a different ability, Vallon might not have been vanquished so effortlessly, even if he wasn't victorious.

Aramis and Edmond nodded in agreement with Gin.

Despite the collaboration with a partner in the Navia Kingdom, Barbarossa and his Red-Beard Pirates refrained from plundering villages and docks in the kingdom. Instead, they targeted rival merchant ships identified by their collaborator. William's smuggling operations were rooted in Navia, making encounters with dock workers familiar with him unlikely, but not impossible.

"We need to uncover the person aiding Barbarossa behind the scenes. This individual must wield considerable influence in the Navia Kingdom, not only providing Barbarossa with ship and dock information but also commanding capital officials to apprehend the head of a local trading company," William said, lighting a cigarette. He patiently explained his reasoning to the concerned group, "And don't forget, Edmond encountered Marines during his return to Maple Village. It's likely there's more than one person behind Barbarossa, including Marines. We must find out who they are; otherwise, even if we dismantle the Red-Beard Pirates, it won't matter."

"Damn those seagulls," Aramis cursed.

The Marines and kingdom forces posed a greater threat than the Red-Beard Pirates. These official powers were more daunting and intimidating to William and his crew.

A pirate crew like the Red-Beard Pirates was an independent force. Barbarossa might be far stronger than William, but the key difference between humans and beasts is intelligence. Lions and tigers are ten times stronger and fiercer than humans, yet they end up caged and gawked at.

If William's sole objective was to kill Barbarossa, he had numerous tactics and strategies at his disposal. Once Barbarossa was dead, the Red-Beard Pirates—a group held together by personal charisma and prestige—would likely crumble.

Official forces like the Marines were different. Even if a local Marine officer was less competent than Barbarossa, they were still part of the Marine organization. Killing a major might attract a colonel, and driving away a colonel might bring a vice admiral. Local Marines were relatively independent, but they still represented the Marines, and kingdom forces represented the World Government.

William feared not the incompetent local Marine officers but the authority of the Marines and the World Government.

After explaining this reasoning to the group, Edmond spoke up, "In that case, let me go!"

"Barbarossa may underestimate us, but he's not blind. How would you blend into the crew?" William raised an eyebrow. "Plenty of people on that ship have seen you. You'd be walking into a death trap."

Gin, seeing this, wanted to suggest himself for the task. However, William seemed to anticipate his thoughts and spoke before Gin could, "This task must be done by me."

William wasn't confident in Aramis or Edmond handling the mission. Gin was steady but lacked experience and adaptability. Once aboard the Red-Beard Pirates' ship, anything could happen. William wouldn't have the opportunity to guide Gin through unexpected situations; Gin would have to rely on his own judgment, which he wasn't equipped for.

"This mission isn't just about boarding the Red-Beard Pirates' ship. We need to gather information on Barbarossa's collaborators and the Devil Fruit details I'm keen on," William concluded. "You all can support me from the ground."

William knew undertaking this mission involved risk, but if he couldn't bear any risk, why venture out to sea?

After further refining their plans, William instructed Aramis and Edmond to leave, keeping Gin with him.

Before Edmond exited the hallway, he glanced back to see William discussing something with Gin, who nodded solemnly.

...

William's assumptions weren't entirely accurate. Their lack of recognition wasn't solely because Barbarossa and his crew underestimated their strength and thus neglected to gather detailed intelligence.

The true reason was that the instigator of the attack, Count Arcadio, had targeted the Flash Gold Guild from the start. More precisely, he aimed at the mature local trade network behind the guild.

Holding significant power, Count Arcadio had no interest or energy to spend time building a similar network. He chose to use his influence to seize it. The attack on Edmond and Vallon was merely a means to intimidate the guild, mistakenly believing the smuggling operations were led by the Flash Gold Guild.

In a bustling town within the Navia Kingdom, Sherlock emerged from the Flash Gold Guild headquarters, looking troubled. He glanced back at the building his father had commissioned—a landmark of the town—where several figures stood by the window, pointing and whispering about him.

Sherlock sighed, boarding his family's carriage. If William or Gin were present, they would be surprised.

Sherlock, despite his wealthy background, was not one to conform. He was unconcerned with appearances, someone who could roll up his sleeves and drink with local gang leaders like Tony at a tavern.

But now, he donned silver-rimmed glasses, his hair meticulously groomed and slicked back, wearing a suit without a single crease, made from high-quality fabric.

William and his crew were unaware, but the locals knew that Sherlock now dressed almost identically to his father.

Not only did William need to stabilize morale, but Sherlock did too.

Chapter 45

Chapter 45: A Night Escape (Part 1)

《One Piece：The True Codex》Sherlock's father, Sassarian, was not only the president of the Flash Gold Guild but also the head of their family business. While the guild could elect a new leader if something happened to Sassarian, losing the backbone of the family enterprise could spell disaster.

Sherlock understood that ever since Sassarian had been abruptly taken away, most of the people under their family business had been on edge. What they needed now was not an unconventional heir, but a steady leader who could instill confidence and assure them that the successor could stabilize the situation.

Thus, Sherlock adopted this new appearance, one that bore a striking resemblance to Sassarian. Although he had always despised this look, he now donned it without hesitation.

The Minister of Finance, often referred to as the Chancellor of the Exchequer, was one of the most powerful officials in the Navia Kingdom. For someone of his stature to target a local guild, no group of merchants could hope to resist.

To subdue the members of the Flash Gold Guild, Arcadio first orchestrated attacks on guild-affiliated merchant ships using the Red-Beard Pirates. He then colluded with Marine Captain Roy to create obstacles for the guild's exports. Furthermore, he replaced the key officials in the region where the guild's headquarters was located with his own loyalists.

To further intimidate the guild members, Arcadio chose a prominent target to make an example of.

That target was Sherlock's family business. As a result, Sherlock had been unable to rescue his father, Sassarian, despite his efforts. The family business was in decline, constantly harassed by local officials, while the guild members were too afraid to lend a hand, fearing the wrath of Arcadio, who held near-absolute power within the kingdom.

Perhaps deep down, Sherlock's imitation of his father was also an attempt to garner external sympathy, though his pride prevented him from admitting it.

Nighttime, in the mansion.

After dealing with another round of investigations by local officials, Sherlock lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. His mind was heavy with worry—concern for his father Sassarian's safety and fear that the family business, built over generations, might collapse in his hands.

It was only now, in this dire situation, that Sherlock truly understood how difficult it had been for his father to maintain a low profile in public. In recent days, Sherlock had lost count of how many times he had bowed and scraped before various officials who came up with all sorts of excuses to nitpick. The experience was nothing short of humiliating.

For a brief moment, he resented William for suggesting the smuggling business, which had implicated his family. But Sherlock was no fool who only blamed others. He knew the smuggling operation had been his own decision, and he had no one else to blame.

After what felt like an eternity of sleeplessness, Sherlock finally let out a resigned sigh, sat up from his bed, and decided to check the account books in the study.

Most of the servants in the mansion were already asleep. Sherlock moved quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone, and made his way to the study. The room was filled with traces of his father, Sassarian. In the moonlight streaming through the window, Sherlock could almost see Sassarian sitting as he always did—leaning back in his chair, sipping wine while poring over the account books.

Sherlock's eyes stung with emotion. The household was already on edge, and he didn't want the servants to see him lose composure. He rubbed his eyes, picked up a bottle of red wine and a glass, and opened a hidden door disguised as a bookshelf, stepping into a narrow, cramped secret room.

This secret room had been built on Sassarian's orders, designed to store important account books and valuable items. The room contained only a single set of table and chairs, along with several safes.

Sherlock lit a candle in the secret room, closed the hidden door behind him, and retrieved an account book from one of the safes. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows across his face, but Sherlock paid it no mind, calmly sipping wine as he reviewed the accounts.

It was unclear how much time had passed when Sherlock suddenly heard faint noises outside the door. His brows furrowed slightly in annoyance. Assuming it was a bold servant with ill intentions, sneaking into the study to steal, he moved closer to the door and listened carefully.

To his shock, the voices he heard belonged to a man and a woman—voices he found disturbingly familiar. It was his stepmother and the local tax officer.

Sherlock's biological mother had passed away several years ago, and Sassarian had remarried a young and beautiful woman two years later. This had been a major source of tension between father and son.

The two in the study were speaking in hushed tones, likely to avoid being overheard. However, their position near the hidden door made their conversation clearly audible to Sherlock, who was pressed against the door.

The tax officer's raspy voice carried through the hidden door: "Count Arcadio is a man of great stature. He won't tolerate anyone who might pose a threat to his safety. That Sherlock—he's not entirely useless. We need to deal with him quickly. If he gets desperate, he could become a problem. Even if he can't directly harm the Count, it would still be my failure, and the repercussions wouldn't look good."

A lazy female voice replied, "Sherlock is focused on maintaining the family business right now. He probably won't act recklessly."

The tax officer responded, "Better safe than sorry. Besides, whether he would act recklessly or not isn't the point. As long as the Count believes he might, that's enough. If I take care of him, it will leave a good impression on the Count. And if we don't get rid of him, how can you legitimately inherit the family estate? I've received word that Sassarian is already dead. Once Sherlock is out of the picture, you'll be the sole heir."

The tax officer's tone grew more suggestive as he continued.

The woman's lazy voice turned into a soft laugh. "You're so good to me. How could I ever repay you?"

The two exchanged flirtatious remarks, followed by the telltale rustling of clothes being removed. The tax officer's breathing grew heavier as he said, "When this is over, suitors for a beautiful widow like you will line up for miles. Just don't forget about me."

The stepmother let out a gentle "Mmm" and fell silent.

Behind the door, Sherlock clenched his jaw, his face twisted in rage. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was on the verge of bursting through the door to expose the treacherous pair's plot.

But his remaining rationality held him back. Sherlock walked to the desk, downed the wine in his glass in one gulp, and opened one of the safes. Inside were two pistols.

The pistols had ivory grips engraved with intricate patterns, resembling works of art more than weapons. Indeed, they were collectibles Sassarian had purchased, but Sherlock knew they were fully functional and capable of killing.

As time passed, the candlelight in the secret room began to dim. The darkness, once driven away by the light, crept back in, gradually enveloping most of Sherlock's figure in shadow.

In the dim and flickering secret room, Sherlock loaded the antique pistols with bullets and gunpowder, sitting silently in the chair as he prepared for what was to come.

Chapter 46

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 46: A Night Escape (Part 2)

In the study, the adulterous couple had already begun their intimate entanglement. Sherlock's face was flushed red, likely from the alcohol, but his expression was eerily calm.

It wasn't until both pistols were fully loaded that Sherlock kicked open the hidden door of the secret room. The sudden noise startled the two lovers.

As Sherlock stepped into the study, his eyes immediately fell on the pair sprawled across the desk where Sassarian often worked. The man on top turned his head at the commotion, only to meet Sherlock's blazing, furious gaze.

Compared to the aging and portly Sassarian, the tax officer was indeed much younger and more handsome. It was no wonder Sherlock's stepmother would conspire with him. But this sight only fueled Sherlock's rage further.

Bang!

Without a word, Sherlock fired. Though he was no sharpshooter, he had some experience with firearms. At such close range, even poor aim wouldn't miss.

The lead bullet embedded itself in the tax officer's chest. While it didn't kill him instantly, the soft nature of the lead caused it to tumble and fragment within his body, creating a devastating cavity effect that inflicted even greater damage.

The tax officer collapsed to the ground like a heap of mud, wailing in agony. Sherlock's stepmother screamed, but when she saw Sherlock raise the second pistol toward her, her voice abruptly cut off, as if someone had seized her throat.

She was undoubtedly a beautiful woman—after all, only someone of exceptional appearance could have married a local business leader. Yet in Sherlock's eyes at this moment, she appeared utterly repugnant.

"Sherlock, you can't do this. If you kill someone, you'll be arrested," the woman pleaded, her voice trembling but still grasping at logic to persuade him. "If you're gone, the family business will truly be finished."

"Did my father ever wrong you?" Sherlock did not answer her directly but instead asked coldly. "I know you didn't truly love him. But if that's the case, you could have just left. You know what kind of man he was—he wouldn't have made things difficult for you. He would've given you enough compensation to live comfortably for the rest of your life. Wasn't that enough?"

Perhaps it was the looming threat of death, or perhaps a pang of guilt, but Sherlock's stepmother broke down in tears. "I was wrong, Sherlock. But you really can't kill me. If you're arrested, the Flash Gold Guild will be completely ruined."

Sherlock remained silent for a long time, and the woman's heart lifted slightly, thinking he might have softened.

"Did you two really think I was so determined to preserve the family business that I'd let you manipulate me at will?" Finally, Sherlock sighed and asked softly, "The bandits from last year—they were your doing, weren't they?"

The woman's face shot up in shock.

Bang!

Another gunshot echoed. This time, Sherlock took his time to aim, hitting his target with precision. The bullet struck her forehead, exiting through the back of her skull and taking a small piece of bone with it. Her lifeless body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, her face still frozen in disbelief.

Now, two corpses lay in pools of blood—the tax officer, who was gradually succumbing to his injuries, and Sherlock's stepmother, whose lifeless eyes stared blankly at nothing.

Sherlock stood motionless, still in his shooting stance, until a noise came from the study door. He immediately aimed his now-empty pistol in that direction.

The butler, who had rushed over after hearing the commotion, froze at the sight before him. His face turned pale as he stammered, "Y-young master!"

The sight of the two bodies on the floor and Sherlock holding a gun made the butler feel both terrified and estranged from the man he thought he knew.

"Tell all the servants in the villa to leave. Immediately!" Sherlock's voice was cold and devoid of emotion. "As of today, you are all dismissed. Go. If you don't leave now, you won't get another chance."

Having just witnessed Sherlock kill two people, the butler dared not argue. He managed a stiff bow before quickly retreating.

Once the butler was gone, Sherlock walked behind the desk and opened a drawer, retrieving a small box. Inside was an antique gold coin, its design intricate and steeped in history.

This coin had been purchased by Sherlock's great-grandfather from a sailor and held great sentimental value. The family business and the guild's name, "Flash Gold," were derived from it.

Sherlock tucked the box into his coat, then grabbed a bottle of strong liquor from the wine cabinet. He took several swigs, the liquid spilling from the corners of his mouth. He wiped his face with his sleeve before raising the bottle high.

Smash!

The expensive liquor shattered against the desk, its aroma filling the air. Sherlock didn't stop there. He grabbed several more bottles, smashing them open in the secret room. He then pulled out account books and other documents containing crucial information about the family business and the guild, tossing them onto the floor.

After completing these preparations, Sherlock struck a match. He hesitated for a moment before tossing it onto the alcohol-soaked papers.

There was no way he would let that damn Count easily acquire these assets and take control of the guild.

Flames roared as thick smoke billowed from the burning villa. The panicked servants fled in all directions.

Sherlock stood before the blazing inferno, watching as the fire consumed everything. Only now did his expression betray a deep pain.

Sherlock had always prided himself on his abilities, yet he never imagined that the legacy his family had painstakingly built over generations would crumble in his hands.

The growing fire soon attracted the attention of nearby residents. Sherlock wiped his eyes, took one last look at the villa, and turned to run toward the harbor.

He would return. He swore he would return.

For pirates, manpower was always a pressing issue.

The Marines, with their global reach, could recruit from all over the world. Whether they sought talent or cannon fodder, they were never short of personnel.

Pirates, on the other hand, were often compared to the Marines, but in reality, they were a disorganized and fragmented force. Unlike the centralized system of the Marines, pirate crews were often a motley collection of wanderers, drifters, and vagabonds, their quality varying widely. Most pirate crews were little more than bands of rootless scoundrels, lacking the stable recruitment pipelines of the Marines.

Yet pirates couldn't afford to neglect recruitment. Without the protection of a protagonist's plot armor, a single battle could leave a crew with significant casualties. Without fresh recruits, a pirate crew would grow weaker with each fight, ultimately facing annihilation.

This was why most pirate crews were filled with rogues, thugs, and drunkards—the dregs of society. When a crew docked, they would often recruit whoever was willing to join. In most places, such individuals made up the majority of volunteers.

William had seen this haphazard recruitment process firsthand during his time with Danton's pirate crew. He had always found it distasteful. Now, however, he appreciated this chaotic system.

It made infiltrating the Red-Beard Pirates all too easy.

Chapter 47

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 47: A Place Among Them

After gathering information from Ward about the small town where the Red-Beard Pirates frequently stopped to rest, William spent some time preparing before heading there alone. He checked into a local tavern, blending into its rough and chaotic atmosphere.

His appearance had undergone a significant transformation. His hair had grown long, and he now sported a scruffy beard. Gone were his meticulously clean and tidy clothes; his current attire was ragged and stained. The collar and cuffs of his shirt bore wine stains, and a small burn hole from a cigarette marred the hem. Even the katana he used to carry had been replaced by a curved cutlass, more commonly seen among pirates.

Perhaps due to his [Robust] trait or other reasons, William had grown taller recently, now standing just over 1.9 meters. With his altered appearance, it was difficult for anyone to associate him with his former self at a glance.

In this world, taverns often doubled as inns and were frequented by all sorts of people. They were melting pots of sailors, merchants, and wanderers, making them the best places to gather information. When William first arrived, the Red-Beard Pirates had yet to show up, but he quickly confirmed through the chatter of the patrons that Ward's intel was accurate. Thus, he patiently waited in the tavern for nearly two weeks.

One morning, as William woke in his room, he realized the Red-Beard Pirates had likely arrived in town.

The tavern's poor soundproofing meant it was always noisy, regardless of the time of day. The constant din of drunken revelry was a hallmark of the place. But today, the atmosphere was markedly different.

After a quick wash and change, William descended the stairs to the tavern's main floor, confirming his suspicions. Near the bar, a group of burly men exuding an air of menace was drinking.

At the center of attention sat a man nearly two meters tall, his massive, muscular frame straining against a shirt that looked more like a second skin. His immense build made the wooden barstool beneath him seem like a child's footstool. His face was broad and brutish, framed by a dense, needle-like red beard that encircled his jaw.

The bartender served this obvious leader with great care, mixing a drink and placing it before him. Despite his rough appearance, the man's drinking mannerisms were surprisingly refined. He nodded casually to the bartender, picked up the delicate glass—comically small in his massive hands—and sipped slowly, savoring the taste.

None of the other patrons dared to show any dissatisfaction at the man monopolizing the bar. The usual rowdy drunks who shouted and hollered had retreated to the corners, whispering among themselves. The tavern, once filled with raucous noise, had fallen into an uneasy silence. This stark change in atmosphere confirmed to William that the Red-Beard Pirates had indeed arrived.

William's instincts told him that the man at the bar was likely Reis, the first mate of the Red-Beard Pirates and their de facto second-in-command. According to Ward's description, Reis was not only "Red-Beard" Barbarossa's trusted right-hand man but also the brains of the operation. He managed the crew's daily affairs with a sharp mind that belied his brutish appearance, essentially serving as Barbarossa's steward.

Reis had brought five of his most trusted crew members with him. These seasoned pirates, veterans of countless battles, occupied two tables near the bar. Though they appeared relaxed, their seating arrangement was anything but casual. Each pirate's position allowed at least one companion to watch their back.

From the tavern's entrance, the pirates' tables were partially obscured by a support pillar, giving them a strategic vantage point. They could observe anyone entering the tavern, but newcomers would find it difficult to spot them immediately.

The pirates themselves were a motley crew of varying heights and builds, but all shared a common air of menace. Each carried visible weapons—curved cutlasses, hand axes, and even a couple of pistols—making no effort to conceal their armaments. The tavern owner, wearing a sycophantic smile, scurried about with his staff, catering to the pirates' every whim.

Despite their fearsome reputation, pirates were still human. They sought wealth and a better life, not desolation. Thus, they wouldn't necessarily pillage every town they visited. The small town where William now found himself was a regular stop for the Red-Beard Pirates. The tavern owner knew that while he might lose some money catering to them, avoiding conflict with the terrifying first mate would ensure his survival.

But pirates were, by nature, synonymous with trouble.

As the tension in the tavern simmered, the door burst open, and three burly men strode in. Their eyes swept across the room before they made their way toward the bar.

The tavern owner's face fell, but he dared not intervene. The newcomers, too, were rough-looking, each with a curved cutlass at their waist.

"You're the first mate of the Red-Beard Pirates, Reis?" one of the men said as they approached the bar. One of Reis's pirates, still seated, lazily stretched out a leg to block their path. The apparent leader of the trio ignored the gesture and addressed Reis directly.

Reis turned his head, his piercing gaze sweeping over the three men before he returned to his drink. He sipped leisurely and replied in a calm, indifferent tone, "What do you want?"

"We want to join your crew."

"If you want to join, go talk to our men at the harbor. Why come to me?"

The leader of the trio gritted his teeth. "Your men at the harbor said there's no room on the ship, so—"

"So you came to bother me, the first mate?" Reis drained his glass, smacked his lips as if savoring the taste, and slid the glass back to the bartender for a refill. "Every pirate dreams of wealth and survival. Everyone wants to join a strong crew. But the question is, why should we let you aboard?"

"My companions and I are skilled fighters! We've even killed before!"

Reis chuckled derisively. "Skilled fighters? Everyone who wants to join claims to be one. To me, only those who survive several naval battles are worth calling skilled. As for killing, every man on our ship has blood on their hands."

The leader's face flushed with embarrassment and anger. Reis continued, "Don't say I'm not giving you a chance. We recently lost a crew member, so there's an open spot. If you want it, prove who among you deserves it."

Standing behind the trio, William had approached unnoticed and overheard this exchange.

One of the men, annoyed by the earlier humiliation, turned his head at the sound of William's footsteps. He scowled and barked, "Get lost!"

But before he could turn back, he felt a sharp pain on his scalp. William had grabbed a fistful of his hair.

With his left hand yanking the man's head back, William kicked the back of his knee, forcing him into a kneeling position. As the man instinctively leaned back to regain balance, William twisted his head further, exposing his throat. His right hand, now free, clenched into a fist, with the knuckle of his index finger protruding. He struck the man's Adam's apple with a precise, brutal punch.

Chapter 48

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 48: Stolt

William's flurry of movements was completed in the blink of an eye. Before anyone could react, the burly man who had just been barking threats lay on the ground, clutching his throat, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his body limp and lifeless.

Hearing the commotion, the man's two companions turned around, only to see their comrade collapse. They immediately reached for their weapons, but against William, their actions were as futile as showing off a blade to a master swordsman. William grabbed the sheath of the man closest to him on his right, who had not yet fully drawn his sword. Before the blade could be unsheathed, William had already yanked the sheath free and struck it down hard on the man's wrist.

The force behind William's swing was immense. A sickening crack echoed through the air as the man's wrist bent at an unnatural angle. His curved sword fell from his grasp, and William caught it mid-air with a swift motion.

The leader of the trio had already swung his blade toward William. As William reached for the fallen weapon, he twisted his body to the side, allowing the attack to narrowly miss. Using the momentum of his turn, William raised the wooden sheath in his right hand at an angle to block the incoming strike while simultaneously reversing the blade in his left hand. As he spun, the edge of the curved sword sliced across the abdomen of its original owner.

Slash!

The leader's curved blade tore through the wooden sheath, carving off a sharp splinter at the tip. However, the deflected strike veered off course, missing William by a hair. In that fleeting moment, William completed his rotation, now face-to-face with the leader. He stepped forward and drove the jagged end of the broken sheath into the man's throat.

The leader dropped his weapon, his eyes wide with shock. Both hands clutched at the wound as he staggered backward, crashing into a nearby table occupied by one of the pirates. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

The sound of bodies hitting the floor echoed through the tavern.

As the leader toppled the table, William had already plunged the curved sword into the chest of the man writhing in agony from the abdominal wound. He left the blade embedded there, standing motionless as two lifeless bodies hit the ground almost simultaneously. Throughout the entire exchange, the curved sword at William's waist remained securely in its sheath.

In a matter of seconds, three corpses now lay on the ground. The previously relaxed pirates, who had been seated nonchalantly, were now on high alert. Two of them had drawn pistols, their barrels trained directly on William.

Reis had also turned to face the commotion at some point.

William grinned at him, baring his teeth as he raised his empty hands in a gesture of surrender. "Do I qualify for that open spot now?"

Reis glanced at the bodies on the floor, then back at William, whose face showed no hint of concern. After downing the rest of his drink, Reis gestured to his men. "Put your guns away."

The two pirates holstered their pistols, and the others lowered their weapons. Only then did Reis flash a smile at William. He motioned for the bartender to pour another drink and pointed to a high stool nearby. "Come, have a seat."

William walked over with an air of confidence and took the offered seat. By then, the bartender had poured another drink. Reis pushed the glass toward William and said, "You've got some skill. What's your name?"

"Stolt," William replied without missing a beat, giving a false name. He then feigned a brash demeanor and asked, "So, should I start calling you First Mate now?"

"Of course. I said there was an open spot on the crew, and the fact that you're sitting here drinking with me means that spot is yours," Reis said, clinking his glass against William's before downing his drink in one go.

William mimicked his enthusiasm, tilting his head back to drain his glass.

Reis's quick acceptance of William wasn't due to any naive sense of honor. Rather, it was because William's earlier actions—killing three men in rapid succession—served as a blood-stained initiation onto the pirate ship.

Most pirates weren't born warriors. Many were bankrupt fishermen, destitute sailors, or crew members who had been caught stealing and blacklisted, leaving them with no choice but to turn to piracy. These individuals lacked formal training, and their skills varied greatly.

In William's previous life, there was a saying: "In the Great Pirate Era, what matters most? Talent!"

In a world where individual strength could vary so drastically, talent became even more crucial. The Marines had structured training systems to discover and nurture talent, but pirates relied almost entirely on luck to find capable recruits who also wanted to join their crews.

The Red-Beard Pirates were notorious throughout the East Blue, but even they couldn't claim that every member of their crew was a skilled fighter. To Reis, William's display of strength already set him apart as one of the more capable individuals on the crew. That was why Reis had wasted no time in recruiting him.

Having lived among pirates during his time with Danton's crew, William understood their mindset and the rules of survival aboard a pirate ship. This knowledge guided his actions.

In the eyes of most pirates, strength was a currency even more valuable than Berry.

Reis casually probed for more information about William's background. Playing the role of "Stolt," William maintained a carefree, unsuspecting demeanor, all while staying vigilant.

"You know navigation?" Reis raised an eyebrow. "Someone like you, with decent skills and knowledge of navigation, could easily find work on a merchant ship. Why turn to piracy?"

William gestured toward the three bloodied corpses on the ground. "What kind of merchant ship would hire a murderer?"

Taking another swig of the strong liquor, William's face flushed as he stared toward the bartender, his voice filled with bitterness. "Our family's merchant ship was caught in a storm. Many died, including my mother. My father was gravely injured. When we stopped at an island to replenish our water supply, the crew mutinied, claiming the compensation my father offered was too little. They tricked me off the ship, looted the cargo, and killed my father."

William's expression grew terrifying, causing the bewildered bartender to retreat. Of course, what Reis and the others didn't realize was that the most frightening aspect of this scene was William's acting. "I was stranded on that island for days before a passing merchant ship rescued me. When I made it back to town, I tracked down the ringleader of the mutiny and killed him in revenge."

"Now I'm a murderer. My father had borrowed heavily for his business, and with everything lost, we're deep in debt. I can't repay it, and I don't want to. So, here I am, becoming a pirate."

This story was, of course, fabricated. William had borrowed it from a real incident Sherlock had once told him about, swapping the protagonist for himself.

The Academy owes me an Oscar! William thought, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Reis mistook this for an emotional reaction to the past and inwardly scoffed at his perceived weakness. Nevertheless, Reis patted him on the shoulder in a show of camaraderie.

"So, you figured you'd join our crew?"

"Of course. If I'm going to be a pirate, I might as well join the best crew in the East Blue," William replied, feigning arrogance.

Reis wasn't the type to be swayed by flattery, but he still found William's words pleasing. Grinning, he said, "Good. Very good. Stick with me. I'll personally take you aboard the ship later."

Chapter 49

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 49: The Misfit Kuro

After finishing their drinks, Reis led William and a group of his men out of the tavern in a swaggering procession. Naturally, the tavern owner didn't dare to approach them for payment.

The remaining patrons in the tavern watched the group leave with mixed expressions—some were relieved, others disgusted, and a few even envious.

In this turbulent Great Pirate Era, many people understood that not all pirates met a good end. The Marines and the World Government tirelessly hunted and publicly executed renowned pirates. Yet, this did little to deter the flow of people choosing the pirate's path. On the contrary, they came in droves, each dreaming of becoming a legend, basking in glory—even if only briefly, even if it was all for show.

William followed Reis to the docks, which had now become a pirate's playground. The usual dockworkers with their rough hands, the merchants barking orders, and the loud, boisterous sailors were nowhere to be seen. In their place was a mob of vicious pirates, drinking and chatting without restraint.

The ground was littered with smoldering cigarette butts, empty bottles, and scraps of food. The merchant ships that once docked here had long since fled, leaving behind some abandoned cargo. The pirates showed no hesitation as they ripped open the crates, pocketing anything valuable and tossing aside what they deemed worthless.

Chaos—that was William's first impression of the scene. However, having lived among the Danton Pirates, he was well-acquainted with the ways of pirates and wasn't surprised by their behavior.

What captured William's attention most was the pirate ship docked nearby. Standing below and looking up, the towering prow and stern deck of the ship exuded an oppressive aura. The cannons protruding from its sides gleamed under the sunlight, and a few gunners sat on the mooring posts not far away, loudly discussing how a single cannon shot could obliterate the town. Their animated gestures and excited expressions made it clear they were thoroughly enjoying the conversation.

Reis led William and his group through the chaos, walking up a wooden plank onto their ship. Along the way, some veteran pirates pointed and whispered about William's unfamiliar figure.

As soon as they boarded, a bespectacled young man stepped forward to block Reis's path.

"First Mate, you should do something about the situation at the docks," the young man said, adjusting his round-rimmed glasses with a hint of dissatisfaction. "I was trying to inventory the cargo left behind by the merchant ships, but the entire dock has devolved into chaos. I can't get anything done."

William glanced at the young man, intrigued. What piqued his interest was how out of place this individual looked compared to the rest of the pirates.

Unlike the Marines, pirates didn't have uniforms, so their attire varied greatly. However, most pirates shared one common trait: they were unkempt. This was a matter of survival. Freshwater was a precious resource at sea, and there wasn't enough to spare for personal hygiene.

Moreover, alcohol, which could be stored longer than water, was a staple on every ship. As a result, most pirates were heavy drinkers.

But this man—despite the faint traces of sweat stains on his cuffs and collar—was clearly making an effort to stay clean. He was even dressed in a formal suit, which was highly unusual for life aboard a pirate ship. Given the harsh conditions at sea and the frequent battles, most pirates wouldn't choose such impractical clothing. William, having lived on a pirate ship before, found himself taking a second look at the man.

Based on the intelligence provided by Ward, this must be the ship's quartermaster, Kuro, whose background was shrouded in mystery.

Reis frowned slightly at Kuro's mildly accusatory tone and asked, "Where's the captain?"

"The captain is taking a bath, and Mr. Hayreddin is discussing our next course of action with him," Kuro replied. He cast a brief glance at William, noting his unfamiliar face, but paid him no further attention and turned back to Reis.

Reis looked over at the docks, which were already in a state of complete disarray, and waved dismissively. "It's too late to stop them now. I'll go find the captain."

Kuro hesitated, wanting to say more. He had been handpicked by Arcadio Buendía from his trading company and placed aboard the pirate ship. Though he deeply resented this arrangement, Kuro was not yet the infamous pirate he would later become in the East Blue. At this point, he was merely a small-time operative with some skills and intellect, reliant on the trading company for his livelihood. He had no power to defy Arcadio's orders.

Kuro's primary responsibility was to inventory the crew's supplies and loot, and secretly, he also acted as a supervisor. After all, according to the agreement, a share of the pirates' spoils belonged to Arcadio.

Technically, the cargo at the docks was part of the spoils. Allowing the pirates to rummage through it and stash items for themselves made it impossible to account for everything.

Most people in Kuro's position might have turned a blind eye to avoid making enemies, especially since the goods weren't particularly valuable. But Kuro despised the pirate lifestyle and clung tightly to Arcadio's influence, hoping his diligence would earn him a chance to escape this "hell."

However, this attitude only made the pirates dislike him more. Reis, knowing Kuro's true identity and understanding that he wasn't loyal to the crew, kept him at arm's length, mixing disdain with a touch of indifference.

Without giving Kuro another chance to speak, Reis signaled for a few trusted subordinates to stay behind while he led William away at a brisk pace.

Before leaving, William gave Kuro a friendly smile, but Kuro responded with cold indifference, barely glancing at him before turning back to his work.

William wasn't bothered and followed Reis to the captain's quarters at the stern of the ship. Instead of barging in, Reis knocked gently on the door.

A sharp, almost shrill voice called out from inside, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Reis," the first mate replied, glancing at William. "I've brought a new recruit aboard. He's skilled, and I thought the captain should meet him."

"Wait a moment," came the reply from Hayreddin, the ship's navigator, his voice as sharp and grating as before.

After a moment, the sound of heavy objects being moved could be heard from behind the door. William's ears twitched slightly, noting the numerous locks being undone. He couldn't help but wonder why.

After some time, the thick wooden door finally creaked open, and William stepped inside with Reis. The first thing he saw was a grotesque, scarred man standing by the door.

Hayreddin. William recognized him instantly.

The navigator's face was half-ruined, and his twisted scars made him look even more menacing. Known for his violent and sadistic nature, Hayreddin was feared by everyone on the ship.

When Hayreddin noticed William looking at him, he grinned. In the dimly lit room, his lopsided smile, combined with his scarred face, exuded nothing but malice and terror.

According to Ward, Vallon had fallen into Hayreddin's hands. It was he who had severed Vallon's limbs and thrown him to the sharks.

A surge of killing intent rose within William, but he quickly masked it, feigning fear as he turned his head away.

Hayreddin, noticing William's reaction, grinned even wider, clearly enjoying the moment.

Chapter 50

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 49: The Misfit Kuro

After finishing their drinks, Reis led William and a group of his men out of the tavern in a swaggering procession. Naturally, the tavern owner didn't dare to approach them for payment.

The remaining patrons in the tavern watched the group leave with mixed expressions—some were relieved, others disgusted, and a few even envious.

In this turbulent Great Pirate Era, many people understood that not all pirates met a good end. The Marines and the World Government tirelessly hunted and publicly executed renowned pirates. Yet, this did little to deter the flow of people choosing the pirate's path. On the contrary, they came in droves, each dreaming of becoming a legend, basking in glory—even if only briefly, even if it was all for show.

William followed Reis to the docks, which had now become a pirate's playground. The usual dockworkers with their rough hands, the merchants barking orders, and the loud, boisterous sailors were nowhere to be seen. In their place was a mob of vicious pirates, drinking and chatting without restraint.

The ground was littered with smoldering cigarette butts, empty bottles, and scraps of food. The merchant ships that once docked here had long since fled, leaving behind some abandoned cargo. The pirates showed no hesitation as they ripped open the crates, pocketing anything valuable and tossing aside what they deemed worthless.

Chaos—that was William's first impression of the scene. However, having lived among the Danton Pirates, he was well-acquainted with the ways of pirates and wasn't surprised by their behavior.

What captured William's attention most was the pirate ship docked nearby. Standing below and looking up, the towering prow and stern deck of the ship exuded an oppressive aura. The cannons protruding from its sides gleamed under the sunlight, and a few gunners sat on the mooring posts not far away, loudly discussing how a single cannon shot could obliterate the town. Their animated gestures and excited expressions made it clear they were thoroughly enjoying the conversation.

Reis led William and his group through the chaos, walking up a wooden plank onto their ship. Along the way, some veteran pirates pointed and whispered about William's unfamiliar figure.

As soon as they boarded, a bespectacled young man stepped forward to block Reis's path.

"First Mate, you should do something about the situation at the docks," the young man said, adjusting his round-rimmed glasses with a hint of dissatisfaction. "I was trying to inventory the cargo left behind by the merchant ships, but the entire dock has devolved into chaos. I can't get anything done."

William glanced at the young man, intrigued. What piqued his interest was how out of place this individual looked compared to the rest of the pirates.

Unlike the Marines, pirates didn't have uniforms, so their attire varied greatly. However, most pirates shared one common trait: they were unkempt. This was a matter of survival. Freshwater was a precious resource at sea, and there wasn't enough to spare for personal hygiene.

Moreover, alcohol, which could be stored longer than water, was a staple on every ship. As a result, most pirates were heavy drinkers.

But this man—despite the faint traces of sweat stains on his cuffs and collar—was clearly making an effort to stay clean. He was even dressed in a formal suit, which was highly unusual for life aboard a pirate ship. Given the harsh conditions at sea and the frequent battles, most pirates wouldn't choose such impractical clothing. William, having lived on a pirate ship before, found himself taking a second look at the man.

Based on the intelligence provided by Ward, this must be the ship's quartermaster, Kuro, whose background was shrouded in mystery.

Reis frowned slightly at Kuro's mildly accusatory tone and asked, "Where's the captain?"

"The captain is taking a bath, and Mr. Hayreddin is discussing our next course of action with him," Kuro replied. He cast a brief glance at William, noting his unfamiliar face, but paid him no further attention and turned back to Reis.

Reis looked over at the docks, which were already in a state of complete disarray, and waved dismissively. "It's too late to stop them now. I'll go find the captain."

Kuro hesitated, wanting to say more. He had been handpicked by Arcadio Buendía from his trading company and placed aboard the pirate ship. Though he deeply resented this arrangement, Kuro was not yet the infamous pirate he would later become in the East Blue. At this point, he was merely a small-time operative with some skills and intellect, reliant on the trading company for his livelihood. He had no power to defy Arcadio's orders.

Kuro's primary responsibility was to inventory the crew's supplies and loot, and secretly, he also acted as a supervisor. After all, according to the agreement, a share of the pirates' spoils belonged to Arcadio.

Technically, the cargo at the docks was part of the spoils. Allowing the pirates to rummage through it and stash items for themselves made it impossible to account for everything.

Most people in Kuro's position might have turned a blind eye to avoid making enemies, especially since the goods weren't particularly valuable. But Kuro despised the pirate lifestyle and clung tightly to Arcadio's influence, hoping his diligence would earn him a chance to escape this "hell."

However, this attitude only made the pirates dislike him more. Reis, knowing Kuro's true identity and understanding that he wasn't loyal to the crew, kept him at arm's length, mixing disdain with a touch of indifference.

Without giving Kuro another chance to speak, Reis signaled for a few trusted subordinates to stay behind while he led William away at a brisk pace.

Before leaving, William gave Kuro a friendly smile, but Kuro responded with cold indifference, barely glancing at him before turning back to his work.

William wasn't bothered and followed Reis to the captain's quarters at the stern of the ship. Instead of barging in, Reis knocked gently on the door.

A sharp, almost shrill voice called out from inside, "Who is it?"

"It's me, Reis," the first mate replied, glancing at William. "I've brought a new recruit aboard. He's skilled, and I thought the captain should meet him."

"Wait a moment," came the reply from Hayreddin, the ship's navigator, his voice as sharp and grating as before.

After a moment, the sound of heavy objects being moved could be heard from behind the door. William's ears twitched slightly, noting the numerous locks being undone. He couldn't help but wonder why.

After some time, the thick wooden door finally creaked open, and William stepped inside with Reis. The first thing he saw was a grotesque, scarred man standing by the door.

Hayreddin. William recognized him instantly.

The navigator's face was half-ruined, and his twisted scars made him look even more menacing. Known for his violent and sadistic nature, Hayreddin was feared by everyone on the ship.

When Hayreddin noticed William looking at him, he grinned. In the dimly lit room, his lopsided smile, combined with his scarred face, exuded nothing but malice and terror.

According to Ward, Vallon had fallen into Hayreddin's hands. It was he who had severed Vallon's limbs and thrown him to the sharks.

A surge of killing intent rose within William, but he quickly masked it, feigning fear as he turned his head away.

Hayreddin, noticing William's reaction, grinned even wider, clearly enjoying the moment.

Chapter 51

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 51: The Outsider

When William woke up again, Kuro still hadn't returned to the cabin. William didn't mind and went to find the old pirate Hatcheson, who had shown him around the ship the day before. Together, they busied themselves with the daily tasks aboard the ship.

Life at sea was monotonous, and managing the sails was a heavy and tedious job. Sail adjustments were necessary to catch the ever-shifting winds, which required constant attention. Additionally, to prevent the outbreak of diseases, maintaining hygiene on the ship was essential. Cleaning the deck with seawater became a daily ritual.

While scrubbing the deck, William deliberately recounted his confrontation with Kuro in the cabin the previous night, speaking in a boastful tone to Hatcheson and the other nearby pirates.

The reactions of the old pirates confirmed just how unpopular Kuro was on the ship. When they heard William describe how Kuro had "fled in disgrace," they all burst into hearty laughter.

After laughing, Hatcheson rubbed his red, bulbous nose and pulled out a brass flask from his pocket. He took a swig of liquor before passing it to a nearby companion. Then, he kindly advised William, "You shouldn't be so reckless. You've just come aboard, and there's still a lot you don't understand about this ship."

The brass flask passed from pirate to pirate before finally reaching William. Without hesitation, he grabbed it, took a big gulp like the others, and wiped the liquor from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. With a carefree grin, he replied, "Don't worry. He's no match for me."

One of the old pirates chuckled and said, "Hatcheson isn't worried about you losing to him; he's worried that if you two clash, the captain might take his side."

Feigning confusion, William asked, "What? Is he one of the captain's trusted men?"

"More than that," another pirate sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "He's the captain's loyal dog. He watches everyone on the ship like a hawk, making sure every piece of loot is accounted for. It's like he's terrified someone might take what belongs to his master."

Another pirate chimed in, "I wouldn't say he's the captain's dog. He doesn't seem to have the same level of trust as the first mate or Mr. Hayreddin."

William blinked, processing the information. Clearly, not everyone on the ship was a fool. While Kuro's true nature was known only to the Red-Beard Brothers and a select few, some had speculated that Kuro might be a spy sent by another faction. However, they didn't know exactly who Kuro was working for.

Even so, this didn't change the pirates' attitude toward Kuro. It wasn't necessarily about his personality or behavior—it was purely about self-interest.

Every piece of loot a pirate claimed was often paid for with their own blood or that of their comrades. Pirates weren't the hot-blooded protagonists of a shonen manga, driven by lofty dreams and unrealistic ideals. Most pirates lived lives of violence and bloodshed, pursuing nothing more than wealth and treasure.

Their short-sightedness prevented them from understanding the importance of intelligence and logistical support. All they saw was someone taking a significant share of the spoils they had risked their lives to obtain, which they deemed unfair.

"Alright, enough talk," Hatcheson said, spotting Reis approaching from a distance. He quickly stashed the flask back in his pocket and urged William and the others to get back to work. Before resuming his tasks, he gave William one last piece of advice: "It doesn't matter whose dog he is; whoever's behind him isn't someone we can afford to provoke. So next time, don't be so impulsive, Stolt."

Meanwhile, in Maple Village, a modest merchant ship slowly docked at the pier. Sherlock, looking somewhat haggard, disembarked with a suitcase in hand. The bustling dock was teeming with people, yet the area around Edmond and Aramis, who were waiting for him, remained conspicuously empty.

As soon as Sherlock appeared, Edmond and Aramis approached him together.

Sherlock carried a leather suitcase. Noticing his weary appearance, Aramis offered to carry it for him, but Sherlock politely declined.

Aramis didn't insist and instead said, "I've already asked Tony to prepare a place for you to stay."

Sherlock nodded in acknowledgment, silently expressing his gratitude. It wasn't that he was being rude—he was simply too exhausted to speak.

After committing murder, Sherlock had immediately fled the headquarters of his family's business. However, this didn't mean he had abandoned all of his family's wealth.

As the saying goes, "A cunning rabbit has three burrows." In a world plagued by pirates, merchants understood this principle better than anyone. Concentrating all one's wealth in a single location was a recipe for disaster; a single pirate raid could wipe out years of effort.

The Flash Gold Guild had accumulated considerable wealth over several generations. While Sherlock had to abandon most of the business operations within the borders of the Navia Kingdom, he wasn't about to leave behind the portable assets—cash, antiques, and other valuables—that he could take or hide.

Taking advantage of the fact that Arcadio Buendía hadn't yet received news of his actions—or hadn't had time to react—Sherlock had been tirelessly relocating his assets. The process had been rushed, resulting in some losses, but he couldn't afford to dwell on them. Only now could he finally take a moment to rest.

Sherlock followed Aramis and Edmond to a small courtyard that had been prepared in advance. He had no interest in inspecting the environment. The moment he saw the soft bed in the bedroom, his body gave out, and he collapsed onto it. Before long, the sound of his snores filled the room.

Edmond and Aramis exchanged a glance, quietly left the room, and closed the door behind them.

Sherlock slept until the next morning, waking only when hunger roused him. When he opened the door to his bedroom, he found Edmond and Aramis sitting in the living room, eating breakfast.

Sherlock had heard that the two had grown distant after Vallon's death. But now, while they weren't exactly close, they seemed more mature than before. Gone were the days when they openly displayed their animosity toward each other.

Seeing Sherlock, Edmond smiled and gestured to an extra plate of breakfast on the table. "I figured you'd wake up hungry."

After a good night's sleep, Sherlock looked much better. He thanked Edmond, pulled out a chair, and sat down. With a wry smile, he said, "I'm a wanted man now. I honestly don't know where else to go, so I had to trouble you."

"William already knows about your situation," Edmond said. "He asked me to tell you to stay here and rest easy. This place is safe."

Hearing William's name, Sherlock voiced the question that had been nagging at him. "Where is William? I haven't seen him."

"William is currently aboard Red-Beard Barbarossa's ship," Edmond replied.

Sherlock's expression immediately darkened. Edmond realized his incomplete explanation had caused a misunderstanding and quickly clarified, "He's safe. He boarded the ship under a false identity."

Sherlock relaxed slightly but warned, "Barbarossa is not someone to be trifled with. This isn't news you should casually share with others."

Aramis interjected, "William said you're not an outsider."

Sherlock's hand, which had been moving his knife and fork, paused for a moment. After experiencing such highs and lows, hearing those words deeply moved him.

He blinked slowly, then smiled at Edmond and Aramis. "Sorry, I guess I was being too formal."

Chapter 52

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 52: Cracks

After a few days drifting with the Red-Beard Pirates, William could feel the oppressive atmosphere aboard the ship, even as a newcomer. For someone with prior pirate experience like him, the tension was even more evident.

Out on the vast sea, their ship was the only vessel in sight, creating a sense of isolation from the world. The daily grind of labor, the salty sea breeze, and the monotonous scenery only added to the crew's frustration. The atmosphere on the ship resembled a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest spark.

At times like this, the crew needed either the captain's authority to restore order or an outlet for their bottled-up emotions.

Barbarossa was clearly aware of this. In addition to increasing his patrols on the deck, he steered the pirate ship onto a major shipping route, hoping to find some prey.

That day, William was helping clean the deck when a shout erupted from the crow's nest.

All the pirates on the deck instinctively turned to look up. William shaded his eyes with his hand and saw a wiry pirate in the crow's nest excitedly pointing to the side of the ship. He shouted down to the crew below, "There's a ship over there!"

The first mate, Reis, was also on deck. Upon hearing this, he immediately climbed up another mast. Despite his massive, bear-like build, Reis moved with the agility of a monkey. Gripping the mast and ropes, he scaled it in just a few swift movements.

Watching the mast sway slightly under Reis's weight, William couldn't help but worry that it might break.

Once Reis reached the crow's nest, he pulled a spyglass from his coat and peered in the direction the wiry pirate had indicated. After observing for a moment, he shouted down to the crew, "Go inform the captain!"

Although Reis hadn't called his name, William immediately turned and ran toward the stern.

From above, Reis nodded in approval. He then grabbed a rope with one hand and leapt from the crow's nest. Swinging through the air a couple of times, he skillfully descended by sliding his hands down the rope, landing steadily on the deck.

By this time, Hayreddin, the ship's navigator, had emerged from below deck upon hearing the commotion. He, too, carried a spyglass and moved toward the ship's side. The pirates near him quickly stepped aside, wary of angering this notoriously temperamental officer.

Compared to Hayreddin, the crew clearly preferred Reis. A few old pirates moved away from Hayreddin and gathered around Reis, bombarding him with questions: "First Mate, what kind of ship is it?"

"A merchant ship," Reis replied with a grin.

The group erupted into cheers.

Meanwhile, William sprinted to the captain's quarters. After knocking twice, the door creaked open, and Barbarossa's large, tricorn-hatted head emerged. He looked at William and asked, "What's the matter?"

Feigning excitement, William reported, "Captain, someone spotted a ship off the bow."

Barbarossa stepped out of his quarters, nodded at William, and strode toward the bow.

As they walked, Barbarossa suddenly asked, "I heard you had a little disagreement with Kuro a few days ago?"

William wasn't surprised that Barbarossa knew about this. After all, he had deliberately spread the story, fully expecting it to reach the captain's ears. Still, he put on an awkward expression.

"You're all shipmates on the same vessel. Don't hold grudges against each other," Barbarossa said. "There might be a battle soon. Since you're skilled, head to the cabin and keep an eye on him. Don't let him wander around and get hurt. Use this opportunity to improve your relationship."

William's mind raced, but he outwardly displayed a reluctant expression. Just then, Hatcheson, with his perpetually red, bulbous nose, appeared in the corridor ahead. Barbarossa called him over and instructed him to accompany William in "protecting" Kuro.

As an experienced pirate, Hatcheson immediately grabbed the still-pretending-to-be-confused William and led him off to find Kuro.

William muttered indistinct grumbles, as if complaining about being excluded from the upcoming battle, while inwardly sneering.

The survival model of "Red-Beard" Barbarossa closely resembled the system William had envisioned.

It relied on a land-based trading company to provide intelligence support. The pirate crew would then use their strength to eliminate competitors, with the trading company fencing the loot and converting it into supplies to sustain the pirates' operations.

William's smuggling network had been built with a similar purpose in mind. Smuggling, being an illegal trade, could just as easily handle contraband like alcohol as it could pirate-plundered goods.

However, Barbarossa's model was even larger in scale. His land-based allies not only provided intelligence but could also mobilize official forces for support—even the Marines had a role to play.

But compared to William's envisioned system, Barbarossa's approach had a fatal flaw.

In William's design, he maintained absolute control. When negotiating his initial smuggling deal with Sherlock, he had been willing to walk away rather than cede power.

In contrast, "Red-Beard" Barbarossa lacked absolute control within his own system. His relationship with his allies was, at best, a partnership. This was evident from Kuro's presence. Despite Kuro's unpopularity, neither Barbarossa nor Reis had made things too difficult for him. Clearly, this wasn't out of respect for Kuro himself but for the faction he represented.

While this alliance-based model allowed for faster growth and greater expansion than William's centralized approach, to William, it seemed bloated and inefficient.

Within the same camp, different factions had their own interests and agendas. The faction Kuro represented believed that since they fenced loot, provided intelligence, and offered logistical support, they were entitled to a fair share of the spoils.

Meanwhile, Barbarossa and his pirates resented having to share their hard-earned loot with a faction that, to them, contributed little in terms of effort.

Barbarossa's suggestion that William and Kuro "improve their relationship" was nonsense. His real intention was obvious: to keep an eye on Kuro and limit his movements. After the battle, Barbarossa and his crew would tally the loot, and the final numbers would be whatever Barbarossa decided.

William had seen enough failed partnerships in his previous life to know that cooperation without a strong external threat rarely led to unity. Instead, it often resulted in disputes and legal battles.

Talking about rules and agreements with pirates was unreliable. William knew this wasn't the first time Barbarossa had employed such tactics. When he and Hatcheson found Kuro, the young man's face already bore a resigned expression, clearly familiar with the situation.

In the past, Arcadio Buendía had tolerated Barbarossa's underhanded methods to avoid straining their alliance. While the two occasionally disagreed over profit distribution, their differences had never escalated into a rift.

Unfortunately, the Red-Beard Pirates now had a new member with ulterior motives.

Chapter 53

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 53: Resentment

The sounds of battle outside grew more intense, but they had little to do with the three people inside the cabin.

William leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring unblinkingly at the grim-faced Kuro. Beside him, Hatcheson didn't seem as reckless as usual; he sipped his drink while attempting to make idle conversation with Kuro, though his efforts were mostly in vain.

Kuro maintained his usual cold demeanor, responding with only a few perfunctory words.

This wasn't the first time Kuro had been "secured for his safety" by Red-Beard Barbarossa during such situations. Whenever the crew stumbled upon prey like today, Barbarossa rarely handed over the spoils without taking his share first.

Kuro casually brushed off Hatcheson's chatter, but he couldn't ignore William's unrelenting gaze. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he snapped with a trace of anger, "Why do you keep staring at me?"

"What can I do? The captain ordered me to keep an eye on you and ensure your safety. With how fragile you look, I'm worried that if I take my eyes off you for even a second, you'll end up battered and bloody. How would I explain that to the captain?" William replied mockingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

He was deliberately provoking Kuro, and it seemed to be working. Kuro shot to his feet, stepping right up to William. William straightened as well, one hand resting on the hilt of his cutlass, looking ready for a fight.

But there was still Hatcheson in the room. He clearly wasn't about to let a physical altercation break out under his watch. Quickly stepping between the two, he spent quite some effort calming them down.

Time dragged on in the cabin, with Hatcheson practically sitting on pins and needles. Finally, the sounds of fighting outside began to fade. It was a long while after the battle had ended that heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, approaching the cabin.

Although the Red-Beard Pirates, renowned across the East Blue, were unlikely to meet their end in some minor skirmish, the three inside the cabin still couldn't help but feel a tinge of unease.

Only when Hayreddin's scarred, bald head appeared through the doorway did the tension in the room dissipate.

Hayreddin, his curved blade still dripping with blood, stepped into the cabin. He shot a brief glance at William and Hatcheson before turning his attention to the visibly displeased Kuro. "The fight's over," he said casually. "You can go tally the loot now."

William's earlier taunts had already angered Kuro, and Hayreddin's dismissive tone only added fuel to the fire.

In a moment of impulse, Kuro sneered with resentment, "It's 'finally' over, huh? I wonder how much loot will actually be left this time."

Hayreddin didn't know what had transpired in the cabin earlier, but he was not the forgiving type, nor someone who let slights slide. On the contrary, he was known for being petty and vindictive.

Though Kuro's comment was more about tone than content, Hayreddin's eyes narrowed dangerously. His lips curled into a menacing smile as he asked, "What's that supposed to mean? Got a problem?"

Kuro regretted his words almost immediately. Anyone who spent time aboard the Red-Beard Pirates' ship knew that while Hayreddin might be the weakest of the Red-Beard Brothers, he was also the most difficult to deal with.

Perhaps it was because he was the youngest and spoiled, or perhaps it was due to the disfigurement he had suffered in the past. Whatever the reason, Hayreddin had developed a cruel and volatile temperament, prone to punishing or even killing over the smallest provocations.

When Hayreddin got angry, he didn't care about Kuro's status.

Kuro wanted to back down, but he could feel William's mocking gaze on him. His pride wouldn't let him admit defeat so easily. His lips twitched as if to say something, but his hesitation only deepened Hayreddin's suspicion.

"So, you really do have a problem, huh?" Hayreddin's smile became even more sinister.

He tilted his head, scrutinizing Kuro for a moment before suddenly turning to William and Hatcheson. "Hold him down for me!"

Hatcheson didn't hesitate. He immediately stepped forward and grabbed one of Kuro's arms. William, though a beat slower, followed suit, pinning Kuro's other arm from behind.

Kuro instinctively struggled, and William was surprised to find that, despite his frail appearance, Kuro's strength wasn't insignificant. When Kuro's fingers reflexively clamped down on William's arm, the grip was so strong it caused William genuine pain. It seemed Kuro had specifically trained his finger strength.

However, Kuro only resisted briefly before going limp. He knew that Hayreddin, despite his limited strength and abilities, represented the will of Barbarossa. And on the Red-Beard Pirates' ship, there was no democracy or freedom. Defying Barbarossa's authority could only lead to one outcome: death.

Even Count Arcadio, Kuro's master, had to tread carefully during his dealings with Barbarossa, despite the protection afforded by Seastone. Kuro had no illusions about his own chances.

Realizing he had no way of escaping from William, Hatcheson, and Hayreddin, Kuro stopped resisting. Any further struggle would only escalate the situation beyond repair.

Under Hayreddin's orders, William and Hatcheson forced Kuro to his knees. Kuro, now thoroughly humiliated, looked up at Hayreddin and tried to steady his voice. "Mr. Hayreddin, you know who I am. You can't kill me."

"Of course I know who you are," Hayreddin sneered. "I'm not going to kill you. But it seems you've forgotten who you are, so I'll just have to remind you."

With that, Hayreddin swung his curved blade, striking Kuro across the face with the flat of the blade.

A loud smack echoed through the cabin. Kuro's head jerked to the side, and the force of the blow sent his glasses flying. The spot where the blade had struck began to swell visibly.

"You're a pirate now," Hayreddin growled. "Stop putting on airs like some nobleman. Remember your place and show some respect when you speak to me!"

Another swing of the blade, and Kuro spat out a mouthful of blood, several teeth mixed in.

"You're the ship's quartermaster. While the captain and the rest of the crew are out there risking their lives, you're back here complaining about the loot?"

A third strike landed, leaving Kuro's face a swollen, bloody mess. Only then did Hayreddin gesture for William and Hatcheson to release him.

Kuro collapsed onto the floor, supporting himself with trembling hands as he gasped for breath. He didn't dare look up, knowing full well that his eyes would betray the seething hatred within.

The physical pain was nothing compared to the humiliation. The psychological wound cut far deeper, leaving an indelible mark on Kuro's soul. Yet, no matter how much venom he harbored in his heart, he had no choice but to endure.

William and Hatcheson exchanged glances before turning their eyes back to Hayreddin.

The scarred, bald officer didn't seem satisfied yet. He cast a disdainful look at Kuro and sneered, "Since he's so concerned about tallying the loot, why don't you two carry him over there to finish his 'work'?"

The word "work" dripped with sarcasm.

Hatcheson shrugged at William, his expression hinting at schadenfreude. Kuro's humiliation was complete.

But William wasn't paying attention to that. As he crouched down to lift Kuro by the shoulders, he noticed the man's clenched fists. Kuro's fingers were so tightly curled that his knuckles had turned white, and his nails seemed ready to pierce his own flesh.

Chapter 54

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 54: The Secret Meeting

Kuro had utterly lost face in front of the entire Red-Beard Pirates crew. Yet Barbarossa's response to Hayreddin's actions was merely to offer Kuro a few words of consolation. He didn't reprimand Hayreddin, not even as a superficial gesture to save Kuro's dignity.

While Barbarossa wasn't as volatile and short-tempered as his fearsome reputation suggested, he was far from a benevolent or magnanimous leader. He was a pirate—a great pirate—but nothing more. He had little interest in catering to Kuro's feelings.

If Barbarossa had ever intended to curb Hayreddin's temper, he would have done so long ago. And he certainly wasn't going to make an exception for Kuro.

Kuro had no choice but to swallow his humiliation. He couldn't afford to show any overt resentment, lest he invite even harsher treatment.

After drifting at sea for what felt like an eternity, the ship finally reached land.

Near the capital of the Navia Kingdom, Kalmar City, the Red-Beard Pirates lowered their pirate flag. Under the cover of night, they carefully navigated past hidden reefs, riding the sea breeze into a secluded private harbor. With a heavy clunk, the anchor was dropped.

In the darkness, only the faint outline of a dock could be seen. Reis, accompanied by a few seasoned pirates, nimbly leapt ashore. Before long, several torches were lit near the dock, piercing through the pitch-black night.

By the torchlight, William surveyed his surroundings. The private harbor was rudimentary at best. It appeared to be a natural cove, surrounded by rocky hills that provided both concealment and shelter from storms. Its proximity to Kalmar City made it an ideal location. A small hill stood at the entrance to the harbor, serving as a natural lookout post for any docked ships.

The only drawback was its size. The harbor was cramped, with only the barest of constructions to improve it—crude and makeshift at best.

The Red-Beard Pirates often docked near Kalmar City for extended stays. It gave the crew, hardened by life at sea, a chance to blow off steam in the bustling city while also restocking supplies.

While basic necessities like food and water could be replenished in rural villages, weapons and ammunition could only be procured here.

However, the capital was no lawless frontier. Even the infamous Red-Beard Pirates, who struck fear throughout the East Blue, couldn't act with impunity here. They had to disguise themselves and sneak into the city. Fortunately, they had allies within Kalmar City—powerful allies.

A crude warehouse stood by the dock, offering some shelter from the elements. The pirates unloaded their spoils—items like tea leaves and tobacco that they couldn't sell themselves—and stored them in the warehouse. Only after their work was done did Barbarossa begin organizing the crew into groups, granting them permission to enter the city in shifts.

Perhaps due to his status as a reserve navigator, William found himself included in the first group allowed ashore.

To be honest, after such a long voyage—during which they had only briefly stopped at uninhabited islands to replenish fresh water—William was just as eager as the rest of the crew for a break on solid ground. While he didn't cheer like some of the others, he was relieved to finally have a chance to rest.

Once ashore, William wasn't alone. After spending so much time aboard the ship, he had become well-acquainted with the crew. On a ship this size, it was impossible not to run into the same faces every day—whether scrubbing the deck, eating meals, or even using the latrine. Life aboard the ship was less about living and more about being confined together.

With his solid skills, knowledge of navigation—a critical talent on any ship—and his seemingly straightforward and cheerful demeanor, William had earned himself a decent reputation among the crew. Several seasoned pirates invited him to join them for some fun, a stark contrast to the solitary figure of Kuro, who disembarked alone.

As they approached Kalmar City, encircled by its sturdy walls, William couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. However, the guards at the city gates, upon receiving a jingling pouch tossed by Reis, promptly allowed the group of burly, suspicious-looking men to pass without question.

Once inside, the pirates broke into smaller groups. Some sang loudly, while others enthusiastically discussed their plans to find some women for company. They quickly scattered, seeking outlets for their pent-up energy.

A few of the older pirates, debating where to find the best women, invited William to join them. He declined with a feigned shyness.

In truth, William, a seasoned "veteran" in his past life, was tempted. But memories of the Age of Exploration and the various diseases spread by sailors around the world quickly doused his enthusiasm. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Wandering the city alone, William appeared aimless, weaving through streets and alleys. Occasionally, he would stop to ask passersby for directions, pretending to be unfamiliar with the area. In reality, he was carefully observing his surroundings, ensuring he wasn't being followed.

Only after confirming he was in the clear did William casually make his way to an inconspicuous tavern. Scanning the main hall and finding no sign of any Red-Beard Pirates, he ascended the stairs to the second floor.

The doors on the second floor were all tightly shut. Standing in the hallway, William took out his Transponder Snail, "Watson," which he had kept hidden on his person all this time. He spoke into it, "I'm here."

As soon as he finished speaking, one of the previously closed doors creaked open. Without hesitation, William strode over.

Once inside, Edmond peeked out to ensure no one was nearby before shutting the door. Leaning against it, he braced himself to prevent eavesdropping.

At the table, Sherlock and Aramis rose almost simultaneously to greet him.

"William."

"Sherlock."

The two longtime collaborators shared a brief embrace. Aramis, ever the gentleman, pulled up a chair for William.

The presence of Edmond, Aramis, and Sherlock in Kalmar City seemed bold, but upon closer consideration, it wasn't as reckless as it appeared.

Though the city was within enemy territory, the victors—flush with their triumph—were likely to underestimate William and his allies. From the time of Vallon and Edmond's ambush to the present, enough time had passed to suggest that their enemies had moved on. The behavior of the Red-Beard Pirates and the city guards made it clear: their adversaries had likely dismissed them as a threat.

Blending into Kalmar City had been relatively easy for Edmond and the others. The clandestine nature of their meeting was more a reflection of William's cautious nature than actual necessity.

Once William was seated, Sherlock wasted no time. "The ones connected to the Red-Beard Pirates are likely the Buendía family, and their head, Arcadio."

Lighting a cigarette, William gestured for Sherlock to continue while he processed the information.

Sherlock obliged. "The Buendía family has been a noble house in the Navia Kingdom for over a century. Arcadio himself holds the position of Minister of Finance and bears the title of Count. Among the four chief ministers, he ranks as the most prominent."

"A big shot, huh..." William exhaled a ring of smoke, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Chapter 55

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 55: Dog Eat Dog

"When I came upstairs just now, I noticed many people openly drinking in the hall. These drinks must have come from that Count, right?" William quickly pieced together the situation.

"Exactly. The king trusts him deeply. It's said that the king's decision to issue the prohibition law was influenced by his advice," Sherlock replied through gritted teeth. "Now it's clear—after the prohibition was enacted, he used his position and influence to monopolize the liquor industry, funneling all the profits into his own pockets. Our smuggling network, which we painstakingly built, must have caught his eye. That's why we were attacked. No wonder we couldn't break into the Kalmar City market no matter what we tried."

At this point, Aramis brought over an unopened bottle of red wine. William took it, turned the bottle in his hands, and examined the label and packaging. His brow furrowed. "Is this ours?"

Aramis nodded grimly. Arcadio and his men hadn't just stolen their business; they had also seized the stock they had stored locally, only to sell it openly under their own name. If not for William's restraint, the impulsive young men in their group would have stormed Arcadio's mansion and torn him apart by now.

Sherlock's rage burned even hotter than Aramis's. Upon arriving in Kalmar City, the first thing he had done was to investigate the whereabouts of his father's body, only to learn that it had long since been dumped into the sea.

His father, a respectable merchant, had died a humiliating death in a foreign land, and now even his remains were lost.

To Sherlock, his sole reason for living now was to avenge his father. As the only son of Sassarian, it was his duty!

"William, with your skills and some preparation, killing Arcadio wouldn't be difficult," Sherlock said, his eyes red with anger. "As for the Red-Beard Pirates, you're already on the ship. You could poison him."

"And the Marines?" William countered. "We still haven't identified the mastermind on their side. I've already sent Gin to investigate. We should have news soon."

Leaning forward, William placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and locked eyes with him. "But let me ask you—do you think just killing them is enough?"

"I don't think it's enough," William continued before Sherlock could respond. "They treated us like dirt, so we'll do the same to them. What we've lost, we'll take back tenfold. Their lives? That's just interest. I don't just want their lives—I want everything they have!"

Sherlock's chest heaved with fury. Of course, he wanted nothing more than to butcher Arcadio and his accomplices as quickly as possible. Every day of restraint was torture for him. But he knew that his revenge could only be achieved with William and his crew's help, so he had to follow William's plan. Besides, William would never abandon the idea of revenge—after all, Vallon had died because of their enemies.

After a moment of silence, Sherlock asked, "What's your plan?"

"First, we'll make them turn on each other. Then, the first to go will be Barbarossa. We'll take over the Red-Beard Pirates," William explained.

Barbarossa might seem like the strongest force to deal with, but in reality, he was the easiest target for William and his allies. Barbarossa's greatest asset was his brute strength. As long as William could match that strength and gain the trust of Arcadio and the Marines, he could replace Barbarossa.

During his time infiltrating the Red-Beard Pirates, William had already begun to craft a more detailed plan based on his observations.

After finalizing their strategy, William left the tavern and returned to the streets.

Judging by his nonchalant demeanor, no one would suspect he had just been plotting to murder his own captain.

A shout from behind caught William's attention. He turned to see Reis, the first mate of the Red-Beard Pirates, striding toward him with a group of seasoned pirates—some of the ship's best.

William's heart skipped a beat. His hand casually rested on the hilt of his cutlass. He had practiced his Iai Slash countless times. Whether it was bamboo mats, wooden stakes, trees, stones, or human bodies, nothing could withstand the explosive power and speed of his swordsmanship.

If Reis stepped into his attack range without showing any signs of preparation or defense, William was confident he could kill him in a single strike.

Feigning confusion, William kept his body relaxed but ready to spring into action. Reis, oblivious to William's hidden intentions, called out from a distance, "I've been looking all over for you."

"What's going on?" William asked, relaxing slightly. If Reis had discovered his secret, he wouldn't have started the conversation from so far away without making any threatening moves.

"There's a bit of trouble. Come with me," Reis said as he reached William, his tone tinged with impatience. Without offering much explanation, he motioned for William to follow and headed toward the street corner.

As they walked, one of the older pirates explained the situation to William.

The Red-Beard Pirates had over a hundred crew members, all of whom were completely detached from regular production. Their daily needs—food, water, and other necessities—were a massive drain on resources.

While basic supplies could be obtained through raids or extortion, replenishing military equipment was far more challenging.

After every sea battle, the pirates would burn through cannonballs, throwing axes, knives, bullets, gunpowder, and even swords and firearms. None of these were cheap, and since pirates couldn't avoid battles, they needed a stable supply line.

Thanks to their alliance with a powerful local figure, the Red-Beard Pirates relied on Arcadio to provide most of their military supplies. Arcadio often diverted resources from the Navia Kingdom's army to support them. Occasionally, thanks to his good relationship with Colonel Roy, he even managed to procure some of the Marines' latest weaponry for the pirates.

But Barbarossa wasn't a fool. While he might not be a strategic genius, he wasn't about to entrust such a critical lifeline entirely to someone else without a backup plan.

In Kalmar City, the Red-Beard Pirates also had connections with independent arms dealers. Compared to Arcadio, who pilfered military supplies like a rat, these dealers were far more professional. Barbarossa frequently purchased weapons from them.

Of course, being merchants, these arms dealers didn't limit their business to the Red-Beard Pirates alone.

Among their customers were kingdom representatives secretly stockpiling arms for potential wars, as well as notorious pirate crews.

The old pirate explained that Reis had planned to meet with one of these arms dealers to procure supplies. However, he had received intel that a rival pirate crew, one hostile to the Red-Beard Pirates, would also be there.

Since Barbarossa wasn't around and Reis didn't know how many men the rival crew had brought, he decided to gather a group of skilled fighters to accompany him. If the rivals had the numbers, they could avoid being at a disadvantage. If not, Reis wouldn't hesitate to start a fight and eliminate them.

"Who are they? Who dares cross us?" William asked.

Barbarossa's bounty was a staggering 19 million Beli, a figure kept relatively low only because of his collusion with Arcadio and the Marines, who had shifted much of the blame for his crimes onto other pirate captains.

In the East Blue, where the average pirate bounty was only three to four million, a bounty exceeding ten million was already considered extraordinary. Naturally, William was curious.

Reis, who had been walking ahead with a grim expression, suddenly turned to look at William. After a pause, he said, enunciating each word clearly, "The Cook Pirates, led by 'Red-Leg' Zeff!"

Chapter 56

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 56: Zeff

From the outskirts, it was clear that Kalmar City had been built with little to no planning. Rows of low, chaotic buildings sprawled like wild weeds, scattered haphazardly. Adding to the disarray were the strange structures erected by residents eager to claim extra space, turning the impoverished district into a labyrinthine maze. Narrow gaps between houses and low-rise buildings formed dark alleys, where poor sanitation bred an environment teeming with garbage, thugs, and rogues.

For pirates like the Red-Beard Pirates, their presence here didn't raise any alarm—this slum was already a haven for filth and vice.

But as Reis led William and the others deeper into the city, ascending a long stone staircase, the scene suddenly transformed. Wide streets, orderly buildings, and the absence of bizarre balconies blocking the sunlight created a stark contrast. Even the sunlight seemed brighter in this area.

One staircase separated two completely different worlds.

"No wonder it stinks down there," muttered one of the pirates, pointing at something.

William followed his gaze and saw a drainage outlet nearby, spewing wastewater. Clearly, this area had a relatively well-designed underground drainage system. However, due to its higher elevation and the lack of consideration for the city outskirts during its construction, some of the wastewater ended up flowing into the slums.

The slums, lacking any underground drainage system, were perpetually plagued by a faint stench. Before coming here, William and two other pirates had assumed the smell was simply due to the residents' habit of littering. Now, it was clear that wasn't the whole story.

Reis waved his hand. "Stop gawking. This isn't the slums. There are plenty of guards here."

Indeed, the number of patrolling guards and soldiers here was noticeably higher than in the slums. A few residents spotted them emerging from the staircase and began pointing and whispering from a distance. Without lingering further, the group followed Reis to an inconspicuous restaurant.

Behind the counter in the restaurant's lobby stood a man who appeared to be the manager. He seemed familiar with Reis. Upon seeing him, the manager said nothing, merely gesturing with his hand before leading the group of intimidating pirates toward the kitchen.

William noted that, unlike in the slums, no one here dared to openly drink alcohol at the dining tables.

The manager guided them to a door leading to a basement room behind the kitchen. The thick iron door had only a small window, giving it the appearance of an ordinary storage room.

The manager knocked lightly on the iron door, and the small window was promptly opened from inside, revealing a pair of wary eyes.

"Guests of the boss," the manager said, stepping aside so that Reis and the others could be seen by the person behind the door.

After scanning the group, the person inside opened the iron door, releasing a wave of noisy chatter mixed with the scent of alcohol.

William hesitated briefly, but by the time the door had opened, a burly man—whose size rivaled Reis's—was already leading the group into the basement.

The space was far larger than William had anticipated, styled like a bar. Dark red wallpaper bathed in warm lighting added a touch of intimacy to the surroundings. Waiters in vests openly carried various drinks to the tables, while scantily clad women performed provocative dances on stage, drawing whistles and cheers from the audience below.

Once inside the underground bar, the restaurant manager bowed and excused himself. The burly man then led the group of pirates past the lively stage to a spacious meeting room.

The meeting room was well soundproofed; once the door was closed, the noise from outside was almost completely silenced. The men already in the room, who had been chatting and laughing, fell quiet as the door opened and Reis's group entered.

As William stepped into the room, he quickly scanned the surroundings before his gaze settled on the four men seated on the sofa opposite the door.

At a glance, he could tell they were pirates. The ruggedness and carefree demeanor that seemed to disregard even their own lives were traits unique to seasoned pirates who had spent years braving the seas.

The man seated at the center of the sofa was a middle-aged pirate with short, messy blond hair that looked like it hadn't been groomed in ages. His upper lip sported two neatly braided mustaches that extended straight to either side, gleaming with an unusual luster. Combined with his prominent hooked nose, his appearance left a lasting impression.

He wore a high-collared trench coat over a loose tank top, revealing his well-defined, muscular physique.

When he saw Reis and the others, the three pirates seated beside him immediately stood up, their expressions wary. Only the man in the center remained seated, unmoving.

This man was none other than Zeff, the captain of the Cook Pirates, nicknamed "Red-Leg." Like Barbarossa, Zeff was a well-known figure in the East Blue. However, while Barbarossa was famous for his Devil Fruit abilities, Zeff's reputation stemmed not only from his strength but also from the rarity of his role as a pirate captain who was also a chef—a distinction uncommon even in other seas.

The fact that Zeff had risen to prominence in the pirate world despite his seemingly humble profession was a testament to his exceptional skill and leadership.

"See? I've always said that courage isn't tied to size. A big, burly man doesn't necessarily have a big heart to match," Zeff remarked, his gaze sweeping over Reis and his group. His tone was calm, yet loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "Coming to buy something, and you need a whole gang to back you up? I don't understand how such cowards can even call themselves pirates."

Zeff's sarcastic words reached the ears of the Red-Beard Pirates, who immediately turned to look at their first mate, Reis. Several impulsive pirates were already itching for a fight, including William, who feigned enthusiasm.

Despite the direct insult, Reis's expression remained relatively unchanged. He narrowed his eyes at Zeff, silently weighing the situation.

In this world, where individual combat strength varied greatly, the leader of a pirate crew was almost always the strongest member—a rule with few exceptions. Reis had initially assumed that the Cook Pirates were led by one of their officers, but seeing Zeff himself here was unexpected.

Reis had brought seven of the Red-Beard Pirates' best fighters, but with Zeff present, even with their numerical advantage, victory was far from guaranteed.

More importantly, Barbarossa had the backing of Arcadio, a high-ranking official in the Navia Kingdom. Arcadio would never tolerate—or allow—the Red-Beard Pirates to cause a major disturbance in the royal city.

There was also the matter of respecting the restaurant owner's hospitality. If Reis could swiftly take down one or two of the Cook Pirates' officers, he might disregard these concerns. But failing to do so would make any rash action pointless.

Though Reis appeared brutish, he was actually quite sharp. After assessing the situation, he smiled and said, "Captain Zeff, you seem to be in a bad mood. I thought we already had an understanding. Why create such a tense atmosphere the moment we meet?"

Chapter 57

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 57: Consensus

As Reis spoke, he began walking toward Zeff, but his path was blocked midway by three of Zeff's subordinates.

William took the lead, followed closely by Hatcheson and another Red-Beard Pirate named Harden. The three of them stepped forward without hesitation, standing their ground against the Cook Pirates. Though neither side drew weapons, they stood chest to chest like roosters ready to fight.

Zeff lightly swirled the amber liquid in his glass, not even sparing a glance at the tense standoff before him. Only when Reis frowned and called out, "Captain Zeff?" did he put his glass down.

"Back off and sit down," Zeff commanded his men curtly. "We're here to do business, not to pick fights."

The three Cook Pirates obeyed without a word of hesitation, immediately returning to Zeff's side.

With the Cook Pirates stepping back, William and the others naturally retreated as well. Zeff's gaze landed on William, who had been the first to step forward, and a mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Kid, do you know that people like you are usually the first to die at sea?"

William stopped in his tracks at those words, turning slightly as if ready to confront Zeff. But before he could act, Reis blocked him and led the Red-Beard Pirates to a corner of the meeting room to rest on a sofa.

The two groups of pirates kept their distance, eyeing each other warily. William, who had been putting on a show earlier, now feigned indignation and asked Reis, "First Mate, why didn't we fight just now?"

"Zeff was right. We're here to do business, not to fight," Reis replied, patting William on the shoulder. "Besides, pirate crews of our level usually have an understanding."

"What kind of understanding?" William asked.

Reis gave a meaningful smile. "We eat the small fish first."

If the East Blue were a vast grassland, then the Red-Beard Pirates and the Cook Pirates were undoubtedly its top predators. Both crews wanted to dominate the entire grassland or at least claim a larger territory. Neither side would hesitate to take a bite out of the other, weakening their rival whenever possible.

But both crews also understood that the grassland wasn't home to just the two of them. A direct confrontation would only result in mutual destruction, so they were cautious.

Both Barbarossa and Zeff knew that a reckless war would cost many lives among their crew members.

Thus, in most cases, both sides preferred to hunt weaker prey or deal with forces that posed a direct threat to their status, rather than engaging in pointless battles with strong enemies.

William's heart sank as he realized that, except in rare cases, pirates largely adhered to the Matthew Effect—the strong grew stronger, while the weak grew weaker. Dreaming of becoming invincible upon setting sail was nothing short of a fantasy. The old pirates who had roamed the seas for years weren't just stationary targets waiting to be overtaken.

For a while, the meeting room was shrouded in an eerie silence.

The stillness was finally broken when the burly man who had led William and the others into the room earlier opened the door again.

A young man, around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, strode into the meeting room, dressed in a white lab coat. Several others followed behind him, each carrying a case.

The moment this man entered, both Reis and Zeff instinctively stood up and moved toward him. Seeing this, William couldn't help but take a closer look at the newcomer.

The man was quite handsome, though his pale complexion and slightly prominent cheekbones gave him a sharp, stern look. Like William and Zeff, he had blond hair, but unlike the two unkempt pirates, his hair was neatly combed back, slicked tightly to his scalp.

"Dampier, you're late. That's rare for you," Zeff said to the young man.

The arms dealer, Dampier, smiled faintly, his gray eyes glancing toward his subordinates. He gestured for them to place the cases on the long table in the center of the meeting room.

"The lab came up with some good stuff. I guarantee that once you see it, you won't care that I'm late today."

Dampier opened a long leather case and pulled out two flintlock rifles with a somewhat rough appearance. With the tone of a TV shopping channel host from William's previous life, he began his pitch: "Using technology sourced from the Marines, my team and I reverse-engineered and optimized the loading mechanism. These are three-shot repeaters. In the hands of the same shooter, their reloading speed is over five times that of the standard flintlock rifles popular in the East Blue, and their firing rate is three times faster."

He handed one rifle to Reis and the other to Zeff. Reis began examining his rifle, while Zeff passed his to a subordinate who seemed more knowledgeable about firearms.

Neither of the pirate leaders was new to the game. As leaders of their respective crews, they were well aware of the practicalities and wouldn't be easily swayed by Dampier's sales pitch. After asking a few key questions, they shifted their focus away from the rifles.

The weapon was heavier than the standard flintlock rifles used in the East Blue. Its internal components were more complex and prone to damage. Given the high humidity at sea, maintenance would be a hassle.

Most importantly, the rifles were expensive—seven to eight times the price of a single-shot flintlock. For the same cost, a pirate crew could equip their marksmen with multiple single-shot rifles, achieving comparable firepower in a short burst. After all, in naval battles, long-range engagements were dominated by cannons, and firearms were typically used for one or two volleys before boarding combat began.

Additionally, pirate crews already struggled with logistical challenges. The increased ammunition consumption of repeaters would strain their supplies further. The bullets for these rifles were custom-made, and it wasn't hard to guess that Dampier had designed them this way intentionally. If a crew adopted these rifles, they'd be forced to buy ammunition exclusively from him.

Both Reis and Zeff concluded that the rifles offered poor value for money. The seasoned pirates in the room shared little interest in the weapons. However, William, intrigued, borrowed one from Reis and began fiddling with it.

From the perspective of William's previous life, the rifle still seemed outdated. Its firing mechanism relied on flint for ignition, with only the loading and bolt-return mechanisms modified. Beyond that, William didn't know much about firearms; in his previous world, strict gun control meant most of his knowledge came from movies and TV shows.

Still, the repeater represented a step forward in weaponry.

While this world's individuals could reach astonishing levels of personal combat power, that didn't render firearms irrelevant. Take William himself as an example: before his transmigration, the original owner of his body had started learning swordsmanship as a child. Though not particularly diligent, he had built a foundation. After two years of serious training at the Isshin Dojo, William had finally achieved some proficiency in swordsmanship.

That process required time, effort, money, and talent. In comparison, firearms, though not as critical as in his previous world, remained significant. They were cheaper than training individuals, easier to mass-produce, and offered higher cost-effectiveness in low-level conflicts.

Dampier, who had largely ignored the subordinates Reis and Zeff had brought, now noticed William's keen interest in the rifle. Smiling faintly, he glanced at William with his gray eyes and, without hiding his disdain for the others in the room, said, "Among this group of pirates, you're the only one with an eye for quality. If you like that rifle, consider it yours."

Chapter 58

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 58: The Old Fox

Both Zeff and Reis were well-acquainted with Dampier's personality, so they paid no mind to his mildly mocking remarks. Though the pirates of the Red-Beard Pirates shot him a few dissatisfied glances, they let it slide. Only Zeff's three subordinates glared menacingly, their eyes darting between Dampier and William.

Dampier hadn't just brought the repeating rifles; he had also introduced new weapons like grenades (fragmentation rounds), the kind typically only seen in Marine arsenals. The fact that Dampier could reverse-engineer such technology was undeniably impressive.

It was worth noting that the East Blue was often considered the weakest sea in terms of pirate activity. Even the Marines stationed here often had outdated equipment compared to their counterparts elsewhere. Yet Dampier's weapons were already more advanced than much of what the East Blue Marines possessed.

Once the weapons were purchased, orders placed, and transport arrangements finalized, the two groups—Reis's crew and Zeff's crew—left the meeting room.

As they passed through the underground bar and approached the restaurant's entrance, both sides maintained an uneasy truce. But as they reached the door and were about to part ways, Zeff's three subordinates suddenly stepped ahead, blocking the exit and signaling for Zeff to leave first.

The Red-Beard Pirates hadn't particularly cared about who exited first, but as pirates living by the blade and among the top crews in the East Blue, they valued their pride above all else. The earlier tension in the meeting room had nearly escalated into conflict, and the underlying animosity between the two groups was palpable. Zeff's subordinates' actions were like a spark igniting fresh hostilities.

This time, the pirate named Harden reacted faster than before. He immediately stepped forward, attempting to shove past Zeff's three subordinates.

At the same moment, as Zeff's men moved to block the door, William squinted at the bustling scene outside the restaurant. His mind raced, and in the next instant, he lunged forward, almost in sync with Harden.

With the rifle Dampier had gifted him still slung across his back and having been the first to step forward in the meeting room earlier, William naturally became the primary target of the Cook Pirates' ire.

One of Zeff's subordinates reached out to push William, unaware that William was eager to escalate the situation. While the Cook Pirates merely wanted to humiliate the Red-Beard Pirates, William aimed to provoke a full-blown brawl at the restaurant's entrance.

William's right hand shot out like lightning, striking the man's wrist with a knife-hand chop. As the man winced in pain and instinctively pulled his arm back, William's fingers extended, his index and middle fingers stabbing directly toward the man's eyes.

William's ruthless move finally caused Zeff, who had been calmly observing, to change his expression. With a light tap of his toe, Zeff's right leg swung like a battle axe toward William, the air cracking with a sharp snap as if a whip had lashed out.

William, however, had been paying close attention to Zeff all along. He knew that the strongest member of any pirate crew was almost always the captain, and Zeff was no exception.

Seeing Zeff's high roundhouse kick coming his way, William, already prepared, quickly retracted his right hand. At the same time, his left hand, gripping the sheath of his scimitar, raised the weapon to his side. His right hand then drew the blade partially from its sheath.

Though William didn't have time to fully unsheathe the scimitar, drawing it halfway was enough. The gleaming blade pointed directly at Zeff's incoming leg. While Zeff's leg techniques were formidable, his legs weren't impervious to blades. He couldn't risk kicking directly into the edge of the sword.

Zeff bent his knee, retracting his lower leg just in time to avoid the blade. Twisting his hips, he shifted from a side-facing stance to face William head-on. His right leg then shot out again, transforming the roundhouse kick into an upward snap kick, his leg snapping forward like a spring-loaded blade aimed at William's chin.

William tilted his head back just in time, narrowly avoiding the kick. Even so, he felt a sharp pain on his lips as the wind from Zeff's leg grazed them, leaving a small cut.

But such a minor injury was hardly enough to deter William. Bending his knees, he crouched low and swept his leg toward Zeff's supporting left leg.

Zeff sneered, unimpressed. His airborne right leg pivoted mid-air for the third time, bending at the knee and striking downward with his heel. The blow landed squarely on William's back, accompanied by a whistling sound as it cut through the air.

Blood trickled from the corner of William's mouth, but his expression remained unchanged. Using the force of Zeff's kick, he rolled forward, swiftly repositioning himself behind Zeff without missing a beat.

Zeff's face darkened. Before he could create distance, there was a sharp swish as William sprang up from the ground, scimitar fully drawn and slashing toward Zeff's neck.

The strength of both Zeff and William far exceeded that of the other pirates present. It wasn't until this moment that the rest of the pirates reacted. The sharp clicks of firearms being cocked echoed as Zeff's three subordinates simultaneously drew their pistols, aiming at William's vital points. The Red-Beard Pirates quickly followed suit, drawing their own weapons and aiming at Zeff's crew.

But just as William's blade touched Zeff's skin, he stopped. With a flick of his wrist, the blade traced a half-circle around Zeff's neck before coming to rest against his throat.

In mere moments, the restaurant entrance had devolved into a tense standoff. Zeff, caught off guard, hadn't expected to be subdued by a seemingly reckless young pirate. Now, with guns pointed in every direction, a single misstep could lead to a bloodbath.

"Well, old man, now tell me—between the two of us, who's more likely to die first?" William asked, licking the blood from his lips with a grin, utterly unfazed by the guns aimed at him.

Zeff tilted his head slightly, causing the blade to nick his neck and draw a thin line of blood. He didn't even blink. "Kid, you've got some skill, but don't you think you hold grudges a little too tightly?"

"Stolt, kill him!" came a low, commanding voice. Reis, whose expression had been shifting since the fight began, finally spoke. His eyes gleamed as he looked at William and Zeff, issuing the order without hesitation.

Hearing this, Zeff chuckled. "Go ahead, kid. If you strike, my men will open fire. I'm an old fox, you're just a young pup. I've lived far longer than you. Trading one life for another? Doesn't seem like a bad deal to me."

Zeff's words weren't just for William. His three subordinates, hearing their captain's declaration, grew even more resolute. Any trace of hesitation vanished from their faces.

William cast a deep glance at Reis. The three Cook Pirates holding guns showed no signs of trembling. Even with their captain in danger and guns pointed at their own vital points, they remained composed. Though their combat skills seemed lacking compared to William's, their psychological fortitude was undeniably remarkable.

These weren't the same kind of cannon fodder pirates William had encountered before, like those he had killed while rescuing Sherlock. At such close range, and with his injuries, William couldn't guarantee he could evade all three elite marksmen unscathed.

Reis's plan was clear: sacrifice a pawn like William in exchange for Zeff, the captain of the Cook Pirates. It was a calculated trade, one that made perfect sense. But William wasn't a loyal, naive pawn of the Red-Beard Pirates. His goal had already been achieved—the commotion had drawn attention. The growing unrest in the street and the restaurant was evident. In the distance, a scream rang out. Witnessing the clash between two groups of burly men who seemed like pirates, the nearby residents had begun fleeing in panic.

Chapter 59

Chapter 59: Standoff

William leaned in close to Zeff's ear and whispered, "How about you tell your men to lower their guns?"

Zeff snorted in disdain. "Do you take me for someone so afraid of death that I'd lose my head? Either let me go, or we die together!"

"So, it seems you're determined to go down with a no-name pawn like me?" William replied with a hint of threat in his voice, while mentally calculating the time. He wondered how long it would take for the restaurant's owner, Dampier, to arrive.

"Once you've chosen the life of a pirate, you lose the right to choose how you die," Zeff said, his sharp gaze sweeping over his three subordinates. His words weren't just directed at William but also at his own men. "The only thing we can decide is whether we die like men!"

William felt a chill run down his spine. He could sense Zeff's killing intent. This man, who had risen to the rank of pirate captain while maintaining the guise of a chef, was now showing a side of him that somewhat redeemed William's negative impression of pirates.

At least among pirates, not all were spineless cowards who bullied the weak and feared the strong.

Just as Zeff and his three subordinates were preparing to make their move, a group of people hurriedly entered the restaurant.

《One Piece：The True Codex》Dampier, still wearing his white lab coat, had come straight from his laboratory to the meeting room, and now to the restaurant entrance, without even finding time to change his clothes.

It was clear that the man was suppressing his anger. Holding a slender rapier in his hand, he stepped between the two groups locked in a tense standoff. First, he glanced at Reis and the Red-Beard Pirates, then at William and Zeff, whose blades were pressed against each other, and finally at Zeff's subordinates, who had their guns trained on the two. Taking a deep breath, he spoke: "Are you planning to kill each other here? In the royal capital? In front of my restaurant?"

"If either of you makes the first move, I guarantee you'll never get another shipment from me. Meanwhile, your opponent will have everything they could possibly need," Dampier warned, his hand resting on the hilt of his rapier. The men behind him also raised their guns, aiming at William and the others. "And don't think for a second that you'll leave here unscathed!"

As soon as Dampier finished speaking, Zeff was the first to respond. He ordered his subordinates, "You three, lower your guns."

Once his three men complied, Zeff turned to Dampier and said, "I'll give you this favor, Dampier. If I die, I trust you'll help my crew fulfill the obligations they couldn't complete."

Zeff's words were well-crafted. If William or Reis dared to harm him now, Dampier would certainly intervene.

Reis frowned but, seeing Dampier's gaze fixed on him, weighed the pros and cons before finally saying, "Let him go, Stolt."

With a shrug, William moved his blade away from Zeff's throat and cautiously retreated, slowly rejoining his crew.

Zeff turned around, showing no signs of anger or humiliation. Instead, he smiled at William. "Kid, I'll remember you. You're in trouble now. This old fox holds grudges just like you!"

William ignored the threat from the infamous East Blue pirate. As he passed Dampier, their eyes met briefly. Dampier seemed to be deep in thought as he looked at William.

In the distance, a commotion could be heard from the far end of the street. Dampier cast a cold glance at both groups and said, "It's probably the royal guards. I know some of you have connections with the big shots in the capital, but I don't want pirates and my restaurant to be publicly associated."

Reis forced a smile, while the other Red-Beard Pirates cheerfully patted William on the shoulder. Hatcheson asked about his injuries with concern, as if William had just won a glorious battle.

Before the royal guards arrived, the two pirate crews parted ways, each heading in opposite directions.

Kalmar City, at the residence of the Minister of Finance.

After seeing off Barbarossa and Kuro, Arcadio Buendía made his way to a small meeting room. His collaborator, the short-statured Marine Captain Roy, was standing with his hands behind his back, intently studying a painting of a nude woman displayed in the room.

Although Captain Roy, Arcadio, and "Red-Beard" Barbarossa had formed a de facto alliance of mutual interests, Roy still avoided meeting Barbarossa face-to-face whenever possible. Associating with a kingdom noble like Arcadio was one thing—if trouble arose, it could be explained to some extent. But colluding with a pirate like Barbarossa was a crime that couldn't be easily excused.

The profits Arcadio took from Barbarossa's spoils always included a share for Roy, which Arcadio would pass along. However, Barbarossa couldn't explain this arrangement to his crew, leading to inevitable discontent among his men. They viewed their captain and his hidden "partners" on land as greedy opportunists.

"These brainless pirates," Arcadio sighed, "they just can't understand that their freedom is thanks to the intelligence and official protection we provide. Instead, they're always fixated on petty gains."

Clearly, Kuro had privately informed Arcadio about Barbarossa once again pocketing a portion of the spoils. He might have even exaggerated the details.

Arcadio was also aware of Kuro's recent beating at the hands of Hayreddin, but he didn't care. As for Kuro's subtle hints about wanting to return to the trading company, Arcadio ignored those as well. In the end, Kuro left the mansion filled with disappointment and resentment.

"It's because they're stupid that they became pirates in the first place," Captain Roy said as he turned back around. Despite Barbarossa's reputation as a notorious pirate in the East Blue, Roy's tone carried an air of superiority.

Arcadio chuckled and was about to say something when the Transponder Snail in his pocket suddenly rang.

Offering Roy an apologetic smile, Arcadio stepped aside to take the call.

Roy didn't mind and turned his attention back to the room's decorations. When Arcadio finished the call, his expression was grim. Roy finally asked, "What's the matter?"

The call Arcadio had just received was about the public standoff between Reis, William, and Zeff, which had unfolded in full view of the townspeople.

"These scum are nothing but rabid dogs, always causing trouble," Arcadio sighed. "They're such a headache. If I could find suitable replacements, I'd kick them to the curb in a heartbeat."

"They're just pirates. There are plenty more where they came from," Roy replied nonchalantly, puffing on his cigar.

Elsewhere, William had already returned to the ship with the help of his crewmates. Along the way, the older pirates traveling with him vividly recounted to the remaining crew how William had subdued Red-Leg Zeff and joked with him even while surrounded by three loaded guns.

After Hatcheson and Harden helped him lie down and left, William suddenly sat up in his hammock. Though his face was still a bit pale, there was no sign of the weakness he had shown earlier.

Zeff's kicks, while powerful, hadn't been as forceful as they seemed. During their exchange, Zeff had changed his moves three times without having time to fully gather strength. The one kick that landed on William wasn't nearly as devastating as it appeared. Moreover, since acquiring the Robust trait, William's body had become significantly more resilient and quick to recover. The earlier display of needing assistance had been entirely an act.

Peeking outside to ensure no one was around, William pulled a Transponder Snail from his pocket and dialed a number.

When the call connected, William spoke in a low voice, "The bait's been set. Get ready to skin them."

Chapter 60

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 60: A Dark and Stormy Night

The island's climate was as capricious as ever. After several bouts of rain, the clouds over Kalmar City remained thick and heavy, like an inky shroud that refused to dissipate. When night fell, the city was engulfed in darkness, with only the scattered glow of streetlights piercing through.

Sherlock and Manny, posing as ordinary patrons, sipped their drinks lightly at a bar. Their gazes occasionally flickered toward Kuro, seated a few tables away.

After receiving a signal from William, Tony had personally traveled to Kalmar City with a few bold and capable subordinates. Since Red-Leaf Village bordered the Navia Kingdom, the journey wasn't far, and they arrived before the Red-Beard Pirates had departed.

It was rare for pirates to come ashore, and they wouldn't leave without indulging themselves. Besides, the supplies they needed—especially military-grade equipment—were no small expense and required time to prepare.

However, unlike his crewmates, who were reveling in their brief respite, Kuro appeared deeply troubled.

He drank one glass after another, pouring the liquor down his throat. His once meticulously groomed attire was now wrinkled, and his usually neat hair had become disheveled.

Kuro despised pirates. He hated the drunken, foul-smelling crew members, the stench of sweat and unwashed feet permeating the ship, the shared toilets and basins, the constant companionship of the salty sea breeze, and the rare opportunities to come ashore, which the crew treated like grand festivals.

He loathed everything about life on a pirate ship. What he desired was to be like Arcadio Buendía, a noble living in a spacious mansion, surrounded by impeccably dressed servants and maids. He dreamed of sipping fine tea from exquisite porcelain cups, savoring delicate pastries while leisurely reading the newspaper.

He longed to converse gracefully with the elite of high society at elegant banquets, rather than rubbing shoulders with a bunch of foul-mouthed, liquor-soaked pirates, constantly on the run from the Marines.

But all these beautiful fantasies had been shattered by reality. When Hayreddin had beaten him, the blows had landed not only on his face but also on his psyche.

Despite considering himself better educated and more intelligent, and often carrying an air of superiority when dealing with the crew, Hayreddin's actions had made one thing clear to him:

The self-proclaimed exceptional Kuro was insignificant in the eyes of a pirate leader.

And when Arcadio learned of the incident, he hadn't cared at all. Kuro was nothing more than a minor figure, not even worth as much as a pirate captain.

Over the past few days, Kuro had been haunted by a single thought: If one day Red-Beard Barbarossa killed him, would Arcadio turn against Barbarossa for his sake?

Deep down, Kuro already knew the answer, and it filled him with bitterness. All he could do was drown his sorrows in alcohol.

Several bar girls, noticing Kuro's relatively fine clothing and his generous spending, approached him one after another. But he waved them away irritably. "Get lost!"

The girls, offended, waved their handkerchiefs at him in frustration and left, muttering complaints. Manny chuckled at the scene and asked Sherlock, "When's he leaving?"

"Soon. William said he's on ship duty tomorrow, so he has to return to the ship tonight," Sherlock replied, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes glinting. "Stay focused. We can't afford to lose him."

"Look at him, drunk as a skunk. How could we possibly lose him?" Manny replied, but he straightened up and stopped talking, taking the task more seriously.

Meanwhile, Hayreddin was muttering curses under his breath. The alley was full of potholes, each filled with rainwater. In the dim light, they resembled landmines, requiring constant vigilance to avoid stepping into them. In the slums, such alleys were everywhere.

Because of his abrasive personality, even his fellow pirates kept their distance. Hayreddin didn't have a regular entourage, but he didn't mind.

In the shadow of a wall, something seemed to stir. Squinting, Hayreddin realized it was a drunkard lying unconscious by a puddle, mumbling incoherently.

A cruel smile spread across Hayreddin's face. He pulled a dagger from his boot, crouched beside the drunkard, grabbed a handful of his filthy hair, and exposed the man's mud-covered neck. Then, with the sharp blade, he slowly drew it across the man's throat.

As the drunkard clutched his neck, blood gushing uncontrollably, Hayreddin's eyes widened in exhilaration. His nostrils flared as a strange excitement filled his mind. Even the foul stench of the alley seemed less unpleasant in that moment.

Only after the drunkard fell silent did Hayreddin sigh with satisfaction and stand up. But as he turned toward the alley's entrance, he froze.

At the mouth of the alley stood a man, motionless. The darkness obscured his expression, but the faint light from outside revealed his red hair and the gleaming katana in his hand.

Hayreddin glanced behind him. At the other end of the alley, another man had appeared, also holding a katana, blocking his escape.

It didn't take a genius to figure out their intentions.

These two men were, of course, Edmond and Aramis.

Hayreddin wiped the blood off his dagger onto his shirt. After a brief hesitation, he suddenly bolted toward the alley entrance where Edmond stood.

Edmond sneered, raising his katana as he charged toward Hayreddin. At the other end, Aramis also silently rushed forward.

Their mission was simple: Hayreddin was not to leave this alley alive.

The sound of boots splashing through puddles shattered the alley's silence. As Hayreddin closed in on Edmond, he let out a low growl and swung his curved blade down at Edmond's head.

Edmond raised his katana, blocking the strike. But Hayreddin's other hand, holding the dagger, thrust toward Edmond in a concealed attack.

Edmond merely shifted his body slightly, dodging the dagger. He then grabbed Hayreddin's wrist, tilting his katana to deflect the curved blade to the side.

In the next instant, Edmond bent his arm and drove his elbow into Hayreddin's chest, striking the xiphoid process.

Hayreddin staggered back two steps, his chest tightening. Behind him, the sound of rapid footsteps grew louder, followed by a thunderous shout.

"Get on your knees!"

Aramis had reached Hayreddin's back, slamming the sheath of his katana into the back of Hayreddin's knees. A sickening crack echoed through the alley as Hayreddin's knees twisted into an unnatural angle. He let out a scream, collapsing to his knees, barely holding himself up with his hands.

But before he could recover, Edmond stomped on Hayreddin's hand, the one still gripping the curved blade, breaking his fingers with a sickening crunch.

Hayreddin howled in pain, flailing the dagger in his other hand aimlessly. But Aramis grabbed his arm from behind, straightened it, and Edmond drove his knee into Hayreddin's elbow with a sharp crack. His forearm hung limply, and the dagger clattered to the ground.

Chapter 61

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 61: The Pledge of Allegiance (Part 1)

Hayreddin slumped against the wall as Edmond leaned in close, his face twisted with fury. "Do you remember me?" he snarled.

Hayreddin stared blankly at the young face before him. It looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't recall any specific memory tied to it.

The Red-Beard Pirates had pillaged countless ships under Arcadio Buendía's orders. Incidents like the one involving Edmond and Vallon were neither the first nor the last. Months had passed since Hayreddin had briefly seen Edmond, and it was no surprise that he hadn't committed the man's face to memory.

Seeing Hayreddin's confusion, Edmond's nostrils flared in anger. He suddenly grabbed Hayreddin's head and smashed it against the wall with a sickening thud. Hayreddin's eyes rolled back, and blood began to trickle from his nose. It was only when Aramis intervened and pulled Edmond back that the assault stopped.

"He can't die yet," Aramis said through gritted teeth, trying to calm his companion.

Edmond glared at the unconscious Hayreddin for a long moment, his bloodshot eyes filled with murderous intent. Finally, with great difficulty, he tore his gaze away and retrieved a Transponder Snail from his pocket.

Kuro, his face flushed and his steps unsteady, stumbled into the alley. After just a few steps, his foot landed in a puddle, splashing water onto his trousers. This only worsened his already foul mood, and he began cursing everything: the slums, the pirates, Barbarossa, Arcadio, and even Stolt—William's alias.

As he drunkenly ranted and leaned against the wall for support, a familiar, nauseating stench, mingled with the smell of rotting garbage, wafted into his nostrils.

Kuro shivered violently, clamping his mouth shut. He adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers and noticed what appeared to be a figure lying against the wall not far away.

Cautiously, he approached. The figure remained motionless, so Kuro grabbed their shoulder and gently turned them over.

The color drained from Kuro's face. The shock seemed to sober him up partially, as cold sweat trickled down and flushed some of the alcohol from his system.

Before him lay a corpse. The person's throat had been slashed open, and all their blood had drained away. It was impossible to tell how long they had been dead.

Suddenly, a window on the second floor of a nearby building creaked open, drawing Kuro's attention. He instinctively looked up, only to see a cascade of white powder descending toward him.

Kuro reflexively shut his eyes and stumbled backward. Unfortunately, his drunken state left him uncoordinated. Even though his mind was beginning to clear, his body betrayed him, his legs wobbling and unable to carry him out of the powder's range in time.

The powder landed on his skin and mixed with his sweat, causing an immediate burning sensation.

"Lime?!" Kuro thought in panic. He heard the sound of footsteps and the swish of something cutting through the air. Squinting through his stinging eyes, he could barely make out a figure in the darkness.

Instinctively, Kuro tried to dodge, but a sharp pain exploded in his shoulder as something heavy, likely an iron rod, struck him. The blow sent him reeling, and he collapsed to the ground.

Lying prone, Kuro discreetly reached into his coat and felt for the pistol and knife he always carried.

In the past, Kuro had prided himself on being both intelligent and brave. He believed that even as a merchant, a certain level of combat ability was necessary to prevent mutinies or other crises. However, he had never felt an urgent need to train rigorously or carry weapons at all times.

That changed when the Buendía Trading Company noticed his talents and recruited him to replace their previous quartermaster, who had died. Joining the Red-Beard Pirates had been a turning point for Kuro, forcing him to focus on improving his self-defense skills. Like most pirates, he now carried weapons even when ashore.

Through his squinted eyes, Kuro saw a large, hulking figure charging toward him. Without hesitation, he drew his pistol and fired.

The gunshot echoed through the alley, and the lead bullet buried itself in the figure's abdomen. Kuro rolled to the side as the massive body crashed to the ground, narrowly avoiding being pinned beneath it. A bloodcurdling scream erupted from the fallen figure.

Kuro, now holding a strange-looking knife without a traditional handle—just a finger loop—slipped it onto his index finger. With practiced speed, he flipped onto his stomach, crouching low like a feline predator and assuming a defensive stance.

A light breeze carried the anguished cries of the fallen figure through the otherwise silent alley. No further attackers emerged.

Confused and wary, Kuro wiped the lime from his eyes and squinted at the figure writhing on the ground. The screams sounded eerily familiar.

Just then, the clouds parted, allowing the moonlight to pierce through and illuminate the alley. The pale light fell on the face of the fallen figure, revealing a bald head and a scarred, bloated face that Kuro recognized instantly.

"Hayreddin! Why is it Hayreddin?!"

Kuro's mind went blank as a wave of terror washed over him, far worse than the fear he had felt during the ambush.

Questions and doubts flooded his thoughts.

"Why is Hayreddin here? Did Barbarossa send him to kill me? Did I, in my drunken stupor, accidentally kill him?"

But in the end, all these questions boiled down to one: "What will Barbarossa do if he finds out I killed Hayreddin?"

Kuro began trembling uncontrollably. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground.

There was no doubt in his mind—he was doomed. Reis and Hayreddin had been with Barbarossa since the beginning. Not only had they fought side by side, but they were also blood relatives. Hayreddin's volatile and irritable nature had been tolerated solely because of his deep bond with Barbarossa. Any other captain would have thrown him overboard long ago.

A noise from behind startled Kuro. He turned his head mechanically, his face blank with despair. Standing behind him was a dark-skinned man in a white sailor's uniform with a blue scarf—a Marine.

Kuro's pupils contracted in fear as the Marine looked down at him coldly.

"Get out of here," the Marine ordered in a low voice.

Before Kuro could react, the Marine delivered a powerful kick to his chest, sending him tumbling across the ground like a ragdoll.

Kuro's mind was a chaotic mess. He didn't even bother retrieving the pistol he had dropped in his panic. Scrambling to his feet, he fled the alley as fast as his shaky legs could carry him.

The Marine waited until Kuro was gone before crouching beside Hayreddin, whose breathing was growing weaker by the second. His expression remained cold as he pulled a black bandana emblazoned with a pirate insignia from his pocket. Tearing it into strips, he pried open Hayreddin's fingers and stuffed the cloth into his hand.

Chapter 62

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 62: The Pledge of Allegiance (Part 2)

The Marine stuffed the torn bandana into Hayreddin's hand and picked up the pistol Kuro had left behind. Then, with casual nonchalance, he walked out of the alley.

"Agin!" A rat-faced lieutenant with shifty eyes frowned as he hurried over. "Where have you been?"

"Just using the restroom, sir!" The Marine recruit Agin stood at attention, his expression perfectly composed as he lied.

Kuro ran aimlessly, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the scene of the crime. Though still somewhat panicked, he had calmed down enough to think more clearly.

He knew he could never return to the Red-Beard Pirates. If Barbarossa discovered that he had killed Hayreddin, he would flay Kuro alive. Looking back, Kuro realized he had left too much evidence at the scene—not only had he abandoned his personal pistol, but there had also been a witness.

He couldn't trust Arcadio either. There was no guarantee that when Barbarossa learned the truth and demanded Kuro be handed over, Arcadio would protect him.

Kuro's only option was to flee the city. With Barbarossa's and Arcadio's resources, finding someone as insignificant as him within the city wouldn't be particularly difficult.

Perhaps he needed to leave the Navia Kingdom altogether, or even the East Blue.

As these grim thoughts raced through Kuro's mind, he failed to notice that someone had been following him. When he entered a deserted alleyway and turned a corner, a blunt object struck the back of his head with tremendous force, knocking him unconscious.

Tony, who had been waiting for this moment while monitoring the Transponder Snail, caught Kuro's limp body before it hit the ground. With a sinister chuckle, he signaled to Edmond and Aramis, who had just arrived. The three men quickly hoisted Kuro up and carried him away from the scene.

When Kuro regained consciousness, he found himself in an unfamiliar courtyard. The lingering stench in the air told him he was still somewhere near the slums of Kalmar City.

He lay face-down on the ground, the back of his head throbbing with pain. Rather than immediately getting up, he cautiously surveyed his surroundings. Two oil lamps illuminated the courtyard, but their dim, yellowish light barely pushed back the darkness that engulfed most of the space.

"Get up. Stop playing dead," said a vaguely familiar voice, causing Kuro to freeze.

Slowly raising his head, Kuro first saw a pair of crossed legs, then the familiar face above them.

"S-Stolt?" Kuro's expression was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and fear of the unknown.

The Stolt—or rather, William—before him was completely different from Kuro's previous impressions. Gone was the impulsiveness and defiance, replaced by a composure that Kuro found deeply unsettling.

"Welcome to our group, Kuro," William rose from his chair and gestured toward him with open hands.

At his signal, figures emerged from the shadows in the corners of the courtyard—Edmond, Aramis, Tony, Sherlock, and others, each with a different expression on their face.

Kuro glanced at the assembled group and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," William smiled, revealing his teeth, "that we're on the same side now."

"You killed Hayreddin..."

William's words made Kuro's face drain of color. He hastily interrupted, "Don't talk nonsense!"

Tony laughed maliciously, and his amusement infected the others—Edmond, Aramis, and Sherlock all joined in with laughter of ambiguous meaning. Kuro grew increasingly uncomfortable. He couldn't understand how the seemingly reckless young man he had known as Stolt had suddenly become so enigmatic, or how he knew about Hayreddin's death.

"Why lie to me? We're in this together now. Besides, you should be thanking me for helping you kill Hayreddin and get your revenge," William said calmly.

Kuro's eyes widened. Though his psychological resilience was somewhat lacking due to his limited life experiences, his mind was quite agile. Connecting the string of clues, he had already begun to suspect what William now openly admitted—that Hayreddin's death at his hands had been orchestrated, and the mastermind was standing right in front of him.

Realizing that his mistaken killing of Hayreddin might force him to spend the rest of his life in hiding, a wave of fury surged through Kuro.

With a low growl, he sprang from the ground like a wounded animal and lunged at William, who appeared completely unprepared.

Smack!

As if he had foreseen the attack, William simply raised his right arm, forming his hand into a claw that perfectly intercepted Kuro's charge. It was as if Kuro had deliberately run straight into William's grasp, and now found himself with William's hand clamped around his throat.

The combined force of Kuro's momentum and William's strength made Kuro feel as though his windpipe was about to be crushed.

William held Kuro by the neck, his Robust talent and the arm strength developed through years of swordsmanship allowing him to effortlessly lift Kuro until his feet dangled above the ground.

The friendliness had vanished from William's face. With cold eyes fixed on the struggling Kuro, he said slowly, "You can't afford to provoke Barbarossa and Arcadio, and you certainly can't afford to provoke me!"

William threw Kuro to the ground. Clutching his throat and coughing repeatedly, Kuro's eyes darted around as he assessed the situation.

He had calmed down somewhat. Not only was the suddenly mysterious "Stolt" before him, but the courtyard also contained several of his accomplices. Fighting would only end badly for him.

"I thought helping you kill Hayreddin with your own hands would make you appreciate my goodwill," William crouched in front of Kuro, his face once again friendly.

"I didn't kill Hayreddin. You framed me!" Kuro protested.

"No," William wagged his finger. "You killed Hayreddin. He humiliated you in front of the entire crew, and if I'm not mistaken, you must have told Arcadio about Barbarossa's private embezzlement of the spoils. Then, shortly before the incident, you were seen leaving a nearby bar in plain sight."

"The motive, the timing—it all fits. You must have harbored a grudge against Hayreddin and worried that Barbarossa would punish you again for being an informant, possibly by letting Hayreddin do the job. So, under the influence of alcohol, you decided to kill Hayreddin and flee from the Red-Beard Pirates. Perhaps, to divert suspicion, you even deliberately planted false evidence at the scene," William analyzed with a straight face.

Kuro's face turned ashen. What terrified him most was that William hadn't mentioned two crucial details: the pistol he had left at the crime scene and the witness who had seen him.

Even without these elements, what William had outlined was damning enough. A pirate ship wasn't a courtroom, and Barbarossa was no impartial judge. The logical chain William had constructed would be sufficient for Barbarossa to name Kuro as the prime suspect. No further evidence would be needed for Barbarossa to sentence Kuro to death.

(Note: In Chapter 59 "Confrontation," Colonel Roy was "admiring" nude [censored] female portraits. Thanks to reader Tianwang for the reminder. This has been corrected.)

Chapter 63

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 63: The Battle's Prelude

The last sliver of hope Kuro clung to was the idea of confessing everything to Barbarossa, exposing Stolt's true nature.

But that hope was quickly shattered by William.

"You might think that telling Barbarossa everything that happened here will save your life," William said with a faint, amused grin, "but what exactly are you going to tell him? That a reckless rookie crewmate is actually a cunning schemer? Between that and the claim that you acted out of revenge, which do you think is more believable?

"And most importantly," he continued, his tone growing colder, "everyone on the ship knows that you and I don't get along. Our relationship is worse than yours with any other crewmember. Any accusations you make against me won't hold water."

William leaned in closer, gently patting Kuro's dazed face. "And if Barbarossa decides to kill me over a mere suspicion, what makes you think he'll spare you, the one with even greater suspicion? I might 'possibly' die, but you? You will 'definitely' die."

Kuro's face turned ashen, but he wasn't entirely without hope. He stared at William, knowing that the man wouldn't have gone to such lengths just to kill him.

"What... what do you want from me?" Kuro asked hoarsely.

"I already told you," William replied. "We're in this together now. You and I are tied to the same fate. And right now, you have only two choices: life or death."

"As long as Barbarossa is alive, he'll keep digging into this. You'll never be safe. But if he dies..."

Kuro's eyes widened in shock. "You're planning to kill Barbarossa?"

William didn't answer directly. Instead, he smiled and patted Kuro's shoulder in a seemingly friendly manner, his voice carrying a persuasive undertone. "If we settle for the status quo, we'll remain nobodies forever. Your life, your future, all of it is worth less than a single word from someone more powerful. A man who is less capable than you can humiliate you in public, and you don't even dare to fight back. Why?"

"Because Hayreddin is closer to Barbarossa. And Barbarossa is the king of the ship. To him, you're less important than Hayreddin. That's why you didn't even consider resisting him."

Kuro was a smart man. Logically, he knew William's words were meant to manipulate him. But emotionally, he couldn't help but resonate with them.

He despised the pirates, yet Arcadio Buendía had forced him to join their ranks. Whenever he had hinted at wanting to leave, no one cared. Worse, the trading company had grown impatient with his attitude and began subtly threatening him.

Even when Kuro was humiliated, Arcadio's indifference was evident.

As William said, Barbarossa and Arcadio didn't care about people like him. If Kuro died, they'd simply pick another unlucky soul from the trading company to take his place—just as they had done with Kuro.

Perhaps because he already felt cornered, Kuro subconsciously began justifying his potential "betrayal."

Defying Barbarossa's authority was no small feat. Kuro's mind wrestled with itself, trying to convince him to accept William's perspective.

William remained silent, watching as Kuro lowered his head slightly, his face shifting between uncertainty and resolve. It was clear he was locked in an intense internal struggle.

Kuro's thoughts raced, considering the implications of working with William. He knew William must need his help for something, and he wanted to negotiate terms. But the events of the night, combined with the oppressive atmosphere, made him hesitate. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with weakness. "I don't want to be a pirate."

"You have to remain a pirate, and you must return to the ship," William said firmly. "Small fry don't get to make choices because no one cares what they think. Right now, you're a small fry. But if you help me take Barbarossa's place, you'll become invaluable to Arcadio. Then, you'll have the power to choose—whether to stay a pirate or clean your slate and live a life on land. I'll even help you.

"You'll come to see that I'm different from Barbarossa and Arcadio. I share power with those who prove themselves, and I treat talented people well."

"But how can I return to the ship? Like you said, I'm a suspect."

"I'll provide you with an alibi," William replied coolly.

No one on the ship would believe that William would vouch for someone he had a known grudge against.

Kuro's expression wavered. In the end, he was swayed by William's words. However, he hesitated for a moment, recalling the scene at the crime site. Finally, he admitted, "When I left, there was a Marine at the scene. I'm worried he might reveal the truth."

"Don't worry," William said, smoothing Kuro's disheveled hair. "That Marine is one of mine."

A night of relentless blows could break even the hardest of hearts. Kuro, a young man filled with frustration and defeat, was no exception.

The revelation that even the Marines were part of William's plan left Kuro stunned and fearful. He looked up at William, a hint of dread in his eyes.

"...I understand," he murmured.

The chaos of Kalmar City's slums was epitomized by the events surrounding Hayreddin's death.

Had Hayreddin not failed to return to the ship that night—or the next day—Barbarossa and Reis might not have noticed anything amiss. It was only when they realized he was missing that they sent men to search for him. Without their intervention, the bodies of Hayreddin and the unfortunate drunkard might have rotted in the alley for days before the locals stumbled upon them.

Now, the Red-Beard Pirates' captain, Barbarossa; his first mate, Reis; their newly promoted chief navigator, William (alias Stolt); the quartermaster and Buendía Trading Company representative, Kuro; the helmsman; the ship's doctor; and several veteran pirates who had discovered Hayreddin's corpse—all the ship's notable officers and leaders—had gathered at the crime scene.

The narrow alley was packed with menacing pirates, and Barbarossa had stationed guards at the entrance to ensure no one entered or left without his permission.

All eyes were on the ship's doctor, Wood, a stocky, balding man, as he examined Hayreddin's body.

"...His limbs and head suffered severe blunt force trauma, but the fatal wound is the gunshot to his abdomen," Wood reported gravely to Barbarossa.

Hearing that the fatal wound was a gunshot, Kuro's expression briefly faltered. He instinctively glanced at William, clearly beginning to tie his fate to the man who had orchestrated everything.

Chapter 64

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 64: Framing the Blame

Compared to William, a cunning and experienced schemer, Kuro was still far too green. Whether it was life experience, psychological resilience, or even acting skills, he was completely outmatched.

William didn't even spare Kuro a glance. Like the other members of the Red-Beard Pirates, he wore a solemn expression, his brow slightly furrowed as he kept his eyes fixed on the ship's doctor, Wood. He occasionally glanced between Hayreddin's corpse and Barbarossa, as if waiting for the captain's orders.

If not for the conversation he had with William that night, Kuro would never have suspected that the man standing before him, acting so composed, was actually the mastermind behind Hayreddin's death.

Barbarossa approached Hayreddin's body, unbothered by the filth on the ground, and knelt slowly. His fiercely bearded face twisted with uncontrollable grief. The bond between Barbarossa and his brothers, Hayreddin and Reis, was undeniably deep. It wasn't just the blood ties—they had fought side by side, rising from nothing and supporting each other through thick and thin.

Hayreddin's death had been a painful struggle, and even now, his corpse lay with eyes wide open in fury. Barbarossa gently closed his brother's eyes, while Wood crouched beside him, handing over a small piece of black cloth.

Barbarossa unfolded the crumpled cloth, which was covered in creases. Wood explained, "I found this in Hayreddin's hand. It appears to be part of the killer's headscarf, torn off during the struggle."

The black headscarf bore a peculiar pirate emblem. Such habits were not uncommon among pirates—the larger the crew, the stronger their sense of pride and unity. Pirates often adorned their clothes, scarves, or even their bodies with their crew's emblem.

The headscarf in Barbarossa's hands displayed a bizarre logo: a duck's head wearing a tall chef's hat, staring expressionlessly forward, with a knife and a trident crossed behind it.

This somewhat comical emblem was, however, infamous in the East Blue, as it belonged to the Cook Pirates!

"Zeff..." Barbarossa growled through gritted teeth, uttering the name of the renowned pirate who was nearly his equal in the East Blue.

Barbarossa handed the headscarf to Reis, who examined it before passing it along to the other crew members.

As the headscarf made its rounds, Barbarossa stood, his voice brimming with murderous intent as he commanded, "Find them. Find the Cook Pirates' base!"

Logically, the Cook Pirates had recently clashed with the Red-Beard Pirates and suffered a humiliating defeat, with their captain Zeff narrowly escaping death at the hands of a no-name pirate from Barbarossa's crew. Retaliation wasn't out of the question.

Of course, some of the Red-Beard Pirates present in the alley suspected that this might be a setup. However, judging by the expressions of Barbarossa and Reis, it was clear they weren't looking for rational analysis—they wanted vengeance.

They were pirates, not detectives or law enforcement. They didn't need to carefully unravel the truth piece by piece. Whether the Cook Pirates were guilty or not didn't matter; they could always capture them first and interrogate them later.

Barbarossa swept his gaze across his crew. William, after examining the headscarf, wore an angry expression. Though Barbarossa had briefly considered taking out his anger on William for Hayreddin's death, he ultimately dismissed the idea. With Hayreddin gone, William was now the only navigator on the ship. Blaming him would only alienate the crew, as everyone understood that William couldn't be held responsible. After all, he had stood up for the crew's reputation and even Reis himself.

Kuro, on the other hand, lacked William's composure. His guilt made him visibly uneasy. Barbarossa, however, didn't connect Kuro to Hayreddin's death. He assumed Kuro's nervousness stemmed from the impending conflict between the Red-Beard Pirates and the Cook Pirates.

After all, Kuro had always been aligned with Arcadio Buendía, who disapproved of Barbarossa causing trouble in Kalmar City, especially on such a large scale.

A war between two of the East Blue's most notorious pirate crews was certainly the kind of trouble Arcadio wouldn't tolerate!

Once everyone had left the alley, even Hayreddin's body carried away by Reis, Barbarossa called out for Kuro to stay behind.

Despite the reassuring glance William gave him, Kuro was still trembling with fear.

"I know you're one of Arcadio's men, and I know Arcadio doesn't want me stirring up trouble in Kalmar City," Barbarossa said to the pale-faced Kuro. "But now my brother is dead here, in this city. I demand justice. Tell your master that the killer of Hayreddin must die! Even if I have to turn this city upside down, I'll drag out the Cook Pirates. No one can stop me!"

"Barbarossa said that?"

In the finance minister's mansion, Arcadio asked, his tone cold.

Kuro could feel Arcadio's barely restrained anger and stood rigidly, replying obediently, "Yes, sir."

"What arrogance, saying he'll turn the city upside down?" Arcadio finally lost his temper, hurling his teacup across the room. Scalding tea splashed onto Kuro's foot, causing him to wince.

Arcadio paced back and forth, his usual composed demeanor replaced by fury. "That brainless fool!" he spat.

Barbarossa's message was clear: he wanted revenge and didn't care about his tacit understanding with Arcadio. Arcadio could reprimand him later, but for now, he'd have to clean up Barbarossa's mess.

After a moment, Arcadio paused, a thought occurring to him. "Hayreddin is dead. Does the ship still have a navigator?"

"There's one," Kuro replied calmly. "A young man named Stolt. Seems like an honest type."

In truth, whether it was William's behavior on the ship or the side of him Kuro had seen in private, "honest" was the last word anyone would use to describe him.

Arcadio stopped pacing, deep in thought.

The Red-Beard Pirates mobilized nearly their entire crew, splitting into groups and spreading through the slums. Armed to the teeth, they turned the chaotic district into even more of a madhouse. Barbarossa's and the crew's notorious reputations ensured that, while many of the locals weren't exactly saints themselves, none dared to retaliate openly despite the harassment.

Returning from Arcadio's mansion, Kuro had intended to stay aboard the ship. But a subtle signal from William prompted him to join the search. Together with William and Reis, he scoured the slums for any trace of the Cook Pirates.

Meanwhile, Zeff was calmly preparing a meal. In the adjacent room, separated by a single wall, his crew clamored loudly for food, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the slums outside.

(Is someone's account hacked? Why are they posting weird comments in the review section? Scary!)

Chapter 65

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 65: The Moment of War

The slums of Kalmar City were a chaotic and disorderly place, teeming with all sorts of characters. Despite the Red-Beard Pirates numbering over a hundred, they were spread too thin to cover such a vast area, especially after splitting into smaller teams.

William, along with Reis, Kuro, and four veteran pirates, searched the streets together.

They had ventured deep into the slums. Narrow streets were lined with shabby young men in tattered clothing, their dirty faces wary as they watched the pirates. When questioned, they answered every inquiry without hesitation, clearly intimidated.

While the crew's thuggish questioning continued, Reis absentmindedly scanned the surroundings with a distracted gaze. They had been wandering the slums for half a day, and as the sky began to darken, their vigilance inevitably waned.

On one side of the street, the window of a two-story building was slowly pushed open. Reis's previously unfocused eyes suddenly sharpened.

A metallic clinking sound followed, one so familiar that Reis reacted instinctively before his mind could catch up. He dove to the side, shouting, "Watch out!"

But his warning came a second too late. As soon as his voice rang out, flashes of fire erupted from the windows on both sides of the street, followed by the rapid crackle of gunfire.

Two of the veteran pirates immediately collapsed to the ground, their blood quickly soaking into the dirt beneath them.

The remaining pirates scrambled for cover. Meanwhile, the young men who had been answering questions moments ago suddenly tore off their disguises. Lifting their shirts to reveal flintlock pistols tucked at their waists, they drew dual pistols and fired at the distracted pirates, who had their backs turned to the ambush.

The two pirates who had narrowly survived the initial volley jerked violently as bullets pierced their vital points, blood spurting from their wounds before they joined their fallen comrades.

Two of the young ambushers didn't target the lower-ranking pirates but instead aimed directly at Reis. However, Reis wasn't like the others. With a quick swing of his scimitar, he slashed through the wall of a nearby building, rolling his massive frame inside to escape the gunmen's line of sight.

As the breeze dispersed the lingering gun smoke, only the group of young gunmen, William, and Kuro remained standing in the street.

The young men, some excited and others nervous, turned their eyes to William. The two who had missed their shots at Reis glanced toward the direction he had disappeared, eager to give chase.

William didn't say a word. He shook his head at the two, then made a slicing motion across his throat with his hand. The young gunmen, all hailing from Red Leaf Village, obeyed him without question. They began finishing off the injured pirates with precise, ruthless strikes.

These young gunmen, brimming with youthful ambition, were deeply tied to William. Their families and friends worked in the village's brewery, which William had kept running despite losing his smuggling network. They revered and feared him, and their loyalty was solidified by their connection to his Threads of Fate.

After ensuring no survivors were left, one of the young gunmen approached William and handed him a katana.

William removed the scimitar from his waist and replaced it with the katana. Then, he slowly walked toward the hole Reis had made in the wall.

Inside the building, Reis remained on high alert. When he saw William step into view, he instinctively began to warn him to be careful. But before he could speak, he realized something was off.

Reis was a sharp man, his keen attention to detail belying his hulking frame. Standing in the broken wall, William's expression was calm—devoid of the youthful impulsiveness and energy he often displayed on the ship. Outside, the gunfire had also gone silent.

"Stolt?" Reis narrowed his eyes, watching as William stepped into the room. The scimitar in Reis's hand subtly shifted, its tip now pointing toward William.

"Reis... First Mate," William said with a grin, "put down your blade. For the sake of you bringing me aboard the ship, I'll give you a quick death."

After speaking, William glanced to the side.

Reis, ever cautious, followed his gaze. Standing at the doorway was Kuro, pale-faced and visibly uneasy.

Kuro guarded the exit but didn't move further. If Hayreddin had been the hidden hand pulling Kuro aboard William's ship, then killing Reis was Kuro's true initiation. Only by participating in Reis's death could Kuro prove his loyalty to William and fully commit to opposing Barbarossa.

Yet Kuro's hesitation was evident. The longstanding authority of Barbarossa and Reis still weighed heavily on him.

"Traitor," Reis spat through gritted teeth. He hadn't pieced together the entirety of William's plan, but the situation was clear enough: Kuro, representing the Buendía family, had somehow joined forces with the scheming William.

William, meanwhile, had shifted his focus back to Reis. His steps were light, his left hand resting on the sheathed katana at his waist. He appeared completely at ease, his body relaxed, even his facial muscles loose.

Reis didn't know what William was planning, but he resolved to kill him regardless.

When William stepped within striking distance, Reis lunged forward, raising his scimitar high with both hands and bringing it down with all his might. Both men knew that if this strike landed, William would be cleaved in two.

The force of the swing sent a gust of wind past William, blowing his hair back. Kuro's eyes widened in anticipation of a gruesome scene, but what he expected didn't happen.

William's eyes sharpened in an instant, his previously relaxed muscles tensing like coiled steel. His expression transformed, becoming cold and resolute. He moved faster than Reis, his movements smaller yet more precise. With a slight diagonal step forward, William drew his katana and slashed upward in one fluid motion, simultaneously evading Reis's attack and countering with lethal precision.

Reis's scimitar missed its mark, carving a deep gash into the floor and sending a shockwave that caused the already damaged wall behind William to collapse with a crash.

Without sparing a glance at the fallen wall or Reis, William flicked his blade, sending droplets of blood flying off the edge, before calmly sheathing it.

Koshiro had once called William a prodigy in swordsmanship—not because of his raw strength, but because of his ability to develop his own style and philosophy in such a short time.

As the blade clicked back into its sheath, thin lines of blood appeared on Reis's wrists.

Reis's face contorted in pain as he tried to lift his weapon, only to find his hands unresponsive. A moment later, his scimitar, along with his severed hands, clattered to the ground.

Kuro's mouth hung open in shock. When he looked at William again, he found the young man staring coldly at him, sending a shiver down his spine. William's display was clearly meant to assert dominance.

Despite his injuries, Reis lunged at William in a desperate attempt to fight back. But with his hands gone, he was no match. William sidestepped his charge and tripped him, sending his massive frame crashing to the ground.

Reis, pale and bleeding profusely from his severed wrists, began crawling toward the collapsed wall.

"Barbarossa..." he gasped. All he wanted now was to warn his cousin. With Hayreddin and himself gone, how could Barbarossa survive William's schemes?

Kuro, clutching a dagger, approached the struggling Reis. After a hesitant glance at William's indifferent expression, he knelt down and slit Reis's throat.

Ignoring Reis's final struggles, William stepped outside. As he reached the street, a cold raindrop landed on his face. Moments later, a torrential downpour began.

Outside Kalmar City, on a hill overlooking the private docks, three men stood in the wind and rain, their eyes fixed on the distant pirate ship.

"Is everyone gone?"

"Only a couple of guards left."

"William said the captain's quarters are at the stern."

Tony, crouching, crushed his rain-soaked cigarette and tossed it aside. Glancing at Edmond and Aramis, he slowly stood up. "What are we waiting for? Let's move!"

The mountain wind howled, whipping their raincoats as they prepared to act.

Chapter 66

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 66: A Rainy Night

"This rain... it couldn't have come at a better time," William murmured, tilting his head back to gaze at the sky.

The young men from Red Leaf Village had already dispersed, leaving William alone in the empty street. His scimitar was back at his side, and the rain poured relentlessly, washing over the heap of corpses scattered around him.

Kuro approached cautiously from behind, his steps light but his unease evident. During the earlier fight between William and Reis, Kuro had hesitated, unsure of what to do. He hadn't expected William to be so powerful, capable of severely injuring Reis in such a short time.

William paid no attention to Kuro. Instead, he walked into the rain, stopping in front of a scimitar discarded on the ground. With a flick of his foot, he sent the blade into his hand.

Returning to the visibly confused Kuro, William gave him a faint smile. "So, will you do it yourself, or should I?"

Kuro opened his mouth but didn't speak. His mind raced. Though William's words were vague, Kuro was quick-witted enough to grasp his meaning in an instant.

Reis was dead, yet both William and Kuro were unharmed. It would be hard to explain such a scenario.

Caught off guard, Kuro stumbled back a step as William suddenly quickened his pace, closing the distance between them. Pressing Kuro against a support beam, William covered his mouth with one hand while driving the scimitar into his abdomen with the other.

Kuro's eyes widened in shock, but William whispered calmly, "Relax. Don't move."

The blade pierced through Kuro's stomach. Only when William was certain the wound was deep enough did he slowly withdraw the weapon and release Kuro.

As Kuro slid weakly to the ground, leaning against the beam, his face pale, William grinned. "Looks bad, doesn't it? But don't worry—I avoided your vital organs. You'll live."

William wasn't lying. With his mastery of swordsmanship, inflicting a non-lethal wound was child's play.

Kuro glanced at William, unsure if the stab was purely for show or if it carried an element of punishment.

Squatting down, William briefly discussed their alibi with Kuro before watching him stagger away, clutching the wall for support. Once Kuro disappeared from view, William turned the scimitar on himself. With a deliberate motion, he slashed diagonally from his left chest to his right rib, wincing as the blade bit into his flesh. He then made two additional cuts on his right arm before tossing the bloodied weapon into the rain, letting the downpour wash it clean.

Kuro eventually stumbled into the group led by Barbarossa, the captain of the Red-Beard Pirates. Seeing Barbarossa's towering, shaggy head, Kuro sighed in relief before collapsing unconscious.

Barbarossa's crew scrambled to carry Kuro into a nearby building. The ship's doctor, Wood, who had been accompanying Barbarossa, immediately stepped forward to examine Kuro's injuries.

Although William's stab had avoided Kuro's vital organs, the blood loss from his trek through the rain had left him pale and shivering. The performance was convincing—he truly looked as though he were on the brink of death.

Barbarossa's expression darkened as he approached. Thinking of Reis, who had been with Kuro, he barked at Wood, "Wake him up!"

Wood dared not defy Barbarossa's orders. Even as a doctor, he wouldn't risk showing defiance in front of such a fearsome man. Obediently, he pressed on several pressure points on Kuro's body. Kuro groaned in pain before slowly opening his eyes.

Barbarossa wasted no time. "What happened to you?" he demanded.

"We were ambushed," Kuro rasped. "Several of our men were shot dead before they even saw the enemy. I was at the back of the group, near the street corner, when someone snuck up and stabbed me. I managed to kill him while he was distracted, which gave me a chance to escape."

Barbarossa frowned at the mention of Kuro fleeing but said nothing. He knew Kuro was a representative of the Buendía family and not entirely under his command. In such uncertain circumstances, it wasn't surprising that Kuro hadn't risked his life to fight.

"And Reis?" Barbarossa pressed.

"The first mate and Stolt moved quickly. They took cover in a nearby building and avoided the initial gunfire. But after that... I don't know what happened."

Barbarossa's heart sank. Without hesitation, he called for his crew. Despite Kuro's injuries, he ordered him to lead the way back to the ambush site.

As they walked, Barbarossa asked, "Was it the Cook Pirates?"

Recalling William's warning, Kuro avoided placing direct blame. "The attackers didn't have any clear markings from the Cook Pirates, so I can't say for sure."

When they arrived at the scene, Barbarossa ignored the corpses littering the street and headed straight for the building with the collapsed wall. Inside, his eyes immediately fell on Reis's mutilated body.

Crack!

A faint noise came from behind a sofa. Hatcheson and another crewman, Harden, who had followed Barbarossa into the room, tensed up and cautiously approached the source of the sound.

Behind the sofa, they found William lying on the floor, his face pale. His left hand loosely gripped a pistol, which was pointed at Hatcheson. Blood from the wounds on his chest and arm pooled beneath him.

William gave a weak, bitter smile and lowered the pistol. "You're finally here..."

Barbarossa, who had been silently staring at Reis's corpse, stormed over. With a single motion, he flipped the sofa aside, his crimson, one-eyed gaze locking onto William. "Where did the attackers go?" he demanded coldly.

Hatcheson and Harden shivered at their captain's fury. It was the first time they had seen Barbarossa so enraged.

William, despite having prepared a web of lies, found himself unable to use any of them. Instead, he feigned weakness and replied, "I heard them heading east..."

Barbarossa didn't waste another second on William. Striding out into the street, he barked orders to his men. "Wood, stay here and tend to Kuro and Stolt. Everyone else, follow me!"

At that moment, in a shabby room within the slums, Zeff leaned back in his chair, his legs crossed on the table. He watched with satisfaction as his crew devoured the meal he had prepared.

For Zeff, a chef-turned-captain, the greatest joy wasn't the gold and treasure from raids but moments like these, when others appreciated his cooking.

The members of the Cook Pirates were rowdy as usual, their laughter filling the cramped space. Despite their surroundings, the atmosphere was warm and lively.

Bang!

The door suddenly burst open, letting in a gust of cold wind and rain that dampened the room's cheerful mood.

Several crew members near the door shivered and glared at the drenched figure who had barged in. "Close the door already!"

The rain-soaked pirate ignored their complaints, scanning the room anxiously. Spotting Zeff, he rushed over.

Before Zeff could ask what was going on, the man blurted out in a panic, "Captain, I just got word—the Red-Beard Pirates are combing the slums looking for us!"

Chapter 67

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 67: The Devil's Tempest Kick

The moment the Cook Pirate crew member finished speaking, Zeff stood up abruptly. The very act of his movement caused the entire room to tremble.

Before anyone could react, the ceiling above them suddenly shattered, and a crimson shadow crashed down from above.

From outside the building, one could see that the crimson shadow had split the entire roof in two, directly cleaving the house where Zeff and his men were gathered.

Several Cook Pirates, unable to dodge in time, were struck by the falling mass. Blood sprayed from their mouths as they collapsed, incapacitated. Only then did the others in the room get a clear view of what had attacked them.

It was a massive bundle of bright red hair, as thick as a grown man's waist. One end of the hair extended outside the building, while the other end, hardened and heavy as iron under some mysterious power, had created a crater in the ground where it struck.

The hair writhed like a monstrous serpent, slowly retracting toward the street outside. Along the way, it coiled around several Cook Pirates, lifting them off the ground like prey caught by a greedy python, attempting to drag them away.

The captured pirates screamed and struggled as their comrades rushed forward, hacking and slashing at the crimson hair with axes and swords. But every strike produced only the sound of metal clashing against metal. All they managed to cut were a few stray strands, failing to rescue their companions.

Zeff, followed by his officers, stepped through the gap left by the crimson hair and emerged onto the street. There, Barbarossa and several of his Red-Beard Pirates stood, their eyes gleaming with hostility.

One by one, more Cook Pirates emerged from the damaged building. Although they outnumbered Barbarossa's group, the Red-Beard Pirates remained unfazed. Barbarossa's forces were fewer in number because they had split up earlier, but the men he brought with him were his most elite crew members.

Hatcheson, one of Barbarossa's men, pulled out a flask of strong liquor. Taking a swig, he passed it to his companion Harden. The fiery liquid burned as it went down, dispelling the chill of the rain and the fear in their hearts.

The Red-Beard Pirates were one of the most formidable pirate groups in the East Blue, and those standing beside Barbarossa were his finest warriors. Despite being outnumbered ten to one, they hesitated only briefly before letting out a battle cry and charging at the Cook Pirates.

The Cook Pirates, though confused about the cause of the conflict, were no less fierce. Under the leadership of their officers, they counterattacked with equal ferocity.

Zeff stood with his arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold with cold detachment. The Red-Beard Pirates were clearly at a disadvantage in numbers. After a brief clash, they began to falter and retreat. Seeing this, Barbarossa activated his Devil Fruit ability, attempting to turn the tide.

It was at this moment that Zeff finally moved.

With a burst of speed, Zeff leapt over the heads of the combatants, his leg swinging down like a battle axe toward the crimson serpent of hair that Barbarossa had summoned.

Zeff's moniker, "Red-Leg," was earned through his unparalleled mastery of leg-based combat. Anyone struck by his kicks would suffer broken bones and ruptured organs, their blood staining his legs red. His strength was such that he could shatter boulders and leave imprints on steel. Even though Barbarossa's hair was as hard as iron under his Devil Fruit's power, it was no match for Zeff's devastating kick. With a single strike, the crimson hair was sent flying.

"Barbarossa!"

"Red-Leg!"

The two captains locked eyes, their mutual hatred palpable. Barbarossa blamed Zeff for the deaths of his two brothers, while Zeff seethed with anger over Barbarossa's unprovoked attack, which had claimed the lives of several of his crew members.

Barbarossa swung his massive scimitar at Zeff. Standing over two meters tall, Barbarossa was built like a bear, his weapon proportionally larger than those wielded by ordinary men. The blade sliced through the air with a menacing whistle, the force of the swing sending raindrops stinging against Zeff's face.

Zeff nimbly flipped out of the scimitar's path, but Barbarossa wasn't finished. The hair on his head, chin, and even the backs of his hands suddenly grew at an alarming rate, twisting into ropes of varying thickness. These living tendrils lashed out at Zeff like whips.

The hair, imbued with the power of Barbarossa's Devil Fruit, struck the ground with enough force to send dirt and debris flying, leaving deep gouges in the earth. Zeff's legs became a blur as he deflected the attacks, each collision producing a dull, metallic sound like iron rods clashing.

However, no matter how skilled Zeff was, he couldn't keep up indefinitely. Barbarossa's hair continued to multiply, forcing Zeff onto the defensive. Eventually, a thick whip of hair struck Zeff in the side, sending him crashing into a nearby house. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he hit the ground.

The Cook Pirates gasped in alarm, while the Red-Beard Pirates cheered, their morale surging.

Barbarossa, scimitar in hand, strode toward the building where Zeff had landed. Just as he reached the entrance, a crimson blur shot out from within.

Reacting instinctively, Barbarossa activated his ability, causing his hair to grow and tangle into a thick barrier in front of him.

But Zeff, his face bloodied and his expression fierce, was already in mid-air. His right leg, glowing red-hot, slammed into the wall of hair.

Barbarossa's lone eye widened as he realized what was happening. Rain hissed and evaporated into steam as it struck Zeff's leg, which radiated intense heat. The hair, previously impervious to blades and axes, curled and burned under the scorching temperature.

"Barbarossa, I've prepared a special treat just for you! Try this—Devil's Tempest Kick!" Zeff roared, his blazing leg cutting through the hair and slamming into Barbarossa's chest.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as Barbarossa let out a pained howl. He was sent flying like a cannonball, tumbling across the street before coming to a stop.

For a moment, Barbarossa lay motionless. Then, with great effort, he pushed himself to his knees. Wiping his chin, he pulled away singed tufts of his beard, tossing them aside. The rain quickly extinguished the lingering flames.

Tearing off his shirt, Barbarossa revealed a gruesome burn on his chest, the flesh raw and blistered. Breathing heavily, he glared at Zeff, who stood in the ruined house, but made no move to attack.

Both captains were battered and bloodied, their crews gradually disengaging from the fight.

Hatcheson, Harden, and the other Red-Beard Pirates formed a protective circle around Barbarossa. When one of them tried to help him to his feet, he shoved them away roughly.

"Why didn't you finish me off, Zeff?" Barbarossa growled, his lone eye fixed on his rival.

He glanced at the charred strands of hair on the ground, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "What's the matter? Afraid to come out and face me?"

Zeff clutched his injured side, his expression dark. His Devil's Tempest Kick was a technique he had developed specifically to counter Barbarossa, using friction to generate heat and flames for added destructive power. However, the move was still incomplete. The sudden burst of heat had left his right leg aching, and the rain made it difficult to maintain the necessary temperature.

Now that Barbarossa was on guard, landing another clean hit would be far more challenging. Even without his Devil Fruit abilities, Barbarossa was a formidable opponent.

"Fall back to the ship. I'll cover you," Zeff ordered his crew.

"Captain!" his men protested.

"Don't argue!" Zeff snapped, his gaze hardening. He glanced at the bodies of his fallen crew members. "Get back to the ship. Once we're at sea, we'll settle this with that red-haired monster!"

Chapter 68

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 68: Betrayal

The private harbor outside Kalmar City was eerily silent as the Red-Beard Pirates' warship rested at its dock. On the pier, however, the faces of the gathered crew members were grim and tense.

Zeff and the Cook Pirates had managed to escape from Barbarossa and his men. That alone was frustrating enough. But upon returning to their ship, the Red-Beard Pirates were met with even worse news—their vessel had been attacked, and not a single crew member left behind to guard it had survived.

Barbarossa stormed up the gangplank to the deck, his face dark as a thundercloud. Several corpses lay sprawled on the deck, the remains of the men he had left to guard the ship.

Without sparing the bodies a glance, Barbarossa marched straight toward the captain's quarters at the rear of the ship. The pirates following behind him shivered involuntarily as they caught sight of their captain's murderous expression.

Moments later, a furious roar erupted from the captain's quarters—a sound like a cornered beast, wild and desperate.

William, staggering slightly as he followed a group of veteran pirates, arrived just in time to see the door to the captain's quarters wide open. Inside, Barbarossa stood in the center of the room, panting heavily. His usually imposing, fur-covered face was now a mix of rage and bewilderment.

The room was a disaster. Everything had been ransacked and deliberately destroyed. The once-luxurious carpet was shredded into strips and lay scattered across the floor, mingled with spilled wine and dirt, creating a filthy mess.

But William knew that the true source of Barbarossa's fury wasn't the material damage. It was the loss of critical items—navigation logs, the captain's journal, and treasure maps. These were the real treasures of the ship, and their theft had been orchestrated by none other than William himself, the traitor within their ranks.

Standing in the wreckage, Barbarossa looked utterly defeated. The once-confident and fearsome pirate, a terror of the East Blue, now appeared lost and broken. The stark contrast was almost enough to evoke William's pity—though, of course, it was nothing more than crocodile tears.

In just a few short days, Barbarossa had lost two of his most trusted lieutenants, Hayreddin and Reis, and now the vital information marking the locations of the crew's accumulated treasures had been stolen. If Hayreddin and Reis had fallen to the Cook Pirates, then who could have been responsible for this attack on the Red-Beard Pirates' warship?

Barbarossa felt as though he were being ensnared in a vast, invisible web. His Devil Fruit powers and formidable strength were useless against this unseen enemy. Like a beast caught in a hunter's trap, he was powerless against the cunning of human ingenuity.

A pirate, noticing Barbarossa's dazed expression, cautiously stepped forward and called out, "Captain?"

The sound snapped Barbarossa out of his trance. His expression twisted into one of rage as he suddenly swung his scimitar.

The unfortunate pirate stumbled back a few steps, looking at Barbarossa in confusion. A thin line of blood appeared across his throat, and moments later, he collapsed to the ground, lifeless. Blood pooled beneath his body, spreading across the deck.

The other crew members stared at the corpse, their expressions a mix of fear, confusion, and anger. Yet none of them dared to speak.

Even Hayreddin, with his notoriously violent temper, had rarely killed a subordinate without cause. Punishments, yes, but outright execution was almost unheard of. Barbarossa, once seen as a wise and capable leader who led his crew to victory after victory, now seemed unrecognizable.

The crew exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared to challenge their captain, who was clearly on the brink of losing his sanity.

William, too, feigned a look of fear, lowering his gaze to avoid drawing attention. Inwardly, however, his thoughts were focused on the burn wound on Barbarossa's chest, where his once-thick chest hair had been completely singed away.

"So, he's afraid of fire," William mused silently.

After killing the pirate, Barbarossa seemed slightly calmer. He knew that his immediate priority was to relocate the treasures marked in the stolen navigation logs. With Zeff having escaped to the sea, pursuing him would require the assistance of Arcadio and Roy.

However, Barbarossa was also painfully aware that he had created a mess. Arcadio and Roy were not his subordinates and would not follow his orders without question. If he wanted their help, he would have to offer something in return. If his years of accumulated treasure were plundered and he was left penniless, there was no chance that Arcadio and Roy would go out of their way to clean up his mess for free.

Barbarossa didn't even have time to meet with Arcadio in person to soothe his ally's concerns. Instead, he immediately ordered his crew to prepare to set sail. But before long, a crew member came running to report that the attackers hadn't just looted the captain's quarters—they had also sabotaged critical parts of the ship. Repairs would take at least several days.

Barbarossa's face darkened further, but there was nothing he could do. The commotion he had caused in the slums had already led to a lockdown in the royal city, with the harbor under heavy guard. Most of the ships docked there had already fled, making it impossible to seize a replacement vessel.

Left with no other options, Barbarossa contacted Arcadio, requesting his assistance in acquiring a merchant ship. When he set out to meet Arcadio, he brought Kuro along, as well as William—an unusual decision for him.

It was clear that Barbarossa understood his current position. Kuro, as Arcadio's man, had been injured because of Barbarossa's actions. By bringing William, who was also wounded, Barbarossa hoped to demonstrate that he hadn't intentionally neglected or betrayed Kuro.

For Barbarossa, who had always avoided allowing his crew to interact too closely with Arcadio, this was a significant concession. It also underscored William's growing importance to the crew. With both Hayreddin and Reis dead, William was now the only navigator left, making him indispensable.

The three of them arrived at the residence of the Minister of Finance. They were left waiting in the reception hall for what felt like an eternity. Just as Barbarossa's patience was wearing thin, Arcadio finally entered, accompanied by a group of sharp-eyed and well-armed guards.

Taking a seat, Arcadio glanced at the three bandaged pirates and let out a derisive chuckle. "What's this? Are you trying to play the victim and win my sympathy?"

Barbarossa's expression darkened. "I need your help to find a ship—"

Before he could finish, Arcadio cut him off brusquely. "I'm not one of your pathetic slave crew members who have to obey your every whim. You've already caused enough trouble with this mess you've made. I haven't even started holding you accountable! The conflict with the Cook Pirates? That's on you. Neither Roy nor I will lift a finger to help!"

Crash!

Barbarossa crushed the teacup in his hand, ignoring the scalding tea that splashed onto his skin. His single eye locked onto Arcadio, his beard trembling with suppressed rage.

Chapter 69

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 69: Old Friends

For a moment, William thought Barbarossa might strike. He knew that the series of devastating blows Barbarossa had suffered left the man brimming with fury, desperate for an outlet. Yet, despite teetering on the edge of madness, the hulking pirate restrained himself in the face of the seemingly frail Arcadio.

The conversation was clearly over. With a swift kick, Barbarossa overturned the tea table and stormed out, his anger palpable. He didn't even bother to acknowledge William or Kuro as he left.

William couldn't understand why Barbarossa had held back. Even though Arcadio was accompanied by a group of guards, a direct confrontation would likely have ended poorly for the frail minister, especially considering Barbarossa's strength, even in his injured state.

William didn't immediately follow Barbarossa. His hesitation caught Arcadio's attention, who glanced at him with mild curiosity.

Turning to Kuro, Arcadio saw him give a subtle nod of confirmation before addressing William. "So, you're Stolt?"

"Yes, sir," William replied obediently.

Arcadio's expression softened into one of satisfaction. "You're the ship's navigator, correct? That means you've received a decent education. Unlike the rest of the crew—those uncouth, disrespectful brutes—you should spend more time associating with people like Kuro. People with refinement, discipline, and respect for order."

William glanced at Kuro, who took a sip of tea and gave him a discreet smile. Turning back to Arcadio, William maintained his polite demeanor and repeated, "Yes, sir."

On a remote, long-abandoned island, a merchant ship had finally arrived, breaking the years of solitude.

Before the gangplank could even be lowered, Aramis leaped down from the bow of the ship, landing gracefully on the shore. He surveyed the surroundings briefly before pulling out a map from his coat and comparing it to the island's features.

Once the gangplank was in place, Edmond, Tony, and Sherlock joined him on the shore. Meanwhile, sailors and laborers disembarked from the ship, bustling about as they began their work.

The group of four didn't join in the manual labor. Instead, they huddled around the map, discussing their plan. After a brief exchange, Edmond and Tony took the lead, clearing a path, while Aramis and Sherlock followed, using the map to guide them deeper into the island.

The island was eerily quiet, save for the occasional call of a bird. Its isolation and rugged terrain—strewn with jagged rocks and overgrown with wild vegetation—made it an ideal hiding place for treasure. No wonder Barbarossa had chosen it as a stash for his loot.

After searching for hours, the group finally stumbled upon a hidden path in a shadowy, inconspicuous corner of the island. Following it, they found themselves standing before a natural cave entrance.

Except for Sherlock, who had grown up in a life of wealth and privilege, the others—Edmond, Aramis, and Tony—were visibly excited. So far, everything they had discovered matched the descriptions in Barbarossa's navigation logs.

Lighting a kerosene lamp he had brought along, Tony took the lead, entering the cave first. The narrow passage forced the others to follow single file. After walking for some time, Tony suddenly froze, blocking the way.

"What's wrong?" Edmond asked, giving Tony a nudge. Startled, Tony quickly stepped aside, allowing the others to see what lay ahead.

A massive, natural cavern opened up before them. But none of them had the presence of mind to marvel at its grandeur.

The cavern was filled with heavy wooden chests, stacked nearly to the ceiling. Some of the chests were so full that their lids wouldn't close, leaving their contents—gold coins and gemstones—spilling out in plain view. The light from the kerosene lamp reflected off the treasure, casting dazzling colors across the walls of the cave.

Sherlock, the son of a former guildmaster, was the first to snap out of his daze. He nudged Aramis and said, "Stop gawking. Let's get this stuff out of here."

"Yes, yes, of course," Tony stammered, rubbing his hands together in excitement. "It's all ours now!"

"No," Sherlock corrected him, casting a sidelong glance. "It all belongs to William."

Tony froze, forcing a grin. "Of course. But William isn't a stingy man. We've all contributed to this operation; he'll definitely share the spoils with us."

"I'm sure he will," Sherlock replied evenly. "But until William says otherwise, all of this belongs to Morgan."

Edmond, unable to contain his excitement, ran over to the chests and began prying them open one by one. Aramis, after giving Sherlock and Tony a long, thoughtful look, followed suit.

With the others distracted, Tony leaned closer to Sherlock, lowering his voice. "What's your problem? Are you deliberately trying to humiliate me?"

Tony's tone was anything but polite. With the Flash Gold Guild now defunct, Sherlock had lost much of his former influence. To Tony, Sherlock was little more than a hanger-on, someone who owed his current position entirely to William's favor.

In fact, if it weren't for William's protection, Tony would have long since bled Sherlock dry of his remaining wealth.

Sherlock, however, remained composed. He had grown accustomed to such shifts in attitude following his fall from grace. That was why the few words William had entrusted Edmond to relay to him had left such a deep impression.

"I'm simply reminding you to know your place," Sherlock said, not even bothering to look at Tony. "I don't know when you got the idea that you're on the same level as William, but trust me—it's better to hear this from me than to have William remind you himself."

"But I…" Tony began, only to be cut off.

"But what?" Sherlock interrupted. "This plan was William's. The main players in this operation were Edmond and Aramis. As for that brewery you're so proud of, don't forget—it was William's idea to establish it in the first place."

Tony's face turned red, then pale, as Sherlock continued, ignoring his reaction.

"And those young men back in Maple Leaf Village—do you really think they still follow you out of loyalty? They stick around because they believe you're part of William's crew. If William hadn't said otherwise, they'd have abandoned you long ago. When was the last time you visited the docks or the brewery? These days, the person they admire and respect isn't you—it's William. His strength, intelligence, and approachability have won them over."

Sherlock's voice grew colder. "And now, with Hayreddin and Reis dead, Barbarossa is next. You and I grew up hearing stories about the terror of the Red-Beard Pirates, but once William kills Barbarossa and takes his place as captain, who do you think those young men will pledge their loyalty to? What makes you think you can stand on equal footing with him?"

"William hasn't said anything like that…" Tony muttered weakly.

"That's because he doesn't see the need to. He assumes the people around him are smart enough to figure it out on their own. Apparently, he overestimated you."

Sherlock clapped Tony on the shoulder. "I'm only telling you this because of our past friendship, old friend."

The emphasis Sherlock placed on "old friend" carried a hint of sarcasm, revealing that he hadn't entirely forgiven Tony for his earlier behavior.

Chapter 70

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 70: The Calm Belt Venture

Due to William's unfamiliarity with the treasure locations as the newly appointed navigator, the Red-Beard Pirates were forced to rely on Barbarossa's memory to navigate. This resulted in several days of delay, and by the time they arrived at the island, the treasure had already been completely looted by Sherlock and his team.

Standing in the empty cavern, the pirates felt a chill run down their spines. The treasure wasn't just Barbarossa's—it was theirs too.

These riches were the fruits of years of bloodshed and toil on the high seas. Even though their collusion with the Marines and Arcadio had allowed them to live more comfortably than other pirates, every coin and gem in that treasure was still stained with the blood and sweat of the Red-Beard Pirates.

Barbarossa stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling of the cavern, lost in thought. The crew was restless, but no one dared disturb him. After all, they still vividly remembered what had happened to the last unfortunate soul who had dared interrupt their captain.

After a long silence, Barbarossa finally seemed to snap out of his daze. His voice was calm as he called out, "Stolt, come here."

William, who had been waiting on the outskirts of the group, stepped forward. Barbarossa spoke again, this time with a commanding tone. "We're heading to the Calm Belt."

William hesitated, unsure if he had heard correctly. "You mean... the Calm Belt?"

Nearby pirates who had overheard Barbarossa's words began murmuring among themselves, but a sharp glare from Barbarossa's single eye silenced them immediately.

It was only natural for William and the others to question such a decision. During his studies to learn navigation, William had read extensively about the geography of this world. Every book that mentioned the Calm Belt described it in terms that could be summed up in four words: extremely dangerous.

This region was the true graveyard of the seas.

The geography of this world was peculiar. The Red Line and the Grand Line divided the planet into four seas—East Blue, West Blue, North Blue, and South Blue. These two lines, which encircled the globe, severed the connections between the seas. The Grand Line's ability to act as a barrier was largely due to the Calm Belt.

William, whether in his previous life or his current one, wasn't a scholar and had little interest in delving into the mysteries of this world's bizarre geography. What he did know was that the Calm Belt encircled the Grand Line, forming two bands of sea where the wind never blew. For ships relying on sails, this was a death sentence.

But the lack of wind wasn't the only danger. The Calm Belt was home to countless sea monsters, creatures so massive that even the largest ships appeared to be mere toys in their eyes. These beasts, known as Sea Kings, made the Calm Belt a nightmare for anyone daring to traverse it.

The dangers were easy to imagine: a powerless sailing ship stranded in a vast, desolate sea with no food, no supplies, and no hope of rescue. Meanwhile, beneath the surface, countless Sea Kings lurked, waiting to strike.

The threats of starvation, lack of resources, and Sea Kings were more than enough to spell doom for any pirate crew.

Even though the Red-Beard Pirates were among the most formidable forces in the East Blue, venturing into the Calm Belt was tantamount to suicide. William understood this, and so did Barbarossa.

"It's not the Calm Belt itself," Barbarossa clarified, glancing at William. "We're heading to its outskirts. We're after a Devil Fruit."

Devil Fruit!

William's heartbeat quickened, though he maintained a façade of confusion. "A Devil Fruit? Do those really exist? Are they found in the Calm Belt?"

"I don't know where they grow," Barbarossa admitted. "But in the East Blue, the Calm Belt is the most likely place to encounter one."

William furrowed his brow, still feigning doubt.

Barbarossa's irritation was evident. While their destination was technically the outskirts of the Calm Belt, it wasn't much safer. Sea Kings occasionally ventured beyond the Calm Belt, and their presence in the surrounding waters could be just as catastrophic. The lack of human settlements and supply points in these areas further compounded the risks of such a voyage.

Barbarossa, sensing William's hesitation, begrudgingly offered an explanation. "In the Four Seas, every moment, there are pirates dreaming of entering the Grand Line and making their mark..."

He let out a low, mocking laugh, as if ridiculing those pirates for their naivety. "At the same time, in the Grand Line, every moment, there are pirates desperate to escape from that graveyard."

The allure of Pirate King Roger's treasure drew countless pirates into the Grand Line. Among them were fearless individuals willing to face any obstacle, but there were also many who quickly regretted their impulsive decisions.

The Marines' headquarters was located within the Grand Line, and the World Government's focus was largely concentrated there. The naval forces in the Grand Line were far stronger than those of the Four Seas combined. Pirates in the Grand Line not only had to contend with relentless Marine pursuit but also had to guard against betrayal and attacks from other pirate crews.

For pirates terrified by the Grand Line's harsh environment, crossing the Calm Belt to return to the "peaceful" Four Seas wasn't an unimaginable notion—especially for those lucky enough to have obtained wealth within the Grand Line.

For instance... a pirate crew fortunate enough to acquire a Devil Fruit.

A single Devil Fruit was worth 100 million Beli—and that was the minimum price. Few would be foolish enough to sell such a rare treasure for its base value. In the Four Seas, where Devil Fruits were little more than legends, their price could soar to astronomical levels.

"This season is when Sea King activity is at its lowest," Barbarossa explained with a sinister grin. "If any lucky bastards manage to escape the Grand Line via the Calm Belt, it'll be now. And they'll head for the East Blue!"

William nodded slowly, adding, "Because the East Blue is the weakest of the Four Seas. Everyone knows that. Any pirate crew capable of entering the Grand Line isn't weak. Even if they escape from the Grand Line, they'll still have overwhelming strength compared to the pirates and Marines of the East Blue."

Indeed, in the years to come, a fishman pirate crew with similar ambitions would prove William's statement true.    

Chapter 71

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 71: The New Recruit, Gin

"Even though the threat of Sea Kings is greatly reduced, it hasn't disappeared entirely. Crossing the Calm Belt still demands immense physical and mental effort. Pirates are at their weakest during this passage," Barbarossa said, his good hand instinctively rubbing the hilt of his sword as a sly grin spread across his face. "That's precisely the best time to strike them—and there's a good chance they'll have a Devil Fruit onboard."

Barbarossa's words had already attracted the attention of the surrounding crew. His voice grew louder as he spoke, eventually transforming into a rallying speech:

"When I first set sail and found myself in dire straits, it was in that region that I obtained a Devil Fruit, and it changed everything for me! That place is my lucky ground, and I believe that hasn't changed. If we can find another Devil Fruit there, we'll avenge Reis and Hayreddin, and reclaim everything we've lost!"

Barbarossa wasn't lying. When he, Reis, and Hayreddin first set sail, they had faced a situation similar to William's current predicament. They were pursued by a notorious veteran pirate and had fled all the way to the outskirts of the Calm Belt. Their fortunes turned when they encountered a pirate crew returning to the East Blue from the Grand Line, exhausted from their journey across the Calm Belt. The Red-Beard Brothers paid a heavy price but ultimately defeated the opposing crew and consumed a Devil Fruit.

With the powers granted by the fruit, Barbarossa rose to prominence, eventually becoming one of the most feared pirates in the East Blue and forging connections with Arcadio.

The circumstances back then were even more desperate than they were now, but Barbarossa had persevered. He believed that fate would favor him once again. If he could find another Devil Fruit and present this priceless treasure to Arcadio and Roy, they would be unable to refuse his request and would even offer him a hefty sum of cash in return.

With Arcadio and Roy's support, Barbarossa felt confident in his plan to hunt down Zeff and the Cook Pirates. Killing them would not only satisfy his need for revenge but also grant him access to their hoarded treasures. Solving these issues would lift him out of his current predicament—all he needed was a Devil Fruit.

Barbarossa gazed upward, as if he could see through the cavern ceiling to the sky above. He was convinced that he would find a Devil Fruit and continue his legendary tale in the East Blue.

William studied Barbarossa's determined expression and was certain that with just a little push, Barbarossa would inevitably turn against Arcadio.

William now understood why Barbarossa had managed to suppress his fury despite Arcadio's humiliations. Barbarossa believed he still had a fallback plan—the Devil Fruit was his final bargaining chip. With such a treasure worth billions of Beli, he thought he could mend the rift between them.

But what if he couldn't find the Devil Fruit? Or worse, what if Barbarossa discovered that even with the fruit, he couldn't repair their fractured alliance?

The Calm Belt stretched across the East Blue, vast and boundless. The odds of encountering a pirate crew fortunate enough to cross the Calm Belt safely—and for them to have a Devil Fruit—were slim.

Of course, slim odds weren't zero, so there was still a chance. It all depended on luck. But William detested relying on the fickle whims of fortune.

As William sailed toward the outskirts of the Calm Belt with Barbarossa, Gin was busy cleaning weapons at the Marine 16th Branch.

After brutally interrogating Ward for information, William had decided to infiltrate Barbarossa's ship under disguise. He had also instructed Gin to remain behind and infiltrate the Marines, which explained Gin's absence during the subsequent events, including the reception of Sherlock and other affairs.

In fact, even before clashing with Barbarossa and Arcadio, William had considered embedding someone within the Marines. As one of the most powerful forces on the sea, the Marines' movements were crucial to monitor, and their intelligence was invaluable. Additionally, William had entertained the idea of stealing military technology, such as weapon designs or even combat training manuals.

William didn't believe that even a small dojo like Koushirou's could provide advanced swordsmanship training while the globally significant Marines lacked technical expertise for training their soldiers.

Initially, William wasn't in a rush to execute this plan. He intended to wait for the right time, perhaps after his smuggling operations expanded into new territories, before planting Gin within the Marines. However, following Vallon's incident, this plan was forced into action.

Gin's assignment to Roy's command was a stroke of luck. At the time, William hadn't been certain which Marine officers were colluding with Arcadio and Barbarossa. Based on geographical analysis, he deduced that the Navia Kingdom's surrounding waters fell under the jurisdiction of the 16th Branch, making its officers the most likely candidates for such collusion. Even if his guess was wrong, it wouldn't hinder his plans.

The Marines, under the World Government, held a lofty position, independent of kingdom rule. However, their recruitment system struck William, a modern-day transmigrant, as laughably simplistic. Initially, he had assumed that the Marines and World Government would conduct background checks akin to those on Earth. But after living in this world for some time, he realized he had vastly overestimated them.

The recruitment process was outdated, and the semi-autonomous management of each Marine base meant that the quality of recruits varied wildly. It wasn't uncommon for fugitives from various kingdoms to join the Marines to escape capture.

Thus, Gin had easily transformed into a Marine recruit at the 16th Branch. His skills and bribes soon won the favor of Lieutenant Nezumi.

Gin wasn't sure whether Nezumi valued his money or his skills more.

Nezumi was undoubtedly a greedy man, a fact Gin had no trouble confirming. Gin despised his shifty superior but couldn't deny that William seemed to "appreciate" such an overtly corrupt individual. Through well-placed bribes, Gin had obtained plenty of useful intelligence from Nezumi, which he then relayed to William, aiding him in refining his plans.

After finishing his weapon cleaning, Gin checked the time, packed up his tools, and left. He headed down the corridor to his quarters, where he retrieved a box of cigars and a bottle of sherry from under his bed.

He then made his way to the duty room. After ensuring no one was around, he knocked lightly on the door before entering.

Gin's eyes discreetly scanned the table filled with Transponder Snails, then shifted to a young Marine soldier who looked at him in confusion.

"Neil, do me a favor," Gin said with a smile.

Chapter 72

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 72: New Recruit, Gin

In a military base where the highest-ranking officer colluded with pirates and even led troops to raid villages, inefficiency was inevitable. As the saying goes, "the fish rots from the head." Gin easily managed to lure the soldier Neil away from the duty room with a box of cigars and a bottle of liquor.

Once the duty room was left with only Gin, he used a Transponder Snail to dial a number.

This peculiar creature sent a series of signals far away, and the waves traveled rapidly through the air until they reached a nearby sea area, where the Transponder Snail in Aramis's hand, seemingly dormant until now, was awakened.

After a brief conversation with Gin, Aramis put away the Transponder Snail. He looked at the group of people staring at him inside the cabin, paused for a moment, and then said, "Prepare to move. Remember, leave no survivors."

Edmond ran a hand through his red hair before standing up silently from his seat, gripping the hilt of his scimitar as he exited the cabin. The remaining young men from Red Leaf Village showed varied expressions—some flushed with excitement, others pale with nervousness.

On the deck, Sherlock was quietly comforting the anxious helmsman, while not far away, Tony smoked a cigarette, his expression complex.

The three-masted ship they were on sailed swiftly toward a bridge that seemed to stretch endlessly, dividing the sea and sky.

In the 16th Marine Branch's duty room, a distinct Transponder Snail among its peers suddenly emitted a loud noise. The label in front of it read "Tequila Wolf."

Gin answered the call, and soon a tense male voice came through: "This is 'Tequila Wolf.' We've been attacked by pirates while transporting supplies to the bridge residents! Send reinforcements immediately!"

"Can you hold out on your own?" Gin asked leisurely.

"Damn it, we're just a supply transport ship! It's the Marines' job to protect us from attacks and harassment! Do you know how important our safety is to the World Government and the Celestial Dragons? You better hurry," the voice on the other end sounded frantic, but for some reason, he paused halfway through, then spoke in terror, "They're coming aboard! Hurry and send help..."

The other side suddenly erupted in shouts and screams, ending with a loud, chilling cry.

Gin didn't hang up immediately. After a moment of silence, a familiar voice came through again: "Everything's taken care of. I didn't expect just a bunch of bloated officials. Made me quite nervous."

"Check again, make sure there are no other witnesses, then leave quickly," Gin instructed simply before hanging up.

He then stood up, took a moment to compose himself, and burst out of the duty room, feigning panic. After a few steps, he ran into a slightly tipsy Neil, who had come out of the nearby dormitory upon hearing the commotion.

"What happened, Gin?"

"Tequila Wolf's transport ship was attacked by pirates!"

Neil sobered up instantly, his face turning as pale as a chameleon changing colors.

If one were to list the two most famous figures in the East Blue, the names that would appear in people's minds would undoubtedly be the Marine hero, Garp, and the legendary pirate, Roger. As for the two most famous landmarks, they would be the capital of Goa Kingdom, "High Town," and the bridge nation, Tequila Wolf.

Tequila Wolf, also known as the Bridge Nation and the Laborers' Kingdom, was ordered to be built by the Celestial Dragons seven hundred years ago to connect various islands. The laborers responsible for its construction, or more accurately, the slaves, were criminals from various kingdoms and citizens from nations that refused to join the World Government.

The bridge was so vast, and the population living on it so large, that it could be considered a separate country. With the bridge's length increasing, there have been multiple migrations of entire nations onto it.

However, despite its size, the bridge was made of concrete and steel, unable to produce enough essentials to sustain its population. The residents depended almost entirely on external supplies for their daily needs.

Ordinary pirates wouldn't dare linger nearby, let alone rob supply ships bound for the bridge, because Tequila Wolf was under the watchful eyes of the World Government and the Celestial Dragons. These two colossal entities viewed East Blue pirates as mere ants, and ants tend to avoid courting death by attracting the attention of such powers.

"Tequila Wolf" currently fell under the jurisdiction of the 16th Marine Branch. Regardless of what might happen to the pirates attacking the supply ships, the branch responsible for allowing Tequila Wolf to be harassed by pirates and delaying construction would likely face punishment first.

"Which pirate crew attacked? Did they say?" Neil asked.

Gin paused before replying, "The pirate crew didn't fly their flag. The call only mentioned the leader had red hair and wielded a scimitar. The pirates seemed strong; our side barely spoke before the signal cut off."

In a separate thread of events, before the attack on Tequila Wolf occurred, William had suggested to Barbarossa, under the guise of needing new crew members due to heavy casualties, that they stop by a village near Tequila Wolf to recruit. Barbarossa, unaware of William's true intentions, agreed without hesitation.

Currently, aboard the Red-Beard Pirates' ship, Barbarossa had become increasingly detached from affairs, drinking heavily each day. The deaths of Reis and Hayreddin, coupled with the complete looting of their wealth, had left him somewhat dispirited. His reliance on the elusive Devil Fruit as his sole hope was indicative of his mental state.

For pirate crews in this world, Barbarossa's despondency wasn't particularly detrimental as long as he maintained his formidable strength and could keep the crew in line, allowing him to remain captain safely. Unfortunately, the ship now harbored the scheming William.

Most affairs aboard the ship were now managed by William and a newly appointed first mate named Felton, promoted by Barbarossa.

Felton, originally the second mate, was a seasoned old pirate with little fondness for William, who had quickly risen to a position equal to his own. Unlike William, Felton lacked navigation skills, so he clung tightly to Barbarossa, obeying his every command and acting as a sycophantic lackey.

Chapter 73

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 73: Countdown

The night was calm as William patrolled the ship, carrying a lantern. He first checked the crew's quarters to ensure the candles used for lighting had been extinguished, then inspected a few flammable areas. Along the way, he noticed some of the new recruits had kicked off their blankets in their sleep. Thoughtfully, he adjusted the blankets for them and even tucked the corners in snugly.

Of course, this considerate gesture would inevitably "accidentally" wake up the recruits. When they opened their eyes, William would smile and gesture for them to remain quiet, embodying the image of someone doing good deeds without seeking recognition. This small act deeply moved the rookies, who were still uneasy in their unfamiliar surroundings.

Leaving the quarters, William greeted the pirates on night watch as he passed, occasionally reminding the newer ones to keep their lights low or tossing a cigarette to the older crew members while exchanging a few jokes before moving on.

Since boarding the ship, William's largest expense had surprisingly been cigarettes. On a pirate ship, where voyages could last indefinitely without docking at populated areas, alcohol was part of the ship's supplies, but cigarettes were a personal commodity. Some inexperienced rookies or spendthrifts who hadn't stocked up enough tobacco would quickly run out during the journey. When William saw these pirates suffering from withdrawal, he would sometimes toss them a pack. On the ship, cigarettes and alcohol often worked better than Beli to win goodwill and build relationships.

In addition, William himself was under immense psychological pressure, being in enemy territory. He didn't dare to rely on alcohol to relieve stress, so he turned to smoking instead. Over time, he found himself addicted once again.

Some of the younger recruits, close to William's age, looked on enviously as he joked and laughed with the veteran pirates. From the stern to the bow, it seemed like William had friends everywhere on the ship.

But that was, of course, an illusion. While William's increasingly unmasked, charismatic personality allowed him to navigate social dynamics effortlessly, he wasn't Beli—he couldn't be liked by everyone.

Near the bow of the ship, in a sheltered corner, a group of figures sat around a dim lantern playing cards. One of them, hearing footsteps, glanced up and saw William approaching. Recognizing him, the man quickly lowered his head and refocused on his cards.

William frowned slightly. The man who had looked up was short and stocky, with a face full of coarse features and messy black curls. It was none other than the newly appointed first mate, Felton.

The others around the lantern were Felton's close confidants, except for one—a young recruit, still fresh-faced and inexperienced.

Veteran pirates on the ship, with years of experience on the seas, were adept at all vices—drinking, gambling, cheating, and swindling. Many of the newer recruits, aside from those with prior sailing experience, were clueless about shipboard life and the rules of long voyages. The young man before him, still carrying a trace of youthful naivety, was clearly being fleeced by Felton and his gang.

Gambling, especially the kind involving deceit, only served to deepen conflicts among the crew and increased the cost of maintaining order.

In the past, when Reis and Hayreddin were alive, the former acted as the ship's steward, managing everything meticulously, while the latter's temper deterred most from gambling openly. At most, such activities were confined to secretive corners, never as brazen as they were now.

But with Barbarossa no longer taking charge, the ship's discipline had begun to slip. Felton, unlike Reis, lacked both the intellect and the ability to lead by example. Instead, he exploited his position to gamble openly, setting a poor precedent.

While Felton and his cronies paid no mind to William, the young recruit, Nadal, was visibly anxious. William was the ship's navigator, a man known for his social finesse and, more importantly, for his feat of capturing the renowned "Red-Leg" Zeff back in Kalmar City.

On a pirate ship, strength was the ultimate currency. William's status on the ship was second only to Barbarossa himself. In terms of both strength and rank, Nadal was no match for William.

Seeing William approach, Nadal hastily gathered his cards and stood up, drawing the attention of Felton and his men.

William glanced at the group and said calmly to Nadal, "Go back to sleep."

"You're not leaving!" Felton barked at Nadal, then turned to William with a sneer. "He still owes us money."

Nadal looked helplessly at William, who scanned Felton and his cronies before repeating, "Go back to sleep."

Felton's brows furrowed as he strode up to William. Being shorter, he had to look up to meet William's gaze, which made him appear utterly lacking in intimidation.

"Don't think you can meddle in everything just because you're the navigator, Stolt!" Felton growled, using William's alias with venom.

"Should I call you smart or foolish, First Mate?" William replied, glancing at the veteran pirates who were slowly gathering around. He then looked down at Felton with a scrutinizing gaze. "We both know the captain promoted you to counterbalance my influence on this ship. But do you really need to throw yourself into the role so enthusiastically? I didn't realize you were such a method actor."

Felton's hostility toward William might have partially stemmed from genuine feelings, but much of it was likely a performance for Barbarossa and the rest of the crew. Unlike William, who had navigation skills to fall back on, Felton's position as first mate was entirely dependent on Barbarossa's favor—a fact that William understood all too well.

Felton didn't understand William's reference to "method acting," but he caught the faint mockery in his tone. His face darkened, but as William had pointed out, much of his hostility was for show. He had no intention of actually clashing with William, especially with his confidants watching.

William saw through Felton's posturing immediately. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wallet. "Do you think a rookie like him, who hasn't even participated in a raid or earned a share of the loot, has money to pay you? How much does he owe? I'll cover it."

Felton crossed his arms and named a figure. Nadal opened his mouth to protest, but William knew Felton had inflated the amount. Nonetheless, he handed over the money without complaint.

Felton, satisfied with both the cash and the face he'd saved in front of his followers, beamed smugly at William before swaggering off toward the cabin. His cronies followed, their spirits high. One even bumped William's shoulder lightly as he passed.

William turned slightly, his expression enigmatic as he watched them leave. Nadal stood awkwardly nearby and asked, "Brother Stolt, what's wrong?"

"I'm just amazed at how stupidity seems to be everywhere in this world," William said, gazing in the direction Felton had gone. Then he turned back to Nadal.

Nadal rubbed his hands nervously, unsure whether William was referring to Felton's group or himself.

"You're just a rookie, and every thought you have is written all over your face. Yet you still had the guts to gamble?" William said. "That money is a loan. Pay me back after you've earned your share of the loot. Now go to bed."

Nadal nodded gratefully and hurried off.

On the supply ship that had been attacked near Tequila Wolf, Captain Roy held a cigar between his teeth as he used his sheathed scimitar to lift a pristine flag belonging to the Cook Pirates. Displaying it to Nezumi and the other officers around him, he chuckled darkly.

"This is quite interesting. Not a single survivor left alive to serve as a witness, yet they made sure to leave behind a perfectly intact pirate flag. It's as if they're afraid we wouldn't know who the attackers were."

"Barbarossa, that scum, does he take us Marines for fools?" Captain Roy growled, slamming his cigar to the ground in anger.

Chapter 74

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 74: The Alliance Fractures

Inside the captain's quarters.

Barbarossa sat behind his desk, a newly purchased map spread out before him. Gathered across from him were nearly all the ship's officers.

Among them were the short and stocky first mate Felton, the bald and slightly chubby ship doctor Wood, and the navigator William, among others. There was also the newly appointed second mate, Harden. Harden was a tall and burly man in his mid-twenties, with a gruesome scar across his throat, a reminder of a near-fatal injury that had fortunately been treated in time. His voice was hoarse as a result. Harden was known for his fierce and fearless combat style, making him an ideal candidate for the role of second mate, a position that often required leading by example in battle. During the clash at Dampier's restaurant with the Cook Pirates and Zeff, Harden had stepped forward twice without hesitation.

"...We don't know how long we'll be lingering near the Calm Belt, so we must find a suitable place to stop," William said calmly. "Food, solid ground, and most importantly, fresh water."

Barbarossa rested his chin on one hand, his single eye narrowing slightly as he watched William speak with ease and confidence.

Barbarossa had been a pirate for nearly a decade. From being a hunted nobody to becoming a notorious rookie hunter, he had encountered countless types of pirates—reckless, cunning, ignorant, or shrewd. He had seen them all.

Since setting sail again, Barbarossa was well aware of William's increasingly active role. He also noticed how William, once a brash newcomer, had become a skilled manipulator, adept at building relationships across the ship.

If this had been before the Kalmar City incident, back when Reis and Hayreddin were still alive, Barbarossa wouldn't have been angry about William's behavior. In fact, he might have admired it, even attempting to win William over. After all, only the mediocre would be content to remain quietly on someone else's ship, especially someone like William, who possessed both navigation and swordsmanship skills.

William's growing prominence wasn't entirely unexpected to Barbarossa.

But now, with his two trusted brothers dead, Barbarossa found William's actions increasingly intolerable. If not for the current priority of finding the Devil Fruit, which required a navigator to guide their patrols and eventual return, Barbarossa might have already drawn his blade to deal with William—or at least taught him a harsh lesson. For now, however, he could only exercise caution in personnel arrangements to keep William in check.

The harsh environment of the Calm Belt made Barbarossa temporarily reliant on William. Suppressing the malice in his gaze, he turned his attention to the first mate, Felton.

"The crew is in high spirits, Captain! You can rest assured!" Felton declared, thumping his chest with confidence.

Not far away, Harden discreetly curled his lip. Felton was obviously lying. They were heading toward the Calm Belt, a place even more terrifying to ordinary people than the Grand Line. If not for desperation and Barbarossa's insistence, no one would willingly venture there. How could the crew possibly be in high spirits?

In Kalmar City, inside the residence of the Minister of Finance, Captain Roy ignored the butler Eaton, who bowed deeply in greeting. Striding forward, Roy pushed open the doors to the reception room, with Nezumi following closely behind.

Arcadio Buendía quickly rose to his feet to greet him, but Roy didn't bother with pleasantries. He got straight to the point: "Have you made up your mind?"

Arcadio frowned. "Are you sure this was Barbarossa's doing?"

"If not him, then who else?" Roy snapped, signaling Nezumi to close the door. Gritting his teeth, he continued, "I've already investigated. The Red-Beard Pirates were spotted landing on nearby islands around the time of the incident. They even recruited new members there. Didn't your informant on his ship tell you? His treasure was likely looted. He's desperate and taking risks."

During their last meeting, Kuro had informed Arcadio that the Red-Beard Pirates' warship had been looted, with Barbarossa's navigation logs, treasure maps, and other critical documents stolen. Both Arcadio and Roy understood that their ally, the infamous pirate Barbarossa, might soon find himself penniless.

This gave them reason to believe that Barbarossa, unable to sway them with wealth, might resort to dragging them into his schemes by force.

The Cook Pirates' enmity with Barbarossa, Kuro's report, Gin's intelligence, and testimonies from local residents—all evidence pointed to this possibility.

Roy took a deep drag from his cigar, the glowing ember reflecting his simmering anger. "That bastard is a mad dog. He's lost his mind. Does he really think framing the Cook Pirates will force us to help him seek revenge? Dream on!"

Arcadio closed his eyes briefly, his fingers tracing the gemstone on his ring. After a long silence, he asked, "Is it impossible to suppress this?"

"'Tequila Wolf' was ordered by the Celestial Dragons themselves. An attack on it draws direct attention from Marine Headquarters and the World Government. This is about the reputation of the World Nobles. We're not dealing with some low-level local merchants here. How could I possibly suppress it?" Roy retorted.

Arcadio hesitated but ultimately sighed, unwilling to defend the increasingly troublesome Barbarossa.

"What do you plan to do?" Arcadio asked directly.

Roy sneered. "The higher-ups demand an explanation, and so do I. Those small-time pirates can't fill the hole this incident has created. I need a head—a head with enough weight to erase my stain."

Roy might have been able to shift the blame onto another pirate crew, but why should he take such a huge risk for Barbarossa, that mad dog? Besides, that wouldn't restore his reputation for negligence. Only the head of a major pirate could save him from punishment—and perhaps even earn him commendation.

Arcadio sighed again, a rarity for him in recent years. "Barbarossa won't be easy to deal with. He's a monster."

Roy extinguished his cigar in the ashtray with a disdainful laugh. "A Devil Fruit user is nothing special. I've seen plenty of them in the Grand Line. The real 'monsters' are the pirates who dominate there and the elite of Marine Headquarters. Barbarossa? He's nothing."

Seeing Roy's confidence, Arcadio decided not to argue further. He knew Roy had been trained at Marine Headquarters. While Roy might not be one of the "monsters" he spoke of, he was far stronger than the average Marine from the East Blue. Moreover, Seastone, a natural counter to Devil Fruit users, was a resource the Marines never lacked.

"It seems I'll need to find a new partner," Arcadio remarked with resignation.

"I've told you before, they're just pirates. There's no shortage of them," Roy replied indifferently.

Arcadio nodded but couldn't help recalling his first meeting with William, who had seemed so unassuming at the time.

Chapter 75

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 75: No Shared Fortune

In the Calm Belt, a battered warship struggled to move forward on the still waters.

The ship's ram had been broken off, and the holes in its hull were patched up with mismatched wooden planks, forming a patchwork quilt of repairs. What should have been an imposing vessel now looked comical from a distance.

With no wind to fill the sails, the crew had furled them and extended two rows of oars from the ship's sides. Accompanied by faint shouts of rhythm, the oars moved in unison, carving two white trails across the sea's surface.

Behind the ship, the sea was stained red with blood. The massive corpse of a Sea King, as large as a small mountain, floated up and down in the water. On the deck, the ship's captain, Selkirk, lay sprawled out, soaked and panting heavily.

Selkirk appeared to be in his thirties. His scarred, bare upper body revealed countless battle marks. Due to the lack of sufficient food, his body fat had diminished, making his muscular frame even more defined.

Beside him stood the ship's first mate and navigator, Caruso, who paid no attention to his captain's exhausted state. Expressionless, Caruso turned to a nearby crewmate and ordered, "The blood will soon attract other Sea Kings. We need to leave immediately. Tell the rowers below to put in more effort—we must pick up speed!"

The pirate nodded and left without so much as a glance at his captain.

Only then did Caruso turn to Selkirk and sneer, "If you had eaten the Devil Fruit, would you have been able to dive into the water and stop the Sea King from attacking our ship? We'd all be dead by now."

"If it were a Logia-type or something with a useful ability, I might not have needed to go into the water at all," Selkirk replied as he slowly sat up.

"If," Caruso scoffed.

The conversation quickly fell into an awkward silence. The tension between the captain and his first mate was palpable, and anyone on the ship could see that the two didn't get along.

The Swordfish Pirates was a name chosen by Selkirk himself. Caruso had no part in the decision, offering neither suggestions nor participation, as he wasn't one of the ship's original crew members.

Sailing the Grand Line meant constant vigilance against harsh weather and frequent battles. Selkirk's original navigator, first mate, and several other senior officers had all perished in a brutal fight. Caruso and many of the current officers and crew had joined the pirate group later.

Without the bond of shared hardships, there was naturally no camaraderie to share in success.

The Swordfish Pirates had stumbled upon a Devil Fruit during an unexpected stroke of luck. This windfall, combined with the crew's growing frustration with the harsh conditions of the Grand Line, led them to decide to risk leaving.

However, while the officers agreed on leaving the Grand Line, they differed on the specifics of their route.

Selkirk wanted to eat the Devil Fruit himself. With the power of the fruit combined with the skills he had honed in the Grand Line, he believed he could quickly rise to prominence in another sea as a major pirate. He was confident that the fruit's value, estimated at 100 million Beli, could be recouped in no time.

But Caruso vehemently opposed this idea. The effects of a Devil Fruit were unpredictable—a gamble with outcomes ranging from extraordinary to disastrous. The worst-case scenario would leave Selkirk as a "land duck" (unable to swim), with little to no improvement in his combat abilities.

Even in a mediocre scenario, it would take significant time and effort to develop the fruit's powers. Caruso and those aligned with him argued that this would hinder their immediate goal of crossing the Calm Belt.

Of course, the real and more pressing issue was that the Devil Fruit was a single, unique treasure. Its power could only benefit one person. Allowing Selkirk to monopolize such a valuable asset left Caruso and the other dissenting crew members feeling deeply resentful. It wasn't about scarcity—it was about inequality.

Moreover, if Selkirk's already formidable strength were further enhanced by the fruit, his authority would become even more unshakable. Repaying the crew for their contributions would be entirely at his discretion.

Caruso and his supporters proposed a different plan: sell the Devil Fruit once they reached their destination. Their target was the weakest of the four seas—the East Blue. With their current strength, they believed they could establish themselves at the top of the pirate hierarchy there without even using the fruit. Selling it would fetch an ideal price and secure their future.

This disagreement left the ship in a state of tense stalemate. The Devil Fruit, which could be rendered worthless with just a single bite, was locked in an iron box. Selkirk held the key, while the box was kept in Caruso's quarters—a compromise born of mutual distrust.

Selkirk, though unwilling, had no choice. While he was the strongest on the ship, navigating the Calm Belt and adapting to the unfamiliar waters of the East Blue required Caruso's expertise. For now, Caruso's importance outweighed his own. As captain, Selkirk's primary role was to dive into the water and fend off Sea Kings to ensure the ship's safety.

Despite considering Caruso a scoundrel, Selkirk couldn't deny his competence. It was Caruso who had calculated that this season was the peak of Sea King activity, allowing them to navigate the Calm Belt relatively unscathed.

Still, Selkirk vowed to replace Caruso with a more reliable navigator once they reached the East Blue and familiarized themselves with the region.

Shaking off the seawater, Selkirk felt the cool breeze against his skin, raising goosebumps. His eyes scanned the deck for a towel.

Wait—a breeze?

Selkirk abruptly turned around, locking eyes with Caruso, who wore an expression of surprise and delight. For a moment, their shared joy was evident, but they quickly turned away from each other and ran off in opposite directions to alert the crew.

They had crossed the Calm Belt!

"Finally, I can get rid of that bastard!"

Both men thought the same thing as they hurried off.

Meanwhile, the Red-Beard Pirates had reached the vicinity of the Calm Belt without incident. Under William's guidance, the ship proceeded cautiously to avoid wandering Sea Kings.

For nearly half a month, they had navigated the edge of the Calm Belt, their nerves on edge. During this time, they hadn't encountered any other pirates—or even a trace of humanity. The crew's morale was understandably low, and many had begun to lose faith in Barbarossa's plan.

Barbarossa himself had grown increasingly irritable. Over the past few days, he had used his Devil Fruit powers to strangle several crew members over trivial matters. Their corpses now hung from the ship's ram like oversized wind chimes, tongues lolling out and eyes rolling back as the wind occasionally spun them around. The sight was both grotesque and terrifying.

Sailing the Calm Belt was dangerous enough, but Barbarossa's actions only added to the psychological strain on the crew.

Even as the hanging bodies began to rot and emit a foul stench, no one dared to suggest taking them down, fearing Barbarossa's wrath.

The once-mighty pirate who had ruled the East Blue through connections with ministers and Marine base commanders was gone. In his place was a tyrannical, bloodthirsty beast—a madman who inspired both fear and alienation among his crew.

Chapter 76

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 76: A String of Misfortunes

Onboard the Red-Beard Pirates' ship, in the kitchen, William sat leisurely on a table, casually chatting with the new crew member Nadal. Before leaving, he took a handful of fresh greens—precious commodities for a vessel on a long voyage.

Nadal merely glanced at him before returning to his work, unconcerned.

With Barbarossa growing increasingly tyrannical, Felton, the first mate, was no better—a scoundrel who schemed with others to swindle newcomers out of their belongings. The second mate, Harden, was impulsive and reckless.

Only William, who often looked out for the newcomers, had earned their respect and gratitude. His reputation among the newer crew members was unmatched, especially after he had once covered Nadal's debts. Nadal, deeply appreciative, naturally didn't mind William taking a few greens.

Finding a secluded corner on the ship, William pulled out a small box from his coat. Inside was his personal Den Den Mushi, Watson. The little creature had been confined for too long in its hidden space, and because William couldn't reveal it to others, it hadn't been fed regularly. Now, it looked listless and weak.

William felt a pang of concern for his only means of communication. If Watson fell ill—or worse, died—he would be in serious trouble. Taking out the fresh greens he had just acquired, he fed them to Watson, watching as it devoured them ravenously. Meanwhile, William sank into deep thought.

For Captain Roy to use Barbarossa's head to atone for his own failures, he needed to solidify the narrative that Barbarossa was the mastermind behind the Tequila Wolf attack. This wasn't something Gin, who had become one of Nezumi's trusted subordinates, could conceal. Besides, Roy had no intention of keeping it a secret.

Through regular communications, Gin had already relayed this information to William via the Den Den Mushi.

For William, everything was now in place. He could eliminate Barbarossa at any time, then use Kuro as a bridge to connect with Arcadio and Roy, forming a new alliance.

After all, compared to seeking out new partners, the Red-Beard Pirates were already familiar to Roy and Arcadio. Finding another pirate crew of equivalent strength to replace them wouldn't be easy.

Taking out Barbarossa would also serve as a demonstration of William's personal strength to Roy and Arcadio, providing a bargaining chip for their cooperation.

Before the Kalmar City incident, William had found the prospect of dealing with Barbarossa somewhat daunting. But after Barbarossa exposed his weakness under Zeff's Devil Leg, William had devised a plan.

Barbarossa's Devil Fruit ability allowed him to alter the hardness and density of his hair, making it as tough as steel. Without having mastered the swordsmanship technique of "cutting steel," William had no way to harm him.

However, after noticing the burn scar on Barbarossa's chest, William conducted an experiment. He had secretly collected some of Barbarossa's shed hair during previous battles and burned it. To his surprise, the hair, once as hard as iron, curled and burned like ordinary hair when exposed to flames.

Since then, William had carried two flasks of highly flammable liquor and a lighter with him, specifically to counter Barbarossa's ability.

The main reason he hadn't made his move yet was that he wanted to let Barbarossa, who was becoming increasingly hysterical, continue his "performance." The more Barbarossa alienated the crew, the easier it would be for William to gain their support after killing him.

Barbarossa's head, control of the pirate crew, and Kuro's connections—along with his prior meeting with Arcadio—would give William the greatest leverage to replace Barbarossa as Arcadio and Roy's new ally.

The Swordfish Pirates' battered ship slowly approached the shore of a small island, prompting cheers from the crew.

Crossing the Calm Belt was no small feat and was considered a remarkable achievement by many pirates from the Grand Line.

However, the celebration didn't last long. Their immediate priorities were to find supplies, take a proper rest, and, most importantly, locate fresh water.

After docking, the first mate and navigator Caruso discussed with Captain Selkirk the need to send out teams to explore the unfamiliar island for fresh water.

Selkirk, not giving it much thought, agreed. Leaving only one trusted subordinate on the ship, he led the rest of the crew ashore. Before departing, he failed to notice the subtle glances exchanged between Caruso and a few allied officers.

As Selkirk neared the island's center, a close subordinate came running toward him in a panic. Rushing back to the shore, Selkirk and his group arrived just in time to see their battered warship sailing away.

Selkirk's eyes burned with rage. He sprinted forward and dove into the sea with a loud splash, desperately swimming after the ship. But no matter how strong he was, a damaged ship powered by wind was beyond human capability to catch. Exhausted from the ordeal in the Calm Belt, Selkirk found himself falling further and further behind.

In the end, he could only watch helplessly as Caruso and his traitorous crew sailed away with his ship. He could almost picture the smug grins on their faces.

His suspicions were correct. In the ship's cabin, Caruso was indeed feeling triumphant. An old pirate, who had just killed Selkirk's trusted subordinate left aboard, wiped the blood from his curved blade and eagerly asked, "Captain—uh, I mean, Captain Caruso—how much do you think this Devil Fruit will sell for in the East Blue?"

Caruso gently stroked the solid iron box containing the Devil Fruit. The box, specially crafted under Selkirk's orders, was incredibly sturdy and nearly impossible to open without the key. But that didn't bother Caruso—it was only a matter of finding a locksmith in a village or town. With Selkirk no longer around to oppose him, Caruso had all the time in the world to make arrangements.

"Doubling its value should be easy. After all, this is the weakest sea. Even a mediocre ability user could make a name for themselves here," Caruso replied absentmindedly.

Two days later, Selkirk and a handful of loyal subordinates were on the brink of despair. Not only had they been abandoned by their comrades, but to make matters worse, they had failed to find any drinkable water on the island.

Without a miracle, they were doomed.

Selkirk couldn't help but bitterly reflect on his fate. He hadn't perished in the so-called "Pirates' Graveyard" of the Grand Line, but now he was about to die of thirst in the weakest sea—the East Blue.

As he stared blankly at the horizon, a three-masted ship suddenly appeared in his line of sight. Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, he thought it might be a hallucination. But the excited shouts of his subordinates confirmed it was real. They rushed to the shore, waving and yelling to catch the ship's attention.

Selkirk had his doubts, but compared to dying of hunger and thirst on a deserted island, could there be anything worse?

A few hours later, Selkirk lay battered, starving, and parched on the deck of the pirate ship, realizing he had been wrong.

Chapter 77

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 77: Surprise

A few hours later, Selkirk realized that there was indeed something worse than starving and dehydrating to death on a deserted island—being battered, starving, and dehydrated while dying aboard a pirate ship.

The abandoned members of the Swordfish Pirates stood no chance against the vigorous Barbarossa. Using his Devil Fruit powers, Barbarossa easily subdued them, binding them with iron chains and tossing them onto the deck.

Selkirk and his companions, already harboring resentment toward Caruso for abandoning them, quickly spilled the entire story after a bit of intimidation.

When Barbarossa heard about the Devil Fruit, his breath grew noticeably heavier. Despite his confidence wavering after so long at sea, it seemed fortune had not abandoned him after all. Just as he was about to give up, a new hope had appeared.

The Red-Beard Pirates' ship immediately set sail, heading in the direction Selkirk and his men had indicated. Several nimble pirates climbed into the crow's nest, diligently scanning the surrounding waters with telescopes, leaving no clue unchecked.

Taking advantage of the bustling activity on deck, William returned to his cabin. He rummaged through a corner and pulled out a katana. Seeing this, Kuro, who was in the same room, visibly tensed.

William smiled at him. "It's not time yet. Just making some necessary preparations."

With that, William carried the katana and avoided the crowds, heading straight to the kitchen. Nadal, who was stationed there to oversee supplies, listened as William whispered instructions into his ear. Though he hesitated briefly, Nadal ultimately nodded firmly, accepting the katana William handed him.

After unsheathing the blade, Nadal placed the katana into the roaring flames of the kitchen stove. He then carefully moved a table to block the view, ensuring the blade couldn't be easily seen.

Watching Nadal complete the task, William patted him on the shoulder, offering a few words of reassurance before heading to the deck.

As the dominant force in the East Blue, the Red-Beard Pirates were far more familiar with the local environment than Caruso and his crew of outsiders. Most importantly, their ship was intact and undamaged. After sailing in the indicated direction for a while, the lookout in the crow's nest shouted out, spotting the Swordfish Pirates' battered ship in the distance.

The Swordfish Pirates, too, seemed to have noticed the Red-Beard Pirates' approach. The hostility in their intentions was unmistakable.

The Swordfish Pirates appeared to attempt speeding up to evade the Red-Beard ship, but upon realizing the futility of their efforts, they quickly gave up.

The Swordfish Pirates' damaged vessel began to slow down. As the distance between the two ships closed, the chaos on the Swordfish deck became visible through the telescope. Evidently, the crew was preparing for battle.

In truth, the best strategy for the Red-Beard Pirates at this moment would have been to leverage their ship's superior condition to bombard the Swordfish Pirates' vessel, sinking it entirely and securing their victory.

However, Barbarossa was too eager to secure the safety of the Devil Fruit. He ordered the helmsman to sail directly toward the Swordfish Pirates' ship for a boarding maneuver.

As the ships drew closer, Barbarossa stood at the bow, shaking his head and body. With his movements, his fiery red hair and beard twisted and transformed into thick, arm-like serpents, which shot toward the Swordfish Pirates' ship.

A chorus of startled cries erupted from the opposing ship. It was clear that Caruso and his crew were witnessing Barbarossa's powers for the first time. However, being former pirates of the Grand Line, they quickly recognized this as a Devil Fruit ability. Though surprised, they were not intimidated.

Unfortunately for the Swordfish Pirates, having just crossed the Calm Belt, their crew was severely fatigued. In this windless region, ships relying primarily on sails had to be rowed manually, which had drained the crew's strength. Without sufficient rest, they were unable to fight at full capacity.

Barbarossa, having learned this from Selkirk, was entirely unperturbed, even though he was facing pirates who had survived the Grand Line.

His hair wrapped around the mast of the Swordfish ship as his sharp, one-eyed gaze swept over the enemy crew and officers. He decisively ordered, "No one is to board their ship without my command!"

With that, Barbarossa kicked off with both legs, activating his powers to retract his hair, propelling himself like a cannonball toward the enemy ship.

It seemed he intended to handle the enemy ship single-handedly.

Due to the remaining distance, grappling hooks couldn't reach the Swordfish ship. Moreover, given Barbarossa's strict orders, the Red-Beard Pirates' crew could only watch their captain charge forward.

"Does he really not trust us at all?" muttered William, taking in the scene with a smirk.

Nearby, second mate Harden, ship doctor Wood, and even first mate Felton all wore displeased expressions.

The Devil Fruit could only grant its powers to the first person who consumed it—a fact widely known. Though Selkirk had claimed that the fruit was locked in a sturdy box and that Barbarossa had taken the key, no one could guarantee what might happen during the chaos of a boarding battle.

What if the box had already been opened? What if it wasn't as sturdy as Selkirk claimed?

While the Devil Fruit was a crucial bargaining chip for securing Arcadio and Roy's assistance in revenge, as well as a key to reclaiming the crew's stolen wealth, no one could guarantee that every member of the Red-Beard Pirates shared the same goal.

Barbarossa's dominance in the East Blue was a testament to the power of a Devil Fruit. Who could say for sure that there wasn't someone aboard who, driven by envy, might take the risk and consume the fruit themselves?

For pirates, strength was the ultimate allure. Strength brought fame, wealth, and authority, and the Devil Fruit was a shortcut to obtaining extraordinary power. Its immense value was exemplified by Barbarossa himself.

Though Barbarossa's precautions were reasonable, William's deliberate remarks made them seem petty and distrustful, leaving the crew feeling uneasy.

Even if some of them harbored thoughts of claiming the Devil Fruit for themselves, they disliked being suspected by their captain without cause.

On the Swordfish Pirates' ship, Barbarossa, despite being alone, gradually gained the upper hand against the exhausted enemy crew. Wrapped in layers of his hair, he advanced from the deck toward the cabin.

William flicked away his cigarette butt and turned to head toward the kitchen.

When he returned to the deck, he was carrying a katana that had been heated until it glowed red. First mate Felton, second mate Harden, and other officers stared at him in astonishment. William, however, simply instructed Kuro, who was standing by the ship's side, "Lower the small boat."

Recalling the encounter during the raid on Reis, Kuro dared not hesitate and complied immediately.

The others, however, collectively paled. Not only was William blatantly defying Barbarossa's orders, but more importantly, they couldn't understand when or how William and Kuro had started working together.

Chapter 78

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 78: Borrowing a Head (Part 1)

On the deck of the Red-Beard Pirates' ship, Felton, Harden, Hatcheson, Nadal, Wood, and other crew members stood watching William, who was holding a katana heated until it glowed red. They all felt baffled.

What puzzled them even more was how William had just casually ordered Kuro, who typically held a special status on the ship, to act. This left them deeply unsettled.

Felton, the first mate, stepped forward with a furrowed brow and asked, "What are you doing, Stolt?"

After speaking, he turned to Kuro, who was busy lowering the small boat, and shouted, "Are you out of your mind? Stop this immediately!"

Kuro ignored him entirely, and William did the same. Sweeping his gaze over the crowd of pirates watching him, William picked out a rookie crew member and instructed, "I've hidden a barrel of liquor in the lowest part of the cabin. Go fetch it for me."

The rookie pirate hesitated, glancing at Felton's dark expression, but ultimately responded with a quick nod. He grabbed another newcomer and hurried toward the cabin entrance. Like Kuro and William, they seemed to care little for Felton's authority as first mate.

The newcomers had all joined the crew after the Kalmar City raid. They hadn't experienced the era when Barbarossa, the "Red Beard," was at his most glorious. Instead, they had arrived to find a brutal and increasingly unhinged captain. During this time, William's generosity and charisma had earned him more respect among the rookies than Barbarossa ever did.

After all, William didn't arbitrarily strangle them and hang their corpses on the bow as wind chimes.

Being repeatedly ignored, especially by one of the ship's rookies, left Felton furious. He moved to stop Kuro but was abruptly blocked and shoved in the chest by Harden, the second mate.

"Harden, have you lost your mind too? How dare you disregard the captain's orders?" Felton's face turned ashen, and two of his closest allies stepped forward to back him up, glaring menacingly at Harden.

However, most of the other crew members, including the veteran pirates, didn't side with Felton—even when he invoked Barbarossa's name.

Barbarossa had once united the crew by delivering success and wealth. His cunning dealings with shore-based and official forces had kept the pirate crew safe and prosperous. His strength allowed him to defeat enemies and minimize casualties among the crew.

A string of victories had earned him immense prestige, and under such circumstances, the crew had tolerated his greed in claiming the lion's share of spoils and his favoritism toward Hayreddin, who bullied other crew members.

But after the Kalmar City debacle, Hayreddin's death, Reis's murder, Barbarossa's failed confrontation with Zeff, and subsequent attacks on their ship and plundering of their wealth, Barbarossa's golden reputation had begun to crack.

In these trying times, the crew might have remained loyal out of respect for past successes. However, Barbarossa's rage had clouded his judgment—or perhaps his long reign as king of the East Blue had made him incapable of accepting such massive setbacks. Instead of calming the crew, he had become increasingly violent and bloodthirsty, draining what little goodwill remained between him and his men.

Now, Barbarossa's paranoia had reached the point where he forbade his crew from boarding the enemy ship during a skirmish. This only deepened the rift between him and his subordinates.

Moreover, Barbarossa's brutality had turned his exceptional strength into a source of unease. Pirates revered strong leaders because their power brought success, victory, and wealth. But a madman whose strength led to the deaths of his own comrades? No matter how formidable, no one would willingly follow such a person.

Simply put, the Red-Beard Pirates, like most pirates, would support a strong leader who brought them victories—not a powerful lunatic.

It's akin to humans refusing to pledge loyalty to a wild beast.

Thus, the veteran pirates on the ship mostly watched the confrontation in silence. They neither openly supported William nor actively enforced Barbarossa's orders to help Felton stop him.

These veterans were the cautious and timid type, unwilling to take sides but worried that a conflict between the two factions might escalate. While they were growing increasingly dissatisfied with Barbarossa, they lacked the courage to openly oppose their increasingly violent captain.

However, braver individuals like Harden, who always led the charge in battle, openly expressed their discontent.

Harden had long been displeased with Felton, who had secured the position of first mate through flattery toward Barbarossa and behaved arrogantly aboard the ship. Harden, who had faced the likes of Zeff without fear, certainly wouldn't be intimidated by someone he considered a bootlicker like Felton.

On the contrary, William's generosity and charm before the Kalmar City incident, coupled with his calm demeanor and ability to stand his ground against Zeff afterward, had earned Harden's admiration. William's courage and strength resonated with Harden's personality.

As for loyalty to Barbarossa, anyone who had seen their comrades hanged on the bow for inexplicable reasons, their bodies left to rot under the sun and wind, would find such loyalty utterly nonexistent.

William patted Harden on the shoulder, and Harden stepped aside, allowing William to approach Felton and his allies, who were now on high alert. William paid no mind to the hands they had placed on their sword hilts.

William was tall, while Felton was short and stocky. As the two faced each other, the contrast was stark. William stared down at Felton with a calm, emotionless expression, his icy blue eyes locked onto Felton's.

William said nothing. Silence, at times, can be a powerful weapon—especially when someone is under the scrutiny of a crowd. The suffocating silence can exert immense psychological pressure.

Felton naturally didn't dare to act rashly. Putting aside William's strength, he was also the ship's sole navigator. With the crew still near the Calm Belt, no one could guarantee a safe return without a navigator.

After a few seconds, Felton, overwhelmed by William's imposing presence, turned his head away, avoiding his gaze. William's eyes shifted to Felton's two allies. His cold, pale-blue eyes seemed to carry a certain magic, forcing them to avert their gazes as well.

With his role as navigator, his reputation for standing up to Zeff, and his display of strength and cunning, William had already risen to become the ship's second-in-command following the deaths of Reis and Hayreddin. He was no longer the insignificant newcomer he had been upon joining.

Felton and his allies, who had initially appeared aggressive, now found themselves utterly subdued without William even needing to speak. The other pirates watching exchanged glances, none daring to make a sound.

Chapter 79

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 79: Borrowing a Head (Part 2)

William waited until beads of sweat began to form on Felton's forehead before finally speaking. His tone was calm and deliberate, yet carried an unmistakable edge. "What's the matter, Felton? My dear first mate, are you suggesting that I don't even have the authority to lower a small boat into the sea?"

The words "first mate" were spoken with a subtle emphasis, laced with sarcasm.

Felton struggled to respond, his voice stiff. "The captain said—"

"Oh, 'the captain said,'" William interrupted with a mocking smile, his tone dripping with derision. "Did the captain also say he'd let you take a bite of the Devil Fruit after he brings it back?"

Felton's face flushed with embarrassment as he clenched his teeth in frustration. But before he could muster a retort, William had already turned away, addressing the surrounding crew loudly without looking back. "Just follow the captain's orders and stay put on the ship. I'm going to have a private chat with our captain—about the future of the brothers aboard this ship."

By aligning himself with the rest of the crew, William subtly positioned himself as one of them, rather than an outsider. Combined with his established reputation, the pirates instinctively parted to make way for him.

With a casual toss, William threw the barrel of liquor onto the small boat before leaping aboard with practiced agility.

"Stolt, do you need me to go with you?" Harden, leaning over the railing, called out loudly. He was clearly a man unafraid of danger.

William laughed heartily. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm going to have a private chat with the captain."

With that, William began rowing the small boat toward the Swordfish Pirates' battered ship.

Once William had departed, Felton finally felt the weight of his fear. Barbarossa was not a forgiving man. If he returned to find that William had disobeyed his orders and that Felton had failed to stop him, the consequences would be dire.

Seething with frustration, Felton shouted at the remaining crew, "You lot didn't help me stop Stolt! What will you tell the captain when he comes back?"

Felton stormed off with his two closest allies, his face filled with anger. Whether that anger was genuine or merely a façade to distance himself from responsibility was anyone's guess.

Harden, however, paid no mind to Felton's petty scheming. Instead, he frowned slightly, watching William's small boat disappear into the distance with a hint of concern.

The other pirates who had been watching the scene began to disperse. Wood, the ship's doctor, stood on the now-empty deck with a worried expression, sighing softly.

Next to him was Hatcheson, the old pirate who had once helped William adjust to life aboard the ship. Hatcheson, who had a good relationship with Wood, took a swig from his flask and tried to offer some comfort. "No matter who ends up coming back to the ship, you've got nothing to worry about. You're the only doctor we've got."

"Let's hope so," Wood muttered, running a hand over his increasingly bald head. "Who do you think will survive?"

"I don't know," Hatcheson exhaled a cloud of stale breath, "but I hope it's Stolt. Without a navigator, how are we supposed to get back?"

Wood pressed his lips together. In truth, he shared the same thought, and he suspected many of the other pirates who had just walked away felt the same. No one wanted Barbarossa, who had grown increasingly unhinged, to return.

By the time William rowed his small boat to the Swordfish Pirates' ship, the deck was devoid of any living crew.

The Swordfish Pirates had never been a large crew to begin with, and after enduring battles in the Grand Line, the hazards of crossing the Calm Belt, and the betrayal of Selkirk and his loyalists, their numbers had dwindled to barely twenty. With Selkirk, their strongest member, abandoned, no one aboard could stand up to Barbarossa.

The deck was littered with blood and corpses. In his haste to claim the Devil Fruit, Barbarossa had gone on a killing spree. Now, the only living souls aboard the ship were William on the bow and Barbarossa in the navigator's cabin at the stern.

…

Meanwhile, Barbarossa was in a disheveled state. His hair and beard, which had been used to strangle and slash through his enemies, were soaked with blood. Without pausing to clean himself, he headed straight for the captain's quarters.

After betraying Selkirk, Caruso had taken up residence in the captain's quarters, bringing the box containing the Devil Fruit with him. Barbarossa had already extracted this information from the mouths of the dying Swordfish Pirates.

The captain's quarters of the Swordfish Pirates' ship were far less luxurious than Barbarossa's own. Though spacious, the room was sparsely furnished. A large nautical chart hung on one wall, while a rough but sturdy desk in the corner was piled with books, including a logbook.

Barbarossa, however, had no interest in any of this. His single eye scanned the room quickly and locked onto a small iron box. He pulled a key from his pocket—the one he had taken from Selkirk—and hurried to open the box.

Pushing open the heavy lid, he was greeted by the sight of a fruit resembling a pineapple, covered in strange, swirling patterns.

Just as Barbarossa reached out to take the Devil Fruit, the sound of approaching footsteps made him freeze. Quickly, he shut the box and turned toward the door.

Standing in the doorway was William, holding a katana glowing red-hot in one hand and a small barrel of liquor in the other. His icy gaze was fixed on Barbarossa, who was crouched near the box.

"Stolt, I knew you were a restless one," Barbarossa said as he slowly rose to his feet. His face betrayed little surprise, remaining unnervingly calm. However, the writhing, claw-like movements of his hair in midair revealed his true emotions. "You want to steal the Devil Fruit?"

William shook his head, a crooked smile forming on his lips. Yet the long months of scheming and waiting for this moment, combined with the burning desire for revenge, twisted his smile into something almost feral.

"Captain, I'm not here for the Devil Fruit. I'm here to borrow your head."

Barbarossa's gaze flicked to the red-hot katana in William's hand, and he sneered. "So, it's mutiny. And you think you're up to the task?"

Without a word, William uncorked the barrel of liquor and took several deep gulps. Then, with a sudden motion, he hurled the barrel toward Barbarossa.

Mid-flight, William swung his katana.

A red flash streaked through the air, followed by a loud boom as the barrel shattered, releasing a burst of flames that surged toward Barbarossa.

Barbarossa stepped back, his beard growing wildly to form a hairy shield in front of him.

The flames collided with the shield, melting through it like a hot knife through butter. Barbarossa quickly swiped at his beard with one hand, severing the burning strands before the fire could spread to his body.

But by then, William had already charged forward like a whirlwind. The flames illuminated his face, casting a fiery glow as he swung his katana. The smoldering remnants of Barbarossa's shield exploded into sparks, some of which landed on the wooden bookshelves and papers, igniting them.

A stray ember landed on William's face, but he seemed unfazed as he swung his blade again.

Barbarossa lashed out with the iron hook on his left hand, catching the edge of William's blade. He reached for the hilt of his curved sword with his right hand, but William twisted his katana, sliding it through the hollow of the hook and thrusting it toward Barbarossa's shoulder.

Barbarossa's chest and arms sprouted hair in an attempt to entangle the katana, but the searing blade emitted a puff of black smoke as it burned through the hair, piercing his shoulder.

"I'll kill you!" Barbarossa roared, his face contorted with pain and rage at the betrayal.

Chapter 80

《One Piece：The True Codex》 Chapter 80: The Demon

The red-hot katana pierced into Barbarossa's body with a sizzle, and the acrid stench of burning flesh quickly filled the air.

"I'll kill you!" Barbarossa snarled, his face twisted in rage. Despite being stabbed, he had already drawn his curved sword.

Barbarossa was nothing if not ruthless. Instead of retreating after being wounded, he stepped forward aggressively. William tried to pull his blade back, but Barbarossa, sweating profusely from the pain, forced his left arm to hook the katana with his iron claw. Then, with a powerful upward slash, he swung his curved sword at the katana.

A sharp clang echoed through the room. The intense heat had weakened the katana's material, and it snapped under the force of the strike. The glowing red tip of the blade spun upward between the two men before flying into the air.

On one side, William's face darkened as he stared at the broken blade in his hand. On the other, Barbarossa grinned savagely.

"You think you can beat me just because I'm not using my Devil Fruit powers?"

As the broken blade reached their eye level, William, who had been silent until now, suddenly spewed a mouthful of the liquor he had been holding in his mouth. The alcohol splashed onto the glowing red-hot fragment, igniting into a burst of flames that roared directly into Barbarossa's face.

Caught off guard, Barbarossa let out a scream. The fiery attack wasn't particularly powerful; though the flames ignited his hair and beard, they were easily extinguished with a pat. The burns on his skin were minor, hardly a concern for a hardened pirate like Barbarossa.

What truly caused his scream was the damage to his single eye. His vulnerable eyeball, exposed to the sudden burst of fire, was seared despite his instinctive attempt to shut his eyelid. The pain was unbearable, and his vision was completely lost.

Panic from the sudden blindness, combined with the intense pain, drove Barbarossa into a frenzy. He wildly swung his sword toward where William had been standing, but William had already rolled to the ground, evading the attack.

A flash of steel sliced through the captain's quarters. Behind William, Barbarossa's slash cleaved through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the wooden structure.

William's roll was anything but graceful, but it brought him to Barbarossa's legs. Without hesitation, he slashed his broken blade across Barbarossa's ankle, severing one of his feet.

With a loud thud, Barbarossa dropped to one knee, and William swiftly moved behind him.

Hearing the sound, Barbarossa swung his curved sword backward in a desperate arc. But William raised his arm to block the swing at its joint, then drove his broken blade into Barbarossa's wrist, severing the hand that gripped the sword.

"This is for Vallon!" William growled, his voice low and cold.

Reaching out, William caught the falling curved sword and, with a powerful swing, hacked off Barbarossa's left arm at the shoulder.

Barbarossa screamed in agony as he toppled to the ground. Blood poured freely from his severed limbs, pooling on the floor.

The fire, sparked by the earlier clash, had spread throughout the room. Flames climbed from the bookshelves, engulfing papers, curtains, and even the wooden walls. Yet William seemed indifferent to the growing inferno. He crouched beside Barbarossa, who was gasping for air.

"Hayreddin, Reis—they were both killed by me," William said, his bloodshot eyes reflecting the flickering flames. His face, smeared with blood, was a terrifying sight. "From the moment I set foot on this ship, I've been planning how to kill you all. But don't worry—you and your brothers won't be lonely. I'll send Arcadio and Roy to join you soon."

Barbarossa, unable to stand, writhed on the floor. His hair, once again, began to writhe and grow, attempting to shield him in his moment of desperation.

William sneered. With a flick of his blade, he threw a burning curtain over Barbarossa.

"Who... who are you?!" Barbarossa screamed.

The hair armor that had once deflected swords ignited instantly upon contact with the flames, turning Barbarossa into a human torch. He rolled on the ground, screaming in agony, until a sharp hiss marked the abrupt end of his cries.

Like an executioner, William stood over the dying pirate, raising the massive curved sword high. With a single, decisive stroke, he severed Barbarossa's head.

The grotesque head rolled across the floor like a ball before coming to a stop under William's boot. "You can ponder that question on your way to the afterlife," William muttered coldly.

《One Piece：The True Codex》Primary Conspirator: 'Red-Beard' Barbarossa. (Deceased)

The notification from the Plaza of Fate appeared before William's eyes. He closed them briefly, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Then, he picked up Barbarossa's bloodied, twisted head and examined it. Grabbing the hair, he tied the head to his belt.

The flames continued to spread, consuming the room. Without wasting any more time, William opened the iron box and retrieved the Devil Fruit, carefully tucking it into his coat.

Before leaving, he cast a glance at the burning desk. The ship's log and other books had already been consumed by the fire. Regretting the loss, he turned and left without looking back.

…

On the bow of the ship, William paused to look back at the captain's quarters, now engulfed in flames. From his coat, he pulled out the Devil Fruit.

His gaze fell on the strange, swirled fruit. His expression was unreadable. This peculiar fruit, small as it was, was worth 100 million Beli—a fortune, and practically priceless. In the East Blue, where such fruits were rare to the point of being legendary, many dismissed their existence as mere fairy tales.

No matter how hard William tried, he couldn't understand how eating such a fruit could grant unimaginable power. But he wasn't a scientist, nor did he have the interest or ability to uncover its mysteries. Before him lay only two choices: eat it or don't.

He hesitated briefly, recalling the weaknesses Barbarossa had displayed due to his Devil Fruit powers. But after only two seconds of deliberation, William raised the fruit and bit into it.

The allure was simply too great. With just one fruit, Barbarossa had risen to infamy as one of the most feared pirates in the East Blue. For William, the temptation was irresistible.

The Plaza of Fate had been a great help to him, but its origins and purpose remained a mystery. It was like suddenly receiving a massive, unexplained fortune—no matter how much you spent, you couldn't shake the unease.

The Devil Fruit, despite its drawbacks, was a kind of insurance.

William took another bite, grimacing as the bitter taste filled his mouth. He didn't stop at one bite, though. Despite the fruit's horrendous flavor, he forced himself to finish it, chewing and swallowing even the skin.

Even with his resilience, the experience left him on his knees. One hand braced against the deck, the other covered his mouth to keep from vomiting.

From the Red-Beard Pirates' ship, a few crew members had been secretly watching William. They noticed a sudden mist rise from the Swordfish Pirates' ship's bow, only to dissipate almost instantly. It was so fleeting they thought it might have been a hallucination.

Leaning weakly against the railing, William muttered to himself, "Endure the bitterest hardships, and you'll rise above others..."

Chapter 81

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 81: The New Captain (Part 1)

As William steered the small boat back toward the Red-Beard Pirates' main ship, he noticed a crowd gathering along the ship's side. The crew had already spotted the fire on the Swordfish Pirates' ship, and some had even noticed the mysterious mist that briefly appeared at the bow.

Uncertain of what had transpired, the pirates eagerly awaited William's return, hoping for answers.

With a light push of his feet, William leapt from the small boat onto the deck of the pirate ship. Despite his bloodied and disheveled appearance, two particularly sycophantic crew members rushed forward, eager to assist him.

However, the moment their hands touched William's body, they recoiled as if shocked by electricity. They quickly blew on their palms, trying to cool the burning sensation.

William frowned slightly. Clearly, he still lacked full control over his newly acquired Devil Fruit powers.

The surrounding pirates, however, didn't notice the strange reactions of the sycophants. Their attention was entirely focused on the severed head William held in his hand, which he had pulled from the back of his belt. Some of the sharper or more astute crew members began to piece together what might have happened. Their expressions varied, but most showed fear and unease.

William ignored their reactions. His sharp gaze swept across the crowd until it landed on Harden, who stood among the group. Without hesitation, he asked, "Did anything happen on the ship while I was gone?"

William's question was directed at the movements of Felton, the first mate. Among the crew of the Red-Beard Pirates, Felton was the one with the greatest motive—and the capability—to stir up trouble.

Yet, to William's surprise, Felton had shown more restraint than expected—or perhaps it was cowardice. Aside from a few harsh words at the beginning, he hadn't made any significant moves.

Harden shrugged and replied, "The prisoners... just now, the hair binding them suddenly fell off." He added nonchalantly, "Luckily, they were still chained up. I had the men add a few more layers of chains to secure them."

William felt a chill run through him. He hadn't anticipated that the Devil Fruit powers would dissipate upon Barbarossa's death. If Selkirk and the other prisoners, despite their injuries and weakened states, had suddenly broken free, it could have caused chaos on the ship. After eliminating Barbarossa, William already considered the entire pirate crew as his own. Any unnecessary losses were unacceptable.

After confirming the situation on the ship, William got straight to the point. "Go gather everyone on the ship and bring them to the bow. I have something to say."

Harden glanced at the severed head in William's hand, his expression complicated. He nodded and pushed through the crowd to summon the rest of the crew.

As Harden left, William turned to the pirates around him, who were either frightened or confused, and commanded, "All of you, follow me!"

The series of major events that had unfolded in just one day had left the crew of the Red-Beard Pirates on edge. A man like William, who consistently demonstrated a clear sense of purpose and planning—in other words, someone who exuded confidence—was a rarity among them. Combined with the respect he had already earned, the crew couldn't help but instinctively follow him as he led them to the bow.

Once at the bow, William grabbed a cloth and sat on the railing near the ship's figurehead. He began meticulously wiping the blood and grime from Barbarossa's severed head. He didn't say a word, simply waiting for the rest of the crew to gather.

During this time, Klo approached and handed him a brand-new katana.

When the ship's elder, Hatcheson, arrived at the bow, he was greeted by the eerie sight of William seemingly toying with a severed head, surrounded by a large group of pirates. Startled, Hatcheson quickly pulled out his flask and took a swig to steady his nerves. Looking around, he realized that aside from the men guarding the prisoners, nearly all the pirates had gathered at the bow.

It was only then that William, who had long since finished cleaning the head, stood up. He gathered the long, disheveled hair of the severed head, revealing Barbarossa's twisted face.

Holding the head by its hair, William turned it to face the gathered pirates. Then, methodically and deliberately, he tied the hair to a rope. He moved slowly, ensuring that every crew member could clearly see the head's identity.

When Hatcheson finally recognized the face, despite having mentally prepared himself, his hand still trembled. His precious flask slipped from his grasp and clattered to the deck.

The crowd stirred uneasily. Some gasped in shock, while others audibly sucked in their breath.

Hatcheson ignored his fallen flask. He rubbed his eyes repeatedly, unwilling to believe what he saw. After confirming the truth, he let out a bitter laugh and muttered to himself, "Looks like we're getting a new captain."

"Red-Beard" Barbarossa had terrorized the East Blue for nearly a decade. Many young men in the region had grown up hearing stories of his infamy. As a Devil Fruit user with connections to corrupt kingdom ministers and Marine officials, Barbarossa had operated with near impunity. The pirates aboard his ship had lived under his shadow for years.

Now, his head had been taken by a young man. While many had already suspected this outcome when William defied orders to lower the small boat, seeing it with their own eyes was still shocking and hard to believe.

William, unhurried, finished tying up Barbarossa's head and hung it prominently for all to see. Then, he stood silently, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. The murmurs and unrest gradually subsided as the pirates fell quiet.

They all looked at William—the man who was not only the ship's sole navigator but also a skilled swordsman and formidable fighter. He had dared to confront the renowned "Red-Leg" Zeff and emerged victorious. Now, he had slain the fearsome Barbarossa, who had been the source of their dread.

In the past, William had earned the crew's respect through his bravery and cunning. But now, there was something new in his gaze—an unprecedented, commanding presence that struck awe into the hearts of those around him.

"Barbarossa is dead," William said calmly, delivering the shocking news as though it were a simple fact.

"No matter how noble the words—freedom, adventure, ambition, dreams—to most of the world, we're nothing more than a band of thieves waiting to be caught," William continued, his tone steady but gaining intensity. "We are outcasts, forced to rely on our own sweat and blood to claim what's ours. We've abandoned stable lives, given up everything, to carve out our fortune on the seas with our blades and our lives."

"But what have we gained in return?" William pointed to Barbarossa's severed head. "Failure is not something to fear. A true man doesn't complain or give up. Even if we're beaten down, as long as we have the ambition to rise again, we'll eventually reclaim what we've lost! But this man, the one we called 'captain'—did he have that ambition? No!"

"He didn't unite us as one. Instead, he became hysterical, cruel, and reckless. We toiled like slaves for meager spoils, constantly fearing not only the weapons of our enemies but also his senseless wrath!"

Chapter 82

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 82: The New Captain (Part 2)

"This man," William declared, drawing his sword and slicing through the rope that held Barbarossa's severed head by its hair. The head tumbled twice on the deck before William stomped on it with his foot. His voice grew louder, evolving into a low roar that silenced the crowd, which had grown restless again after his earlier speech. "He failed to give you and me the rewards we deserved! He could no longer lead us back to glory. Therefore, he is unworthy of being the captain of this ship!"

"But from now on, you will no longer risk your lives for a greedy and foolish captain. Instead, you will march toward a great purpose," William proclaimed loudly. "Because starting today, I am your new captain! I will not only make you wealthy and strong, but I will also lead you to become legends of the East Blue alongside me!"

Hatcheson swallowed hard. Even as a seasoned pirate, he couldn't deny the impact of William's momentum. Backed by the slaying of Barbarossa, his prior reputation, and this fiery speech, William's words carried a powerful, almost hypnotic influence.

"From now on, this ship has a new pirate crew and a new captain. So I'm giving you a choice—a chance for fair challenge," William said, flaring his nostrils as he pointed the tip of his sword toward the crowd. His face still bore a smile, but unlike his usual approachable demeanor, this smile was filled with murderous intent. "Right here, right now! If anyone has objections to me becoming the captain, step forward. I'll give you a chance to challenge me. If you can kill me, everything I just said will be null and void."

The deck fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the sound of the sea breeze sweeping across the ship. No one spoke. More accurately, no one dared to speak, fearing William might mistake them for challengers.

William's smile deepened as he slowly scanned the crowd. He repeated, "I've said what I needed to say. From today onward, I am your new captain. Is there anyone who disagrees?"

While not everyone present was entirely convinced, it was clear that no one had the courage to oppose him at this moment. This man had single-handedly slain Barbarossa, a Devil Fruit user, and was a skilled swordsman with considerable influence among the crew.

The young Nadal, his youthful face flushed with excitement, was the first to respond. Stirred by William's speech, he shouted eagerly, "Captain!"

William's influence over the younger and less experienced pirates was particularly strong. With Nadal taking the lead, the older, more seasoned pirates and the newer recruits couldn't help but follow suit, shouting in unison.

In no time, the deck resounded with cries of "Captain!"

Below deck, the prisoners and the pirates guarding them exchanged confused glances, unsure of what was happening above.

On the deck, William allowed the crew to cheer for a while, basking in the moment. When the cries began to subside, he raised his hand to signal for silence.

"I've heard your voices," William said loudly. "I gave you all a chance, but no one dared to step forward! I'll take that as a sign that no one objects to me becoming the captain. From now on, anyone who dares to disobey my orders will have no one to blame but themselves."

William's tone turned cold as his gaze swept over Felton and his group. Felton, unable to meet William's eyes, reluctantly lowered his head, his expression a mix of resentment and frustration.

"I won't be like Barbarossa, cruelly hanging you alive at the bow of the ship," William said in a chilling voice. "I'll be merciful. I'll personally cut off the heads of those who defy me and toss their bodies into the sea to feed the fish. We are 'men of the sea,' and even in death, we should rest in the ocean."

Hearing this, the ship's doctor, Wood, uneasily touched his thinning hair and shrank back in fear.

William then dismissed the crowd, letting them disperse with their mixed emotions. Only Klo remained by his side.

As Felton left, he cast a venomous glance at William. Seeing that William had returned with nothing but Barbarossa's head, Felton was almost certain that William had consumed the Devil Fruit from the Swordfish Pirates' ship.

To be fair, if Felton had been in William's position, he would have eaten the Devil Fruit without hesitation. Barbarossa's ferocity and prestige as a Devil Fruit user had long been the envy of every pirate on the ship. But this only made Felton feel even more bitter, as if the fruit had rightfully belonged to him.

Still, Felton didn't have the courage to challenge William—not now, and certainly not after William had likely gained a Devil Fruit ability.

He decided it was time to leave. Felton's position as first mate had been secured by clinging to Barbarossa's favor, and Barbarossa had used Felton's rivalry with William to dilute the ship's leadership. Now that Barbarossa was dead, and given his past conflicts with William, Felton doubted he could retain his position under William's command.

Felton resolved to act before William's authority was fully established and his role as captain became unshakable. He planned to rally some loyal crew members and leave the pirate crew once they reached shore.

With enough strength and manpower, and perhaps a few skilled officers, Felton believed he could thrive in another pirate crew—or even start his own and set sail under a new flag.

William watched Felton and his group retreat, his gaze cold and calculating. Once they were out of sight, he allowed himself a moment to savor his victory.

Although William had been a high-ranking professional in his previous life, managing a team of subordinates comparable in number to the current crew, the two experiences were worlds apart.

This ship was like a small, independent kingdom. From today onward, the futures—and even the lives—of everyone aboard were in William's hands. A pirate captain wasn't just the ship's keel, holding everything together; he was also the sails driving it forward, the rudder steering its course, and the anchor providing stability.

This was his ship now, and these were his crew.

Nearly a hundred ruthless pirates, all under his command—a force that would be pivotal in the East Blue.

"No man should go a single day without power," William murmured, his eyes narrowing as he ran his fingers along the ship's railing. For someone intoxicated by power, nothing compared to the thrill of gaining even more.

Klo, ever perceptive, remained silent, allowing William to enjoy this moment of triumph.

After a while, William opened his eyes and glanced at Klo. "Preserve Barbarossa's head. It'll be my gift to Roy and Arcadio when we meet."

(Bonus chapter for reaching 30,000 recommendations. Two chapters released together.)

Chapter 83

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 83: Hearts and Minds (Part 1)

Under the cover of night, the ship, now renamed the Morgan Pirates' vessel, anchored near an uncharted island.

The pirates aboard the ship were puzzled as to why William, who had previously gone by the alias Stolt, decided to name the crew after himself. But now that William was their captain, they had no choice but to obey.

William, however, understood the psychology of pirates—most of whom were uneducated brutes. For them, the depth or sophistication of a crew's name was secondary. What mattered most was simplicity and clarity, especially if the name highlighted the captain's identity. William paid particular attention to this, recognizing it as a subtle yet effective way to enhance his authority and influence over the crew.

Since he had yet to receive a bounty or earn a reputation worthy of a nickname like "Red-Beard," William chose to name the crew after his surname, Morgan, following one of the most common naming conventions among pirates.

Inside a cramped cabin, dim lamplight illuminated the space. Felton, the first mate, and Diego, the ship's helmsman, were drinking together. Their faces were flushed, and their eyes glassy, suggesting they had been at it for quite some time. The only snack on the table was a small plate of peanuts, a rather meager accompaniment for two of the ship's supposed top figures.

Felton took a swig from his bottle and angrily tossed a peanut shell onto the table. He cursed under his breath, "A bunch of bastards. Those fresh-faced brats who've barely been on this ship for a minute, just because they've latched onto Stolt's coattails, now think they can throw their weight around. I asked Nadal to grab us something better to eat with our drinks, and that little punk actually said, 'I need to ask the captain for permission.'"

Since William had taken over as captain, he hadn't immediately overhauled the crew's hierarchy. For the time being, Felton retained his position as first mate. However, everyone on the ship could see that his role was now largely ceremonial, and it was only a matter of time before he was replaced.

Diego, a man in his late twenties, was one of the ship's veterans. With short brown hair, a stocky build, and calloused hands, he looked every bit the seasoned pirate. He picked up his cup and downed another mouthful of alcohol without hesitation, then refilled it from the bottle. Throughout Felton's tirade, Diego remained silent, showing no reaction.

Felton cursed inwardly at Diego's lack of response but didn't let it show. Instead, he slurred, "I'm telling you, this ship is becoming unbearable. Those brats who've barely seen any real action are now calling the shots, while we, the veterans who've bled and fought for this crew, are being pushed aside. It's just not fair."

Diego chewed on a peanut and replied nonchalantly, "Newcomers rising by stepping on veterans—it's always been that way at sea. Didn't Barbarossa rise to power the same way?"

"The problem is, why should we let ourselves be stepped on?" Felton said, his tone hinting at something more.

"He doesn't need to step on us. He's already stepped on Barbarossa's head. And even if he wanted to step on us, what could we do about it? Barbarossa's dead," Diego said, exhaling deeply. His tone carried a hint of bitterness.

Felton scoffed, feigning disdain. "He just used some cheap tricks. Barbarossa's power was weak against fire, and he deliberately prepared a red-hot blade. What's so impressive about that?"

Diego smirked, and Felton's face turned red—not that it was noticeable, given how much he'd already drunk. Both men knew Felton's words were nothing more than an attempt to downplay William's achievement. Even if Felton had known about Barbarossa's weakness, what could he have done? Would he have dared to challenge the infamous Barbarossa alone?

It had been mentioned before that the Red-Beard Brothers were massive, bear-like men. Even the portly Hayreddin was intimidating, while Reis and Barbarossa exuded an oppressive aura simply by their presence. Their sheer size and strength were extraordinary, even by the standards of this world. Without his Devil Fruit abilities, Barbarossa's physical power alone was still far beyond what someone like Felton could handle.

Knowing Diego wasn't foolish enough to believe his words, Felton changed the subject. "Putting that aside, what about the Devil Fruit from the Swordfish Pirates' ship? He didn't bring it back, did he? He must've eaten it himself. That fruit was worth a hundred million Beli! According to Barbarossa, it was supposed to be shared among the whole crew. What gives him the right to keep it for himself? If he's already this unfair, how can anyone trust that he'll be better than Barbarossa in the future?"

Diego couldn't help but click his tongue at the mention of a hundred million Beli, his expression tinged with regret. "So, what are you suggesting?"

Seeing Diego's reaction, Felton felt encouraged and pressed on. "I'm saying, once we reach shore, we leave this wreck of a ship. You're the helmsman, and you've got those throwing knife skills. I've got men loyal to me. If I can rally a few more of the veterans, we'll have strength, experience, and expertise. Anywhere we go, we'd be welcomed as honored guests. Isn't that better than staying here and putting up with those brats?"

Felton grinned smugly. "Let him play king of the kids. He can stay on this ship with those little punks, staring at each other all day. I'd love to see his face when he realizes he can't even get the ship moving!"

Diego chuckled along with him but didn't give a definitive response.

This left Felton dissatisfied. He tried to pry further, but Diego remained noncommittal. Frustrated, Felton eventually stormed off, taking the bottle and peanuts with him.

After Felton left, Diego drained the last of his drink, carefully tilting the cup to catch every drop. When nothing more came out, he slammed the cup onto the table and muttered disdainfully, "Idiot."

Three days ago, William's speech on the deck had been a true display of dominance. Compared to that, his earlier conflict with Zeff and his efforts to win over the crew paled in comparison.

Diego was certain that if anyone had dared to challenge William during that speech—whether by word or action—William would've unleashed a massacre. Even if it meant killing half the crew, William wouldn't have hesitated. Having already eliminated Barbarossa, the greatest obstacle to his authority, William would never tolerate anyone jeopardizing his position. His murderous intent that day had been palpable to anyone paying attention.

That was why, despite his resentment, Felton hadn't dared to speak up at the time. Even now, with William firmly in control, Felton's secret scheming was nothing more than a petty, futile effort.

On a pirate ship, the concept of "legitimacy" might seem laughable, but there was still such a thing as the will of the crew. When William had openly asked if anyone objected to his leadership and no one spoke up, it was as good as the entire crew endorsing him as captain.

Since his captaincy had been tacitly "approved" by the crew, Felton's current actions—conspiring behind William's back while still nominally serving under him—were practically handing William an excuse to deal with him. After all, Felton wasn't like William, whose irreplaceable role as navigator had once shielded him.

With so many people involved, Felton couldn't possibly keep his plans a secret. Sooner or later, someone would report it to their new captain.

Rather than let someone else take the credit for exposing Felton, Diego decided he might as well do it himself.

Chapter 84

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 84: Hearts and Minds (Part 2)

Inside the Morgan Pirates' ship.

The air in the ship's hold was thick with the mingling stench of stale alcohol and the salty tang of the sea. The dimly lit space was cluttered with various odds and ends, and the rhythmic thudding of waves against the hull echoed faintly, creating a claustrophobic atmosphere. For those imprisoned within, the oppressive environment took a heavy toll on their spirits.

Selkirk and his men were among those confined here. Chains and ropes bound them tightly, and their meager rations and dire conditions had left them gaunt and haggard.

It seemed that Barbarossa had previously held prisoners in this space, as the hold had been crudely modified to include a row of makeshift cells. The cells were separated by walls, and those inside could only glimpse the outside world through the iron-barred doors.

Sitting in a chair brought over by his subordinates, William smoked leisurely in front of the cells, positioned so that all the prisoners could see him. With one leg crossed over the other and his eyes half-closed, he gazed at the captives through the haze of smoke, his expression unreadable.

Two pirates approached the cell doors, carrying food and water for the prisoners. However, to prevent them from regaining too much strength, the rations were pitifully small: just a piece of bread and a half-bowl of water.

Bound by chains and unable to use their hands, the prisoners had no choice but to eat and drink off the floor like animals. The lack of proper sanitation only added to the foul stench around the cells.

One of the captured pirates from the Swordfish Pirates kicked over his plate and bowl, crawling to the bars with a defiant glare. He shouted at William, "If you're going to kill us, then do it already! Stop humiliating us like this!"

He pressed his head against the gaps in the bars as if trying to squeeze through and bite William.

But William remained unmoved, as though he hadn't heard a word. He waited until his men finished distributing the rations, smoked two more cigarettes, and then left the hold without saying a single word to the prisoners.

When William emerged onto the deck, Klo and Harden immediately approached him.

Klo asked, "Are you planning to keep those men locked up forever? You've already got the Devil Fruit."

William tapped his temple with the hand holding his cigarette. "They came from the Grand Line, and they've crossed the Calm Belt. The knowledge in their heads is just as valuable as a Devil Fruit."

"They're just a bunch of deserters. I don't see why you value them so much," Klo said with a sneer. The value of a Devil Fruit was self-evident, and in Klo's eyes, Selkirk and his men were nothing more than a group of defeated cowards. They had been tricked by their own subordinates into abandoning their ship and were nearly starved to death on a deserted island. To Klo, they were utterly foolish and not worth comparing to a Devil Fruit.

William glanced at him and said calmly, "That's why I'm the captain, and you're just a quartermaster."

Klo fell silent immediately.

Harden, seeing Klo's embarrassment, let out a raspy laugh and asked William, "So, what's the plan for these prisoners?"

"Separate them. Isolate them completely so they can't communicate with each other," William ordered as he walked toward the captain's cabin. "Reduce their food supply even further. Starve them for a few more days. If they still have the energy to shout, it means they're not hungry enough yet."

After a moment of thought, William added, pointing to the prisoner who had just insulted him, "Tomorrow, after you distribute their rations, separate them. But that one? Don't give him any food. Make sure the others see it."

From the intelligence gathered so far, William knew that Selkirk and his men were originally from the North Blue and had ventured into the Grand Line. Their knowledge of other seas could be incredibly valuable to him. Additionally, since they weren't locals to the East Blue, they were unfamiliar with the region and the Morgan Pirates. If they could be recruited, they would bring fresh perspectives and help diversify the crew's composition.

When they reached the captain's cabin, they found Diego, the ship's helmsman, waiting outside. He was glancing around nervously, his demeanor somewhat furtive.

William couldn't help but chuckle. "Why are you sneaking around like this on our own ship?"

William's tone was warm and his choice of words deliberate. By using phrases like "our ship" and "we," he fostered a sense of camaraderie.

In truth, before becoming captain, William hadn't been particularly close to Diego. His relationships with veterans like Hatcheson, who had helped him navigate the ship as a rookie, or Harden, with whom he had shared the experience of opposing Zeff, were much stronger.

However, William's friendly attitude clearly pleased Diego. It was a stark contrast to Felton, who had tried to recruit him earlier but had left in a huff when Diego refused to commit, even taking back the drinks and snacks he'd brought.

Diego's expression turned serious, emphasizing the gravity of the situation and the importance of his report. "Captain, Felton's been acting up."

"Oh?" William's smile didn't falter, his demeanor as calm as ever. "What's he been up to? Let's talk inside."

Diego followed William into the cabin, silently admiring his composure. If it had been Barbarossa or Felton in William's place, they likely would have reacted with anger, demanding to know what Felton had done. Diego even suspected that William wouldn't bat an eye if he were told the ship was surrounded by the Marines.

As a veteran pirate, Diego didn't believe for a second that William was as carefree as he appeared. But this outward calm was crucial for maintaining the crew's confidence. To Diego, a captain like William—who always seemed to have everything under control—was far more reassuring than someone like Felton, whose petty and impulsive nature often clouded his judgment.

Once inside the cabin, William didn't rush to interrogate Diego. Instead, he poured four glasses of wine, handing one each to Klo, Harden, and Diego before pouring one for himself. Only after taking a seat at his desk did he casually ask, "So, what's that idiot Felton been up to?"

Klo and Harden, who had initially been tense after hearing Diego's report, relaxed as they watched William's methodical actions. All eyes turned to Diego.

Diego began, "He's been trying to rally some of the veteran pirates on the ship. He approached me earlier, trying to recruit me to his side."

"Idiot," William said dismissively after taking a sip of his wine. "And a reckless one at that."

When William had plotted to overthrow Barbarossa, he hadn't openly conspired on the ship. At the time, he had been the sole navigator, making himself indispensable.

William had planned to deal with Felton and his followers later, but it seemed Felton was impatient to meet his end.

As someone skilled at consolidating power and undermining others, William wasn't about to let someone like Felton undermine him.

Swirling his wine glass, William turned to Klo and Harden with a smile. "It seems that before we can recruit those prisoners, we'll need to clean up some of the instability on this ship and 'unify' our crew."

Klo, whose interests were now closely tied to William's, and Harden, who had been handling various tasks for him, were both firmly aligned with their captain. The crew already viewed Harden as one of William's trusted aides.

Without hesitation, Harden asked, "What's the plan?"

William leaned back in his chair and replied with a question of his own, "What did I say on the deck that day?"

Chapter 85

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 85: Shrouded in Steam

As before, William sat on a chair brought over by his subordinates, legs crossed as he observed Selkirk. This time, however, Selkirk was being held in solitary confinement, and the room was empty save for the two of them.

After a long silence, William finally spoke. "The subordinates who betrayed you—they're all dead."

Selkirk's circumstances had already been thoroughly interrogated when he was first captured. The story was clear: he had been tricked by his own first mate, lured off the ship, and then abandoned.

Even the strongest of men would weaken after enduring prolonged hunger. Selkirk, now gaunt and exhausted, had clearly been worn down. William's previous strategy of remaining silent throughout their interactions had left a deep impression on the prisoners, including Selkirk. Combined with the fatigue tactics, their willpower had significantly eroded, leaving them less hostile and far more pliable.

Selkirk looked William up and down before rasping, "So, you're the one in charge now?"

"Of course!" William replied with a faint smile. He stood up from his chair, crouched in front of the cell door, and pulled out a cigarette, waving it in front of Selkirk.

Selkirk hesitated before leaning toward the bars, extending his head cautiously.

William placed the cigarette in Selkirk's mouth and personally lit it for him before lighting one for himself.

Selkirk took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before slowly exhaling. His voice was rough as he asked, "What are you planning to do with us? Kill us? You've already got the Devil Fruit, haven't you? We're useless now."

"Is that what you think?" William shook his head. "You're not fit to be a captain."

Selkirk's expression darkened, but given his current predicament, he could only let out a bitter laugh. "You're right. I'm not fit to be a captain. I dragged my comrades into the Grand Line without proper preparation, and most of them ended up dead or injured. Then I got abandoned on a deserted island by my own crew and nearly starved to death. And now, I'm just a prisoner. I really don't have much reason to keep living."

"You were indeed a failure as a captain," William said, his tone calm. "But your luck has turned. If this ship's original captain were still in charge, he would've killed you and your pitiful subordinates outright. He wouldn't have wasted his resources or the ship's space keeping you alive for so long." William lightly tapped the tightly sealed cell door with his finger. "But I see value in you..."

William pointed to his own head. "If you're such a failure as a captain, why not try a different role?"

"You want me to surrender and join your crew? Do you think a few words are enough to turn enemies into allies?" Selkirk quickly caught on to William's intentions.

"Enemies? Allies?" William scoffed, pointing his cigarette at Selkirk. "Don't be so naive. We're pirates, not children. This isn't some playground where a spat means swearing off talking to each other forever. The sea isn't a kindergarten. Other than the Marines, we have no permanent enemies. And making friends isn't about personal likes or dislikes. For pirates, there are only two rules for relationships."

"And what are those?"

"Strength," William said, "and, most importantly—shared goals."

Even from within his cell, Selkirk couldn't help but sneer. "Strength? A pirate from the East Blue is lecturing me about strength? And what's your goal? To dominate the East Blue? The weakest of all seas?"

Years of World Government propaganda and deep-seated prejudice had firmly established the East Blue as the weakest and least significant of the four seas. Pirates from other regions often looked down on those from the East Blue.

Selkirk, being from the North Blue, had grown up in a sea far more chaotic and dangerous than the East Blue. Even the fact that the Pirate King Roger had been executed in the East Blue was seen by many as an insult. Considering that the East Blue was Roger's homeland, the disdain for pirates from this region was deeply ingrained.

William smiled faintly. "Roger and Garp, legends among both pirates and the Marines, were both born in this sea."

Selkirk scrutinized William. "You're awfully arrogant. Do you think you're on par with the Pirate King?"

William, seeing Selkirk's dismissive attitude, broke into a wide grin, leaving Selkirk utterly baffled.

Boom!

Selkirk flinched as a sudden explosion erupted less than half a meter in front of him. A wave of heat surged toward him, and he let out a scream as the blast's force knocked him over. He landed on the floor, his exposed skin turning red from the heat.

The cell door rattled violently under the force of the shockwave but remained firmly locked. When Selkirk looked up, William was already inside the cell.

Amid the rising heat, steam swirled around William's body. His foot pressed down on Selkirk's chest, and wisps of white vapor continuously emanated from his body, raising the temperature in the cramped cell. A nearby candle melted into a puddle within moments.

The spot where William's foot rested on Selkirk's chest sizzled like it was being branded with a hot iron.

Looking down at Selkirk, William opened his mouth, and a puff of white steam escaped with a soft hiss. The faint vapor surrounded his face, and in Selkirk's weakened, delirious state, he almost thought he was hallucinating. From his vantage point, William appeared like a god descending from the clouds.

"Weaklings," William said, his voice cold and commanding, "have no right to choose."

...

Later that afternoon, the ship's doctor Wood, first mate Felton, helmsman Diego, and veteran pirate Hatcheson were summoned to the captain's cabin for a meeting about the ship's affairs.

This was one of the key differences between William and Barbarossa. Barbarossa rarely consulted anyone outside of his brothers, Reis and Hayreddin, when making decisions. He simply issued orders.

William, on the other hand, while equally decisive and with his plans firmly in place, was willing to listen to the opinions and suggestions of others—even if only as a gesture. Ultimately, whether or not he adopted their advice was entirely up to him.

This approach made his subordinates feel valued and recognized, reinforcing their sense of importance within the crew. Additionally, for decisions likely to provoke dissent, William could shift the blame onto those who had participated in the discussions, redirecting the crew's anger toward mid-level leaders instead of himself.

Wood, Hatcheson, and the others, being simple-minded individuals—a doctor, a drunkard, and a brute—had no inkling of William's calculated strategies. They were instead impressed by his leadership style. Even Felton, who had always been at odds with William, privately admitted that William's leadership seemed far more open-minded than Barbarossa's.

Under Diego's wary gaze, Felton was the first to enter the captain's cabin. Upon stepping inside, he noticed something unusual. In addition to Harden, who had recently grown close to William, and quartermaster Klo, the prisoner Selkirk was also present.

William gestured for everyone to sit before turning to pour drinks. It had become his habit to personally serve wine whenever hosting meetings in his cabin. The crew had grown accustomed to this ritual.

Felton, without waiting for an invitation, grabbed a chair and sat down. Pointing at Selkirk, he asked bluntly, "Why isn't this guy still locked up in the brig?"

Chapter 86

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 86: The Beast

Although Selkirk had changed into a fresh set of clothes, he still looked somewhat disheveled. Apart from the scars left by Barbarossa when subduing him, he now bore conspicuous burn marks on his face. Upon hearing Felton's blunt question, Selkirk's eye twitched slightly as he glanced at William.

William gave Selkirk a meaningful look before smiling warmly at Felton. "I've spoken with Selkirk. He has agreed to join the Morgan Pirates."

Selkirk nodded in acknowledgment toward Harden, Klo, and the others, who responded with polite gestures in return. Felton, however, ignored Selkirk entirely, muttering under his breath, "Another damn rookie."

His voice was so low that only he could hear it in the room.

Ship doctor Wood, along with Hatcheson and Harden, took their wine glasses from William and found seats to settle into, much like Felton. Meanwhile, Diego, Klo, and Selkirk remained standing behind the seated officers, whispering quietly among themselves.

This particular meeting in the captain's cabin wasn't specifically about Felton, nor was it an attempt to assign blame. William genuinely had important matters to discuss with his officers. Of course, given William's personality, it was more of a briefing, with him delegating tasks and letting his subordinates refine the details. However, for those who had endured life under Barbarossa's rule, even this semblance of consultation was a significant improvement.

"I think the incident in Kalmar City taught us a valuable lesson," William began, leaning lazily against the wide chair behind his desk, his expression relaxed. "Random and unplanned raids like before don't do much to help us grow."

His relaxed demeanor seemed to influence the others in the room. Hatcheson, after taking a large swig of his wine, asked curiously, "Didn't we always have plans and clear targets for our raids?"

As an experienced pirate, Hatcheson had long suspected that the crew's targets weren't chosen randomly. He had even speculated that Barbarossa had connections with certain factions on land. The events in Kalmar City—where their ship's captain's quarters were ransacked, their treasure map stolen, and their ship damaged, forcing Barbarossa to seek help from Arcadio—had essentially confirmed these suspicions.

Everyone in the room knew that their past raids had often been prearranged, unlike other pirate crews that wandered aimlessly across the seas in search of prey.

"I'm talking about our own plans," William clarified. "Running around to hit targets prearranged by our so-called 'partners' might be safer and easier, but it doesn't do much for our long-term development. And piling up treasure in some rundown hideout to gather dust? Even without this recent robbery, it's a stupid strategy."

Felton sneered. "And where would you put it? In a bank? Do you think they'd take it? Even if they did, I wouldn't trust them. We're pirates! Our income is illegal. Those bloodsucking merchants would love to work with the government to 'legally' swallow our money. That would be even less secure."

William wagged his finger. "It's not time to talk about banks yet. What I mean is that we should invest some of the spoils we get from our raids into businesses. Start some ventures. I've got connections on land, so you don't need to worry about how to set them up."

Felton shook his head vigorously, showing his disapproval without hesitation. The others in the room also looked skeptical. After all, they were pirates. Wood might have read a few books as a doctor, but he knew nothing about running a business. For the rest, venturing into such an unfamiliar field felt daunting. Even pirates, known for their love of adventure, tended to be cautious when stepping into the unknown—especially when it involved risking their hard-earned, blood-soaked loot.

Only Klo's eyes lit up with excitement. He straightened in his seat, staring at William in surprise.

"What if no one on the ship knows how to handle this kind of thing? What if we get scammed? What if we lose money?" Harden asked hesitantly.

"What if?" William smiled and countered with a question of his own. "If someone dares to scam us, we'll hunt them down and flay them alive. As for losing money—why would we lose money?"

"Business relies on maritime trade, and we're one of the largest pirate crews in the East Blue. Who could compete with us? Are your blades made of paper? We're willing to raid ships and pillage villages for strangers, but when it comes to our own business, you're telling me we wouldn't dare take action?"

William's words were sharp and to the point. In his previous life, he had studied the rise of various historical trading companies, like the infamous East India Companies. These corporations hadn't thrived because of advanced technology or superior products; their success stemmed from sheer military might, which they used to monopolize trade.

While William had no intention of dealing in drugs or slaves, he wasn't exactly a saint. The accumulation of capital was always a bloody process. Even in his previous world, where modern laws supposedly ensured fair competition, businesses often resorted to underhanded tactics. In earlier times, competition was resolved with bullets and bayonets.

The Morgan Pirates might not have the backing of a nation like the East India Companies did, but the principle was the same: use force to protect trade and use trade to sustain and grow their force.

The others in the room might still have their doubts now, but William was confident that once they started reaping the benefits, they would fully embrace the idea. He knew exactly how quickly and ferociously this beast of a plan could grow.

"Additionally," William continued, swirling his wine glass, "this would allow us to provide for our crew. In our line of work, injuries are inevitable. If someone dies, that's the end of it. But what about those who are left disabled or can't fight anymore? And what about when our crew members grow old? If we establish some businesses, we can give them a place to go."

Felton snorted sarcastically. "You're really thinking far ahead, planning for retirement and all."

The others, however, didn't share Felton's mocking tone. They seemed deep in thought. Wood, in particular, appeared contemplative. As one of the older members of the crew, and not particularly skilled in combat, William's words resonated with him.

Unbeknownst to him, Wood was starting to feel a growing respect for William. Adjusting his posture, he looked at the young captain, eager to hear what other ideas he might have.

William took a slow sip of his wine before speaking again, his tone calm and composed. "There's one more thing I need to address—something about the crew."

He suddenly turned to Felton, who had been the most vocal opponent throughout the discussion. With an expressionless face, William asked, "I've heard that you've been recruiting people on the ship lately. Are you dissatisfied with me? Planning to rebel against my authority?"

Chapter 87

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 87: Easy to Talk To

Felton was startled and tried to stand up from his chair, but before he could move, four powerful hands pressed him back down. Turning his head, he saw the hands belonged to Klo and Diego.

Unbeknownst to him, Selkirk had already risen and moved behind him. From his sleeve, Selkirk pulled out a long, thick rope. As soon as Diego and Klo restrained Felton, Selkirk looped the rope around Felton's neck and began to tighten it, slowly increasing the pressure.

Caught off guard, Felton panicked and struggled desperately, but Diego and Klo held him down with unyielding strength. The chair beneath him creaked and scraped against the floor as he thrashed, the sound sharp and grating. The suffocating sensation quickly overwhelmed him, and his wide-open eyes filled with terror.

Wood, the ship's doctor, and Hatcheson had already risen from their seats, their faces pale as they watched Felton's face turn red from oxygen deprivation.

Wood was drenched in sweat. He had no idea why the situation had escalated so suddenly. Everything had seemed fine—William had been relaxed, even jovial—and now the atmosphere was tense and dangerous. Wood stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

Hatcheson instinctively reached for his sword, but when his gaze fell on Harden, who remained calm and composed in his chair, he hesitated. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, but he didn't draw it.

Glancing at William, Hatcheson saw him sitting behind the desk, his expression still light and easygoing, as if he were merely observing a casual conversation. William's eyes, however, were fixed on Wood and Hatcheson with an amused glint.

"Why are you standing?" William asked, smiling at the pale-faced Wood and Hatcheson. "Sit back down, both of you."

Trembling, Wood and Hatcheson cautiously returned to their seats, their muscles tense and ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. They kept glancing over their shoulders, wary of any sudden movements.

William chuckled at their unease. By now, Felton's struggles had weakened significantly. Selkirk, with his considerable strength, was tightening the rope to the point where Felton's neck was nearly crushed.

Gradually, Felton stopped moving altogether. Wood and Hatcheson were drenched in sweat, their clothes sticking to their skin.

Only then did William rise from behind the desk. Selkirk loosened the rope and stepped back alongside Diego and Klo. Felton's lifeless head lolled forward, his neck limp and broken.

With a flash of steel, William drew his sword. His mastery of swordsmanship allowed him to calculate distances with exceptional precision. The blade sliced cleanly through Felton's neck, severing his head, which rolled onto the floor.

Felton's headless body swayed in the chair for a moment before collapsing with a heavy thud. Blood quickly pooled beneath the corpse, filling the room with the unmistakable stench of iron and death.

A few drops of blood splattered onto William's face. Klo, ever attentive, immediately produced a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to William.

"Perhaps you think I'm conducting a purge," William said calmly as he wiped the blood from his face, addressing Wood and Hatcheson. "Felton probably thought the same—that I wouldn't tolerate him and would get rid of him eventually. But you're underestimating me if you think that's all there is to it."

"Whatever happened in the past, I won't pursue it. From the moment you all stood on the deck and accepted me as your captain, I've chosen to let bygones be bygones. Before that moment, I wasn't your captain, and you hadn't pledged your loyalty to me." William's gaze swept over Selkirk, Klo, Diego, and Harden, making it clear that his words were meant for them as well.

"I gave everyone a chance to challenge me back on the deck. Felton didn't step forward, which meant he acknowledged me as the captain. And yet, he went behind my back, stirring up trouble and secretly rallying the crew, planning to leave.

"Tell me," William asked with a smile, "should I have let him go?"

The smile on his face was warm, but his eyes were cold.

"He thought he could just walk away as he pleased. In a pirate crew, loyalty is paramount. If you have any complaints, bring them to me directly. I'm actually very easy to talk to when it comes to my own people. But if you pull the kind of stunts Felton did, I won't be lenient. I'm a man of my word."

William turned to Diego and instructed, "Just like I said back on the deck—throw his body into the sea."

Diego nodded, grabbed Felton's corpse, and left the room without hesitation.

Wood wiped the sweat from his forehead, silently cursing. Strangling a man to death—is that what you call 'easy to talk to'? Of course, he didn't dare voice his thoughts.

Oddly enough, both Wood and Hatcheson felt more at ease now. They realized that as long as they had been loyal and obedient since William became captain, they had nothing to fear. William wasn't acting out of madness; he was methodical and deliberate.

Wood ran a hand over his balding head, now slick with sweat. Forcing a strained smile, he said, "Felton deserved it. If he had any objections, he should've voiced them openly. Sneaking around like that only makes him look cowardly and contemptible."

William's smile widened as he nodded slowly. Hatcheson, emboldened by the exchange, took a swig of his drink and cautiously asked, "What about the men loyal to Felton? How should we deal with them?"

William turned to Harden instead of answering directly. "What do you think we should do?"

Harden grinned, baring his teeth. "Those guys were Felton's die-hard supporters. They'll never truly come around. My suggestion is…" He dragged a finger across his throat, the gesture leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"Then kill them all," William said without hesitation. "You handle it."

Klo's eyes flickered with understanding. He knew why William had chosen Selkirk to strangle Felton.

Even though Felton was a "traitor," having Selkirk—a newcomer from the North Blue—carry out the execution would instill fear and distrust among the crew members native to the East Blue. It would make it even harder for these outsiders to be fully accepted.

However, Klo couldn't quite grasp the deeper significance behind William's latest orders. As someone who understood William's cunning better than most, Klo knew that every action William took had a purpose. He wasn't a man who killed indiscriminately.

…

Instead of heading directly to Kalmar City, William first ordered the crew to lower the pirate flag and dock at Maple Village for rest and resupply.

Although the Morgan Pirates hadn't faced any major battles during their recent journey into the Calm Belt, the crew had been on edge the entire time, eating and sleeping in constant fear. Adding to the tension was the change in leadership, which left the crew unsettled. William decided it was best to let them rest on home turf for a while. He also needed to reorganize the crew's responsibilities.

Having just executed Felton and his loyalists in a display of ruthless authority, William wasn't worried about the crew disobeying his orders or causing trouble in the village. Furthermore, with Tony's uncle Omar serving as the village chief, there was no risk of attracting the attention of the Marines or other authorities.

Exhausted from the recent journey and the effort it had taken to assert his dominance, William kept his interactions with the crew brief upon arrival. He gave a few simple instructions regarding their tasks in the village before retreating to rest.

Chapter 88

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 88: The Eye of Horus

In Maple Village, the largest public bathhouse, known locally as the money bath, was completely cleared out. Inside and outside the bathhouse, not a single soul remained except for William.

The chimney of the bathhouse had ceased emitting smoke, as all the staff had been driven away.

Aramis, Edmond, Tony, and Sherlock, the core members of William's old crew stationed in Maple Village, approached from a distance.

"Why would William come here?" Aramis asked curiously. After the Morgan Pirates docked, he had been tasked by William to organize the crew's disembarkation and rest arrangements. He had been running around tirelessly and hadn't had a chance to speak much with William.

Sherlock loosened his tie and replied casually, "William is exhausted. He said he wanted to relax for a bit."

After all, Barbarossa was a notorious pirate in the East Blue, and a Devil Fruit user to boot. William had been walking a tightrope, careful not to draw the attention of Arcadio, Roy, or the forces of the World Government and Marines. Life aboard the ship had been like navigating a minefield—every day was fraught with tension.

Since the day he boarded the ship, William's nerves had been tightly wound, never allowing himself a moment of relaxation. Only now, after everything had settled somewhat, could he finally let his guard down and ease the pressure.

After delegating immediate tasks to his officers and the old crew in Maple Village, William had ordered the bathhouse to be cleared out so he could rest alone. He had only instructed his old crew to come find him there once they had finished their work.

"Relax, huh..." Tony drawled, his tone suggestive as he chuckled mischievously. "Why didn't he say so earlier? I could've arranged for some women to come over."

Sherlock ignored him, instead peering curiously at the chimney. "But if everyone's been chased away, and no one's here to heat the water, how's he supposed to take a bath?"

Despite their curiosity, the group entered the bathhouse. Without staff present, they had to grab towels and other items from the duty station themselves. Edmond, full of curiosity, tried to sneak into the women's bath area but was promptly pulled back by Sherlock.

As they entered the changing room connected to the bath area, they immediately noticed the rising temperature. Edmond quickly changed, wrapping a towel around his waist before eagerly pulling open the door to the bath area.

The moment he did, a wave of heat surged out, the stark temperature difference momentarily stealing his breath. The bath area was filled with steam, obscuring his vision. He held the door open to let some of the steam escape before he could make out the scene inside.

William was seated in a steaming pool, his back to the door. His arms rested lazily on the edges of the pool, his head tilted back slightly, with a white towel draped over his face as if he were asleep.

He was shirtless, revealing a tattoo of an eye on his back. The tattoo had been inked earlier that year, before Vallon and Edmond were attacked by Barbarossa and his Red-Beard Pirates. William had sought out a tattoo artist and had it done alone.

None of William's companions knew the meaning behind the design; only William himself understood its significance.

The Eye of Horus, derived from Egyptian mythology, symbolized divine protection and supreme sovereignty.

Ancient Egyptians also believed the Eye of Horus played a role in resurrection and rebirth. The symbol was often found on the mummies of pharaohs.

The tattoo's primary purpose was to conceal the Celestial Dragon's Hoof brand on William's back. He had covered the mark with a larger circular scar, which served as the pupil of the Eye of Horus. The red scar and black ink combined to create a simple yet eerie "eye."

William had provided only the basic eye design, but the tattoo artist had added artistic embellishments, including a faintly colored lotus flower and eagle wings behind the eye.

The tattoo covered most of William's back. In the swirling mist of the bathhouse, the black ink and red pupil made the Eye of Horus seem almost alive, staring intently at anyone behind him.

The circular scar at the pupil's center had been branded by Gin, who didn't know about the Celestial Dragon's Hoof but understood that William wanted to keep the mark a secret. Gin had never spoken to anyone about the design or its significance.

William himself didn't care about the stigma of being a slave. Even if he didn't remember phrases like "Adversity breeds strength" or historical examples of humble beginnings leading to greatness, he still recalled the famous line: "Are kings and nobles born to their status?"

For someone like William, who was rebellious by nature, social status was irrelevant. Besides, the identity of a slave technically belonged to the original owner of this body, not to him as a transmigrator.

However, William had lived in this world long enough to understand that he couldn't view everything solely from his own perspective as an outsider.

The Celestial Dragons were the face and emblem of the World Government. In this world, even pirates were reluctant to directly oppose the government. Although William's crew wouldn't look down on him for his slave status—his strength and cunning were undeniable—the mark represented his contentious relationship with the Celestial Dragons. This could cause unease and hesitation among his crew.

Thus, not even Aramis or the late Vallon knew about the mark. Only Gin, whose steady character and unwavering loyalty were evident to William through both past-life memories and personal observation, was privy to the secret. Even then, Gin didn't know the full story and had no interest in uncovering it.

One by one, Aramis and the others entered the bath area and approached the pool. It wasn't particularly deep; sitting on the steps only submerged them up to their waists.

Edmond, ever carefree, stepped directly into the pool but immediately let out a yelp and jumped out faster than he had entered, grimacing in pain. "Why is it so hot?!"

Sherlock frowned in confusion. "I noticed the chimney wasn't smoking earlier, and there's no staff here. Who heated the water?"

"I did," William replied, pulling the towel off his face and finally looking at the group. "With my Devil Fruit ability."

The others knew that the Morgan Pirates, previously the Red-Beard Pirates, had ventured into the Calm Belt and that William had consumed a Devil Fruit. However, they were still unclear about the specifics of his ability.

Aramis, curious and intrigued, asked, "What kind of fruit did you eat?"

"Logia," William answered, raising his right hand, which transformed into a cloud of steam, vaguely retaining the shape of a hand. "As for its exact name, fruits don't talk—they can't tell me. How would I know? Maybe I'll have to come up with a name for it myself someday."

Chapter 89

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 89: Degrees of Closeness

Where did Devil Fruits come from? What were the rules for naming them? William had no idea.

All he knew was the common knowledge that most people in this world had about Devil Fruits: they were categorized into Logia, Zoan, and Paramecia types.

The defining feature of Logia fruits was the ability to "elementalize" the user's body, transforming it into a non-physical state, rendering most conventional physical attacks ineffective.

Zoan fruits allowed the user to transform into an animal or a hybrid form, enhancing certain physical traits and greatly improving their combat capabilities, especially in close-quarters fights.

Paramecia fruits, on the other hand, were incredibly diverse. Any ability that didn't fall under Logia or Zoan could be classified as Paramecia.

Although there were differences in power even within the same category, Logia fruits were undoubtedly the rarest and most powerful of the three types overall.

Even Barbarossa's Paramecia-type Fur-Fur Fruit had been enough to leave William, despite his years of swordsmanship training, at a loss. He could only exploit the fruit's weaknesses to gain the upper hand. The incredible abilities of Logia fruits, which allowed the user to transform into an element, were on a whole different level.

William understood all this, and so did the others in the bathhouse. When William mentioned that his fruit was a Logia type, the reactions were immediate.

Tony's expression turned complicated as he tried to mask his envy. Meanwhile, Aramis and Edmond's faces lit up with unrestrained excitement. Even Sherlock, who was usually more composed, tightened his grip on the towel in his hand, clearly unable to remain unaffected.

"Jackpot!" Edmond exclaimed, waving his towel in the air. "If it's a Logia, do we even need to worry about Roy or Arcadio anymore?"

"There might not be anyone in the East Blue who can stand against you," Edmond continued, growing more animated as he paced back and forth in the pool. "Let's just take those two bastards out, avenge Vallon, and chop them into pieces!"

Tony quickly suppressed his envy and chimed in to support Edmond's suggestion.

Aramis remained silent, though his expression suggested he was tempted by the idea.

William, still leaning lazily against the edge of the pool, watched Edmond with a calm gaze, showing none of his enthusiasm. Sherlock, despite harboring a deep desire for revenge against Arcadio for his father's death, was more composed. He didn't voice support for Edmond's bold plan, his mind clearly weighing the consequences.

The sound of approaching footsteps came from outside the bathhouse. A moment later, the sliding door was pulled open, and a voice called out before the person even entered: "Who are we chopping into pieces?"

"Gin!" Edmond shouted excitedly when he saw who it was.

The newcomer was indeed Gin, whom William had sent to infiltrate the Marines as a spy. Unlike Edmond and the others, who had stayed in Maple Village, Gin had been stationed at a Marine outpost. He had taken leave, changed into civilian clothes, and rushed back here, avoiding unnecessary attention along the way.

Aramis teased, "Are you here to arrest us?"

Gin responded by flipping him off, then walked over to the pool and sat down unceremoniously next to William. William smiled and patted Gin on the shoulder, his gesture brimming with a closeness that far exceeded what he showed to the others.

Although everyone present was part of William's old crew and trusted confidants, the seating arrangement in the pool subtly revealed the dynamics of their relationships.

Tony sat the farthest away, directly across from William. This wasn't because William was deliberately distancing himself from Tony, but because Tony himself felt awkward. As the nephew of Omar, the village chief of Maple Village, and a former local big shot, Tony had always considered the village his territory. Now that William had established his land-based operations here, Tony couldn't help but feel that his position was different from the others.

Even though Sherlock's earlier words had dispelled some of Tony's unrealistic expectations, he still struggled to fully integrate with the group. Unlike Edmond, Aramis, or Sherlock, Tony couldn't bring himself to show complete submission to William.

Sherlock, on the other hand, sat in a corner not far from William's right hand. After the collapse of the Flash Gold Guild, Sherlock had killed a local official and Sassarian's mistress before seeking refuge with William. Having burned his bridges, Sherlock was now firmly tied to William's ship, both figuratively and literally.

Despite still having some wealth and connections from his family's long-standing business, Sherlock knew that in these chaotic times, wealth without power made him nothing more than a fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered. To rebuild his family's business and reputation, and more importantly, to avenge his father Sassarian by killing Arcadio, the Navia Kingdom's Minister of Finance, Sherlock had no choice but to rely on William.

Standing in the center of the pool, Edmond was a different case altogether. Unlike Tony and Sherlock, whose relationships with William were complicated by interests and personal agendas, Edmond's loyalty was straightforward. He admired William's talent in swordsmanship, his foresight in building a smuggling business, and his resilience in the face of adversity.

At just eighteen years old, William had boarded the infamous Barbarossa's ship alone, avenged his fallen comrade Vallon, and successfully seized control to become the new captain. Edmond was utterly in awe of him.

As for Aramis, who lounged lazily on William's left, he was the most senior of William's companions. Although Vallon's death had caused some tension between him and Edmond, there was no visible animosity on the surface.

Then there was Gin. Everyone in the bathhouse knew that Gin was the most obedient to William's commands. Despite his deep-seated hatred for the Marines, Gin had followed William's orders without complaint, infiltrating a Marine base as a low-ranking soldier. He endured the daily grind and hid his disdain behind a mask.

If William had assigned the same task to Aramis, Aramis would have obeyed but likely grumbled about it. Edmond, on the other hand, would have resisted the idea at first, though he would eventually relent after some persuasion.

But Gin didn't complain or resist. Even if he disliked the task, he would simply nod expressionlessly when given an order. His calm demeanor and exceptional skills made him the most trusted and relied-upon member of William's crew. Because of this, none of the others—Edmond, Aramis, Sherlock, or Tony—felt any resentment toward the special treatment Gin received.

After sitting down, Gin leaned in to exchange a few quiet words with William before turning to Edmond. "What were you talking about just now? Who are you planning to chop into pieces?"

Still brimming with excitement, Edmond recounted William's acquisition of a Logia Devil Fruit and shared his own ideas.

To Edmond's surprise, Gin didn't agree. Instead, he shook his head disapprovingly. "A single Logia fruit isn't enough to make us invincible."

Gin's time with the Marines had given him a deeper understanding of their strength and resources than anyone else in the room. William had sent Gin to the Marines not just to frame Barbarossa, but also to gather intelligence.

Through Nezumi, a Marine officer from the Grand Line whose father was an official in the World Government, Gin had learned a great deal about the Grand Line and the World Government's power. This included the background of Captain Roy, one of their targets.

Chapter 90

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 90: The Six Powers

Edmond froze, then slowly sank back into the pool. "What do you mean? With our skills combined, and William's Logia Devil Fruit ability, who in the East Blue could possibly stand against us?"

"What was our main concern to begin with?" Before Gin could respond, William posed the question himself.

Seeing Edmond's confused expression, Sherlock explained on William's behalf, "William has never been worried about Roy or Arcadio themselves. It's the Marines and the World Government backing them that he's cautious about. That hasn't changed. If we just wanted to kill them, William wouldn't have needed to eat a Devil Fruit—we could've acted long ago."

Tony scoffed, interjecting dismissively, "What's so special about the Marines in the East Blue?"

"What about the Grand Line?" Gin leaned back against the edge of the pool, mimicking William's posture, and replied flatly, "Nezumi is nothing more than a short-sighted fool, but Roy is no simple character."

Gin turned to William and Aramis. "Do you remember back when we were with the Danton Pirates, the Marine warship that chased us like rabbits?"

Aramis frowned. "No way... it's him?"

In the East Blue, where many Marine divisions had devolved into little more than regional warlords, Roy's approach of using fleeing pirate crews to stage attacks on villages—then looting the so-called 'pirate plunder' from the villagers—was considered cautious and clever.

While Aramis and the others might have found Roy's methods shrewd, William didn't think much of them. To him, it simply proved that Roy wasn't entirely stupid. Turning to Gin, William asked the key question, "What about Roy's strength?"

"Before you ate the Devil Fruit, you wouldn't have been his match. Now... it's hard to say," Gin admitted, pursing his lips. "I'd need to know more about your Devil Fruit ability to make a proper judgment."

William gestured for Gin to move a bit farther away. Once Gin complied, the water around William immediately began to boil. Strangely, the steam rising from the water didn't dissipate upward as it normally would; instead, it gathered into a concentrated mass under William's control.

Steam itself is colorless and transparent. However, when it encounters cold air and condenses into water droplets, it appears as a misty white vapor.

"So far, I can transform into and control steam," William explained simply. "I can also generate high temperatures, causing liquids to evaporate violently."

The abilities of a Devil Fruit, along with the methods to utilize and develop them, weren't automatically downloaded into the user's mind. Beyond the initial, instinctive powers that came with the fruit, everything else—like learning to walk, run, and eventually perform more complex maneuvers—required practice and gradual mastery over time.

If William's fruit were to follow the naming conventions commonly used in this world, it would likely be called the Steam-Steam Fruit. In addition to the hallmark ability of Logia fruits to elementalize the user's body—in this case, turning into steam—his fruit also came with supplementary abilities, such as increasing temperature to rapidly vaporize liquids.

However, there was a limitation: the heat he generated didn't come from an external source. Instead, it was produced internally, within his own body. At standard atmospheric pressure, water boils at 100°C (212°F). Once the temperature reached that point, William found it extremely difficult to increase it further.

William knew that his potential shouldn't be limited to this. Though he had been a poor student in his previous life, he vaguely remembered that 100°C was merely the boiling point of water at standard atmospheric pressure. By altering pressure, the boiling point could be raised even higher. Moreover, as the fruit's user, William was keenly aware that his ability wasn't about boiling water—it was about controlling the steam it produced. Steam's temperature ceiling was far beyond that of boiling water.

The current challenge lay in the internal pressure of the steam. Just like how a pot lid is pushed off by escaping steam when boiling water, William's body instinctively released steam as his temperature increased. Along with the escaping steam, heat and energy were also lost.

Much of the steam filling the bathhouse was actually the result of William unintentionally releasing it while heating the water in the pool.

Ultimately, the problem was that William hadn't had the fruit's power for very long. He still needed time to study and develop its potential.

However, William didn't share all these details with the group. He was someone who learned from experience, whether it was his own or others'.

Barbarossa, the "Red-Beard," had been defeated because his Devil Fruit's weaknesses were discovered and exploited—first by Zeff, and later by William himself. His death at William's hands served as a vivid cautionary tale.

With such a stark example before him, how could William not exercise caution? Even as a Logia user, he was wary.

Aside from Seastone, William, as a Devil Fruit user, could clearly feel his body's aversion to water. While the widely circulated belief was that Devil Fruit users feared seawater, in reality, it wasn't limited to just seawater.

The pool's water level barely reached waist height, a deliberate choice by William. Any deeper, and the discomfort caused by the water would become unbearable.

As everyone stepped out of the now-boiling pool, Gin remained silent for a moment after hearing William's explanation. Finally, he said, "If that's all there is, the outcome is still uncertain."

Aramis, Edmond, and even Tony all looked grim. They were well aware of William's strength, yet Gin's hesitation after hearing about William's abilities suggested that Roy's power far exceeded their expectations.

Gin turned to William and continued, "Your earlier suspicions were correct. The Marines do have their own unique martial arts techniques—a set of six moves called the Rokushiki or Six Powers. In the weak Marine divisions of the East Blue, almost no one knows how to use them, but they're fairly common among officers from Marine Headquarters."

William caught the implication in Gin's words. "Roy knows how to use them?"

"He's a former officer from Marine Headquarters. He can use two of the Six Powers: Tekkai (Iron Body) and Soru (Shave)," Gin replied with a sigh. "Roy has a high level of prestige at the division base, not just because of his seniority, but also because he demonstrates these moves to every new recruit, reinforcing his authority."

"He even demonstrated them to me. His Tekkai is a defensive technique that hardens his body to the point where it's almost as tough as steel," Gin said gravely. "He had me attack him directly. When I used a blade, I held back and couldn't injure him. Later, he had me use a gun, but even that didn't work."

Chapter 91

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 91: A Chicken's Head or a Phoenix's Tail

For everyone present except Gin, this was the first time hearing about the Rokushiki techniques. The idea of using one's body to directly block bullets made even William frown.

"It's not the power of a Devil Fruit?" Edmond asked in disbelief.

"It's not!" Gin replied firmly. "However, with William's current Devil Fruit ability, he might be able to counter Roy's Tekkai (Iron Body). What I'm worried about is his Soru (Shave). It's an explosive movement technique. I could barely track his movements with my eyes. Before seeing him use it, I never thought anyone could move so fast. For a Devil Fruit user, Seastone is a major weakness. If he wields Seastone and combines it with Soru, as long as you can't keep up with his speed, he could still harm you, William."

"Damn it," Tony cursed. "Why would someone that powerful come to the East Blue?"

"Better to be the head of a chicken than the tail of a phoenix..." William murmured to himself. He could somewhat guess Roy's reasoning.

In the Grand Line, a place teeming with monsters, Roy's mastery of two of the Six Powers would hardly make him stand out.

But in the East Blue, he was a guest of honor to the kingdom's ministers, a trusted ally, and the undisputed ruler of the Marine division base.

Here, he drove pirate crews like herding dogs. In the East Blue waters, he was a true big shot, one of the apex predators in the food chain!

The news about Roy somewhat dampened the group's earlier excitement. Unlike Edmond and the others, who wore their disappointment openly, William remained composed. He had never planned to abandon his original strategy just because he had eaten a Logia-type Devil Fruit. Learning about Roy's strength now was better than finding out when they were already at odds.

Glancing at the group, who had fallen into deep thought, William smiled and said, "It seems the move I made was the right one. At least it's shown us how vast the world truly is, so we won't end up as frogs in a well."

Aramis grumbled, "I'd rather stay a frog in a well. If just one Roy is this strong, how terrifying must the monsters at Marine Headquarters be? Using their bodies to block bullets—do they have to be that exaggerated?"

William ignored him and clapped his hands lightly. The crisp sound echoed through the bathhouse, breaking everyone's train of thought. "How long have we been at sea? Back then, Barbarossa seemed like an insurmountable obstacle, but isn't he dead now? His pirate crew has even been rebranded under our flag."

"Is your resolve really that fragile?" William teased with a smile. "Or are you saying you have no confidence in me as your captain?"

Aramis scratched his head awkwardly. "Of course not. It's just that thinking about how many monsters might be lurking in the Marines is a bit overwhelming."

"Facing challenges head-on—that's what it means to be a man," William said calmly.

Aramis clenched his fists, and the others, after a brief moment of hesitation, also regained their determination.

"This meeting isn't just to talk about Roy," William said, observing the expressions of those around him. "It's also to discuss our future roles. If anyone has objections, now is the time to speak up."

"Aramis, you'll come aboard the pirate ship with me," William said, turning to the surprised swordsman. "Right now, the first mate on the ship is an old pirate from Barbarossa's era. I've just ordered him to kill all the former first mate's loyalists, which has created some resentment among the older crew members. The second mate is someone I recruited from elsewhere—a former prisoner who strangled the previous first mate to death. The veteran crew definitely won't accept him either. When you join the ship, focus on winning over the old crew. I'll arrange a few battles soon. With your swordsmanship, you'll quickly make a name for yourself. Once you've established your footing, I'll promote you to an officer position."

Aramis, true to form, grumbled, "Why not just promote me to an officer right away?"

"You're new to the ship and don't even know everyone's names yet. If I promote you immediately, will they respect you? Will you command authority?" William's tone grew stern. "And once you're on the pirate ship, curb your clever tricks and slick tongue. You're no longer a rookie from the Danton Pirates. You're about to become an officer. Don't let those old hands look down on you."

After Aramis reluctantly acknowledged the advice, William continued, "Tony, you'll be in charge of liaising with the Marines. Gin, introduce him to your corrupt superior, Nezumi, when you get the chance."

Tony asked, "Why not just use Gin?"

"Gin has other tasks and won't be directly involved in dealing with the Marines anymore," William replied with a smile, pointing at Tony. "Your job is both easy and important. Eat, drink, and have fun. Get Nezumi on our side. I'm about to meet Roy soon. Once I start working with him, it won't be appropriate for me to personally win over his subordinates. You'll be acting as my direct representative."

Sherlock pretended to wipe sweat from his face with a towel, hiding the smirk that crept onto his lips.

Tony's uncle, Omar, was the village chief of Maple Village, and Tony himself had significant local influence. If William planned to increase his investments and development in Maple Village, Tony's sway in the area would become disproportionately large.

If Tony were as steady as Gin, as loyal and honest as Edmond, or as self-aware as Sherlock, William wouldn't have minded his influence. But even Sherlock could see through Tony's character at a glance. How could William not?

Tony's influence might not be enough to cause major disruptions, but it could certainly create trouble.

By assigning Tony to act as a liaison with Nezumi, William was subtly removing him from the local scene, reducing his influence in Maple Village.

However, William didn't make it seem like a demotion. That would only alienate his subordinates. The liaison role was indeed a cushy job and an important one, ensuring Tony wouldn't feel slighted or disrespected. Given Tony's experience as a small-time gang leader and his dealings with various shady figures at the docks, he was actually well-suited for the role.

As expected, Tony accepted the assignment happily, showing no signs of dissatisfaction.

Sherlock, though fully aware of William's intentions, felt no resentment. His father, Sassarian, had once told him that the best way to solve a problem was to prevent it from happening in the first place.

Preventing issues before they arose was far better than patching things up afterward.

William's approach only made Sherlock respect him more, boosting his confidence in William's leadership and vision.

After discussing Tony's role, William turned to Sherlock. "Sherlock, you'll stay on land to manage the business. I've mentioned before about producing honey wine to enter the health and gift markets. How are the formula and brewing processes coming along?"

"The formula and brewing are fine," Sherlock replied, shrugging. "But according to your plan, the formula isn't the most important part. Marketing and promotion are."

Chapter 92

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 92: The Shareholding System

After temporarily wrapping up the smuggling business, William needed to find more opportunities for the distillery. In addition to the regular alcoholic beverages it produced, he planned to introduce a high-end product line, focusing on premium packaging and emphasizing product differentiation. Furthermore, he intended to promote the so-called health benefits of honey and wine, concepts from his previous life, to break into the untapped health and gift markets of this world.

However, Sherlock raised a valid concern. Previously, the distillery's alcoholic beverages sold well in the Navia Kingdom due to the prohibition laws, which eliminated most competition. But now that they could no longer access this thirsty market, the distillery would face direct competition.

The wine produced by the Maple Village distillery lacked brand recognition and didn't possess any outstanding qualities, leading to less-than-ideal sales.

"You don't need to worry about that," William reassured him, sharing his idea of having the crew of the Morgan Pirates invest part of their plunder as capital to buy shares in the land-based business.

Sherlock's eyes widened, and he clapped his hands in excitement, unable to hide his admiration. "A shareholding company? William, you're brilliant!"

He paced back and forth, looking even more thrilled than Edmond had been upon learning that William had consumed a Logia-type Devil Fruit.

"With your pirate crew, why would we ever worry about competition? And with shares, we don't have to worry about your crew slacking off. The better the business does, the greater their returns. The more important the company shares become to them, the more they'll naturally protect the company's interests without us needing to remind them. Plus, this raises the cost of betrayal. If they dare to leave your banner, they'll have to say goodbye to all their prior investments."

William sighed. When he first revealed this plan, perhaps only Kuro had grasped some of its implications; the other pirates hadn't considered the deeper meaning. Sherlock truly was a natural-born businessman.

"While you're managing things on land, remember to recruit talent," William said once Sherlock's excitement had subsided a bit. "On the ship, we need navigators, gunners, and sailors. On land, we need teachers, media professionals, craftsmen—anyone with skills or abilities. I want them all!"

"Recruiting so many people—can you even use them all right away?" Sherlock asked.

"What's the point of making so much money if I can't spend it? I'd rather recruit them now and pay to keep them than scramble to find people when I need them later!" William declared. "I'm planning to build a shipyard in Maple Village, so prioritize recruiting talent for that."

Sherlock nodded. Edmond, unable to hold back any longer, finally asked, "William, you've assigned everyone else. What about me?"

"You'll stay with Sherlock and ensure his safety," William replied. If it weren't for the fact that some of the older pirates in the Morgan Pirates had seen Edmond before, and that William wasn't yet ready to reveal his crew's true identity or openly clash with Arcadio and others, Edmond might have been a better choice than Aramis to join the ship. But reality didn't allow for such "what-ifs."

Sherlock would be meeting many people while managing the business and recruiting talent. The sea was a chaotic place, full of all sorts of characters. Since Sherlock had no training in self-defense, he needed someone to protect him. Among the group, Edmond's combat skills were second only to Gin's, making him more than capable for the job.

Having dreamed of becoming a pirate since childhood, Edmond couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed at not being able to join the ship. However, understanding the reasons behind William's decision, he had no complaints.

Seeing his expression, William spoke seriously, "Your job is to protect Sherlock. If anything happens to him, I won't forgive you!"

Edmond set aside his disappointment and replied earnestly, "Understood."

After issuing orders to everyone, William exhaled deeply and leaned back against the edge of the pool, tilting his head upward to gaze at the ceiling.

The bathhouse ceiling featured a meticulously crafted ukiyo-e painting with a dragon as the central figure. The rising steam from the pool swirled around the dragon's body like clouds, making the ferocious golden dragon appear almost alive.

"Be cautious, but don't be overly timid," William said softly, staring into the dragon's eyes through the mist. "Since we've chosen this path, there's no turning back. We can only move forward. If we settle for minor gains and mediocrity, it'll lead to our demise. Right now, we're insignificant in the eyes of the world. But trust me, one day, we'll leave the world utterly speechless."

"Of course!" everyone responded in unison.

The group gradually dispersed, leaving only Gin behind with William.

"Do you think we can get information about the Six Powers from Roy?" William asked.

"It's unlikely. Roy is quite cautious. If it were Nezumi, maybe, but he might not be able to get his hands on the materials. Besides, these physical techniques aren't just about reading notes—you can't easily learn them just by studying books," Gin replied after some thought.

William pondered for a moment before saying, "Still, we should try. We can have Nezumi approach Roy with the request. If Roy agrees, that's ideal. If not, we haven't lost anything, and it might even drive a wedge between them."

William then asked, "What do you think of Nezumi as a person?"

Gin paused briefly before giving his eight-character assessment with disdain: "Money-hungry and afraid to die."

William smiled at this evaluation. "I want to help him become the highest-ranking officer of the 16th Branch. What do you think? Any objections?"

William's original plan had been to support Gin in becoming the highest-ranking officer of the 16th Branch. With his funding and the ability to transfer credit for defeating other pirate crews, Gin could easily rise through the ranks. But after hearing about the Six Powers, William had changed his mind. He felt obtaining this technique was also crucial. If the path through Roy proved difficult, he might consider sending Gin to Marine Headquarters for training.

After careful consideration, Gin gave a firm answer: "No problem."

But he immediately followed up with, "What about Roy?"

"Roy must die," William said calmly. "After hearing your assessment of him, I want his life even more. But we'll wait until Nezumi becomes part of the base's senior leadership, maybe even second-in-command, before sending Roy to his grave. That way, Nezumi's succession will face fewer obstacles and surprises. We'll bring Nezumi into the plan too, and have him prove his loyalty to us."

"We'll need to be extra careful when dealing with Roy. He's not just an officer from Marine Headquarters; he also trained under the once-famous 'Black Arm' Zephyr," Gin said gravely. He hadn't mentioned this when Aramis and the others were present, fearing it would discourage them. Only when alone with William did he feel comfortable sharing this information.

"Zephyr?" William repeated the name. "Never heard of him."

"I learned a bit about him from Nezumi," Gin explained. "More than twenty years ago, during the golden age of legendary pirates like the Pirate King, Whitebeard, and Shiki the Golden Lion, he was a Marine Admiral. But he resigned after just a few years."

(According to the encyclopedia, "steam" is a general term that needs to be qualified before use, such as water vapor, mercury vapor, etc., referring to gas formed by evaporation, boiling, or sublimation of liquids or solids. "Vapor" is a specific term referring to water steam. William has the Steam-Steam Fruit, though currently, he can only affect water vapor.)

Chapter 93

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 93: Zephyr

William barely had time to be surprised by the term "Marine Admiral" before asking curiously, "Why did he resign?"

Gin curled his lips into a faint sneer. "He had a pirate enemy who killed his wife and child for revenge. An Admiral who couldn't even protect his own family—perhaps he was disheartened."

William remained silent. After a moment, Gin continued, "After Zephyr resigned, the higher-ups persuaded him to stay on as an instructor for the Marines. He trained many famous Marines. While Roy wasn't particularly outstanding under his tutelage and didn't study for long, it's possible he knows some classmates who now hold key positions."

Hearing this, William frowned, lost in thought.

After resting in Maple Village, William led his pirates on a few more "business ventures," raiding several ships based on intelligence provided by Sherlock to test the crew's coordination.

Only after these exercises did they set sail for Kalmar City to meet with Arcadio and Roy.

At the Ministry of Finance, the setting remained the same, but the people had changed. Arcadio's reception room was still as it had always been, but this time, Barbarossa had returned to the room—not in person, but as a severed head inside a wooden box brought by William.

Arcadio opened the lid slightly, took a quick glance inside, and immediately closed it with a look of disgust, pushing the box away. He then pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands repeatedly, as if fearing contamination.

Sitting beside him, Colonel Roy was far less squeamish. He pulled the box closer, opened it, and directly took Barbarossa's head out of the box.

After days of travel, even with some preservation measures, the head still reeked of decay. Its features were distorted, barely recognizable.

Roy seemed unfazed by the stench, examining Barbarossa's face with interest, as if trying to decipher his expression at the moment of death.

"So, you're the one who killed Barbarossa?" Roy asked casually, his eyes fixed on the severed head, not even glancing at William.

"No," William shook his head, causing Arcadio to frown. But William's next words smoothed his expression. "It was the soldiers of the Marines' 16th Division who killed him."

Roy chuckled lowly, finally shifting his gaze to William. "You're a clever man, not like the fools I usually deal with."

He tossed Barbarossa's head back into the box without a care for the mess on his hands, then lit a cigar and looked at William through the rising smoke. "Judging by the current situation, the Red-Beard Pirates are now under your control?"

"Of course," William replied with a faint smile.

Hearing this, Arcadio glanced at Kuro, who was sitting beside William. Kuro gave a subtle nod of confirmation.

"So, have you come here to maintain the alliance we had with Barbarossa?" Arcadio asked, only speaking after receiving confirmation that William indeed controlled the entire crew.

William deliberately lowered his head and let out a bitter laugh. "When I took down Barbarossa, I used some tricks. Now that Barbarossa, Reis, and Hayreddin are all dead, the pirate crew's strength has greatly diminished. It's hard to maintain our former status and influence with the current crew. However, while we're weaker than before, we do have one advantage now: I, as the new captain, understand the bigger picture. Barbarossa often acted on his own whims, trampling over alliances and causing trouble for his allies. I won't do that."

William lifted his head again, meeting the gazes of the two men studying him. "You both know my crew well. And unlike Barbarossa, I'm not reckless. With me as your ally, you can rest assured."

Arcadio and Colonel Roy exchanged a glance. After a moment, Arcadio stirred his coffee and asked slowly, "What goods did you bring ashore this time?"

"Wine. A large amount of wine. I know you've been in need of it," William replied with a smile.

Arcadio had nearly monopolized the underground smuggling market for alcohol in the Navia Kingdom and was in desperate need of various alcoholic beverages to meet market demand. Meanwhile, William had eliminated competitors for the Maple Village distillery, seizing a significant amount of wine, which he now presented as an offering.

Arcadio nodded in satisfaction. "I'll have the guild retrieve the goods. If your ship needs any supplies, you can let them know as well."

Roy, who had been silent, finally spoke after Arcadio implicitly agreed to maintain the alliance. He asked William, seemingly casually, "I heard you ventured near the Calm Belt?"

When the Tequila Wolf incident occurred, Roy had investigated the Red-Beard Pirates and knew their movements.

William, who had been holding a cup of coffee, froze for a moment before quickly recovering. He took a sip of coffee, using the action to gather his thoughts, and then replied, "Barbarossa wanted to try his luck in the Calm Belt, hoping to find a Devil Fruit..."

"Did he find one?" Colonel Roy interrupted, focusing solely on this question.

"He did," William answered with a delighted expression, letting a hint of pride slip through. "But he didn't live to claim it!"

Arcadio scrutinized William and frowned. "You ate it, didn't you?"

Seeing William nod openly, Arcadio expressed his dissatisfaction. "If you had handed it over to my auction house, I could have driven its price up to 400 million Beli, or even higher."

"I couldn't trust my crew. The return journey would've taken too long, and it was too risky," William said with a grin.

Arcadio said no more, while Roy leaned forward, his interest piqued. "You're quite lucky. I'm curious—what's your ability?"

"Paramecia," William said with a hint of showmanship, raising his coffee cup and gesturing toward the two men. They watched as the coffee in the cup quickly began to boil. "My body can generate heat."

Roy, who had been watching William's expression closely, finally shifted his gaze to the boiling coffee after hearing the word "Paramecia." Feigning indifference, he said, "Not bad. It has potential."

After spending a while longer in the reception room, William eventually got up to leave. Kuro, however, stayed behind at Arcadio's request.

Once William had left, Arcadio asked Kuro, "Does this kid really control the entire pirate crew?"

"Barbarossa, and the vice-captains he promoted afterward, were all killed by him. Right now, he's unquestionably in charge on the ship," Kuro replied.

Roy, who had been staring at the still-steaming coffee, finally spoke without looking up. "Are you sure the fruit he ate is really a Paramecia-type?"

Kuro hesitated. "I'm not entirely sure. He hasn't demonstrated his ability in front of the crew yet. Today was the first time I heard him mention it."

Roy didn't care that Kuro was technically Arcadio's man. Using a commanding tone, he said, "Keep a close eye on him aboard the ship. Check if his power is truly Paramecia and if its only ability is 'heat generation.' If you find out he's a Logia-type user, you must report to me immediately!"

(Note: Regarding Zephyr's backstory, there's a databook called Volume 1000, which seems to have been distributed as a physical book alongside the movie. Scanned versions are available online, and I'll share the images on my WeChat public account later.)

Chapter 94

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 94: Using the Mind

Kuro looked at Arcadio, who nodded at him. Only then did Kuro respectfully reply to Colonel Roy, "Understood."

After Kuro left, Arcadio turned to Roy and asked, "Do you think Stolt was lying just now? If he really had eaten a Logia-type Devil Fruit, would he still be acting as compliant as he just did?"

Colonel Roy spoke in a low voice, "He's only in his teens and managed to kill Barbarossa. That's one thing—he might have used tricks, as he claimed. But to gain control of an entire crew in such a short time? That's no small feat. For someone his age to have this kind of cunning and yet act so obediently—that's what's truly suspicious."

Arcadio frowned at Roy's words. "Maybe he's just clever enough to fear the power you and I wield. As for the Devil Fruit, I think you might be overthinking it. He's just a pirate with some cunning, nothing more."

Roy grinned, but his smile was laced with bitterness. "You wouldn't understand. If you had spent time at Marine Headquarters or on the Grand Line, you'd realize one thing: this world is inherently unfair. Some people are born to be chased by others. No matter how hard you work or how desperately you pursue them, you'll never catch up to those who are destined to be 'monsters' born for battle."

As he spoke, Roy's expression twisted with jealousy, and his tone grew sharp and bitter. "Since we can't match those 'monsters' in brute strength, we have to rely on our minds. Think carefully, use our human advantage, and avoid following the example of brainless beasts."

Noticing that Roy was becoming agitated, Arcadio quickly changed the subject. "So, what do you propose we do if it turns out Stolt really has eaten a Logia-type Devil Fruit?"

Roy took two deep drags from his cigar, calming himself before replying, "The most troublesome thing about Logia users is their ability to turn into their element. Honestly, even I can't guarantee victory against someone like that. So the safest course of action is to notify Marine Headquarters..."

Arcadio's hand trembled, nearly spilling his coffee. He interrupted sharply, "Notify Marine Headquarters? Are you insane? Aren't you afraid they'll investigate our dealings once they arrive?"

Roy casually flicked the ash from his cigar. "What's there to hide between the two of us? Even if they notice our connection, so what? As the commanding officer of a Marine division, it's perfectly normal for me to associate with the minister overseeing my jurisdiction and gather intelligence on pirates in the area. The only ones who need to worry are the pirates."

Arcadio was far less at ease than Roy and still voiced his disagreement. "That's too risky. And you call this the safest option?"

Roy gave Arcadio a deep look, then extinguished his cigar in the ashtray. He opened his right palm and extended it toward Arcadio. "Let me tell you what safety truly means. The authority of the World Government and the Marines may seem omnipresent, but in reality, they're distant. What keeps us in control of these pirate scum is our own strength. With even a slight edge in power, we can dominate the situation. They'll have to follow our lead—that's what safety means!"

As he spoke, Roy clenched his right hand into a fist with such force that his knuckles cracked audibly. "But if we lose our advantage in strength, everything will spiral out of our control. At that point, we'll have no choice but to rely on the authority of the World Government and Marine Headquarters. That's when we'll truly be at a disadvantage. A Logia Devil Fruit user is a potential threat to our control."

"The Marines from Headquarters will eventually leave," Roy said coldly. "I'm not worried about them. But if Stolt is lying and has actually eaten a Logia-type Devil Fruit, then he must have grand ambitions. I will definitely report this to Headquarters, even contact my former classmates to capture him. He'll either die in the East Blue or spend the rest of his life locked up in Impel Down. The East Blue must remain under the sole dominance of the Marines for us to maintain control!"

After leaving the Ministry of Finance, William didn't return to the ship. Instead, he headed to a restaurant owned by the underground arms dealer Dampier, a place Reis had once brought him to.

Following the receptionist's directions, he made his way to the underground bar.

Inside the bar, members of the Morgan Pirates—Vice-Captain Harden, Second Mate Selkirk, and crew members Aramis and Hatcheson—occupied a table by themselves. Their eyes were fixed on the bar's entrance. When they saw William appear, they all stood up in unison.

The intimidating presence of these men, some with fierce expressions and others with towering builds, drew the attention of nearby patrons. But the pirates paid no mind to the curious glances. Once William acknowledged them, they moved to follow him, naturally falling half a step behind.

Leading the group, William walked down the corridor toward the meeting room he had visited previously. Along the way, patrons and staff, intimidated by the group's appearance and aura, instinctively stepped aside.

"Are they here yet?" William asked without looking back.

"They arrived ten minutes ago," Harden replied in a deep voice.

"How many of them?"

"Six in total."

William nodded. By the time the conversation ended, they had reached the meeting room door.

William pushed the door open. As it swung wide, several pairs of eyes immediately locked onto him.

With a quick glance, William took in the scene. At one end of the long table sat "Red-Leg" Zeff, who had once clashed with the Red-Beard Pirates and was as renowned as Barbarossa in the East Blue. Zeff sat with one leg crossed over the other, while five members of the Cook Pirates lounged on a sofa behind him.

The restaurant and underground bar owner, arms dealer Dampier, was seated next to Zeff, seemingly engaged in conversation with him.

When Dampier noticed William enter, he merely smiled. Zeff, however, uncrossed his leg, and his subordinates behind him stood up, glaring at William and his group with fiery eyes.

Unperturbed, William smiled faintly and walked calmly to the other end of the long table. He sat down in the chair that Hatcheson pulled out for him, his demeanor composed.

"So, the rumors are true," Zeff said, sizing up William. "Barbarossa's ship sank, and a brat like you picked it clean. Not only did he lose his life, but even his legacy is gone. Quite unexpected."

"Old man, you're getting senile," William said with a hint of malice. "Survival on the seas follows the law of the jungle. If you're scared, you'd better find a way to wash your hands clean and settle down as a peaceful chef ashore."

"Sharp tongue," Zeff sneered, holding back his enraged subordinates with a wave of his hand. His tone turned cold. "The only reason I came here is out of respect for Dampier. You asked him to arrange this meeting—are you here to declare war?"

"If that's the case, I can save you the trouble. Whether your ship changes one captain or ten, the war between our crews has never stopped!"

(Bonus chapter for 50,000 clicks!)

Chapter 95

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 95: Ceasefire

The atmosphere in the meeting room grew tense in an instant. Aramis, Harden, Hatcheson, and Selkirk all stood on edge, their nerves taut. At William's slightest signal, they were ready to draw their weapons and clash with the Cook Pirates, whose members behind Zeff were equally prepared for battle.

Dampier, who had initially intended to remain uninvolved, was forced to knock on the table to assert his presence. He cast a deep glance at William and said, "You asked me to invite Captain Zeff here. Surely it wasn't to start an all-out war on my turf?"

Without waiting for William to respond, Dampier turned to Zeff. "Captain Zeff, I invited you here. If he dares to make a move, rest assured, I won't stand idly by. But if your men disrespect me and strike first, don't expect me to show you any leniency either."

Harden from the Morgan Pirates and several pirates from the Cook Pirates glared angrily at Dampier.

After Dampier finished speaking, William finally said, "Of course not. The reason I asked Dampier to invite you here, Captain Zeff, is to discuss a ceasefire..."

"You think you can just call for a ceasefire whenever you want?" A blond man with a lip piercing suddenly interrupted William, shouting aggressively.

"Such poor manners..." William paused, glancing at Zeff, who made no move to stop the outburst. With a calm demeanor, he continued, "Captain Zeff, is this your stance as well?"

The lip-pierced man made a move as if to step forward, but Zeff raised a hand to stop him. Zeff replied indifferently, "That is indeed my stance. You launched a surprise attack, killed my crew members, and now you suddenly want to talk about a ceasefire? Things aren't that simple."

William chuckled, his gaze shifting to the lip-pierced man with interest. "And who might this hero be?"

"My ship's boatswain, Charles. What do you want with him?" Zeff responded.

"Nothing at all," William said with a smile. "Captain Zeff, the one who attacked you, Barbarossa, is already dead. His Red-Beard Pirates have been wiped out. What you see before you is a new captain and a new pirate crew. We have no interest in paying debts for the dead. If you agree to a ceasefire, that would be ideal. But if you insist on continuing this fight, then we'll have no choice but to respond."

William's smile widened, revealing his sharp white teeth. "Let me remind you, though—if this continues, it'll be an all-out fight to the death. Both sides will have no choice but to keep fighting until one of us is completely wiped out."

"You seem quite confident," Zeff sneered, curling his lips. "Do you really think your crew is willing to fight to the bitter end with you?"

"Would Captain Zeff like to test that theory?" William tilted his head slightly, glancing at his crew behind him. In a seemingly casual tone, he added, "Since we've both brought people today, why not have a little preview? Each side sends one person to fight, and when one falls, the next steps in. We'll keep going until one side is completely wiped out, and then the two of us can personally settle it. Let's see if our crews are truly willing to stand with us until the very end!"

At William's suggestion, Hatcheson twitched slightly at the corner of his eye, but the other three showed no visible reaction. Vice-Captain Harden, a typical brute of a warrior, was reckless and fearless. Selkirk, having experienced battles on the Grand Line, was neither timid nor afraid of death. Besides, apart from Aramis, only he knew that William was a Logia Devil Fruit user, which gave him full confidence in their captain. As for Aramis, though he was prone to complaining, he knew when to hold his tongue, and his face betrayed no unease in this moment.

William turned his gaze to Dampier, whose expression had grown grim. Smiling, he said, "This isn't really a war, is it? Just a little game. To avoid disrupting your business, we can agree on no guns and no leaving this meeting room. How about that?"

"You two captains fighting in this tiny meeting room—can it even withstand the aftermath of your battle?" Dampier asked, his tone dark.

William chuckled. "Don't worry. If Captain Zeff and I do end up fighting, we'll take it elsewhere and spare your place."

Dampier remained silent, and many present assumed he would refuse. To their surprise, he nodded and coldly said, "Any damages will be on you."

William smiled at Dampier, then turned to the visibly displeased Zeff. "The host has already agreed. What about you, Captain Zeff?"

Zeff's gaze shifted between Dampier and William, but he said nothing.

Seeing this, William raised his arm and gestured to his crew. "Aramis, you go first and spar with whoever Captain Zeff sends out."

As Aramis stepped forward confidently, William smirked at Zeff. "Captain Zeff, are you scared? You've brought more people than I have, after all."

Without waiting for Zeff to respond, William pointed at Charles, the lip-pierced boatswain who had interrupted earlier. "Since we're starting, how about sending this brave warrior first?"

Charles had already been itching for a fight when William questioned Zeff's courage. Now, after glancing at Zeff and seeing no objection, he arrogantly stepped forward, circling the meeting table to face Aramis.

Meanwhile, William turned to Dampier and said, "You're the host, so why not act as the referee?"

Dampier nodded expressionlessly.

In the cleared space beside the long table, Aramis, unlike the cocky Charles, offered a friendly smile.

With his baby-faced appearance, noticeable tiger teeth, and harmless demeanor, Aramis's smile was rather endearing—anything but threatening. This naturally caused Charles to underestimate him.

"Begin!"

As soon as Dampier's voice fell, there was a sharp "swish" sound. Aramis's katana flashed out of its sheath like lightning. His face was now devoid of any trace of the innocent smile from before, replaced by a cold, emotionless expression.

Aramis had a natural talent for combat, though his lazy personality often led him to slack off during training. While character doesn't change overnight, the death of Vallon had spurred him to take his training and practice more seriously in recent days, resulting in noticeable improvement.

Caught off guard, Charles hastily raised his dual swords to block. While he managed to deflect Aramis's iaido strike, the sheer force behind the katana caused his swords to be knocked aside.

Aramis's brows furrowed as he twisted and retracted his blade, striking again in the blink of an eye. Like a venomous snake, the katana lashed out once more. Charles barely managed to dodge his vital areas but couldn't avoid being pierced through the shoulder.

In this world, high-level battles could last for days without a clear victor, but that was only when both sides were evenly matched and fully alert. For fighters like Charles and Aramis, a single moment of carelessness could immediately tip the scales—or even decide the outcome.

Wounded due to his arrogance, Charles found himself at a disadvantage. Aramis, relentless in his assault, closed the distance. With his injured shoulder, Charles struggled to maintain his grip on his swords. As he tried to counterattack, his reduced strength and speed allowed Aramis to easily evade and exploit an opening, slashing his other arm.

Zeff's expression darkened, and he moved to intervene. But William, who had been watching closely, leaned back slightly and kicked the heavy wooden meeting table.

The solid table slid forward with surprising force, colliding with Zeff and momentarily halting him.

In that brief window, Aramis had already subdued the now pale-faced Charles, whose arms were both injured. Grabbing Charles by his blond hair, Aramis pressed his katana lightly against his neck.

Aramis looked at the now-standing Zeff and smiled faintly, revealing his small tiger teeth once again. However, this time, his smile carried no trace of innocence—only menace. To Zeff, it was nothing short of infuriating.

Chapter 96

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 96: The Revolver

Zeff stood motionless, while Charles's face was ashen with despair.

Aramis held his katana against Charles's neck but refrained from delivering the killing blow. Instead, he turned to look at William.

William didn't even bother to stand. He remained seated in his chair, smirking coldly at Zeff. "Captain Zeff, do you still wish to continue this fight with us?"

Zeff's expression shifted unpredictably. He was certain that if he said "yes," William would give the order without hesitation, and Aramis would slit Charles's throat on the spot.

Zeff couldn't bring himself to watch one of his crew members die without doing anything. After a moment of silence, and just as Aramis pressed his blade harder against Charles's neck, drawing a thin line of blood, Zeff finally spoke. "Fine. I agree to a ceasefire between our crews."

William rose from his seat and walked over to Zeff. Ignoring the furious glares of the Cook Pirates, he raised his left palm and said, "Shall we seal this agreement with a handshake?"

Zeff, expressionless, slapped his hand against William's left palm. Then, as if disgusted, he wiped his hand on his shirt, as though William were filthy.

"Aramis!" William called out, smiling nonchalantly and without looking back.

Aramis, who had observed everything, moved his blade away from Charles's neck at William's signal. He gave Charles a shove, causing him to stagger back toward his crewmates.

"Captain, I..." Charles, full of shame, tried to apologize, but Zeff raised a hand to stop him. Several members of the Cook Pirates quickly helped Charles and clumsily tended to his wounds.

Zeff turned to William and said in a deep voice, "Aren't you afraid I'll go back on my word?"

"If you do, it'll just mean resuming the fight. Do you think I'd be scared?" William smirked. "And if that happens, the only one who'll lose face is you."

William wasn't particularly worried about Zeff or his Cook Pirates. He simply didn't want unnecessary conflict interfering with his future plans. Moreover, he had a specific strategy in mind for the next step. If Zeff were to break the truce, it would only be his own disgrace.

Zeff snorted coldly, casually greeted Dampier, and then led his crew out of the meeting room in a huff.

Watching the angry pirates leave, Dampier turned to William with a displeased expression. "It seems I've lost a major client because of you. I thought you came here to negotiate a ceasefire with Zeff, not to humiliate him."

"I brought plenty of wine ashore this time. You can send someone to my ship later to fetch some for your bar," William said dismissively, waving his hand. "Besides, I achieved peace through struggle. Retreating or showing weakness would never have brought peace—it would only have led to further bullying."

What William didn't say was that, as a new captain, he had no intention of showing weakness to outsiders. Doing so would only undermine his authority among his crew.

Dampier scoffed. "A few bottles of wine? Do you think that's enough to make up for my losses?"

"Then how about my designs?" William sat back down in his chair, smiling.

Hearing this, Dampier's expression grew complicated. He pulled out a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and unfolded it. The paper was covered in strange sketches. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that the drawings depicted firearms and their components. To someone like William, who was a transmigrator, it was obvious that these were designs for a revolver and a bolt-action rifle.

This design was the key reason Dampier, who had only met William once before, agreed to act as the intermediary to invite Zeff.

To call it a "design" was a bit of a stretch. In truth, William had little expertise in firearms. His knowledge came mostly from the internet and movies in his previous life. As a result, the drawings were full of scribbles and omissions, especially for minor components. However, the critical structures, such as the revolver's cylinder and the integrated bullet design—combining the projectile, propellant, casing, and primer—were clearly outlined.

From a professional perspective, the quality of the drawing was laughable, akin to something a kindergartener might produce. Most transmigrators with thinner skin would be too embarrassed to show such a crude sketch to anyone. But William, with his thick-skinned confidence, not only presented the design but did so with an air of pride.

Though Dampier had already reviewed the design, he couldn't help but glance at the crude sketches again. He said flatly, "This drawing itself isn't worth much. The true value lies in the creativity of the designer, which is indeed remarkable."

Historically, it would take over a decade before Luffy and his crew encountered the Baroque Works agent Mr. 5, who wielded a revolver—a new weapon imported from the South Blue. At this point in time, such a weapon concept was still highly innovative in the East Blue.

"You flatter me," William replied without a hint of modesty, readily accepting the compliment.

"However," Dampier changed his tone, shaking the design in his hand, "this is just an idea, a concept at best. To create a functional prototype would require extensive experimentation and research. Only after producing a working model could we determine its actual effectiveness."

William's smile faded. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the meeting table, and locked eyes with Dampier. "I don't believe for a second that you can't see the value of this design or the potential of these new weapons, even before a prototype is made."

"I'm a researcher, but I'm also a businessman," Dampier replied calmly. Having witnessed William kill Barbarossa and take control of his crew, Dampier knew William was now a Pivotal Figure in the East Blue. He wasn't foolish enough to try and steal the design and cut ties. He was simply being pragmatic. "As a researcher, I can see the immense value in this design. But as a businessman, I have to consider the costs of development and experimentation, as well as market conditions that could impact the final product's success. You should remember that my earlier attempt to market a repeating musket didn't sell well."

"In that case, I have a better idea," William said, leaning back in his chair and smiling again.

"Oh? What is it?"

"Let me invest capital and this..." William tapped his temple with his index finger. "Let me become a shareholder in your arms business!"

Months later, as autumn arrived and the weather began to cool, the hearts of the pirates in the East Blue burned with excitement.

This was the season of harvest. For farmers, the goal was to reap the crops in their fields. For pirates, it was to plunder the wealth that hardworking civilians had painstakingly accumulated.

In Black Reef Town, the tavern owner Mary held her daughter Isha's hand as they ran with the crowd toward the outskirts of town.

The mother and daughter's faces were pale, both from the exertion of running and the terror of the pirates' arrival.

Two years ago, Black Reef Town had suffered a pirate attack, so its residents were somewhat experienced in dealing with such situations. Under the mayor's direction, women and children were sent to hide outside the town, while the men armed themselves with crude weapons to protect their loved ones if necessary.

Yes, only if necessary—and only to protect their families, not their homes.

Most of the town's young men had been killed or injured in the previous attack. Those who couldn't bear the hardship of rebuilding had left, leaving even boys as young as thirteen or fourteen to shoulder the responsibility of defending the women and children. Their youthful faces were tense as they gripped blacksmith-forged swords and scanned their surroundings warily. Everyone knew they couldn't protect their homes from the pirates' weapons. Painfully, they had to make sacrifices.

The advent of the Great Pirate Era affected not just pirates and Marines but the entire world.

(Bonus chapter for 50,000 recommendation votes! Please continue to support by clicking, voting, and spreading the word. Thank you!)

Chapter 97

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 97: The Place of Origin (Part 1)

The southern docks of Black Reef Town were engulfed in smoke, with collapsed buildings scattered throughout the area. Inside a small building that had been used as a lookout tower, several pirates sat on chairs and sofas they had somehow acquired, surrounding a campfire and drooling over a roasting lamb.

A group of pirates carried in two men who were tightly bound and threw them harshly onto the ground in front of the others.

"Captain Guy!" one of the pirates who had just entered called out to the pirate seated opposite the entrance. "The town's resistance has been crushed, but most of the women and children are nowhere to be found, and there aren't many valuables left."

The pirate captain known as Guy was a tall man with a face full of scars, including a knife wound that stretched from the corner of his mouth across his cheek to his ear, giving him a perpetual sinister smile.

Captain Guy poked at the campfire with a long stick, seemingly unfazed by his subordinate's report, having already guessed the reason. "I reckon this town has been hit by other pirates before, so most of the able-bodied men are dead. But they've gained some experience from that. The women, children, and valuables must have been hidden outside the town."

After sharing his speculation with his crew, Guy turned his attention to the two bound townsfolk lying on the ground, who were staring at him in terror. "You heard what I said. We didn't come all this way for a few bags of flour and some fat lambs. Tell me, where did the townspeople run off to?"

Despite their fear, the two townsfolk remained silent. Seeing this, Guy chuckled and withdrew the burning stick from the fire, slowly bringing it closer to the face of one of the young male townsfolk, who appeared to be only in his teens.

The young townsman tried to avoid the stick, but he was tied up too tightly and could only squirm on the ground. A pirate leader nearby stepped on him, forcing him to tilt his head back in a futile attempt to distance himself from the firebrand.

Guy pressed the burning stick against the young townsman's face, causing a sizzling sound that was soon drowned out by the young man's screams, as he convulsed like a fish out of water.

Guy quickly pulled back the stick. "Even if you don't speak, this island isn't that big. We can find everyone eventually. But if you talk, not only will you suffer less, but I'll let you join my crew. You'll get a share of the loot and the women we find next."

The young townsman, sweating profusely and drooling unconsciously, seemed not to have heard the pirate captain's words.

Seeing this, Guy moved the stick toward the young man's eyes.

Feeling the heat approaching, the young townsman snapped back to reality and cried out, "I'll talk, I'll talk..."

Before he could finish, the other bound man, a middle-aged townsman who had remained silent, suddenly shouted angrily, "Shut up!"

Guy glanced at the middle-aged man and ordered one of his subordinates, "Take him outside and kill him."

As the more mature townsman was dragged away, he continued to shout to his companion, "Don't believe them! Don't say anything!"

But once outside, a gunshot rang out, and his voice was abruptly silenced.

The young townsman left in the room trembled. Guy crouched down in front of him and spoke persuasively, "You're still so young. Do you really want to die like this? If you tell me, you can join my crew. Once you're a pirate, you'll know what true freedom is. Every day will be filled with joyful feasts, delicious food, fine wine, and beautiful women. As a pirate, you'll never lack these things."

The young man's face turned various shades of green and red, unsure whether it was the pirate's threats or persuasion that swayed him. Eventually, he spoke with difficulty, "Outside the town, to the east, there's a small hill. Behind the hill, there's a cave. The people who escaped... they're probably... probably all there."

After speaking, tears streamed uncontrollably down the young man's face. Guy, however, was already uninterested in him. He kicked a pirate leader who was still staring at the roasting lamb. "Did you hear that? Take a group and 'invite' them here."

"'Invite' them?" the pirate leader asked, somewhat dumbfounded.

Guy let out a strange laugh. "I don't care about the men, but not a single woman should be harmed. Bring them all to the town square. I want to take my time choosing."

Surrounded by pirates wielding knives and guns, their eyes occasionally casting malicious glances at the young female townsfolk, tavern owner Mary felt a deep sense of despair.

Mary tightly held her daughter Isha's hand, her only hope being that her daughter would remain safe.

The group, mainly consisting of the elderly, women, and children, was escorted by the pirates to the town square. Nearly all the members of the pirate crew were gathered there, and upon seeing the women among the townsfolk, along with the bundles they carried, they couldn't help but whistle lewdly.

Pirate Captain Guy, appearing quite friendly, had his arm around the shoulder of the young townsman who had informed on the others. Standing at one end of the square, he released the timid young man once the crowd was brought to the center.

The town's mayor, a tall, thin man with white hair, stepped trembling out of the crowd under Guy's interested gaze. Despite his age, he wore a smile and spoke in a low, humble voice, "Sir, everything valuable in the town is here. We're giving it all to you. Please spare us. We have nothing left to offer."

"Once I've found you, everything naturally belongs to me. You think you can use my own things to appease me?" Guy sneered, drawing a circle in the air with his finger over the crowd. "Besides, who said you have nothing more to offer me and my crew?"

The mayor's face turned deathly pale, and Guy, having lost interest in teasing, said viciously, "If you don't want to die, get out of my sight!"

With a casual shove, Guy knocked the mayor to the ground without even looking at him. He began to stroll around the crowd slowly, his gaze sweeping over the terrified women like a butcher selecting livestock.

For Guy, this was the most enjoyable part of plundering. Helpless civilians, like lambs, could only tremble under the gaze of a predator at the top of the food chain, waiting for him to decide their fate.

Chapter 98

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 98: The Place of Origin (Part 2)

Guy's gaze finally landed on Mary, who was protectively shielding her daughter Isha. His eyes lingered for a moment on Mary's delicate features and the alluring curves unique to a young widow. Without hesitation, he pushed through the crowd, grabbed Mary roughly by her hair, and began dragging her away.

The previously silent crowd erupted into chaos. Mary screamed in terror, while Isha clung desperately to her mother's hand, crying and wailing. Some townsfolk backed away in fear, while others surged forward in an attempt to rescue Mary, resulting in a chaotic scene.

A gunshot rang out, silencing the commotion. Guy calmly lowered the pistol he had just fired into the air, then grabbed Mary's hair again. This time, aside from Mary's screams and Isha's cries, no one dared to move.

The mayor, who had fallen to the ground, curled up into a ball and shut his eyes tightly, unwilling to witness the tragedy that seemed inevitable.

Just as Guy was about to pry Isha's small hands away from her mother, a distant shout interrupted him.

His expression darkened as he turned to see one of his crew members, who had been left to guard the ships at the docks, running toward him, panting heavily.

"Captain!" the crew member shouted as he reached Guy. "Two pirate ships are heading straight for us!"

Guy's mind raced, and he quickly made a decision. "We can't let them trap our ships at the docks."

He released Mary, who immediately hugged Isha tightly and retreated into the crowd. Guy paid them no further attention. Instead, he scanned the square and barked orders to his crew. "Everyone, back to the ships immediately!"

Though pirates shared a common enemy in the Marines, they were far from allies. Pirates were competitors in the same ruthless trade, and the smarter ones always remained vigilant against one another.

Guy was clearly one of the smarter ones.

"What about these people and the loot?" one of his trusted subordinates asked.

"We'll deal with those other pirates first. Once we've driven them off, we can come back. Do you think these people can cross the sea and escape this island?" Guy replied coldly.

The pirates in the square shifted their focus to the approaching pirate ships. Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the crowd, a woman near the edge of the square took advantage of the distraction and bolted toward the street.

The nearby pirates hesitated, glancing at their captain rather than immediately giving chase. Seeing one person run emboldened others; a few more townsfolk dashed toward the streets surrounding the square. Two of them were quickly taken down by alert pirates, but the rest managed to slip away.

"Run for it!" someone shouted, and the crowd descended into chaos once again. Desperation drove the townsfolk to scatter in all directions, preferring to risk everything rather than face a second pirate crew.

Guy cursed under his breath at the disorder but had no time to restore order. He shouted at his crew to stop wasting time and follow him back to the ships.

Most of the pirates obeyed, but some, their eyes red with greed, broke ranks to chase after the fleeing townsfolk, particularly the women carrying valuables.

If William were here to witness this scene, he would have sneered and called them a rabble. Guy, too, was furious, but years of experience as a pirate had taught him the nature of his subordinates. He ignored the disobedient ones and led the more disciplined crew members back toward the docks.

Not far from Black Reef Town, two warships sailed steadily through the waves, heading for the town's docks.

At the top of the tallest mast on each ship flew identical pirate flags. The black banners bore the image of a grinning skull wearing a tricorn hat. The brim of the hat featured ornate lettering spelling out "Morgan," with a feather curling upward from one side of the "M." Behind the skull, two scimitars crossed in an X shape. The flag's design, rendered in black, white, and gray tones, incorporated subtle artistic techniques that gave the skull a slightly top-down perspective, making its smiling visage eerily menacing.

These two warships belonged to the Morgan Pirates, and the flags were designed by Sherlock, who had commissioned a professional to bring his vision to life. William had approved the design, and the flags were promptly raised on the masts.

Standing at the bow of one ship was William, dressed in a gray shirt, black trousers, and a black coat to ward off the damp sea air. The wind tousled his long hair and the hem of his coat. Occasionally, he brushed his bangs out of his eyes as he gazed intently at the distant town, lost in thought.

Behind him, Selkirk called out softly, "Captain?"

"Have Harden and Aramis head straight for the docks and clear out any remaining pirates onshore," William ordered without turning around. "We'll deal with the enemy ships ourselves, focusing on boarding them."

Over the past few months, William had led his pirates on numerous expeditions, eliminating competitors in the rum trade and occasionally targeting other pirate crews within his territory. The second warship in his fleet had been seized from one such defeated crew.

William had absorbed some skilled and capable pirates from the defeated crew, and along with new recruits, the Morgan Pirates now boasted over 160 members. More than half of them were seasoned pirates. Even without accounting for William's personal strength, the Morgan Pirates had become a formidable force in the East Blue.

Craw handed William a spyglass with practiced deference. William raised it to his eye, observing the commotion at the docks, where a group of pirates was boarding their ships in disarray.

William smirked disdainfully, tossing the spyglass back to Craw before turning away from the town.

Meanwhile, Selkirk stood on the deck and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting, "All hands, prepare for battle!"

On the other Morgan Pirates' warship, Harden and Aramis were also observing the town through their spyglasses.

Since acquiring a second ship, William had appointed Harden and Aramis to command it, reorganizing the crew by splitting Selkirk's original men and the veterans from Barbarossa's time between the two ships.

Harden lowered his spyglass after a moment and turned to Aramis, who was still staring at the town with a peculiar expression. "What's the matter? Do you have some connection to this town?"

Aramis put down his spyglass and bit his lower lip. "Of course. The captain and I have been here before."

This was the very town that had been the final target of the Danton Pirates before they were driven out by Captain Roy. Aramis still remembered how he, William, Gin, and others had clashed with Bamond, the second mate, all because of Vallon, that foolish boy.

In the blink of an eye, everything had changed. William and Aramis had risen to a position similar to that of Captain Roy back then, while Black Reef Town remained trapped in its unchanging role.

(Note: The skull design on the Morgan Pirates' flag is based on the novel's cover illustration, though the shield has not been added in the story yet.)

Chapter 99

Chapter 99: The Place of Origin (Part 3)

The pirate ship at Black Reef Town's dock finally managed to set sail after a chaotic scramble. It headed straight for the flagship where William stood.

However, Guy's ship had only just begun moving, and its speed was no match for William's warship. Under William's command, his ship easily maneuvered to take the advantageous T-position. Through the lens of his spyglass, William could see the chaotic state of the enemy ship.

On the deck of his ship, Guy was shouting curses at the top of his lungs. The current trend in sailing warships was to place the majority of cannons along the sides of the vessel, allowing maximum firepower only when the ship was positioned broadside—forming the so-called "T-cross."

As expected, once William's flagship turned broadside and approached the enemy ship, a plume of smoke erupted from his cannons. Chain shots, consisting of two iron balls connected by a sturdy chain, spun through the air with a whistling sound as they flew toward Guy's ship.

Some of the chain shots struck the enemy's deck, tearing through the pirates scrambling to adjust the sails. From a distance, one could see the gruesome sight of severed limbs and blood spraying into the air. However, the majority of the shots targeted the enemy's masts and sails, leaving the masts swaying precariously and the sails riddled with holes, further slowing the ship's speed.

William gave no orders to switch to solid shot. Instead, he commanded his crew to prepare for boarding as the ship closed the distance.

Meanwhile, Guy's ship began returning fire, with cannonballs occasionally whizzing over William's deck. The newer recruits looked pale with fear, while the veteran pirates, though tense, continued their tasks with practiced efficiency.

The ship's seemingly sturdy bulwarks proved useless against solid cannonballs. One round cannonball slammed into the side, shattering the wooden planks and sending splinters flying in all directions. A weaker pirate standing behind the bulwark was struck directly, his upper body torn away by the impact, leaving him dead on the spot.

Nearby, several pirates were caught off guard and injured by the flying splinters. While the veteran pirates merely cursed under their breath and gritted their teeth as they pulled out the splinters, the inexperienced recruits panicked. One unfortunate recruit, with a splinter lodged in his eye socket, dropped his weapon and collapsed to the deck, screaming in agony.

A flash of steel silenced the screams.

William stood on the cannonball-ridden deck, holding a blood-stained blade. He made no effort to dodge the incoming projectiles. The recruit who had been screaming moments ago now lay headless at his feet. William's cold gaze swept over the nearby recruits, who had hesitated at the sound of the screams.

The recruits swallowed hard, avoiding the sight of the corpse. Instead, they turned their attention back to the enemy ship. Though William said nothing, his intention was clear.

While William was generally approachable and refrained from flaunting his authority as captain, he was merciless when it came to discipline.

Amid the cannon fire, the Morgan Pirates' warship gradually closed in on the enemy vessel. When the two ships were still some distance apart, William stepped onto the deck and leaped into the air. His coat billowed like wings, making him resemble a great bird as he soared toward the enemy ship.

Outwardly, William appeared calm, but internally, his body was coursing with heat. Steam surged within him, making him feel weightless and even providing a subtle upward thrust. After all, steam is less dense than air, and the rising heat further buoyed his movements.

Guy stared in stunned disbelief at the airborne William. It took him a moment to snap out of it and shout to his crew, "Shoot him down!"

As William approached the enemy ship, Guy ordered loudly, "Fire!"

Gunshots rang out like a string of firecrackers. But just as the bullets closed in, a sudden burst of steam erupted from William's side, propelling him sideways in mid-air. The bullets missed their mark.

Then, with two simultaneous explosions beneath his feet, steam burst forth, propelling William forward at high speed. Before the enemy pirates could reload, William landed on their deck with a resounding thud.

《One Piece：The True Codex》Boom!

Upon landing, William bent his knees slightly to absorb the impact. He straightened up and surveyed the panicked pirates around him, a cold smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

While William dealt with the enemy ship, the second Morgan Pirates' warship, commanded by Harden and Aramis, had already docked at the pier.

After leaving a portion of their crew to guard the ship, the two split up and led their respective teams into the town.

Though the East Blue was known as the weakest sea, it was still teeming with pirates. William had a clear vision for the future of his operations. If his plans succeeded, they would inevitably involve purging pirates from the area. Ironically, the larger pirate crews were easier to deal with, as their size made them more predictable. It was the smaller, scattered groups that posed a greater challenge, as they could hide and evade capture, draining resources and manpower.

To address this, William had been working on training and organizing his crew. He aimed to integrate the forces brought by Selkirk from the Grand Line with the remnants of Barbarossa's crew, using the latter as the backbone for smaller, more cohesive squads. This approach minimized conflicts arising from differences in background and experience among the crew.

Additionally, William was experimenting with a tactical system that allowed for both decentralized operations against minor targets and rapid assembly to counter major threats. The goal was to enable his crew to handle most situations independently, leaving William to focus on more critical challenges.

Though the process was fraught with difficulties, William was patient. He understood that laying a solid foundation now would pay off in the long run. While he could handle everything himself, he was the captain, not a babysitter. Micromanaging every detail would only exhaust him.

One example of this new structure was Aramis's squad, which consisted of four members: Aramis himself, the veteran Hatcheson, and two pirates brought by Selkirk from the Grand Line.

The squad moved stealthily toward a house from which the sound of a commotion could be heard. The front door had already been broken open, with the shattered lock dangling uselessly. Through the doorway, they could see part of the living room.

Several chairs had been overturned, and shards of broken porcelain littered the floor. From the water stains and a few scattered flowers, it was clear that the shards had once been a vase.

Hatcheson examined the footprints on the wet floor and whispered to his teammates, "Only footprints going in—none coming out. They're still inside."

After a brief, whispered discussion with Hatcheson, Aramis led one of the taller, lanky pirates around the side of the house, while Hatcheson and the shorter, stockier pirate carefully entered through the front.

Hatcheson and his companion stopped in front of a closed door. Pressing his ear to the wood, Hatcheson could faintly hear the muffled sound of a woman sobbing.

Signaling through the living room window, Hatcheson instructed Aramis to position himself outside the bedroom window.

Once Aramis was in place, Hatcheson shouted toward the door, "Listen up, people inside! We're from the Morgan Pirates. Our captain has ordered us to spare anyone who surrenders without resistance!"

As the occupants' attention shifted toward the door, Aramis smashed through the window and rolled into the room. At the same time, Hatcheson kicked the door open and burst in, pistol in one hand and sword in the other, with his companion close behind.

The room appeared to be a bedroom. Hatcheson immediately spotted an enemy pirate crouched against the wall near the door, clearly intending to ambush anyone who entered. However, the pirate had been distracted by Aramis's dramatic entrance through the window and was now aiming his gun at Aramis.

Without hesitation, Hatcheson fired his pistol, hitting the enemy in a vital spot. The pirate let out a scream before collapsing.

The stocky Morgan pirate entered the room and began scanning for other threats. His gaze fell on the large bed directly across from the door, and he froze, unable to tear his eyes away.

Another enemy pirate, who had been hiding behind the door, lunged at the stocky pirate with a raised blade.

Reacting swiftly, Aramis struck first, slicing through the attacker's wrist and causing the pirate's hand and weapon to fall to the floor. The severed hand landed with a thud, and the gun discharged accidentally, the sound startling the stocky Morgan pirate back to his senses. Snarling, he raised his own weapon and hacked at the screaming, disarmed enemy.

"What are you staring at?!" Hatcheson barked at the stocky pirate. He then glanced at the bed himself—and found it equally difficult to look away.

Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Trash and Lapdogs

A young girl lay half-reclined on the bed in the bedroom, her clothes tattered and her body bound with rope. A gag of cloth was stuffed in her mouth, and the sobbing sounds that Hatcheson and Aramis had heard earlier outside the door had undoubtedly come from her. Her face was obscured by disheveled hair, making it hard to discern her features, but the curves of her exposed body beneath the torn fabric were unmistakable.

The girl looked at the group of Morgan Pirates with terror in her eyes. Embarrassed by her state of undress, she tried to curl up, attempting to shield herself as much as possible.

Hatcheson glanced at her for a moment before reluctantly averting his gaze. It wasn't out of any moral high ground, but rather out of fear of William. Back during Barbarossa's time as captain, the only thing strictly regulated was the division of spoils. Beyond that, no one cared what the pirates did during their raids.

But things had changed under William's leadership. As a man with ambitions far greater than Barbarossa's, William had long been disgusted by many of the pirates' vices. Once he took command, he implemented strict rules governing the behavior of his crew during raids.

William decided who could be plundered, and even personal indulgences required his approval.

This change left many of the crew dissatisfied, especially the veteran pirates who had experienced the thrill of unrestrained pillaging. To them, being a pirate meant living freely, and William's control felt overly restrictive.

Hatcheson, too, wasn't entirely pleased. However, he had personally witnessed William casually order the execution of Felton, who was strangled to death in front of everyone. That incident left an indelible mark on him. Ever since, Hatcheson had developed the habit of sitting with his back against a wall, unwilling to leave himself vulnerable. He had no intention of defying William's orders.

Shifting his gaze away from the girl, Hatcheson noticed something else in the room. In addition to the corpses of two enemy pirates on the floor, there was another body—a middle-aged man who didn't look like a sailor. Judging by his attire, he was likely a townsman.

The man's death was gruesome. His face was twisted in agony, his eyes wide open as if cursing the heavens for their injustice. In his hand, he still clutched a short dagger, though it bore no trace of blood.

While Hatcheson managed to control himself, the stocky pirate who had accompanied him was not as restrained. The man's eyes roamed freely over the girl's body as he slowly approached the bed.

Hatcheson didn't notice, but Aramis did. "What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

The stocky pirate reached out to lift the girl's chin, trying to brush her hair aside. Hearing Aramis's question, he grinned shamelessly. "I saved her life. Is it too much to ask for a little gratitude?"

Aramis's expression darkened. He grabbed the stocky pirate by the neck and slammed him hard against the wall. "Do you have a death wish? I can grant it right here and now. What did the captain say? Have you already forgotten the first rule of the 'Ten Sins'?"

William, aware of the chaotic nature of his crew, knew it was unrealistic to expect them to adhere to strict military discipline in a short time. Nor could he expect these simple-minded pirates to memorize lengthy codes of conduct.

Drawing from his experience under Barbarossa and discussions with veterans like Harden and Selkirk, William had established ten fundamental rules for the crew to follow. These rules, though basic, were directly tied to life aboard the ship and during combat.

The punishments for breaking these rules were severe, with five offenses warranting immediate execution and the other five punishable by flogging. The first and most serious crime was disobedience to the captain's orders.

Some pirates referred to these rules as the "Morgan Code." While veterans like Hatcheson spoke of it with reverence, others mocked it as laughable. After all, what kind of pirate captain drafted a "code of conduct"?

For those who had indulged in the pleasures of plundering, the sight of glittering treasures and vulnerable captives often proved too tempting to resist, no matter how strictly they were warned.

"To hell with the 'Ten Sins'!" the stocky pirate spat, shoving Aramis's hand away. His face was flushed, either from anger or from being choked moments earlier. "We've been stuck at sea with nothing but men for half a month! Now we're on land, and you're telling me I can't have a woman? What kind of 'Morgan Code' is this? Does he think he's the World Government or the Marines, trying to enforce justice? Who does he think he is, some East Blue trash...?"

The pirate's rant was cut short as the cold barrel of a pistol pressed against his forehead. Aramis, expressionless, held the weapon steady. "Care to repeat that?"

The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed in the room as the lanky pirate from the Grand Line, who had accompanied the stocky man, reflexively drew his own pistol and aimed it at Aramis.

This action triggered a chain reaction. Hatcheson instinctively drew his gun and pointed it at the lanky pirate.

The room, which had just settled after the earlier battle, was once again filled with tension. The lanky pirate hesitated, his finger twitching on the trigger as he tried to de-escalate. "There's no need for this. Look, it's just the four of us here. If we don't say anything, who's going to know what we did?"

Aramis turned his gaze to the lanky pirate. His face, which had been dark and stormy, suddenly broke into a smile, revealing two sharp canine teeth.

The lanky pirate mistook this for a sign of compromise and sighed in relief. But before he could fully relax, a gunshot rang out.

《One Piece：The True Codex》Bang!

Aramis had pulled the trigger. The stocky pirate's expression froze as a bullet tore through his skull, spraying blood and brain matter onto the wall behind him. His body collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.

The lanky pirate's face turned pale. His finger twitched on the trigger of his own gun but did not pull it.

Aramis's smile vanished as he holstered his pistol. He stepped over the stocky pirate's corpse and walked straight toward the lanky pirate, his gaze cold and unyielding.

When he reached the man, he tapped the barrel of the pirate's gun against his own chest, then gently pushed it aside with a single finger. Leaning in close, their faces nearly touching, Aramis stared him down.

"You're nothing but a pack of lapdogs from the Grand Line. Who gave you the guts to defy the captain's orders?" Aramis sneered.

He snatched the pistol from the lanky pirate's hand and delivered a solid punch, knocking the man to the ground. Without looking back, Aramis strode out of the bedroom, his frustration evident in his heavy footsteps. As he left, he tossed over his shoulder, "Tie him up and bring him to the captain for judgment."

Hatcheson nodded, finding a rope to bind the lanky pirate, who offered no resistance. Secretly, Hatcheson was impressed by Aramis's boldness. His earlier doubts about William's decision to promote Aramis so quickly were now significantly diminished.

Outside the house, Aramis leaned against the wall, his face pale. He clutched his chest and muttered to himself, "Damn it, good thing he was a coward."

Chapter 101

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 101: Sacrifices of the Era (Part 1)

After binding the lanky pirate, Hatcheson scanned the room. He yanked down the curtains and draped them over the young girl, then pulled out his dagger to cut the ropes that bound her.

The girl, now free, showed no sign of gratitude. Instead, she clutched the curtain tightly and backed away from Hatcheson, her face filled with wariness and fear. Her eyes stayed locked on him, watching his every move. But soon, as if remembering something, she quickly got off the bed and began searching the room.

It didn't take long for her to find the corpse of the man on the floor. Trembling, she collapsed to her knees. Ignoring the bloodstains, she cradled the cold, lifeless body of her father in her arms and began to sob uncontrollably.

"We should leave," Aramis said as he re-entered the room, catching sight of the heartbreaking scene. Feeling uncomfortable, he nudged the bound lanky pirate with his foot and said to Hatcheson, "Take this guy to the captain for judgment."

Meanwhile, William and his ship had easily dealt with Guy and his pirates. The vessel had already docked at the pier. Selkirk, after disembarking, led a group of men deeper into the town to provide reinforcements. As they reached a street corner, they saw Hatcheson and Aramis escorting the bound lanky pirate out of the alley.

Selkirk's expression darkened at the sight. The lanky pirate, however, looked relieved and called out, "Captain..."

"Shut up!" Selkirk barked, cutting him off with a scowl. "How many times do I have to tell you? There's only one captain on this ship. Call me the first mate!"

Turning to Aramis and Hatcheson, Selkirk asked, "What did he do?"

Aramis squinted at Selkirk without saying a word. It was Hatcheson who replied, "He disobeyed the captain's orders."

Selkirk spat on the ground in frustration. "And Sant? He was with you, wasn't he? Where is he?"

Sant, the stocky pirate, was the one Selkirk referred to. Aramis responded bluntly, "That guy insulted the captain. I shot him."

Selkirk whipped around to stare at Aramis, who met his gaze without flinching.

After a long pause, Selkirk gritted his teeth and said, "Good. If he had insulted the captain in front of me, I'd have shot him too."

With that, Selkirk turned and walked away, his expression grim. The lanky pirate called out to him twice, but Selkirk didn't respond.

After clearing the remaining enemies onshore, the Morgan Pirates regrouped at the docks to count their injured and assess their losses.

Despite the short time spent in the town, several violations of William's ironclad rules had already occurred. William was certain that if the pirates were allowed to stay in the town any longer, the number of transgressions would only increase.

The rescued townsfolk were left bewildered by what they had witnessed. It was clear at a glance that the Morgan Pirates were indeed pirates. But after defeating their enemies, they had left in an orderly manner, without looting or oppressing the townspeople. This was the first time the residents had encountered pirates who behaved this way.

The mayor of Black Reef Town, Darwil, was particularly uneasy. While the other townsfolk could bury their heads in the sand, pretending the pirates had never been there, Darwil, as the mayor, couldn't afford to take that approach.

Darwil gathered the townsfolk once more, preparing to lead them to hide outside the town. But he knew deep down that this was a futile effort. The Morgan Pirates had captured many of their enemies, and it wouldn't take long for them to discover the hiding spots outside the town.

So, despite his fear, Darwil mustered his courage and decided to go to the docks. His plan was to speak with this unusual pirate crew's captain—to humble himself and beg for the safety of the town's residents.

Some of the braver townsfolk offered to accompany Darwil, the elderly man with graying hair, but he refused. After all, the people he was about to face were ruthless pirates. The outcome of this meeting was uncertain, and he didn't want anyone else risking their lives alongside him.

When Darwil arrived at the docks, he was greeted by the sight of William administering justice to his disobedient crew.

Four pirates, including the lanky one, knelt on the open ground of the dock, their hands bound behind their backs with rope. William stood before the lanky pirate, while Kuro followed closely behind him, carrying a stack of drinking bowls and a jug of strong liquor.

William crouched down and knelt in front of the lanky pirate. Taking the jug and a bowl from Kuro, he filled the bowl with liquor and carefully brought it to the pirate's lips, offering him a drink.

The lanky pirate drank too quickly, choking and coughing. His eyes reddened as he said, "Captain, I admit my guilt for disobeying your orders. But I don't understand—why should we, as pirates, restrain ourselves like this? I don't accept it!"

William poured himself a drink from the jug and spoke softly, "Have you ever thought about how you'd feel if one day, your brothers, sisters, or family suffered the same fate?"

"I'm an orphan. I have no family," the lanky pirate replied bluntly.

"Then have you ever wondered why you became an orphan?"

William filled the bowl with liquor again. He raised it in a toast to the lanky pirate, then tilted his head back and drank it all in one go.

Crash! The empty bowl shattered as William smashed it against the ground.

The crisp sound seemed to break the lanky pirate's emotional defenses. Tears streamed down his face as he began to sob uncontrollably. Perhaps it was guilt surfacing in his final moments, or more likely, it was sheer terror. But William chose to believe it was the former.

Placing a hand on the pirate's shoulder, William stood up, drew the katana at his waist, and raised the blade high. "Brother, may you rest in peace!" he declared.

The moment his words ended, the blade flashed. The lanky pirate's head was severed cleanly, rolling a few times on the ground before coming to a stop.

William handed the blood-stained katana to Kuro, then picked up the jug and bowl, moving on to the next kneeling pirate.

The dock fell silent. The Morgan Pirates stood quietly, watching as William carried out the executions. His method of justice was deeply rooted in the traditions of clans and outlaws—a mix of harsh discipline and human sentiment.

William had put considerable thought into this process, though it was a decision born of necessity. After all, his crew was made up of pirates. Even with only ten rules, which William, as a modern-day traveler, considered lenient, they were seen as harsh and inhumane by the standards of this world's pirates.

The tension on the ship was palpable. William knew he needed to balance discipline with morale. If he executed his crew without ceremony, it would only breed resentment, driving them to disloyalty—just like what had happened to Barbarossa, whose crew's divided loyalties ultimately led to his downfall.

Selkirk stood among the crowd, his jaw clenched tightly. He didn't move, silently watching the proceedings.

In the distance, Darwil, the mayor of Black Reef Town, also watched. He saw William offer each kneeling pirate a drink, exchange a few words, and then execute them one by one.

Darwil's emotions were simpler than Selkirk's. He felt nothing but fear. He wanted to flee, but two pirates were watching him closely. Besides, his legs had gone weak from the day's events and the horrifying scene before him. He couldn't run even if he wanted to.

Chapter 102

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 102: Sacrifices of the Era (Part 2)

After dealing with the disobedient crew members, William noticed Darwil, the mayor of Black Reef Town.

When William's gaze fell on him, Darwil's legs nearly gave out beneath him. Fortunately, two pirates beside him caught him and brought him forward to face William.

"You're from the town? What are you doing here?" William asked as he accepted a piece of cloth from Kuro and began wiping the blood off his blade.

"Y-Yes, sir," Darwil stammered, trying to steady himself. He avoided looking at the corpses on the ground, but his trembling voice betrayed his fear. "I'm the mayor of the town..."

"Mayor?" William interrupted, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

He looked up from his blade, shifting his attention to the frail old man before him.

Darwil's figure was thin and trembling in the cold wind. His clothes were dusty and tattered, his face weathered with deep lines, and his sparse white hair, atop a balding head, was disheveled and fluttering in the sea breeze.

He looked more like a beggar than a mayor.

Seeing the terror in the old man's eyes and hearing his stammering speech, William immediately understood the depth of his fear.

Glancing at the blood-soaked dock littered with corpses, William decided to extend an invitation. "Come aboard," he said. "I've been meaning to have a word with the mayor."

On the Morgan Pirates' flagship, a small round table was set up on the foredeck. It was modestly adorned with peanuts, fruit, and, of course, rum—a staple on any pirate ship.

William, along with his key officers—Harden, Kuro, Aramis, and Selkirk—sat around the table with the visibly uneasy Darwil.

William, wearing a warm smile, poured a drink for the nervous mayor. His demeanor, combined with the earlier courteous invitation and assistance as Darwil boarded the ship, gave the impression of genuine hospitality.

However, Darwil couldn't forget the same young man, now pouring him a drink with a smile, had just moments ago executed several men on the docks without so much as a blink. Any illusions he might have entertained were quickly dispelled.

Pirates—they were all ruthless, bloodthirsty killers.

William's actions weren't entirely calculated. Darwil appeared to be in his sixties or seventies, and seeing such an elderly man humbly begging for mercy stirred something in William. After all, in his previous life, William had lived as an ordinary man, much like Darwil. When he first arrived in this chaotic world dominated by the strong, he had felt just as lost and powerless.

As they drank and conversed, Darwil remained cautious, surrounded by pirates. When he heard William explain that the punishment of his crew onshore was due to their disobedience and harm to the townsfolk, a flicker of astonishment crossed Darwil's face. He quickly masked it, replacing it with a flattering smile. "Sir, you and your men are truly remarkable. It's a blessing for the East Blue to have heroes like you."

William immediately saw through Darwil's attempt to flatter him and laughed. "Heroes, you say? That's too high a praise. But let me remind you, the East Blue is the birthplace of 'Pirate King' Gol D. Roger. No matter what kind of people emerge from here, it shouldn't surprise you, Mayor."

Darwil forced an awkward smile and didn't respond.

Across the table, Harden, a devoted admirer of Gol D. Roger, perked up at the mention of the Pirate King. His eyes lit up with excitement. A straightforward and loyal warrior, Harden deeply respected William's strength and leadership, firmly believing he could become the next great pirate to rise from the East Blue.

"Captain, there's no need to be so modest!" Harden declared, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "The 'Pirate King' Roger was the pride of the East Blue in his time, but who's to say we can't become the next pride of the East Blue? You might be the next Pirate King!"

Aramis let out an exaggerated "Wow!" and pointed at Harden with a laugh. "Who would've thought? This guy always seems so serious, but he's actually quite the flatterer!"

The others around the table burst into laughter, and even William allowed himself a faint smile. But the lighthearted moment was abruptly interrupted by a low voice:

"Gol D. Roger... the pride of the East Blue? What a joke."

The table wasn't large, and the pirates had sharp ears. Though the voice was quiet, everyone heard it clearly.

William's smile faded. He turned his gaze toward Darwil, who sat with his head lowered, staring at the drink in front of him like a schoolboy caught in trouble. William's brow slowly furrowed.

Harden, however, was not as patient. He glared at Darwil and barked, "What did you just say?"

Aramis, sensing the rising tension, tried to diffuse it with a chuckle. "Come on, maybe it was just a slip of the tongue. No need to get worked up."

But Darwil surprised everyone by raising his head and speaking loudly. "It wasn't a slip of the tongue. What right does Gol D. Roger have to be called the pride of the East Blue?"

Harden slammed his fist on the table and stood abruptly, startling Darwil, who stumbled back a few steps in fear.

"And who are you to judge the Pirate King?" Harden roared. "Gol D. Roger escaped the clutches of the World Government time and again, conquered the Grand Line, and ushered in the Great Pirate Era. If he's not the pride of the East Blue, then who is? You?"

Harden's voice grew louder with each word. Darwil, trembling at first, began to feel a different emotion welling up—anger.

"The Great Pirate Era..." Darwil muttered, his voice filled with bitterness. Memories of his family, killed by pirates, and the humiliation of bowing to countless marauders flooded his mind. His hatred for Roger and his resentment toward Harden's words overcame his fear.

"Look behind me! Look at my hometown!" Darwil shouted, stepping toward the ship's railing and pointing at the devastated Black Reef Town. The docks were a scene of destruction, with not a single intact building in sight. Smoke still rose from the ruins, remnants of the fires set by pirates. "Look at all of this! And you still call the Pirate King the pride of the East Blue?"

"Sure, the East Blue is Gol D. Roger's homeland. But look at what he's brought to the East Blue, to the world!" Darwil's voice rose to a fever pitch, filled with despair and fury. "Gol D. Roger isn't the pride of the East Blue—he's its shame!"

Harden, enraged, grabbed Darwil by the collar and lifted him off the ground, his feet dangling in the air.

"Let him go, Harden," William said calmly, still seated.

"But, Captain..." Harden protested, his face flushed with anger. He glanced back at William, trying to justify his actions, but his grip on Darwil's collar didn't loosen.

"I said," William repeated, his tone firm, "let him go."

Chapter 103

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 103: Sacrifices of the Era (Part 3)

Harden exhaled heavily a few times before finally letting go. Darwil stumbled as his feet hit the ground, nearly falling over.

"Kuro, escort Mayor Darwil off the ship," William instructed calmly, his tone as composed as ever.

Then, turning to the visibly shaken Darwil, William said, "Mayor Darwil, as I've told you, my crew and I are not like other pirates. We'll be stationed here for a while, but we'll remain on our ship during our downtime. You can assure your townsfolk that it's safe to return to their homes. If you receive any information about lingering bandits, you can come to me. And if any of my crew harms your townsfolk, you can also come to me."

After finishing his statement, William didn't wait for a response. He waved his hand, signaling Kuro to escort Darwil off the ship.

Once the two had left, William turned his attention to Harden, who was still fuming over Darwil's disparaging remarks about the Pirate King.

"He's just a fool brainwashed by the World Government, full of prejudice and misunderstanding about the Pirate King!" Harden said angrily.

"His hometown was just pillaged by pirates, and he's old enough to be our grandfather, yet he still has to bow and scrape to us pirates for mercy. From his perspective, all of this is caused by the Great Pirate Era. When you praise the Pirate King, the one who started it all, of course, he'll be furious," William said calmly. "It's entirely understandable for him to say what he did. He's a civilian, one of the many victims of pirate raids. Ever since the Great Pirate Era began, countless pirates have emerged. From his standpoint, it's only natural for him to resent Gol D. Roger. What else would you expect him to feel? Should he love the Pirate King?"

"He doesn't understand the greatness of the Pirate King or the significance of the Great Pirate Era. He doesn't see how the Pirate King challenged the Marines and shook the foundations of the World Government!" Harden retorted, still indignant.

At that moment, Selkirk, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "Of course he doesn't understand. Neither does any other civilian. Do you know why?"

"Regardless of what the Pirate King's ultimate goal was, that mayor, this town, and countless other villages and towns that have suffered similar fates—all these civilians are the ones who've been sacrificed to this era. They are the ones being tormented by the era that Gol D. Roger himself set into motion. So, do you think they'll ever acknowledge or understand the greatness of this era or its initiator? Tell me, as a pirate, would you ever acknowledge or understand the greatness of the Marines who hunt you down relentlessly?"

Selkirk hailed from the North Blue, where pirates ran rampant far more than in the East Blue. He had also ventured into the lawless Grand Line, where the chaos inflicted by pirates was even more severe. Having witnessed the devastation caused by pirates firsthand, Selkirk understood the toll they took on civilians better than Harden ever could.

Harden fell silent. Seeing this, William said, "Go to your room and take some time to calm down."

After Harden left, Selkirk, who had been unusually quiet since witnessing the executions onshore, also retreated to his quarters without a word.

Now, only William and Aramis remained on the deck.

William left the table and walked to the bow of the ship. Standing against the sea breeze, he squinted at the distant town. Aramis silently followed and stood behind him.

"Being here reminds me of that innocent woman I killed back then," William said with a sigh.

Aramis smirked. "What's the big deal? You know what kind of people Danton and his crew were. If she'd fallen into their hands, she wouldn't have survived anyway. And before dying, she'd have suffered far worse."

"But I didn't expect the Marines to arrive so soon after I killed her. Maybe I should've waited a little longer," William murmured.

"You couldn't have known that," Aramis replied, frowning. "And even if you had waited, what could you have done? Back then, Bamond had us surrounded with his men. It's easy to say 'wait,' but we didn't have the skills we have now. Could we have protected her from them?"

"You're too soft-hearted when it comes to ordinary people who can only cower before the strong," Aramis added.

"Do you have a problem with the way I handle things?" William asked, turning to face him.

Aramis nodded. In the past, he might have blurted out his thoughts without hesitation. But since Vallon's death and his rise to the rank of officer in a major pirate crew, he had matured. At least now, he could hold back his curiosity until they were alone.

"I don't understand your attitude toward that mayor and those civilians. They're just ordinary people. Is it worth compromising the crew's interests for them? After all, it's the crew that fights for us," Aramis asked.

"This world is built on the foundation of ordinary people," William said, lighting a cigarette. After exhaling a puff of smoke, he continued, "Do you know what's most terrifying about the Marines?"

"The Admirals?"

"No. It's their ability to replace an Admiral immediately if one dies unexpectedly. That kind of foundation—an endless pool of talent—is what makes them terrifying. And the reason they have such a foundation is because they're rooted in the very ordinary people you look down on. Countless 'ordinary people' join the Marines in the name of 'justice,' and among them, there are always some who are anything but ordinary."

William's tone was steady as he explained, "If you want to build the pinnacle of a pyramid, you first need a massive base."

Aramis frowned but said nothing.

"And that's just the Marines," William continued with a hint of awe. "What about the World Government?"

Aramis seemed to grasp something and asked, "Are you trying to emulate the World Government or the Marines? How could we? We're just pirates!"

"Exactly. If we're just a group of bandits who only know how to loot and destroy without understanding how to build, we'll never compare to the World Government or the Marines, who have goals and ambitions," William said softly. Then he asked, "What do you think of the World Government?"

Aramis sneered in disdain.

William chuckled at his reaction.

The World Government's atrocities were well-documented. For instance, the bridge nation of Tequila Wolf in the East Blue used countless enslaved workers, many of whom were citizens of nations that refused to join the World Government.

The descendants of the twenty kings who founded the World Government considered themselves creators, enjoying countless privileges as the so-called Celestial Dragons.

The Celestial Dragons were so arrogant that they refused to breathe the same air as ordinary humans, often wearing astronaut-like helmets. They also maintained a culture of slavery, capturing people of various races as slaves, regardless of whether they were citizens of World Government member nations.

Corruption ran rampant within the government, and even the Marines, the face of the World Government, were not immune. The regime's sins were innumerable, and many of its policies and actions were far from those of a normal government.

Yet, despite all this, the World Government still enjoyed the support of the common people.

"Why do you think the people still support the World Government, despite how terrible it is?" William asked.

"Because they're idiots!" Aramis scoffed.

"Wrong. It's because they have no other choice," William said, shaking his head. His eyes glinted as he continued, "People born into chaos long for peace. Most of them just want someone to suppress the lawlessness and end this cruel era. No matter how corrupt or incompetent the World Government is, they're still the ones consistently hunting down pirates in the name of 'justice.'"

Whether their motives were pure or not, the World Government and the Marines were undeniably working to end the Great Pirate Era.

"Restoring order to a chaotic world—that's what the people want. The World Government and the Marines have that goal, and they're in the best position to achieve it. That's why people cling to them, even if they have to hold their noses to do it. But what if they had a better option? They might not be so loyal to the World Government after all," William said, his gaze sharp.

Aramis finally understood William's meaning. He shivered and glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby before whispering, "You'd better not say things like that to anyone else."

"I only say it to those I trust," William replied with a nonchalant smile. "Now, go get some rest."

Aramis nodded and headed toward the back of the ship. Halfway there, he turned to look back. William was still standing at the bow, as still as a statue, staring at the distant town. What he was thinking remained a mystery.

Chapter 104

Chapter 104: The Flower

What was William thinking as he stood at the bow of the ship?

Psychologist Maslow categorized human needs into five levels: physiological needs, safety needs, social needs, esteem needs, and self-actualization needs.

For William, his physiological needs were fully met—he lacked nothing in terms of food, clothing, or shelter. Were it not for his strong self-discipline, his current status and power in the East Blue would easily attract countless admirers with just a wave of his hand.

As for social needs, he had the guidance of his teacher, Koushirou, and the camaraderie of loyal companions like Gin, Aramis, and others who had shared trials and tribulations with him.

In terms of esteem needs, William had already become a Pivotal Figure in the East Blue. Even someone like Darwil, the mayor of a small town, approached him with utmost caution.

What occupied William's mind now were his safety needs and his pursuit of self-actualization.

At first, William's disdain for the bandit-like nature of pirates stemmed from his mindset in his previous life. But even now, after gaining a deeper understanding of this world, that disdain not only persisted but had grown stronger.

The pinnacle of such banditry was undoubtedly the Pirate King Gol D. Roger. But what became of him?

Judging from the events following the start of the Great Pirate Era, it was possible that Roger's capture had more to it than met the eye—perhaps even orchestrated by the World Government. However, the fates of those associated with Roger after his death served as a warning to William.

William had always been attentive to news about the sea train. When he first read about it in the newspapers, he recognized it as a groundbreaking invention. This led him to learn more about its designer, the fish-man shipwright Tom.

The East Blue Daily once ran a series of articles about Tom's life, though they reportedly didn't sell well. Natives of the East Blue, like Vallon, Edmond, and Aramis, showed little interest in a shipwright from faraway Water 7, even if he was somewhat connected to the Pirate King. Upon learning that Tom wasn't a crew member but merely a shipbuilder, their interest waned entirely.

But William was different. When he saw how such a brilliant designer and shipwright could be so easily manipulated by the World Government due to his connection to the Pirate King, it left a deep impression on him. Many others around the world suffered similar fates simply because of their ties to Roger.

How could someone like William, who valued control and independence, ever aspire to follow in Roger's footsteps and become a mere bandit?

There was no way he would accept seeing Gin, Aramis, Sherlock, or even Tony—his trusted companions—become pawns for the World Government to toy with, especially not after his death.

Moreover, William had once been a slave to the Celestial Dragons, and he had even killed one. Though the incident had long passed and there were no witnesses, it remained a hidden danger, a thorn in his heart.

As someone who had experienced life in a modern society, William found it emotionally difficult to align himself with a regime like the World Government.

To him, the Celestial Dragons were like maggots—disgusting to even think about, let alone tolerate as overlords. The fact that such creatures could live in luxury and arrogance, protected by laws and violence, was utterly revolting.

From his background, emotions, and rational perspective, the mere existence of the World Government was an obstacle for William. It was the source of his insecurity and a target of his innate hostility.

William was also a power-hungry individual, an ambitious man who always sought more authority and influence. His life's purpose was to climb higher on the pyramid of power. Naturally, this led him to entertain thoughts of overthrowing the World Government and taking its place.

Ever since William had crossed into this world, his options had been limited. He could either live as a small, insignificant figure, drifting aimlessly in this chaotic era until he was swallowed by its tides and died a silent death. Or he could face the challenges head-on, climbing toward the summit without retreating, knowing that any hesitation could lead to a fatal fall.

William chose the latter. Thus, smuggling operations, corrupting low-level Marines, drafting the Morgan Code, and protecting local villages and towns—everything he did was part of his strategic groundwork. But it wasn't enough.

Looking at the broader picture, the World Government and the Marines bore some resemblance to the decaying regimes of history, such as the late Yuan Dynasty—corrupt, oppressive, yet still possessing significant military power. The various pirate factions, on the other hand, were like the scattered rebel forces that emerged under oppressive policies. However, most pirates were far less competent than historical rebels; over 80% lacked even the semblance of political ambition.

From this perspective, Gol D. Roger's initiation of the Great Pirate Era gave these aimless rebel forces a common goal. Yet, in William's eyes, they remained a disorganized mess.

At the same time, the Great Pirate Era provided the World Government and the Marines with a unifying cause. The civilians tormented by the influx of pirates began to regain some faith in the oppressive regime.

In Darwil, William saw a glimpse of the kind of ideology and purpose that could elevate his faction beyond the level of mere banditry. It was the key to ensuring his group wouldn't fall into the same category as aimless pirates.

At the grassroots level, a unifying ideology could inspire people to endure hardships and rigorous training, transforming them into stronger individuals.

At the mid-to-high levels, it served as a mental anchor and a set of constraints. Humans are social creatures; with consistent indoctrination, even those with great strength could be influenced to follow discipline and leadership, rallying under a common banner. These ideologically aligned elites could also keep dissenters in check, much like the relationship between the Marines and their powerful officers.

To truly command respect, one needed not just strength but also ideas.

Nationalism, statism—it didn't matter to William what the ideology was, as long as it helped him climb to the pinnacle of power and rid himself of the burdens weighing on him.

For now, ending this chaotic era and restoring order seemed like a promising rallying cry. Even if it wasn't everyone's goal, William would make it so. And he would become the one destined to bring it all to an end—the one everyone looked up to.

The Morgan Pirates stayed in Black Reef Town for a week. The townsfolk remained wary of them, with most choosing not to return to their homes, instead hiding in the mountains outside the town.

However, as days passed, they noticed that the pirates indeed kept to their word, refraining from disturbing or harming the residents. Gradually, people began returning to their homes, cleaning up the wreckage left by the raid.

During this time, William invited Mayor Darwil and several other local leaders aboard his ship to discuss future arrangements.

William stationed two retired pirates with disabilities at the town's dock. These men, no longer fit for combat, would promote his brewery's products to passing ships and act as liaisons, reporting any unusual occurrences to William.

The Morgan Pirates would also patrol the surrounding seas regularly, bringing the town under their protection.

In return, the pirates would occasionally dock at the town, which would be required to provide supplies. William promised to pay fair prices for these goods. Additionally, the town would pay a small "security tax" to the pirates each month.

The amount was minimal, far below Darwil and the others' expectations. For William, the money itself wasn't important—it was the symbolism of taxation that mattered. It represented governance and would take root in the minds of the townsfolk.

When Darwil and the others suggested offering additional tributes to ensure the pirates' goodwill, William politely declined.

Throughout the week, Darwil and the town's leaders tread carefully, doing their best to meet the pirates' demands, fearing that any misstep might provoke them into plundering the town like other pirate crews.

When the townsfolk heard that William and his crew were leaving, they organized a farewell at the dock.

Some pirates were busy unloading goods from the ship, wrapping them in pirate flags before placing them on the dock.

Curious, Darwil asked, "Captain Stolt, what is all this?"

"Some supplies," William replied calmly. "The town has just been raided and needs these items."

Darwil and the other local leaders exchanged surprised glances. After a moment, Darwil grasped William's hand.

"You once said that you and your crew are different from other pirates. Now, I truly believe it," the old man said sincerely for the first time, his usual flattery replaced by genuine respect. "You won't just be another Gol D. Roger. You'll be greater than him—a true pride of the East Blue!"

The other leaders echoed his sentiment.

In truth, what William had given was of little value—mostly bulky, low-cost items taken from Guy's pirate crew. But the fact that they were given under the banner of pirates created a stark contrast, leaving a deep impression on Darwil and the others.

Among the crowd behind Darwil stood Mary, the innkeeper, and her daughter, Isha. They had narrowly escaped Guy's raid and remained safe until now.

As William finished speaking with Darwil and prepared to leave, Isha suddenly ran out from the crowd, clutching a wildflower she had picked along the way.

Under the surprised, confused, and worried gazes of those behind her, the little girl approached William and held out the simple flower.

"Thank you for saving us," Isha said, tilting her head back to look up at him. She stood on her tiptoes, stretching her arm as high as she could to offer the flower.

Some townsfolk looked on anxiously. Despite the pirates' behavior over the past week, their deeply ingrained perception of pirates as ruthless criminals made them fear that Isha might anger William.

The pirates on the dock gradually stopped their work, their expressions complicated as they watched the scene unfold.

William looked down at Isha, feeling a sense of familiarity. He scanned the crowd and quickly spotted Mary, smiling at him from the front row.

William smiled back. He recognized the mother and daughter as the people he had saved from the wine cellar during the raid.

"You're welcome," William said, bending down to accept the flower. Carefully, he tucked it into his chest and added sincerely, "And thank you for the flower."

Isha smiled shyly, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

William patted her head gently before turning to board his ship. The pirates resumed their work, but their occasional glances toward the townsfolk were no longer tinged with resentment from William's discipline. Instead, they seemed friendlier.

《One Piece：The True Codex》Volume Two: Demon of the East Blue, Complete.

Next Volume: The Thief Who Stole a Nation

"Let the rain pour; I shall sit and rule the kingdom!"

Chapter 105

Chapter 105: Yasopp

《One Piece：The True Codex》East Blue, Syrup Village.

The chill of autumn was no match for the villagers' enthusiasm. On a clearing at the edge of the village, the usual tranquility had been replaced by a lively atmosphere. The local residents crowded around a large competition arena, their cheers and whistles echoing through the air. It had been a long time since this remote village had seen such excitement.

The event was a shooting competition, though it had essentially turned into a one-man show.

On a makeshift platform on the eastern side of the shooting range, William stood draped in a dark red cloak. Behind him were Edmond, Dampier, and Sherlock, all watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.

In the arena, the other contestants had already lowered their guns in resignation, their faces tinged with helplessness. All eyes were on a slender man with thick lips and wild, curly hair. He had just put down an old-fashioned flintlock pistol and was now accepting a revolver handed to him by one of the judges.

Meanwhile, a few other judges were busy removing the targets in front of the man, all of which had been hit dead center.

One judge took a moment to explain the structure of the revolver—a weapon still quite rare in the East Blue—to the thick-lipped man. However, the man, reeking of alcohol and exuding a lazy demeanor, didn't seem to be paying much attention. After taking the revolver, he casually walked to the edge of the arena, where he grabbed a bottle of beer from a woman with a headscarf and gave her an exuberant kiss.

The villagers whistled and cheered as the woman, blushing, gently pushed the man away. Grinning, he sauntered back to the shooting range.

Dampier, who had come to collect data on the new weapon, frowned at the man's behavior. "What a disgrace," he muttered coldly.

"Yasopp is indeed a bit... unrestrained," Sherlock said with a chuckle, adjusting his glasses. "But his marksmanship is renowned far and wide. I've heard of him for a long time, which is why I recommended him to William."

As the two spoke, Yasopp raised the revolver and aimed at the newly placed targets. After taking a swig of beer, he suddenly pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The shot rang out, but the target remained untouched.

"Pfft!" Edmond couldn't help but snicker at the anticlimactic miss, especially after Yasopp had drawn so much attention to himself.

But before Edmond's laughter had fully subsided, Yasopp's finger moved rapidly, firing five more shots in quick succession. In the blink of an eye, the revolver was empty—and all five bullets had landed dead center on the target. The spacing between the bullet holes was less than half a centimeter.

William clapped softly.

He was no longer the white-collar worker from his previous life who had barely touched a gun. While he couldn't yet claim to be an expert marksman, he had learned enough to understand that shooting accuracy wasn't solely about the shooter's skill. Variations in the manufacturing of guns and bullets, as well as environmental factors, could all affect the outcome. Even identical models of firearms wouldn't produce the same trajectory under identical conditions.

And yet, Yasopp, using an unfamiliar prototype revolver, had managed to adjust for its trajectory after just one test shot. This wasn't merely a matter of experience—it was raw talent.

This shooting competition had been organized under the name of the trading company run by Sherlock, which William had named Four Seas Trading Company.

The event was held in this remote village partly to test whether Sherlock's recommendation of Yasopp was as impressive as claimed. The other reason was to gather experimental data for the prototype revolver developed by Dampier's workshop after months of research and to promote this new weapon in the East Blue.

Judging by the results, the first goal had been achieved. The competition had started with contestants using old-fashioned flintlock pistols before switching to the new revolvers, highlighting the advantages of the latter. However, Yasopp's overwhelming skill in the first round had quickly discouraged the other competitors, turning the event into a one-man show.

William had taken time out of his busy schedule to personally visit this remote village, and it seemed the trip had been worth it.

William, along with Edmond, Sherlock, and Dampier, visited Yasopp's home under the pretext of delivering the competition prizes.

Yasopp's house was no different from the other residences in the village. It was a modest single-story home on a small hillside, surrounded by a low fence that enclosed a tiny flower garden. A pile of chopped firewood was stacked on one side of the house.

Yasopp's personality was as bold and carefree as his behavior at the competition. Just as he had openly drunk and kissed in front of the crowd, he welcomed William and the others into his home without a hint of caution, despite rumors in the village that the competition's organizer was a notorious pirate.

He introduced them to his wife, Banchina, and his five-year-old son, Usopp, and even invited them to stay for dinner as the evening grew darker.

Banchina was a gracious hostess. She shooed Yasopp out of the kitchen when he tried to help and continued bustling about even after William and the others had taken their seats at the dining table. She poured everyone beer before finally sitting down at the end of the table with Usopp in her arms, helping him eat while he curiously studied their guests.

Banchina was a beautiful woman, distinguished by her long nose—a feature Usopp had clearly inherited, giving him an oddly comical appearance.

While William, Sherlock, and Dampier were seasoned enough to politely avert their gazes, Edmond couldn't help but glance at Banchina and Usopp's noses a couple of times. This made Yasopp frown.

William patted Edmond on the shoulder, prompting him to realize his faux pas and look away. Smiling apologetically, William raised his glass to Yasopp in a silent gesture of reconciliation.

Yasopp's expression softened. He nodded and took a large swig of beer before casually gesturing toward the living room with his chin.

From their seats, the group could see a suitcase lying on the living room floor. It contained the prize money from the competition, yet Yasopp had tossed it aside carelessly.

"Honestly, I don't care much about the money," Yasopp said. "Could you give me that revolver as the prize instead? I'll forgo the cash."

"That's a bit tricky," Sherlock replied, glancing at William before smiling. "The revolver is still a prototype. It was brought here to collect data for future improvements, so we can't give it away as a prize."

Yasopp's face fell. Compared to the old flintlock pistols, the revolver's advantages were not limited to its higher ammunition capacity. Its improved firing mechanism and bullet design represented a comprehensive upgrade over older firearms.

As a naturally gifted marksman, Yasopp had immediately recognized the revolver's exceptional quality after using it just once.

Of course, Sherlock wasn't entirely truthful. The revolver wasn't nearly as critical as he made it out to be. He was merely playing hard to get under William's instructions.

"With all due respect, Yasopp," William said, seizing the opportunity as he noticed Yasopp's disappointment. "Staying in a village like this as a farmer is a waste of your shooting talent. I'd like to invite you to join my crew. You deserve a bigger stage to showcase your skills."

(Details about Yasopp's timeline with the Red-Haired Pirates will be uploaded in the related works section later, and a visual version will be available on the official WeChat account "Author Dezho." To summarize: in the prologue of the Strong World movie tie-in, Shanks invited Yasopp to join his crew, but Yasopp didn't accept at the time, as Usopp hadn't been born yet. When Usopp and Luffy first mentioned their fathers, Usopp seemed surprised that Yasopp had joined the Red-Haired Pirates, suggesting neither he nor Banchina had met Shanks. Considering that Banchina was said to have passed away shortly after Yasopp left, and that Usopp was already old enough to understand her death, it's likely Yasopp had already ventured into the Grand Line by then.)

Chapter 106

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 106: Refusal

"Join your crew?" Yasopp paused mid-sip of his drink, the rumors circulating in the village flashing through his mind.

Hearing this, Banchina also stopped stirring the pot, her expression complicated as she looked toward William.

"You've probably heard by now—I'm the captain of a pirate crew," William said calmly. "The Morgan Pirates. I wonder if you've heard of us."

"You're the captain of the Morgan Pirates?" Yasopp was momentarily stunned.

"I've heard of some of the things your crew has done," Yasopp said, setting his glass down with a serious expression. "You don't plunder civilians, and sometimes you even leave supplies, wrapped in your pirate flag, at the docks of villages that have been raided by other pirates. I greatly admire what you've done."

William had always placed great importance on public relations. Stories of the Morgan Pirates' actions were not only spread because of their unique approach but also due to promotions orchestrated by Sherlock and his Four Seas Trading Company.

William continued, "Since you've heard of us, you should also know that we're not like other pirate crews. Those weak and cowardly pirate crews prey on the defenseless, but we target the wicked among our own kind. They'll take anyone as a crew member, but I'm different…"

Yasopp chuckled at William's blunt critique, but his laughter stopped when William suddenly pointed at him and said, "On my ship, I only want the best. And by the way, the revolver used in today's competition? That was developed by my company. If you join my crew, you'll be the first to access all kinds of new weaponry in the future."

Being valued by someone is always gratifying, especially when that someone is the leader of a rising "Robin Hood" organization like the Morgan Pirates. For someone like Yasopp, the label of "pirate" was of little concern. He grinned, ready to respond, but his gaze fell on Banchina and Usopp, who were both looking at him. His smile gradually faded, and after a moment of silence, he finally said, "I'm sorry. I have a wife and child at home. I can't just leave them behind."

"On my ship, the families of my crew are my family too. Even if you were willing to abandon them, I wouldn't allow it as your captain," William said with a light laugh. But seeing that Yasopp remained silent, he added, "As long as I draw breath, I will ensure the safety of my crew's families. So, if you're worried about danger—"

"I'm not afraid of danger!" Yasopp interrupted firmly.

William, though polite and humble since stepping into Yasopp's home, was still the leader of a well-known pirate crew and the owner of the Four Seas Trading Company. Yasopp, on the other hand, was just a farmer in a remote village. The difference in their statuses was immense.

Yasopp, despite his carefree nature and pride in his shooting talent, didn't want William to think of him as a coward.

But words alone weren't enough to convince everyone. Edmond, skeptical, let out a derisive snort.

"I misspoke," William said, glancing at Banchina and Usopp before patting Edmond on the shoulder. Smiling at Yasopp, he added, "You're not afraid of danger; you just have something more important to protect. I understand. Let's not talk about this anymore."

True to his word, William didn't bring up the invitation again. Even when Dampier "took the liberty" of inviting Yasopp to work at his weapons company—only to help with data collection, not as a pirate—William quickly changed the subject.

Despite the simple food and the cheap, homemade alcohol, the dinner was lively and enjoyable. William animatedly recounted tales of the sea to young Usopp, describing the strange phenomena of the Calm Belt, the primitive tribes on isolated islands, the enslaved workers of the Bridge Kingdom, and how the Morgan Pirates had saved village after village from marauding pirates.

Usopp was enthralled, refusing to go to bed even when Banchina tried to coax him. He clung to William, loudly declaring his desire to join the Morgan Pirates and protect the people of the East Blue.

"Now that's the spirit! That's how a man should be," William said with a hearty laugh, lifting Usopp onto his lap. "When you grow up and become as remarkable as your father, I'll personally invite you to join my crew."

"Promise?" Usopp, though young, was sharp enough to doubt whether William was just humoring him. He looked at William with skeptical eyes.

"I never joke about inviting people to my crew," William replied seriously. "But remember, I said you have to become as remarkable as your father first. Only then will I invite you aboard."

With that, William removed a silver necklace from around his neck—a gift from the mayor of a village he had once saved—and placed it around Usopp's neck. "When you've become a man, bring this necklace to me. I'll keep my word."

Banchina hesitated, as if wanting to say something, while Yasopp spoke up directly: "That necklace seems too valuable. Besides, Usopp is just a child. You don't have to take this so seriously."

Usopp glared at his father, and William chuckled, playfully tweaking Usopp's nose. "So what if he's a child? Even children can have big dreams."

In the end, Banchina had to drag a reluctant Usopp off to bed. With the boy gone, the remaining men—primarily William and Yasopp—chatted for a while longer. It wasn't until Edmond began yawning that William decided it was time to leave, despite Yasopp's efforts to get them to stay.

After Yasopp had declined William's invitation, William never brought it up again. As they prepared to leave, Yasopp half-expected William to make one last attempt to recruit him. But William stayed true to his word, merely saying he'd visit again for a drink sometime. He didn't mention the invitation again, leaving Yasopp feeling both relieved and a little disappointed.

William, however, knew that Yasopp wasn't someone content with an ordinary life. The longing on Yasopp's face as he listened to tales of the sea was unmistakable. The only thing holding him back was his family. It was clear that Yasopp and Banchina were deeply in love.

Though the Morgan Pirates were currently based in the East Blue, life at sea was unpredictable. Pirate voyages were especially erratic. Yasopp couldn't bring himself to leave his family behind, forcing Banchina to shoulder the burden of raising their young son alone.

Yasopp stood at his doorstep, watching William and his crew disappear into the distance. He remained there, motionless, for a long time.

He had wanted to say yes to William.

Eight years ago, Shanks had come to him, drawn by his reputation, and invited him to join the Red-Haired Pirates. Yasopp had refused back then because he couldn't bear to leave Banchina behind. At the very least, he had wanted them to have a child, so she wouldn't feel lonely after he was gone.

But after Usopp was born, Yasopp couldn't bring himself to leave either. The thought of abandoning his son and leaving Banchina to raise him alone was too cruel.

Family bound Yasopp to this remote village—a place so insignificant that even pirates ignored it. The ties were so tight that they sometimes left Yasopp feeling suffocated. There were moments when he wanted to throw it all away, to leave without looking back. But then he would think about young Usopp growing up without a father's guidance or about Banchina struggling to keep the household running, and he couldn't bring himself to do it.

With a heavy sigh, Yasopp finally turned back toward the house, only to find Banchina standing in the living room, holding a cup of warm tea to sober him up. She looked at him with a gentle smile.

Chapter 107

One Piece: The True Codex      Chapter 107: Banchina

After that evening, William left Syrup Village.

For days, Yasopp heard nothing of him, and this silence left him feeling somewhat disappointed.

It wasn't until a week later that Yasopp received a package sent on William's behalf. It was a finely crafted wooden box, its luxurious design alone hinting at its value. The village courier, visibly envious, seemed tempted to keep the gift for himself but dared not, knowing the reputation of the sender.

The courier opened the package in Yasopp's presence, revealing two brand-new revolvers with ivory grips and gleaming silver finishes, along with two rows of golden bullets.

Men often have a special affinity for weapons, perhaps stemming from an instinctive admiration for power. These revolvers, with their exquisite craftsmanship, carried a unique aesthetic appeal in the eyes of Yasopp and the courier. The ivory grips and the ornate wooden box further emphasized their value.

Yasopp, both surprised and delighted, dismissed the courier—whose eyes lingered on the revolvers—and brought the box into his home, placing it on the living room table. Sitting down, he began to carefully examine the two revolvers.

These revolvers were vastly different from the experimental models used in the shooting competition. In addition to the precious ivory grips adorned with anti-slip patterns, the polished silver surface of the guns shimmered brilliantly. On the sleek barrel, a small engraving caught Yasopp's eye as he picked up one of the revolvers and squinted at the inscription.

《One Piece：The True Codex》M1508.SA

He then looked at the second revolver, which bore a slightly different inscription: M1508.DA.

The other side of the barrels displayed identical caliber markings.

The "M1508" referred to the model, named according to William's habits from his previous life. "M" stood for Morgan, while "1508" denoted the year of production. "SA" and "DA" represented the two distinct mechanisms of the revolvers.

Single-action (SA) revolvers require the hammer to be manually cocked before pulling the trigger. The hammer's movement rotates the cylinder, aligning the next chamber with the barrel. Once the hammer is locked in place, pulling the trigger releases it, firing the bullet. The trigger's sole function is to release the hammer.

Double-action (DA) revolvers, on the other hand, simplify operation. The trigger's motion is divided into two stages: the first rotates the cylinder and cocks the hammer, while the second releases the hammer and fires the bullet. Unlike single-action revolvers, double-action models don't require the hammer to be manually cocked beforehand.

William had learned these distinctions through conversations with Dampier, the head of weapons research. In his previous life, early revolvers were primarily single-action, but Dampier had initially developed a double-action mechanism.

When William tested the new weapon, he found it impossible to replicate the rapid-fire techniques of old Western movies, where cowboys would pull the trigger with one hand while fanning the hammer with the other. This led him to request Dampier to create a more "traditional" single-action model, resulting in the M1508.SA revolver.

While double-action revolvers were easier to use, their longer trigger pull and increased force requirement often affected shooting accuracy. They couldn't match the precision and rapid-fire capabilities of single-action revolvers in the hands of skilled marksmen like Yasopp.

The two revolvers, their development process, and detailed explanations of their mechanisms were all described in a lengthy letter written by William himself. Yasopp, reading this somewhat "rambling" letter, couldn't help but feel moved.

The bullets used by these revolvers were different from those available on the market. At the end of the letter, William assured Yasopp that he could write to him anytime for more ammunition, and William would ensure it was delivered.

Holding the revolver in one hand and the letter in the other, Yasopp sighed deeply and set the letter down on the table.

Just then, Banchina returned home from grocery shopping. Hearing Yasopp's sigh, she placed the basket on the balcony and quietly walked up behind him, gently massaging his shoulders.

"What's troubling you?" Banchina asked softly.

"The gift is too extravagant," Yasopp replied, his gaze fixed on the revolver in his hand. "And the sentiment behind it is too heavy."

Yasopp smiled bitterly, leaning his head against Banchina's shoulder. "Why does this rising hero of the East Blue think so highly of me?"

William's gift had been delivered publicly, with the package handed to Yasopp by a local courier. There was no way Yasopp could use the revolvers discreetly; sooner or later, everyone in the village would know about William's generosity toward him.

For others, accepting such a gift might be easy—they could simply take it and carry on with their lives. But Yasopp, a man of exceptional talent and pride, was like the wandering knights of the Sengoku era. He valued honor and promises, unable to bear being accused of shameless opportunism.

"What's so strange about that?" Banchina said, displeased by Yasopp's self-deprecation. She patted his shoulder lightly and added with pride, "No matter how much he values you, you're worth it."

Yasopp chuckled bitterly. He considered himself lucky to have married such a wise and virtuous woman. Deep down, he knew Banchina's love for him far exceeded his love for her.

In the original story, Yasopp left his hometown, abandoning his family to Banchina's care. Usopp grew up without a father yet still admired Yasopp wholeheartedly, thanks in part to Banchina's upbringing. Even on her deathbed, Banchina told Usopp she was proud of Yasopp.

Banchina idolized her husband, even though Yasopp was currently just a farmer with a reputation for marksmanship. Most of his days were spent sitting under a tree by the island's edge, staring out at the sea.

But Banchina firmly believed Yasopp was an extraordinary man. If he could set sail and find a stage, he would undoubtedly become a legendary hero of the seas.

"I'm planning to return the gift," Yasopp said after a moment of hesitation, pushing the box away as if to solidify his resolve.

"Why?" Banchina asked, puzzled. She knew better than anyone how much Yasopp loved firearms.

"If I accept his revolvers, how could I refuse his invitation?" Yasopp murmured.

Banchina bit her lip and tilted Yasopp's head back, staring into his eyes. "Do you truly not want to join his pirate crew?"

Yasopp's eyes shifted, avoiding her gaze. "Of course not."

"You're lying," Banchina said firmly, her voice tinged with anger. "You yearn for adventure, for battle, for a chance to showcase your talent. I know it all."

"So what? Everyone has dreams, but not all of them come true," Yasopp said, trying to deflect with a playful smile. "I already have a cute son and, more importantly, a beautiful, virtuous wife. If I'm not satisfied, I'll be punished by the heavens!"

Banchina silently watched Yasopp until his forced smile faded. Then she said, "I'm not your burden, and neither is Usopp. You shouldn't let us bind you to this home. My husband should be an extraordinary man, a warrior praised by all, a father who can regale Usopp with tales of his adventures."

"I know this ordinary life makes you miserable. But do you realize how much it pains me to see you like this every day?"

"The Morgan Pirates target other pirates. Not all of them are honorable; some are downright cruel," Yasopp said, his tone unusually serious. "If they seek revenge, I fear for you and Usopp's safety."

"Are the other members of the Morgan Pirates afraid?" Banchina asked, her words deliberate and resolute. "My husband is destined to be a hero. I may not be able to be a hero myself, but can't I be the wife of one? And Usopp, can't he be the son of a hero?"

Yasopp stared quietly at Banchina, who met his gaze unwaveringly.

After a moment, Yasopp suddenly smiled, and Banchina, infected by his warmth, smiled back.

Yasopp's hand returned to the wooden box, pulling it back toward him.

Chapter 108

Chapter 108: Red-Haired

Year 1509 of the Sea Calendar.

《One Piece：The True Codex》East Blue, Foosha Village.

Shanks and his Red-Haired Pirates had arrived in the village half a month ago, causing quite a stir upon their landing. Despite Shanks repeatedly assuring the villagers and Mayor Woops Slap that they meant no harm and were merely stopping for rest and supplies, the locals remained wary. It wasn't until two weeks passed, during which the pirates refrained from any malicious behavior and even displayed an unusually friendly demeanor, that the villagers began to lower their guard. However, a lingering sense of distrust, especially among people like Woops Slap, still persisted.

Inside the village tavern, the air was filled with laughter and cheer. Members of the Red-Haired Pirates were either engaged in drinking contests or fighting over food. Meanwhile, their captain, "Red-Haired" Shanks, sat at the bar, smiling as he watched his crew's antics.

This man, who had once lived and fought aboard the Pirate King's ship, exuded none of the imposing aura one might expect from a famed pirate captain. He wore a slightly tattered straw hat, with strands of red hair, greasy from neglect, peeking out from beneath its brim. His white shirt had yellowed with age, and his pants were casually rolled up to reveal hairy calves.

Paired with the dirt-covered sandals on his feet, Shanks looked more like a farmer than the captain of a notorious pirate crew. Even the three scars across his left eye failed to give him an intimidating presence.

As Shanks watched his crew's rowdy behavior, he would occasionally burst into laughter, his eyes narrowing and his mouth opening wide to reveal a set of enviably white teeth. His unassuming demeanor and genuine laughter made it hard for anyone not to feel a sense of goodwill toward him.

At one point, a crew member accidentally knocked a plate of steak to the floor, the ceramic shattering with a loud crash.

Hearing the noise, the tavern owner, Makino, peeked out from behind the bar. Shanks, leaning against the counter, immediately put on an apologetic expression. "Sorry about that. We'll pay for it," he said with a sheepish grin.

Makino, a young woman with a gentle demeanor, was taken aback by Shanks' straightforward and sincere apology. "It's just a plate," she replied softly. "It's been used for years anyway. No need to pay."

"Oh no, that won't do," Shanks said, shaking his head. He then turned to a small boy, no older than five or six, sitting nearby. With a playful smirk, he teased, "I'm a pirate, you know. I won't shortchange anyone, not even a single Berry. I'm not like certain people who just run up tabs."

"Luffy, I'm talking about you!" Shanks said, leaning closer to the boy. "How could you not realize that?"

The boy, Monkey D. Luffy, finally caught on and glared at Shanks. However, his youthful face, no matter how hard he tried to look fierce, only succeeded in being amusing rather than intimidating.

"You're really different from other pirates," Makino said with a smile as she watched Shanks tease Luffy. "I've never seen a pirate captain like you before."

"Is there a standard image for pirate captains?" Shanks asked, adjusting his straw hat. "Pirates pursue freedom. Living the way others expect you to sounds exhausting."

"I just mean that you're not like the other pirates—vicious and cruel. You're actually quite kind," Makino said. "You're unique among pirates, kind of like the Morgan Pirates in the East Blue."

"Hmph!" Mayor Woops Slap, who had been eavesdropping nearby, let out a disapproving snort and tapped his cane against the floor.

"The Morgan Pirates?" Shanks' curiosity was piqued at the mention of another pirate crew. Turning his attention away from Luffy, he asked, "What's so unique about them? Tell me more."

Luffy, equally intrigued, leaned in closer.

Makino tapped her chin playfully, trying to recall what she had heard. "I heard about them when I was restocking supplies for the tavern. Apparently, near the Navia Kingdom, there's this pirate crew called the Morgan Pirates. They never harm civilians and even go out of their way to help villages affected by disasters. They only target other pirates who commit atrocities..."

As Makino spoke, she realized that while Shanks and his crew weren't exactly villains, they still fell under the category of "other pirates." Feeling that her words might be inappropriate, she quickly stopped herself.

But Shanks showed no sign of offense. Instead, he looked genuinely excited. "From what you've said, this crew sounds amazing. I wonder what their captain is like. I'd love to meet him—maybe even invite him to join my crew!"

Still annoyed by Shanks' earlier teasing, Luffy stubbornly countered, "That's nothing special! The most amazing pirates are the ones who go on all kinds of adventures!"

Makino lightly tapped Luffy on the head. "How can adventure compare to fighting to protect the weak?"

Unable to tolerate the conversation any longer, Woops Slap stepped forward and said, "All of this might just be a bunch of lies made up by irresponsible storytellers! There's no such thing as pirates who willingly help civilians. They're not the Marines! Stop filling Luffy's head with these fantasies. What if he starts believing these lies?"

Meanwhile, in Maple Village, the very captain Shanks had mentioned—William—was seated at a banquet, casually reading the latest issue of the World Economy News.

Joining him at the table were Sherlock, the local head of the Four Seas Trading Company, his bodyguard Edmond, and several key members of the Morgan Pirates, including Hatcheson, Kuro, Selkirk, Yasopp, Diego, and Aramis.

The headline of this issue featured the captain of the Kuja Pirates, the infamous "Empress" Boa Hancock, who had been invited by the World Government to become one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

Leaning against William's shoulder, Edmond glanced at the photo of Hancock printed in the paper and remarked with a hint of chauvinism, "Is the Grand Line running out of talent? They're letting a delicate woman like her become a Warlord?"

Sherlock, holding an identical copy of the newspaper, unfolded it and pointed to the text beneath Hancock's photo. "This 'delicate woman' has a bounty of 80 million Beli—more than four times Barbarossa's bounty. She's no ordinary pirate."

"That just proves the Grand Line is running out of capable people," Edmond retorted stubbornly. "A woman like her getting an 80-million bounty? The World Government must be blind. They should've invited William to become a Warlord instead."

"Why would anyone want to be a lapdog for the World Government?" Hatcheson chimed in disapprovingly.

Chapter 109

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 109: The Seven Warlords of the Sea

"Why would anyone want to be a lapdog for the World Government?" Hatcheson said with a look of disapproval.

Edmond glared at him, but Hatcheson remained unfazed.

As William's influence grew, the main heads of various departments under his command met less frequently, unlike the close-knit group they once were. Edmond belonged to the Four Seas Trading Company, while Hatcheson was part of the Morgan Pirates. Although the Morgan Pirates held some shares in the Four Seas Trading Company, William was the sole representative of these shares. As a result, Hatcheson and Edmond hadn't met often over the past year, and naturally, there wasn't much camaraderie between them. Hatcheson, being straightforward, didn't care about saving face for his colleagues and would voice his dissatisfaction directly.

However, Hatcheson's lack of social tact didn't mean others on the ship were oblivious.

The cadres of the Morgan Pirates enjoyed dividends from the trading company. As the business of the Four Seas Trading Company prospered, the money distributed to the pirates increased steadily. While it might not match the immediate profits from looting, it was stable and reliable. The saying goes, "A silver stream is better than a silver mountain," and within just a year, the bright financial prospects were evident. William's initial goal was partly achieved—binding the pirate cadres to this interest. People like Kuro, who were shrewd, didn't want to strain relations with the trading company in the current situation.

Kuro deliberately ignored Hatcheson's words and mediated, explaining to Edmond, "According to the newspaper, the World Government established the Seven Warlords of the Sea because of their influence. William is still relatively unknown in the East Blue. The higher-ups in the World Government probably haven't even heard of him, so how could they invite him?"

Time is a wonderful thing; it fades old memories and strengthens new ones. The smuggling incident was over a year ago, and Arcadio and Roy had almost completely forgotten the small players they had "crushed" at the time. They certainly didn't remember names like William's. After all, their main focus wasn't on William and his group. If the masterminds were so indifferent, what could be expected of the "accomplices" who knew even less?

On the pirate ship, the number of old-timers from Barbarossa's era was dwindling. Over the year, through a mix of rewards and intimidation, William had thoroughly taken control of the ship. He had even reverted to using his real name on the ship, keeping Stolt as a middle name for the crew's comfort, though people usually called him William. The crew found it odd, but as he was the captain, they wouldn't, and didn't dare, argue over his name.

As for Kuro, originally under Count Arcadio, William wasn't worried about him. Their shared experience in eliminating Barbarossa had brought him closer to William psychologically. During this process, Kuro personally witnessed William's ruthless cunning, which differed from the indirect pressure exerted by Arcadio's high status.

William methodically eliminated enemies from the Red-Beard Pirates, including Hayreddin, Reis, Barbarossa, and even Felton. Few on the ship understood the process better than Kuro. This created a different kind of pressure from William—a direct threat to life.

Simply put, Arcadio made Kuro fear him because of the power to ruin his reputation. In contrast, William's current influence made Kuro feel that angering him would directly threaten his life.

Moreover, William was now the leader of a major pirate crew and the owner of a promising trading company. Even without considering William's own combat prowess, his influence wasn't much less than Arcadio's.

On one hand, Arcadio had long underutilized Kuro, treating him as a dispensable pawn, indifferent to his desires, offering neither material nor spiritual satisfaction. On the other hand, William valued his talents, made him a key officer on the ship, and granted him shares in the trading company, providing both status and tangible benefits. Naturally, Kuro's loyalty lay with William.

In fact, during the Barbarossa incident, Kuro had already deceived Arcadio. Having done it once, betraying Arcadio and continuing to deceive him for William was a natural progression.

"Then we should do something big to get the government's attention," Edmond muttered. "It's a shame we have some fame in the East Blue, yet the captain doesn't even have a bounty..."

Sitting next to him, William frowned at this comment, rolled up the newspaper, and tapped Edmond on the head. "If you're idle, head to Frost Moon Village immediately. I'm going to the Isshin Dojo tomorrow, and others will be there too. You should go ahead and arrange accommodations."

"I'm not going," Edmond said, slumping onto the table, gripping its edge as if afraid William would have him dragged away.

Aramis, who had overheard William's thoughts on the ship's bow that day, glanced at him, noticing the deliberate change of topic, then looked away.

William noticed Aramis's movement but didn't mind.

The World Government and Marines focused their attention on the Grand Line, dealing with the influx of promising new pirates aiming for One Piece. They even established the "Seven Warlords of the Sea" system.

The greatest advantage of privateering licenses is that the government doesn't need to spend significant resources, funds, and time training Marines. They can immediately gain ready-made power. Someone as astute as William quickly grasped the underlying meaning: the current shortage of Marine forces.

Considering the weakening Marine presence in the East Blue, William's current strategic plan could be summed up in twelve words:

"Strengthen foundations, recruit talent, delay claiming kingship."

The World Government couldn't fully control the East Blue, especially the kingdoms and the villages and towns beneath them. Yet this sea held vast human and material resources, making it an ideal place to establish roots. Before this, William didn't want to attract the World Government's attention.

William wouldn't rashly head to the Grand Line like Selkirk or other new pirates without strategic planning.

The Grand Line, a pirate graveyard teeming with strong figures, was a place William certainly intended to go. However, he wouldn't blindly rush in unprepared. He needed a stable rear to sustain him.

The Grand Line saw countless pirates from the Four Seas enter with high hopes each year, only to flee like beaten dogs.

William didn't want to become such a laughingstock. When he entered the Grand Line, it would be with the assurance that he could establish a foothold there, never to be driven out in disgrace!

(Extra chapter for Sanjiang, and confirmation on Yasopp, the Empress, and the Seven Warlords. Specific time and reference have been posted in the related works section. Your reckless plot speculations have nearly run my legs off.)

Chapter 110

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 110: Zoro

While William hosted a banquet for his ship's officers in Maple Village, a small ripple of disturbance arose in the Isshin Dojo of Shimotsuki Village.

Two years ago, Oliver, who had once saved Edmond's life during the Red-Beard Pirates' raid, had been studying swordsmanship at the dojo. Ambitious and eager to stand out, Oliver trained diligently. Thanks to his connection with Edmond, who occasionally visited Shimotsuki Village to give him private lessons, and his own decent talent, Oliver's progress had been rapid. While he was still far from matching William's legendary prowess, he was considered outstanding among his peers.

Edmond's personal guidance, combined with William's direct order to place Oliver in the dojo, gave Oliver a somewhat unique status.

Edmond himself had always been an oddity in the dojo. However, after joining William's crew, the term "oddity" had taken on a more positive connotation, becoming "independent thinker." His swordsmanship talent and solid skills made him one of the dojo's prominent figures, despite his often unrealistic ideas.

As for William, he was already a legend in the dojo. In less than two years, he had become unbeatable, save for Koushirou, the dojo master. With Gin, Aramis, Vallon, Edmond, and others in his entourage, and a thriving business in the neighboring Maple Village, William had even become the captain of his own pirate crew.

William's story had become a myth in the Isshin Dojo. Even though he had left nearly a year ago, the students still spoke of him with awe.

Naturally, Oliver, through his connection to William and Edmond, became a focal point among his peers in the dojo.

Did Oliver enjoy this status?

Of course. He had risked his life to escort Edmond back to Maple Village and refused monetary rewards precisely to earn such a position. He wanted to leave behind the life of a poor fisherman's son, constantly looked down upon and eyed suspiciously by shopkeepers as if he were a thief. Now, he was surrounded by admiration and envy.

But all of this was disrupted by the arrival of a child.

Roronoa Zoro, a boy who, in Oliver's eyes, had seaweed-like hair and a seaweed-filled brain to match.

Zoro's entrance into the dojo was comical. He had declared that he was here to challenge the dojo, but anyone with even a basic understanding of swordsmanship could see he had no training whatsoever.

Koushirou, likely wanting to avoid accusations of bullying a child, had Kuina, a girl of Zoro's age, step forward to teach him a lesson.

Afterward, this shameless child stayed at the dojo, becoming a thorn in Oliver's side.

Oliver hadn't trained alongside William, so he had only heard secondhand accounts of William's terrifying progress, relentless dedication, and extraordinary comprehension. But now, he was witnessing firsthand what it meant to be a genius.

Zoro, the boy who had made such a ridiculous first impression, was like a sponge, hungrily absorbing every bit of swordsmanship knowledge. It was as if all other talents had been stripped from him and concentrated solely on swordsmanship. Most astonishing was his resilience. Despite his young age, he displayed a determination far surpassing that of many adults.

Though Oliver didn't want to admit it, he knew deep down that Zoro's stubbornness and single-mindedness, while often making him appear foolish, were traits that would help him endure the grueling path of a swordsman.

With his incredible talent and unyielding determination, Zoro surpassed many of the dojo's older students, some of whom had been training for years, within less than a year of joining. This included Oliver. Almost everyone marveled at Zoro's talent, calling him the second coming of William—though only in terms of swordsmanship, as Zoro lacked the charisma and leadership William had shown among his peers.

But among those who admired Zoro's talent, Oliver was certainly not one of them. His view of Zoro was colored by frustration and jealousy—frustration at the shift in attention and jealousy of Zoro's natural ability.

Oliver secretly ostracized Zoro, trying to conceal his actions. However, his youth betrayed him, and his hostility was evident to many, including Kuina. Though Kuina didn't particularly like the clumsy Zoro, her sense of justice compelled her to report Oliver's behavior to Koushirou.

Koushirou, however, seemed indifferent. With his usual calm demeanor, he reassured Kuina, "Don't worry about Oliver and Zoro."

Kuina hesitated. "But…"

"William will be coming soon," Koushirou said gently, understanding her concern. "He might take Oliver with him this time. I'll also discuss Oliver's situation with him."

"William is coming?" Kuina's concern for Zoro was immediately replaced by excitement. She eagerly asked, "When? How long will he stay? Is Gin coming too? Will they stay at the dojo for a few days?"

"I know you're looking forward to seeing him," Koushirou said with a wry smile, trying to calm his now-animated daughter. "But aside from the fact that he's coming, I don't know anything else. You can ask him yourself when he arrives. It's been a while since you've seen him."

Kuina raised her voice, "Who's looking forward to seeing him? I just want to spar with him again to see how much I've improved—and whether his swordsmanship has declined!"

...

Two days later, William arrived at Shimotsuki Village from Maple Village. Accompanying him were Aramis, Edmond, and several officers of the Morgan Pirates.

With their distinct styles, the officers made quite an impression: Yasopp was laid-back, Hatcheson was fierce, Selkirk was imposing, Kuro was refined, and Diego was robust. Surrounding William like stars orbiting a moon, they approached the courtyard gates of the Isshin Dojo. Their presence left a young boy guarding the gate, who had recently joined the dojo and didn't recognize William, utterly dumbfounded. The boy froze, unsure of how to respond, and only after William and his group drew closer did he panic and dash into the dojo.

Seeing the boy's reaction from afar, William paid it no mind. He casually led his curious officers into the dojo courtyard, moving as if he were the master of the place.

Chapter 111

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 111: Trouble at the Dojo

"Master Koushirou! Something terrible has happened! Someone is attacking!" A boy came running into the training hall of the Isshin Dojo, stumbling and almost falling over himself.

The students and instructors in the dojo stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the panicked boy.

"What's the matter? Why are you so flustered?" Pattinson, who was standing beside Koushirou and instructing students, scolded the boy sternly. "Calm down and explain clearly."

"A group of people is heading toward the dojo!"

"That's it?" Pattinson raised an eyebrow.

"They're carrying swords and guns," the boy said, panting heavily.

At this point, Koushirou spoke gently, "The world is chaotic these days. Carrying weapons is normal. Even if they're coming to the dojo, there's no need to be so scared."

The boy, feeling a bit wronged, muttered, "But they don't look like good people."

If someone as hot-tempered as Hatcheson had been present, he might have strung the boy up for saying such a thing.

Koushirou chuckled softly. Seeing that Pattinson was about to scold the boy again, he said, "Let's go out and take a look first."

Meanwhile, William was leading his group toward the training hall. Yasopp glanced curiously at the courtyard's layout and asked, "So this is where you learned swordsmanship? The environment is pretty nice."

Aramis sighed nostalgically, "Every corner here is soaked with our blood and tears."

"Don't exaggerate," Edmond said, rolling his eyes at Aramis. He turned to Yasopp and added, "He only says that because he was the laziest one back then."

As they joked and laughed, they arrived at the front of the training hall just as Koushirou and Pattinson stepped out, followed by a group of curious students.

When Koushirou and Pattinson saw the familiar faces of William, Aramis, and Edmond, they realized it was all a misunderstanding.

Koushirou greeted them warmly, while Pattinson initially looked displeased at William for casually leading people into the courtyard. Then, he turned around and glared harshly at the boy who had reported the situation inaccurately.

The boy, hiding in the crowd, shrank his neck, looking a bit sheepish. He turned to an older student next to him and asked, "Who are these people?"

"It's William!" The older student's eyes lit up with excitement, his face brimming with admiration like a fan meeting their idol. "He's a swordsmanship genius, a legend of the dojo! You should've seen how amazing he was back in the day. Edmond, Aramis, Vallon, and Gin were always following him around and listening to his every word. Later, he even started a business in the neighboring village..."

The older student went on and on, but the boy wasn't paying much attention. He scratched his ear and interrupted, "A swordsmanship genius? Like Zoro?"

"Zoro? That idiot is nowhere near his level," the older student scoffed. Zoro's terrible sense of direction was as infamous as his swordsmanship talent, and by now, everyone in the dojo knew never to let Zoro go out alone. "William is also a great pirate captain, with a crew of hundreds under his command!"

The boy's mouth formed an "O" shape in astonishment. Then, he asked curiously, "You're at the dojo every day, just like me. How do you know so much?"

"I heard it all from Oliver."

...

Koushirou's smile was more genuine than usual when he saw William. After exchanging pleasantries, William briefly introduced the crew members behind him.

Koushirou maintained his usual gentle demeanor, entirely unassuming. Yet even fearsome individuals like Hatcheson and Diego greeted him respectfully. They might not fear Koushirou directly, but they certainly feared William. Whether Koushirou was hiding his true strength or not, none of them dared show any disrespect.

The group headed toward the back of the courtyard. Koushirou told the students they could take a break, but the curious children and teenagers trailed behind, their eyes glued to the strangers with their distinct and varied auras.

Some of the boys couldn't take their eyes off the two gleaming silver revolvers hanging from Yasopp's belt. The way the sunlight reflected off the guns seemed almost hypnotic to them.

Noticing their stares, Yasopp grinned, flicked open the holster's buckle with his thumb, and smoothly drew one of the revolvers. He spun it around his finger twice before deftly returning it to its holster. The boys' eyes sparkled with awe.

Hearing the commotion, Koushirou glanced back. His gaze lingered on Yasopp's modern weapon, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. William noticed and smiled. "That's just Yasopp's personality, teacher. Don't mind him."

Koushirou shook his head with a smile. His interest was in the gun, not Yasopp's antics.

"William!"

As they passed the training hall, Kuina stood at the entrance. William noticed she had grown taller since their last meeting. With her hands clasped behind her back, she stood with her feet apart, a shy smile on her face as she looked at him.

William strode over to her. He had grown even faster than Kuina, and she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

In the crowd of dojo students, Zoro watched the usually tough and boyish Kuina act like a demure little girl in front of William. He was thunderstruck. He wanted nothing more than to rush up to the man he didn't recognize, grab him by the collar, and shout, "Don't be fooled by her! This girl humiliates me every time she beats me. She's nothing like how she's pretending to be now!"

With a strange expression, Zoro asked his companion who William was. His companion, another new student around his age, didn't know either.

At that moment, the boy who had "cried wolf" earlier approached. Perhaps it was a case of like attracting like, but he and Zoro got along well and were considered friends. Hearing Zoro's question, the boy eagerly repeated the information he had just learned.

"I heard this guy was really famous at the dojo. Before you came, he was the fastest-progressing genius. Now he's the owner of a trading company and a great pirate. People in the dojo say you might become the next William. That 'William' is him." The boy, not wanting to hurt Zoro's pride, tactfully left out some details.

But Zoro wasn't pleased. "I'm not the second William. I'm just Zoro."

The boy pouted and decided to be honest. "Of course you're not the second William. He's not just good at swordsmanship; he's smart too!"

Zoro nodded at first, then realized the boy's words weren't exactly flattering. He glared at his friend in annoyance.

When they reached the back courtyard, where Koushirou's private quarters were located, the students finally dispersed. William instructed Aramis and Edmond to show the pirate officers around while he and Koushirou went inside to talk privately.

Kuina wanted to join them, but Pattinson stopped her. After some persuasion, she reluctantly left.

Chapter 112

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 112: Embracing Diversity

William and Koushirou entered the room. After Koushirou personally brewed a cup of tea for William, he brought up the matter of Oliver.

William's broad hand gently rubbed the surface of the teacup. When he heard Koushirou mention that Oliver had been ostracizing a younger boy at the dojo out of jealousy, he sighed, "The human heart... such a complicated thing."

Koushirou silently blew on the steam rising from his tea. After a moment, seeing that William had no further reaction, he asked, "You still plan to take him in?"

William nodded. He was a man determined to reach the pinnacle, and such ambition required a heart big enough to accommodate people of all kinds, even those with differing or flawed personalities. Koushirou's words served as a reminder to be mindful of Oliver's narrow-minded tendencies when assigning him roles in the future. However, William wasn't the type to shy away from using someone just because of a single flaw.

"Finding a group of like-minded companions is merely luck. But bringing together a group of people with differing personalities and uniting them—that's true skill," William said calmly.

Koushirou's hand paused for a moment before he naturally resumed sipping his tea.

The two chatted idly for a while longer. Koushirou asked about William's recent activities and showed particular curiosity about the modern revolvers that Yasopp carried, asking many questions about them.

William, however, maintained his composure, only answering selectively and avoiding any crucial details. As dusk fell, he bid Koushirou farewell and left.

After William departed, Pattinson entered the room to find Koushirou sitting in the dimly lit space, not even bothering to light a lamp, lost in thought.

Pattinson lit the lamp, sat across from Koushirou, and asked, "Did you bring up the Revolutionary Army with William?"

"No," Koushirou shook his head. "Acting on impulse... Seeing the current William, I don't even dare to bring up the Revolutionary Army."

Pattinson frowned, reflecting on William's behavior since arriving at the dojo. At best, one could describe him as confident and magnanimous, but at worst, he seemed domineering and self-centered. This could partly be attributed to him relaxing after returning to the dojo, but it was undoubtedly also influenced by over a year of being a pirate captain, commanding lives, and making decisions with absolute authority.

"William has always been someone with his own strong ideas and not easily swayed," Koushirou continued. "Now that he's a pirate captain, controlling a sizable trading company and weapons business, he's even less likely to be persuaded by anyone."

"And from what William said earlier, I can tell he's not someone who would willingly serve under others," Koushirou sighed. "Even if we managed to pull him into the Revolutionary Army, it might not necessarily be a good thing for the Army. The World Government's scrutiny of us is increasing. In these difficult times, it's best not to stir up further trouble."

"What about purchasing those new weapons...?" Pattinson hesitated.

Koushirou slowly but firmly shook his head. "This student of mine… very few people can easily decipher his thoughts. I can't guarantee what his attitude toward the Revolutionary Army would be or what actions he might take after weighing the pros and cons. It's better not to let him notice anything, lest he trace things back to us and uncover our secrets."

"And what about others?"

"Who do you mean?"

"For example, Zoro. His talent is exceptional. Given time, he'll undoubtedly become an extraordinary swordsman."

Hearing Pattinson mention Zoro, a faint smile appeared on Koushirou's face. "Not Zoro. His… personality isn't suited for the Revolutionary Army."

Pattinson sighed. He understood the underlying meaning in Koushirou's words: William was too cunning, while Zoro was too straightforward.

...

The next day at noon, in the courtyard of the Isshin Dojo, William observed the students practicing swordsmanship. His gaze swept across them before settling on a green-haired boy.

"Is that the Zoro you mentioned?" William asked Koushirou, who stood beside him.

Swordsmanship training was an arduous test of willpower. Although this world allowed for individuals to achieve extraordinary physical feats compared to William's previous life, that didn't make the process of building strength any easier.

On the contrary, the increased intensity of repetitive training made it even more grueling and monotonous.

Despite his small frame, Zoro seemed to possess boundless energy. He swung his bamboo sword tirelessly, gritting his teeth to maintain proper form and resisting the natural human inclination to slack off.

In contrast, the children training alongside Zoro, worn out and giving in to laziness, had long since let their forms deteriorate. William and Koushirou both shook their heads at the sight—such sloppy practice not only wasted effort but also risked developing bad habits.

Koushirou instructed Pattinson to go correct the other children's stances before turning back to William. "Yes, that's Zoro. He's been here for less than half a year. When he first arrived, he knew almost nothing, but now he's starting to show some real promise."

"Not bad," William remarked after watching Zoro for a while.

William had been able to train so diligently in the past because he possessed the soul of an adult, with a high level of self-discipline. Zoro, on the other hand, had no such advantage and was much younger than William had been at the time. This natural resilience and determination impressed William greatly.

"Zoro is exceptionally talented, but he's also very single-minded," Koushirou said with a hint of exasperation. "Other than swordsmanship and getting stronger, he's not interested in anything else."

William glanced at Koushirou, unsure if this was a genuine lament or a subtle attempt to dissuade him from any thoughts of recruiting Zoro in the future.

William respected Koushirou's character and was grateful for his guidance. However, he was also aware that the ever-smiling, seemingly kind-hearted Koushirou wasn't as simple as he appeared.

When William first started learning swordsmanship, he had done some investigating and discovered that Koushirou and the Isshin Dojo harbored secrets. Over time, through his experiences at the dojo and occasional reports from Sherlock, who managed the trading company in the neighboring village, William became increasingly certain that his teacher was no ordinary man.

Just as Koushirou couldn't fully understand or predict William's thoughts, William found it equally difficult to see through Koushirou's ever-smiling exterior.

As they conversed, the two strolled among the students and happened to approach Kuina, who was training alongside them.

Noticing their arrival out of the corner of her eye, Kuina momentarily lost focus and made a mistake in her movements. William offered her some pointers and, seeing her drenched in sweat from training, naturally pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, crouched down, and wiped her face. Kuina's face instantly turned bright red.

From a distance, Edmond, Aramis, Yasopp, and several other pirate officers were gathered together, observing the scene and whispering among themselves.

"Something seems off about this," Yasopp said, stroking his chin.

"What do you mean?" Hatcheson asked, confused.

Yasopp pointed at Kuina, who, despite her short hair and boyish attire, appeared shy and demure in front of William. He then turned to Aramis and Edmond. "What's the deal between the captain and her? Childhood sweethearts?"

Nearby, Kuro, who was well aware of William's cunning, adjusted his glasses and quickly concocted a theory. "This dojo is so close to Maple Village, and William is so familiar with it. He could easily turn this place into a talent pool for us, providing a steady supply of recruits. That girl, Kuina, is the dojo master's daughter. If William were to marry her, he'd have the right to inherit the dojo. In that case..."

Before Kuro could finish, Edmond hurriedly interrupted, "Don't say such things! Kuina's situation is quite sad. Many people in the dojo know that Master Koushirou had hoped for a son to inherit the dojo. That's why Kuina trains so hard despite her young age. William knows about this too, and he's just looking out for her because he's older."

Kuro wasn't convinced. "Isn't that perfect, then? Koushirou wants a man to inherit the dojo."

Edmond waved him off, unwilling to continue the conversation. Meanwhile, Yasopp chimed in, "Hearing this, it's no wonder the girl likes William. What's that term again?"

Selkirk, who had been silent and stoic until now, suddenly spoke up:

"Electra complex."

The group fell silent, exchanging awkward glances before directing strange looks at Selkirk, who began to feel uneasy under their gazes.

After a long pause, Yasopp let out a dry laugh and explained, "I was thinking of 'lack of affection.' How did you come up with that term?"

"Exactly."

"Didn't expect you to be so wild inside, despite how quiet you usually are."

"People who've been to the Grand Line really do know more than us country bumpkins!"

The group burst into laughter, teasing and ribbing the embarrassed Selkirk.

Chapter 113

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 113: Cutting Iron

William had no idea what his subordinates were whispering about. In truth, his thoughts were far less complicated than Kuro and the others imagined. After offering some guidance to Kuina, he continued walking with Koushirou, and their conversation naturally shifted to the topic of swordsmanship.

William's primary reason for visiting the Isshin Dojo this time, aside from matters concerning Oliver, was because he had recently felt that his swordsmanship was on the verge of a breakthrough. He was beginning to touch upon the realm of swordsmen capable of cutting through iron as if it were mud.

The Plaza of Fate had granted William several proficiencies, which seemed to elevate his potential. [Lightning Reflexes] enhanced his body's reaction speed and coordination, while [Robust] improved his bone and muscle density, as well as his immune system.

In addition to these, William possessed two proficiencies closely tied to swordsmanship: the special proficiency [Zen Sword Arts] and the achievement proficiency [Sudden Enlightenment].

[Zen Sword Arts]: Your swordsmanship has begun to embody Zen principles. When wielding a sword, you can easily rid your mind of distractions, focus entirely, and fully unleash your swordsmanship skills.

[Sudden Enlightenment]: Through the guidance of a swordsmanship master, your understanding of sword principles has deepened. Your perspective on swordsmanship has significantly expanded, enabling you to learn sword techniques with half the effort.

With these two proficiencies, William's progress in swordsmanship could be described as advancing by leaps and bounds. [Zen Sword Arts] allowed him to effortlessly eliminate distractions during training, channeling all his energy into swordsmanship and ensuring maximum efficiency in his practice. Meanwhile, [Sudden Enlightenment] provided him with what could be called the "swordsman's mindset."

What is a swordsman's mindset? When someone devotes themselves wholeheartedly to a particular field, constantly thinking about it, their way of thinking inevitably changes. They begin to view and interpret the world through the lens of their expertise, often making connections across different areas.

For example, in his previous life, William had known a chef who had started learning the craft as a child and spent half his life immersed in it. The chef was so passionate about cooking that he could relate almost anything to his work in the kitchen, using cooking as a metaphor for other aspects of life.

William now found himself in a similar situation. With the proficiency [Sudden Enlightenment], combined with his training at the Isshin Dojo, he couldn't help but relate almost everything—whether it was sword practice, combat, or even daily life—to swordsmanship. These connections, whether made consciously or subconsciously, often sparked inspiration.

Currently, William's Steam-Steam Fruit, a Logia-type Devil Fruit, granted him two primary abilities. The first was the elemental transformation inherent to most Logia fruits, allowing him to turn his body into steam. The second was the ability to increase temperature and heat, which William jokingly referred to as "boiling water." This ability seemed to align with the "rules" of his fruit, enabling him to rapidly vaporize substances—a prerequisite for generating steam, much like how cold causes water to freeze into ice.

According to Gin, who had heard from Nezumi, the Marines had a Logia user at headquarters who had consumed the Ice-Ice Fruit, granting them the ability to transform into ice. William speculated that this individual's power might similarly stem from the conditions required for ice formation, allowing them to lower temperatures and freeze objects.

William didn't know if this so-called "monster," as Nezumi had described, faced any bottlenecks when lowering temperatures or what those limitations might be. What he did know was that he himself had already encountered a bottleneck.

His ability to increase temperature and heat was governed by the rules of his Devil Fruit, and its initial upper limit was tied to the boiling point of water at standard atmospheric pressure—100 degrees Celsius. This temperature, which produced vigorous steam, was in delicate balance with his body's initial control capabilities.

Beyond this point, attempting to raise the temperature further caused the "boiling water" to lose control, resulting in steam dissipating uncontrollably. The expanding gas would scatter in all directions, quickly releasing the heat William had painstakingly generated.

As a result, William could currently only maintain his steam at around 100 degrees Celsius. Moreover, the larger the area covered by the steam, the faster the heat loss. If he attempted to fill the entire dojo with steam, even if he could manage it, the temperature of the dispersed steam would likely be pitifully low.

Although William knew that the boiling point of water could be altered by pressure and that steam itself could reach much higher temperatures, he found it difficult to make further progress with his fruit's temperature-based abilities until he discovered a better way to prevent "leakage" and heat dissipation. Thus, his focus shifted away from temperature and toward exploring other applications of his powers.

For example, during the battle in Black Reef Town, he had experimented with using the force generated by the expansion of steam. Additionally, when his body was in its elemental steam form, he experienced a peculiar sense of perception that extended with the dispersal of the steam.

Although this perception weakened as the steam spread over a larger area, it remained an extraordinary sensation. After all, when he was in his elemental form, he perceived the world from the perspective of a gas.

Koushirou had once said that everything in the world breathes. If one could hear the "breath" of all things, they could cut through anything—or choose to cut through nothing.

During one private training session, a falling leaf drifted through a thin layer of steam formed by William's elemental body before gently landing on the ground. In that moment, a flash of inspiration struck William's mind.

For an instant, he seemed to perceive everything about the leaf—its interaction with the wind, gravity, inertia, and its own density. He truly "heard" the leaf's breath and realized that to achieve the state Koushirou had described, where one could cut through anything or nothing, one needed to harness the power of the leaf's breath and act in harmony with it.

It was reminiscent of the time Koushirou had performed his sword dance beneath the cherry blossom tree.

Back then, Koushirou had precisely grasped all the factors influencing the descent of the cherry blossoms and, with his unparalleled swordsmanship, executed a display of breathtaking beauty and extraordinary skill. Each swing of his sword, enveloped by the cherry blossoms, seemed as natural and effortless as breathing itself.

William shared his insights with Koushirou, who was visibly surprised. He had always known William was exceptionally talented, but he hadn't expected him to approach this level of understanding so quickly.

William and his group stayed in Shimotsuki Village for three days. During this time, William, Edmond, and Aramis resumed their studies under Koushirou, rekindling memories of their time training at the dojo. Meanwhile, the other pirate officers gradually returned to the ship.

On this particular day, William was sparring in the courtyard with Edmond and Aramis, while Koushirou led the students in observing from a distance.

William faced both Edmond and Aramis simultaneously. Without relying on his Devil Fruit powers, he held his ground using only his swordsmanship. All three were top students of the dojo who had also gained practical combat experience at sea. Their techniques were sharp, and their intent to kill was palpable. Their sparring was both a display of the beauty inherent in swordsmanship and a testament to its lethal nature.

The intensity of the duel left the dojo students—many of whom had little to no real combat experience—breaking out in cold sweats.

William focused on Koushirou's teachings, prioritizing technique over brute strength. His movements were precise, with minimal footwork, as he concentrated entirely on Edmond and Aramis—or more specifically, on their swords. He attuned himself to the forces acting on their blades, the inertia, and the "breath" of the swords themselves.

In this world, swordsmanship, when taken to a certain level, began to transcend into the realm of philosophy. It evolved from mere technique into "the way of the sword," emphasizing the spiritual and mental cultivation of the swordsman rather than just physical prowess.

Fortunately, the proficiencies [Zen Sword Arts] and [Sudden Enlightenment] had granted William a natural aptitude in this area.

Edmond and Aramis attacked with all their might, but William deflected each strike with ease, as if he could see through their every move.

The two stepped back, panting heavily. After exchanging a glance, they prepared to launch another joint assault. However, William suddenly sheathed his sword.

Neither Edmond nor Aramis let their guard down, assuming that William's action signaled the start of something new rather than the end of the duel. They halted their movements, watching warily as William lowered his stance and shifted his weight. His posture was textbook-perfect for an iai strike.

William remained motionless in his iai stance. Edmond and Aramis, still on high alert, decided to take the initiative. Knowing that William possessed a Logia Devil Fruit, they had no reservations about attacking with full force.

As Edmond and Aramis moved, William finally acted. His pupils seemed unfocused, as if his attention wasn't on his opponents. In reality, his mind and spirit were wholly attuned to the "breath" of their swords.

Crack!

The instant Edmond and Aramis stepped into William's range, he drew his blade with lightning speed. A streak of sword light flashed across the courtyard, grazing their blades ever so lightly before continuing its path.

The next moment, the two finely crafted katana in Edmond and Aramis's hands were cleanly sliced in half, as if they were no more than paper.

William closed his eyes, resheathed his sword, and stood still, savoring the fleeting moment of enlightenment. Meanwhile, Edmond and Aramis stared speechlessly at their broken swords.

After a while, Aramis noticed William looking at him with a smile. Feigning anger, he raised his broken sword and said, "What are you looking at? You owe me a new one!"

(Note: Some readers may be confused about the title of Volume 2, The Demon of the East Blue. The "demon" refers not only to vengeance itself but also to the Devil Fruit user Barbarossa and the Devil Fruit obtained by the protagonist.)

Chapter 114

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 114: A Time of Turmoil

In the year 1509 of the Sea Circle Calendar, the East Blue seemed to be in a state of unrest.

First, William and his Morgan Pirates rose to prominence in the waters surrounding the Navia Kingdom. Then, "Red-Haired" Shanks and his Red-Haired Pirates, visitors from the Grand Line, made their way to Foosha Village in the Goa Kingdom. Finally, the militaristic powerhouse Germa Kingdom from the North Blue launched an incursion into the East Blue.

The Germa Kingdom, a nation built on military strength and advanced technology, had no fixed territory. Its citizens lived aboard ships that operated independently under normal circumstances but could merge into a single mobile nation when needed.

The majority of Germa's population was male, and nearly all were combat-ready. Its army, known as Germa 66, was infamous worldwide. It had even been depicted as a villainous organization in serialized comic strips, leading many in the East Blue—and even across the world—to believe that Germa 66 was merely a fictional evil army.

That illusion was shattered when Germa 66 appeared in the East Blue and swiftly conquered the small nation of Kokia.

On the day war broke out, a passing passenger ship witnessed the entire process of Kokia's discovery of Germa 66 and its subsequent fall. Armed with advanced weaponry and a highly professionalized military, Germa 66 overwhelmed Kokia with ease. The small nation stood no chance against such a formidable foe.

Surprisingly, Germa 66 paid no attention to the passing passenger ship. As the ship departed Kokia's harbor, the news of the war spread rapidly, sparking panic among the nations of the East Blue.

The Germa Kingdom was notorious for its history of conquest. Its activities had previously been confined to the equally perilous waters of the North Blue, where it had once dominated by waging war against four kings and emerging victorious. The kingdom had even captured photographs of its triumphs over the monarchs.

Anyone familiar with these stories could easily conclude that most nations in the East Blue would be powerless against such a military powerhouse.

The media in the East Blue seized on the incident, publishing sensational reports. While there was little concrete evidence, the coverage effectively fueled widespread fear and anxiety.

In the Navia Kingdom, within the capital city of Kalmar, King Norton I set down the newspaper he had been reading. With a troubled expression, he rose from his throne and began pacing, his mind weighed down by concerns for his nation.

Two attendants standing nearby exchanged glances before simultaneously lowering their gazes, avoiding any attention. They were all too familiar with King Norton I's tendencies.

Perhaps Norton I had good intentions and occasionally entertained the idea of being a wise and virtuous ruler. After all, how many monarchs—no matter how incompetent—would wish for their own realm to deteriorate? To them, the kingdom was essentially their family's legacy.

However, being a wise ruler required more than impulsive decisions and poorly conceived ideas. Take, for instance, the king's prohibition on alcohol. The Navia Kingdom's cold climate and hilly terrain meant that its grain production was low, yet its citizens had a strong cultural affinity for drinking. While some degree of regulation and reform might have been reasonable, Norton I, under the subtle influence of Count Arcadio, issued an outright ban on alcohol.

Did this king, who had never set foot outside the royal castle and whose citizens barely knew what he looked like, truly believe that his authority was absolute and universally respected simply because of his legal sovereignty?

The attendants silently mocked their ruler in their hearts.

The result of Norton I's prohibition was widespread public discontent, with most of the blame directed squarely at the king himself. Meanwhile, the ban failed to eradicate alcohol consumption. Instead, the underground trade in alcoholic beverages flourished, with Count Arcadio monopolizing the market. The profits from this illicit trade flowed directly into the treasury minister's pockets, untaxed.

The attendants were aware of this situation but had no interest in informing Norton I. The closer one got to the royal family, the more one realized that they were just ordinary people who had been extraordinarily lucky. Without the backing of the World Government, these so-called rulers would likely have been overthrown long ago in a world dominated by the strong.

Even as a king, a fool remained a fool. Norton I's ignorance and obstinacy, combined with his arrogance, made him favor the outwardly loyal and submissive Count Arcadio. As the Minister of Finance and the most senior of the four key ministers, Arcadio wielded immense power, controlling the kingdom's finances and enjoying a deeply entrenched family presence in the royal capital. He was far beyond the reach of a mere attendant.

If the king had been wise, the attendants might have dared to offer bold advice. But the current state of affairs was entirely the result of Norton I's own actions. Watching the king pace slowly and frown in thought, the attendants had no desire to risk their careers or lives by speaking up.

Finally, Norton I seemed to arrive at a solution. He turned to one of the attendants and said, "Summon the Minister of Finance."

The attendant quickly left to carry out the order. Before long, word came that Count Arcadio had arrived outside the hall.

When Norton I gave the order to admit him, the elderly Count Arcadio, his hair streaked with gray, entered the hall with hurried steps. Upon reaching the king, he knelt on one knee and performed a meticulous bow, struggling to rise as he inquired, "Your Majesty, what has happened?"

In truth, Arcadio already knew why he had been summoned. Norton I had read about the Germa Kingdom's incursion into the East Blue in the newspapers, and that was the reason for his call. Nevertheless, Arcadio feigned ignorance.

Norton I raised his hand in a benevolent gesture, as if to help the elderly minister rise, despite the considerable distance between them.

As a senior statesman left behind by the previous king, Arcadio had long been exempt from such formalities due to his age and position. Yet, unlike the other ministers, he continued to perform these rituals with unwavering precision, even ignoring Norton I's personal attempts to dissuade him. His steadfast loyalty and humility endeared him greatly to the king.

With a grave expression, Norton I recounted the news of the Germa Kingdom's conquest of Kokia. Though Arcadio was unimpressed internally, he outwardly adopted an increasingly serious demeanor as the king spoke.

"Your Majesty, what is your command?" Arcadio asked respectfully.

"To protect our citizens, we must expand our military and strengthen our defenses!" Norton I declared passionately. "If that deranged nation dares to target us next, I'll make sure they pay with their blood!"

Arcadio inwardly balked at the idea. As the Minister of Finance, he was acutely aware of the enormous costs associated with military expansion—a long-term expenditure with uncertain benefits.

What if the Germa Kingdom never targeted the Navia Kingdom? What if the newly built army proved no match for Germa 66?

Despite his reservations, Arcadio maintained his deferential facade. He responded with a firm "Yes, Your Majesty," without the slightest hint of dissent.

No matter what he thought privately, Arcadio had always been obedient in front of Norton I, which had earned him the king's complete trust.

Chapter 115

Chapter 115: Inviting the Wolf into the House (Part 1)

《One Piece：The True Codex》The Minister of Finance's Residence.

Under the guidance of a servant, William arrived at the door of the meeting room.

After knocking lightly twice, the servant bowed to William, preparing to leave. However, William, in return, politely bowed and thanked him. This gesture surprised the servant, who had guided countless dignitaries in the past but had his service taken for granted just as many times. For the first time, he felt a faint sense of goodwill toward one of his charges.

When a voice from inside the room responded with "Come in," William pushed open the door. Inside, he saw the elderly Count Arcadio, his hair streaked with white, seated on a soft sofa alongside the short and shrewd Marine Colonel Roy. The butler, Eaton, was in the process of pouring tea for the two men.

After William entered and took a seat, Eaton poured him a cup of tea as well. Count Arcadio then waved the butler away, leaving only the three of them in the room: a kingdom's minister, a high-ranking Marine officer, and a rising pirate leader. Together, they held sway over both the legitimate and underground powers of the Navia Kingdom, their combined influence envied and coveted by many in the shadows.

However, Count Arcadio looked far from pleased despite his position as a key figure in the kingdom's dual governance. His brows were furrowed tightly as he addressed Roy and William. "Have you read the recent newspapers in the East Blue?"

William merely nodded, while Colonel Roy flicked the ash from his cigar and replied, "You mean the matter with Germa 66?"

Count Arcadio gave a slight nod. The moment King Norton I issued his orders, Arcadio had thought of his two allies and immediately extended an invitation for this meeting.

At its core, Norton I's concerns boiled down to issues of military strength. The Germa Kingdom posed a threat to the nations of the East Blue with its overwhelming might. To fulfill the king's directive and maintain Norton I's perception of him as a loyal minister, Arcadio needed military support.

Arcadio's authority in their alliance stemmed from the World Government and his noble status, but Roy and William relied on their tangible martial prowess. He needed their help.

However, after hearing Arcadio's request, Roy shook his head and bluntly stated, "Others may not know, but I do. Even if we combine our forces—Marines and pirates alike—we wouldn't stand a chance against an army like Germa 66. That's Grand Line-level military power."

"Besides," Roy continued, puffing on his cigar, "how could the Marines collaborate with pirates to fight a common enemy? Justice and evil are fundamentally irreconcilable."

Before William could respond, Arcadio's expression darkened, and he retorted, "Irreconcilable with evil? Are you suggesting that Germa 66's reputation as the 'Army of Evil' is a baseless slander? Germa 66 is wreaking havoc in the East Blue, and the Marines are just going to ignore it?"

"The Marines' mission is to combat pirates and any threats to the World Government's authority. The Germa Kingdom is also a member nation of the World Government. Internal disputes between member nations are not something the Marines can intervene in," Roy replied calmly.

"Can't intervene? Or won't intervene?" Arcadio's tone grew sharp, his face clouding over.

Seeing Roy remain unperturbed, Arcadio turned to William. He had assumed that Roy's attitude would discourage William, but to his surprise, William lowered his head in thought for a moment before suddenly looking up and saying, "Since it's a request from you, Count Arcadio, of course, I'll do my best. After all, we're allies. However..."

"However what?" Arcadio's expression softened significantly as he asked.

"While I'm personally willing to help our ally, you must understand that my crew consists of uneducated brutes who risk their lives for wealth. They don't share our relationship or loyalty to the kingdom," William said, rubbing his lips and offering a deliberately bitter smile. "If I ask them to fight a formidable enemy for a country they feel no connection to, especially at the risk of their lives, they're unlikely to agree."

Arcadio gave William a long, searching look before asking, "Then what do you think they want? Money?"

"No, no, no," William quickly waved his hands. "I think they'd prefer recognition—a status that would allow them to walk openly on land without having to skulk about in the shadows."

"You're suggesting integrating them into the kingdom's military system?" Arcadio asked, his tone skeptical.

"Have you heard of the Seven Warlords of the Sea?" William nodded slightly.

Arcadio frowned. "Privateering licenses? We don't have the authority of the World Government to issue those."

"I wouldn't dream of asking for a privateering license," William replied with a smile. "But we can take inspiration from that system. By granting an established armed group official recognition, you could gain a fully combat-ready force without spending a single Berry. It would also give you an easy way to report back to His Majesty. Besides, while the Navia Kingdom may lack the authority to issue privateering licenses, neither I nor my crew are currently on the World Government's radar."

Roy furrowed his brow, scrutinizing William from head to toe, while Arcadio rose from his seat and began pacing the room, deep in thought.

William's proposal seemed highly advantageous. As he had pointed out, the kingdom could acquire a battle-ready force without spending a single Berry, simply by granting his crew official recognition.

If Arcadio were to reject the proposal and instead build a new army from scratch, the financial cost would be one thing, but the time required would be incalculable. By then, Germa 66 might have already stormed the Navia Kingdom's capital or withdrawn from the East Blue entirely. In either case, Arcadio's efforts would be rendered meaningless.

It would be far better to act swiftly while Norton I's attention was still on the issue. Not only would this demonstrate his diligence, but it would also highlight his capability.

However, two key considerations remained: control over this newly recognized force and King Norton I's attitude toward such a solution.

Having reached this point in his thoughts, Arcadio stopped pacing and narrowed his eyes at William, asking tentatively, "I could grant them this recognition, but you've done us such a great favor. How should I repay you...?"

William's eyes lit up, and he instinctively straightened his posture. It was as if Arcadio's words were exactly what he had been waiting to hear. Licking his lips, he spoke with a mix of excitement and deference, not even bothering with pleasantries: "I... I hope to become a noble of the Navia Kingdom and live in the noble district."

After saying this, William quickly added, as if to obscure his true intentions, "With noble status and residence in the noble district, I believe my crew would trust you and His Majesty. Seeing this example of goodwill, they would surely fight bravely for the Navia Kingdom."

Arcadio raised an eyebrow, giving William a knowing, amused look. He believed he had seen through the young man before him. This nervous and expectant youth, struggling to conceal his excitement, was clearly desperate for the title of nobility.

(Author's Note: For readers unfamiliar with the original story's later developments, the Germa Kingdom is ruled by Sanji's family. For details on Sanji's timeline, refer to the related "Zeff Timeline" section. In the original work, the Germa Kingdom uses massive snails to cross the Red Line into the East Blue, and Kokia is indeed one of their targets. They even spared an innocent passenger ship passing through.)

Chapter 116

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 116: Inviting the Wolf into the House (Part 2)

Yet another country bumpkin dreaming of joining high society.

Count Arcadio smirked inwardly but decided not to reject William's proposal, as it conveniently addressed one of his concerns.

If William had no desires, Arcadio would find the situation difficult. Despite his disdain for William's origins, William was still the leader of a pirate crew. If things turned sour, he could indeed make Arcadio's life difficult, even threaten his safety. Much like a beast, you can mock them for their primitive ways, but their fangs and claws are their intimidation and bargaining chips.

However, if William coveted a noble title, things became easier. It was akin to William, the beast, willingly entering a cage for stable food. His ambition to become a noble and be part of the upper echelons of society meant he could no longer remain an outsider. He would have to integrate into the kingdom's system and consider the opinions of the kingdom's finance minister, since it was the Navia Kingdom granting him the coveted noble title.

This would also ensure that Arcadio could maintain a degree of control over the forces William commanded.

Having made up his mind, Arcadio still played his cards carefully, drawing out his tone as he tentatively asked, "Given this, I have another question. If His Majesty agrees to your proposal, you become a noble, and your subordinates are integrated into the kingdom's army, then what about military expenses...?"

William was momentarily stunned, inwardly cursing Arcadio's stinginess and greed, but outwardly he quickly displayed an excited expression, seemingly forgetting everything upon hearing he could become a noble. He eagerly replied, "Self-provided, we'll supply all our own provisions."

Arcadio frowned; the phrase "self-provided provisions" struck him as odd. "Your enthusiasm for serving the country is commendable. I'm sure His Majesty will be pleased and likely agree to this proposal. Your subordinates will no longer bear the dirty pirate identity, and you can become a noble member of Navia Kingdom's upper society."

Arcadio had actually accepted William's proposal, especially upon hearing that William wouldn't require military funding. This meant he could rightfully pocket the military budget while only paying the price of a noble title from Navia Kingdom. Since it was the state making the offer, what did he have to lose?

William wasn't angered by Arcadio's unconsciously condescending tone. He nodded repeatedly, appearing spineless, which made Arcadio feel both amused and somewhat disdainful.

Arcadio, no longer interested in speaking with William, turned to Roy. "Is there really no way to resist Germa 66?"

Roy took a drag on his cigar, shifting his gaze from William to Arcadio. "You know the Vinsmoke family of Germa Kingdom once dominated the North Blue, right? That sea is nothing like the East Blue, where pirate forces run rampant. The local nations have developed higher military standards to survive in such an environment. Against such a nation, such an army, what do you have to resist them? That empty-headed king's vacant mind?"

"Just put on a show for your useless king," Roy waved dismissively.

Roy's words made Arcadio realize that Navia Kingdom lacked the means to resist Germa 66. Even with William's Morgan Pirates, the best he could do was fulfill Norton I's order to expand the military and pray Germa 66 wouldn't target them, ultimately earning Norton I's praise for completing the task.

Roy was cautious and prudent, a trait Arcadio knew well. Since Roy had made his stance clear, he wouldn't help against an enemy as formidable as Germa 66.

With nothing more to discuss, William rose to take his leave, guided by a servant through the estate, across gardens, and to the front gate.

William appeared in high spirits, humming a tune softly as he walked.

Outside the gate, Hatcheson, sporting a ruddy nose, was talking to a somewhat inexperienced young pirate. Upon seeing William emerge from the estate, they both approached him.

"Captain, why are you in such a good mood?" The young pirate, Ropita. Rolle, asked curiously.

Hatcheson, hearing this, scolded in a fatherly manner, "Why are you so curious? You want to know everything!"

Rolle pouted and fell silent.

"The captain has secured a good future for everyone, that's why he's happy," William said with a smile, patting Rolle on the shoulder.

William's pirate crew was quite diverse. He commanded four ships with over three hundred crew members, including veterans from Barbarossa's era, visitors from the Grand Line, talents recruited from defeating other pirate crews, and newcomers hired from the shore.

Ropita. Rolle belonged to the latter category. Unlike the bankrupt sailors, fishermen, and ruffians previously recruited, he came from a "respectable family." He was the son of a village chief whom William had saved. Rolle had some education and knew a bit about navigation. He had no prior intentions or needs to become a pirate until his father was killed by attacking pirates. After witnessing William and the Morgan Pirates defeat the attackers, Rolle was drawn to them and voluntarily joined the crew.

Rolle's skills were average; he was only seventeen and lacked systematic training. William recruited him with experimental intentions, and there were several other newcomers with similar backgrounds on board. As William expected, these originally honest young men quickly assimilated into the pirate lifestyle, adopting many of its vices in less than half a month—drinking, gambling, womanizing, and cunning became second nature.

Only Rolle managed to maintain some of his initial demeanor, so William kept him close, teaching him swordsmanship and minimizing contact with the more unsavory pirates to reduce their influence.

Humans are social creatures, and few can remain untainted in a corrupt environment. Pursuing this is impractical, and William, recognizing this, already had plans to form a unit composed primarily of individuals like Rolle, free from the typical pirate habits.

The act he put on in front of Arcadio was actually a spur-of-the-moment decision, deliberately staged. His true intention was to acquire the grounds and legitimacy to form an army. As a pirate crew, even if he attacked other malicious pirates, recruiting crew members lacked a legitimate reason. Donning the guise of a state changed everything, especially since William needed to separate from his original pirate crew.

His display of desperation for a noble title was entirely for Arcadio's benefit, a spontaneous performance relying on William's cleverness and adaptability.

"You go find Dampier and tell him I want to buy an estate in the noble district. It should be large, luxurious, and preferably extravagant—something that suits a nouveau riche's taste," William instructed Hatcheson with a smile. "He's the local bigwig, so he can handle this. Also, let him know there's no rush to complete the transaction, but he can make a show of it."

Hatcheson was puzzled but nodded in agreement. William then turned to Rolle and said, "You go with him."

Rolle was about to leave with Hatcheson when he noticed William still standing there and asked curiously, "Captain, aren't you leaving with us?"

William laughed heartily, "I'm buying an estate, so I should inspect the area, take a stroll around the noble district until the guards find me suspicious and question me, then I'll leave."

Once the confused pair had departed, William strolled along the estate's walls, heading deeper into the noble district. With no one around, he swayed his head as if unable to contain his joy and satisfaction.

With no one around, William swayed his head and, as if singing opera, muttered theatrically in a language no one in this world could understand:

"The carnivores are ignorant, unable to foresee..."

His tone carried a heavy dose of disdain.

...

On the balcony, Arcadio sipped his tea, watching William swagger down the road, and let out a contemptuous laugh. "Ignorant country bumpkin."

(Information about the release schedule and additional updates has been posted in the related sections.)

Chapter 117

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 117: Inviting the Wolf into the House (Part 3)

In the room, Roy, who had yet to leave, glanced toward the balcony where Arcadio was still watching the "smug and self-satisfied" William leave. Roy broke the silence, saying, "I think agreeing to his proposal is unwise."

"Oh?" Arcadio turned back at the remark, raising an eyebrow at Roy. "And why is that?"

"I can't say for certain," Roy replied, frowning.

Although Roy was cautious by nature, William's strategies were shaped by the knowledge and experience of a modern world, far beyond the comprehension of someone like Roy. Limited by the worldview and knowledge of this world, Roy could not fathom William's true intentions.

His unease stemmed from an instinctive distrust of William. Roy felt that William's proposal carried a hint of conspiracy, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

But such baseless concerns clearly failed to sway Arcadio. After all, William's proposal, at least on the surface, directly benefited Arcadio, resolving a pressing issue for him. Moreover, William's request to become a noble effectively handed Arcadio leverage over him.

"You're just overly cautious," Arcadio said dismissively, shaking his head.

Roy took a deep drag from his cigar, his mood visibly souring. "Has your informant, Kuro, reported anything recently?"

"A few things."

Roy's eyes lit up at this, but Arcadio's next words dashed his hopes. "Kuro said that Stolt is too soft-hearted. He can't bear to see his pirate subordinates pillaging and plundering ashore, so he constantly forces his crew to clash with other pirate crews instead. Many of the veteran pirates on his ship are dissatisfied with him for this. I suspect his proposal this time is also for his own benefit. By becoming a noble, he can gradually distance himself from pirate matters. And once his crew is cloaked in the guise of the kingdom's military, he'll have a legitimate excuse to stop them from raiding ashore."

"What about the Devil Fruit? Is it a Logia?" Roy asked, frowning further as he pressed on the key issue.

"No, Kuro said he primarily relies on swordsmanship in combat. His fruit ability doesn't seem particularly strong," Arcadio replied.

Roy fell silent, lost in thought. By this point, he understood Arcadio's stance and knew it would be futile to press further. Without another word, Roy stood up abruptly and left the room.

Even after returning to the Marines' 16th Branch base, Roy couldn't shake his unease. He locked himself in his office, his brows furrowed in deep thought, until a knock on the door pulled him back to reality.

It was his trusted subordinate, Captain Eusolin Heller, who entered after saluting and loudly reported, "Sir, Major Nezumi has a situation to report."

The wrinkles on Roy's forehead deepened.

The unfairness of the world never ceased to frustrate him. Roy thought of his own journey—rising from a mere recruit to a senior officer. Along the way, he had poured sweat and blood into his efforts, narrowly escaping death countless times, and enduring grueling training day and night to achieve his current position.

And then there was Nezumi, a man Roy considered utterly incompetent. Thanks to his family's influence, Nezumi had climbed the ranks without any notable achievements, eventually being assigned to the "safest" sea in the world—the East Blue—as an officer.

Because of these connections, Roy, as the highest-ranking officer in the branch, had to show him some respect. These same connections ensured that even in the unfamiliar waters of the East Blue, Nezumi still had people lining up to hand him credit.

Since William's rise in the waters surrounding the Navia Kingdom, he had defeated numerous pirate crews. Although most were insignificant, the World Government and the Marines had yet to officially issue a bounty for him. The main reason for this was that William always handed over the credit to Marine officers like Nezumi, Gin, and Roy.

William involved Gin under the pretext of their shared hometown, Roy because he was the highest-ranking Marine officer in the Navia Kingdom's vicinity, and Nezumi because of his high-level connections.

Thus, in the official reports of the Marines, those pirates were not defeated by the Morgan Pirates, but rather by the Marines of the 16th Branch under Roy's command, with Nezumi leading the charge and Gin fighting valiantly.

In just over a year, Gin had risen from a mere soldier to an officer and was now a Second Lieutenant. Nezumi's rise was even more dramatic; thanks to his family background and some strategic maneuvering, he had been rapidly promoted from Second Lieutenant to Major.

Even Roy himself, whose rank had stagnated for some time, had received repeated commendations from his superiors. Considering that branch officers were generally ranked lower than their headquarters counterparts, it wasn't impossible for Roy to eventually become a Commodore with a bit more effort.

Logically, Roy should have developed a favorable impression of William for this. But unfortunately, he wasn't Nezumi.

Before long, the much-derided Major Nezumi was led into the office by Captain Heller. After offering a less-than-perfect salute to Roy, Nezumi sat down in the chair across from Roy's desk at his invitation.

"Speak. What could you possibly have to report?" Roy asked, his tone curt once Nezumi was seated.

Nezumi's face twitched. Roy was known to be domineering within the branch base. While he couldn't do much to someone as well-connected as Nezumi, he had ensured that Nezumi held no real power, keeping him close under the guise of "supervision."

When Nezumi had first been transferred to the 16th Branch, he had thought he was being groomed for a significant role. It didn't take long for him to realize that Roy had brought him in to monitor him personally and strip him of any real authority.

Even now, as a Major, Nezumi still held no actual power. With no responsibilities to speak of, he rarely had anything to report.

Nezumi had considered transferring out, but William, through Tony, had persuaded him to stay. William's influence was primarily concentrated in the waters near the Navia Kingdom, and Nezumi was reluctant to leave the steady stream of benefits William provided.

Suppressing his frustration, Nezumi glanced at Captain Heller, who had not left the room and was now pouring tea for the two of them. Hesitating, Nezumi began to speak vaguely. "Colonel Roy, you see, I have a... friend. He often sails the seas, and as you know, the current environment is quite dangerous. So, he's looking to acquire something for self-defense."

Roy stared coldly at Nezumi, finally breaking his silence. "This 'friend' of yours—you're talking about Stolt, aren't you?"

Nezumi glanced at Captain Heller again, his meaning clear, but Roy remained unmoved.

With no other choice, Nezumi forced a strained smile. "Well, Stolt and his crew could be considered friends of the Marines' 16th Branch. After all, they've provided considerable assistance in our efforts to eliminate pirates in our jurisdiction. Helping him is like helping ourselves."

"Friends, huh?" Roy sneered. "What does he want?"

Nezumi lowered his voice. "The Rokushiki techniques."

Bang!

The moment the words left Nezumi's mouth, Roy grabbed a hefty book from his desk and hurled it at him. Despite his short stature, Roy was surprisingly strong. The book flew fast and hit Nezumi squarely on the nose, causing a sharp pain to shoot through him. Blood and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face, and he nearly fell off his chair.

"You idiot!" Roy roared.

Chapter 118

Announcement: Midnight Launch and Post-Launch Plans

Dear readers,

The book will officially go live tonight at midnight, which is 12:00 AM on the 1st.

First and foremost, I want to express my gratitude to my chief editor, Green Bean, for their guidance. Without our conversation, this slow-witted author would have remained oblivious to how vibrant and thriving the world of fanfiction and ACG (Anime, Comics, and Games) literature has become.

Next, I must thank my lovely editor, Xiao Yuan. In this regard, I've always believed in the saying, "Fools have their fortune." I've been fortunate enough to always encounter excellent editors. As someone who is "cool and aloof" (read: introverted), I have a habit of never proactively bothering my editors. Yet, Xiao Yuan has never forgotten about this little transparent author who prefers to keep to himself, always offering support along the way.

Lastly, and most importantly, I want to thank the most tolerant and adorable readers in the world—you. Even though you often tease me for writing "short chapters," I've always taken it with a smile and have never been so frustrated that I punched the wall! I've always remained calm and grateful.

I am not a naturally gifted writer, nor do I have a clear roadmap or grand strategy for my journey in online literature. Regarding the success of this novel, the fact that I have received the support of so many kind and understanding readers can only be attributed to one key insight I've gathered:

《One Piece：The True Codex》Readers are not fools.

In the current landscape of online literature, where stories, plots, characters, settings, and styles can all be formulaic, as long as you put in the effort and rack your brains to write something different, readers will surely reward you for it.

A click, a bookmark, a recommendation…

Whether or not you've poured your heart into your writing, among the sea of readers, there will always be someone who can tell.

That's why, even when this novel initially struggled with low readership and some advised me to follow the mainstream trends, I stuck to the unique style and direction of this book.

This style and direction are not easy to write. In fact, it's exhausting and may even seem thankless. But I firmly believe that there will always be readers who will notice and appreciate this novel's distinctiveness and recognize the effort I've poured into it.

In the authors' chat group, we often joke that launching a book is like undergoing a heavenly tribulation—a test of a novel's true merit. Whether it ends in obliteration or steady growth depends entirely on its post-launch performance.

So, whether this persistence turns out to be a laughable and thankless endeavor or the correct choice, the answer will lie in the results of this "tribulation."

I don't have the reputation or authority to call for "supporting the official release," but if you enjoy this novel and believe that I've truly put in the effort, I humbly ask for your support for both the book and myself.

Post-Launch Update Plans:

After midnight, I will familiarize myself with the author backend system for the launched book. Around 12:10 AM, I will release five chapters of VIP content in one go.

1. Subscription-based updates:

   • The baseline is 800 first-day subscriptions. For every additional 400 first-day subscriptions, I'll add one more chapter.
   • After the first day, I'll base additional updates on the average subscriptions. For every additional 200 average subscriptions, one more chapter will be added.
   • Currently, the book has around 22,000 bookmarks. While The Pirate Codex may not be the most "meaty" story, it's definitely not filler. When pushing for the new book rankings, some bots approached me about buying my way up the charts. Despite failing to make the rankings multiple times, I firmly refused—not because I'm stingy and unwilling to spend money, but because of my sense of justice (solemn and sacred expression)!
   • Thus, the first-day subscription target is set at a 1:25 ratio with the bookmark count, which is slightly lower than the average for similar fanfiction on Qidian, considering this is my first book launch.

2. Reward-based updates:

   • For every 20,000 coins in rewards (equivalent to one Hall Master reward in total), I'll add one chapter. This is based on the total rewards from all readers.

3. Monthly ticket-based updates:

   • For every 400 monthly tickets, I'll add one chapter.
   • During the May 1st event, Qidian seems to be doubling the value of monthly tickets—each ticket counts as two until May 7th.

Finally, there will be a baseline of two chapters per day after the launch. All additional updates will be in addition to this baseline.

I've stocked up on a case of Red Bull and two packs of cigarettes. I'm not planning to rest during the May Day holiday—I'll be glued to my computer, writing chapters for you. While there's no upper limit to the number of additional chapters, I won't be able to release them all at once like on the first day. Instead, they'll be released gradually.

Pre-launch Goals:

The first goal was to maintain a consistent update schedule, which I've achieved so far. Post-launch, while continuing to meet this first goal, the second goal is to maintain this adrenaline-fueled update plan through June. If I survive June, then the goal extends to July, and so on.

Final Words:

This humble author is about to face the midnight tribulation. Fellow night owls cultivating their own paths, I humbly ask for your support!

Chapter 119

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 119: Raising a Tiger

"Ideals are still worth having..." Captain Heller muttered softly, clearly unconvinced.

"A few months ago, I painstakingly sifted through news and clues, spending over ten days to write a detailed research report on the Seven Warlords of the Sea. I sent it to headquarters, but I've heard nothing back. I suspect the people at headquarters tossed it straight into the trash. Maybe it's because I'm just a commander of an East Blue branch, daring to comment on matters of the Grand Line—they probably didn't even bother to read it. And what's more, my report opposed the entire policy," Roy said indifferently.

"Before that, I'd written other reports as well, but none of them ever got a reply. You think I have no ideals? I used to have them, but my ideals sank into the abyss along with those reports."

"Do you know why I'm so wary of Stolt?" Roy asked, seemingly intrigued, as he continued, "Barbarossa was nothing more than a wild dog without any real plans or ambitions. Sure, he was vicious and clever, but still just a dog—his threat level was pitifully low. He had no potential for growth. But Stolt? What he's doing now is practically a replica of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, and his actions bear a striking resemblance to Crocodile's."

"The Marine high command naively hopes to use the power of pirates to restrain or even intimidate other pirates. But in my view, this is nothing more than raising a tiger that will eventually turn on its master. They're only recruiting a group of ambitious schemers who quietly build their strength under the banner of the World Government and Marines. Sooner or later, the Marines or the World Government will suffer a massive loss because of this policy," Roy sneered, openly mocking the higher-ups in the Marines and the government. "That Stolt, who operates in our jurisdiction, is likely one of these figures. But unfortunately for him, I'm not one of those fools in the World Government or Marine headquarters."

Heller lowered his head. He understood his superior well. Roy held himself in high regard but, due to his strength and personality, was often overlooked and carried a significant grudge against Marine headquarters and the World Government.

Regarding the Seven Warlords of the Sea, Roy might have a point, but Heller believed that the higher-ups in the Marines and the World Government were likely aware of these risks. They had simply weighed the pros and cons and made their decision accordingly.

While Roy and Heller were conversing in the office, Nezumi had already exited the gates of the 16th Marine Branch base.

The base was stationed in a small town. Looking disheveled and bloodied, Nezumi didn't go home. Ignoring the pointing fingers of the townsfolk, he headed straight for a relatively upscale tavern in town.

Tony had rented two rooms here for himself, Manny, and Angie to use as a base for contacting Nezumi and Gin.

Tony was seated on the first floor, leisurely drinking with his two companions, when he spotted the bloodied Nezumi push open the tavern door. Tony's expression changed drastically, and he rushed over, shouting back at Manny to quickly fetch a doctor.

When he reached Nezumi, Tony put on a concerned expression, helping him over to a nearby table to sit down.

"Upstairs, to your room," Nezumi muttered in a muffled voice.

With Angie's help, Tony supported Nezumi upstairs to his room. Once the door was closed, Tony asked, "Major, who dared to hurt you like this!?"

Angie fetched a towel, dampened it, and began attentively wiping the blood off Nezumi's face.

"Who else could it be?" Nezumi squinted, leaning back against the chair and letting Angie tend to him. "Of course, it was Captain Roy!"

"Captain Roy? But why...?" Tony asked, puzzled.

"I just asked about the 'Rokushiki' techniques on your captain's behalf, and Roy went berserk! He grabbed a book and smashed it into my face," Nezumi grumbled. "I don't even know what your captain did to provoke Roy. He's guarding against your captain like he's some kind of thief."

Tony's heart skipped a beat, but he maintained a calm demeanor. "You know what kind of person our captain is, don't you? He's the most generous and loyal friend anyone could have. How could he possibly provoke Captain Roy for no reason? Over the past year, hasn't Roy gained plenty of benefits and accolades thanks to us?"

"Here's what we'll do, Major. Please wait a moment," Tony said, pulling out a box containing a Den Den Mushi. "Let me consult with our captain."

Nezumi hesitated, but Tony had already left the room.

In another room, Tony dialed William's number. The line connected within seconds, and upon hearing William's voice, Tony quietly relayed what had happened with Nezumi.

Judging by Nezumi's appearance, Tony didn't even need to ask to know that the matter of Rokushiki was a bust. However, this had been within William's expectations. What intrigued William more was the attitude Roy had inadvertently revealed toward him.

"What should we do next?" Tony asked for instructions.

"Take 5 million Belly from your stash and give it to Nezumi as a first-class reward," William said calmly.

Tony paused briefly before asking, "Five million Belly? He didn't even get the job done. Why give him so much?"

"He needs to know that as long as he works for us, we won't treat him poorly," William explained. "Also, drop a hint to him that if he had succeeded, I was planning to reward him with a grand prize of 20 million Belly. Let him know that this reward was ruined because of Roy."

"I see your point," Tony said. "But isn't 5 million Belly too much? I'm worried it'll make Nezumi greedy."

"I'm counting on his greed. The greedier he is, the more he'll crave our money, and the bolder he'll become. The deeper he sinks, the better for us," William chuckled on the other end of the line. "Money is just paper printed by others. It only has value when it can be exchanged for something truly useful. Think long term."

"...Understood," Tony replied in a serious tone.

After hanging up, Tony rummaged under the bed in the room, pulling out a suitcase. He opened it, checked its contents, then carried it back to the living room where Nezumi was waiting.

In the living room, Nezumi was sitting in a chair, tilting his head back as Angie worked on stopping the bleeding. Tony placed the suitcase heavily on the table beside Nezumi, the thud drawing his attention.

Nezumi cautiously turned his head, just in time to see Tony open the suitcase and angle it toward him.

Stacks upon stacks of neatly arranged cash instantly widened Nezumi's eyes. He hadn't expected much after failing the task. Even if William's crew decided to pay him, he assumed it wouldn't be much. But reality had completely exceeded his expectations, prompting an involuntary exclamation: "This much?!"

Tony smiled and said, "Originally, you were supposed to get 2 million Belly. But when our captain heard you got hurt because of us, he added another 3 million Belly."

"Your captain is truly a generous man," Nezumi said, his eyes gleaming. He hadn't expected to earn 5 million Belly just by saying a few words. What was a book to the face compared to this? If getting hit with a book could earn him this much, he wouldn't mind getting hit every day until he dropped dead.

Chapter 120

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 120: A Good Man

Nezumi instinctively reached out to touch the cash inside the suitcase, but when he noticed the blood still on his hands, he quickly pulled back.

Tony, on the other hand, let out a dramatic sigh. When Nezumi looked at him, Tony put on a face full of hesitation, as if he had something to say but couldn't bring himself to say it.

"What's wrong?" Nezumi asked curiously.

"Nothing," Tony replied, but his expression clearly screamed, "There's something."

As if suddenly remembering, Tony smacked his forehead and pulled out a few colorful, palm-sized slips of paper from his pocket. Carefully, he handed one to Nezumi. "Major, take this."

"What is it?"

"A lottery ticket!" Tony chuckled. "The Four Seas Trading Company held a raffle, and you've won first prize: five million Belly."

Nezumi glanced at the slip in his hand. Sure enough, amidst its gaudy design, the words "First Prize" were printed in bold. Below that, in slightly smaller text, it read: "Prize: 5,000,000 Belly."

"This was your idea?" Nezumi asked, looking at Tony.

"It was our captain's idea," Tony replied, mimicking William's tone from when he had explained it. "The captain said, 'You're our friend, and as friends, we should do our best to ease each other's worries. While this money is just a normal exchange between friends, there are always ignorant people who won't understand such pure friendship. To prevent anyone from slandering you, we came up with this approach.'"

Nezumi didn't know what to say. William's generosity was so thoughtful and considerate, even worrying about him being caught in a compromising situation. What more could he ask for?

"Your captain is truly a good man!" Nezumi exclaimed sincerely.

Tony smiled silently, his fingers seemingly idly rubbing the remaining lottery tickets, producing a faint rustling sound.

Sure enough, Nezumi's attention was drawn to the sound. He looked over and asked curiously, "Are those also lottery tickets?"

"Oh!" Tony feigned realization and showed Nezumi the tickets one by one. "This is the third prize, one million Belly. This is the second prize, two million Belly..."

Finally, Tony slowly pulled out the last ticket. "And this is the grand prize... twenty million Belly!"

Nezumi stared at Tony, who stared back at him. Nezumi wasn't entirely foolish. Connecting Tony's earlier expressions with the massive prize amount on the ticket, he tentatively asked, "This twenty million Belly... was it prepared for my success on this trip?"

Tony exaggeratedly slapped his thigh. "Exactly!"

His face was full of pain, as if he himself had lost the money. "Our captain had specially prepared twenty million Belly for you. As long as Captain Roy agreed, this money was meant as your reward. But alas..."

"That petty, narrow-minded bastard Roy! He just can't stand to see others doing well!" Nezumi clenched his teeth in frustration. The thought of losing a twenty-million-Belly reward made his heart ache. Coupled with the throbbing pain in his nose, his resentment toward Roy deepened even further.

A little earlier, when Tony had hung up the phone...

In a private meeting room within Dampier's underground bar in Kalmar City, the "good man" William Morgan Stolt also set down his Den Den Mushi.

"Money is just paper printed by others. It only has value when it can be exchanged for something truly useful," Dampier repeated William's earlier words, clapping in admiration. "That's quite the grand perspective!"

"It's easy to say," William replied, standing up from the sofa. He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing the room absentmindedly. "The problem is, there are too many useful things I want to exchange for, and not enough money."

William wasn't lying—he was indeed short on funds.

There was no doubt that his income was substantial. On one hand, the Four Seas Trading Company was a massive money-making machine. Whether it was the liquor market, the gift market, or the health products market, these were all highly lucrative industries. Coupled with the backing of the Morgan Pirates, who engaged in aggressive competition, the company's growth was extraordinarily rapid.

Additionally, the villages and towns under William's protection, though only paying a modest security tax, had essentially become his exclusive markets. These areas were dumping grounds for his products, and without his permission, foreign goods couldn't even dock at the ports. Sherlock was already spearheading efforts to expand into industries beyond liquor.

Moreover, William had invested in Dampier's arms company, which had developed new weapons that outclassed traditional firearms in every way.

Finally, there was the loot from pirate raids. The combined income from all these sources made William's financial empire terrifying. But at the same time, his expenses were equally staggering.

The profits from the arms company were entirely reinvested into its research division at William's insistence, pushing for the development of new weapons. He had even demanded research into chemical weapons, which meant the profits from revolvers and bolt-action rifles alone weren't enough to cover costs. Product promotion also required funding, necessitating additional investment. Fortunately, Dampier himself was a tech enthusiast and had agreed to contribute funds as well.

On the pirate side, the Morgan Pirates had four ships and over three hundred crew members. Their daily expenses for food, supplies, and other necessities were no small sum. On top of that, there were salaries to pay and compensation for casualties.

In Maple Village, William was planning to build a shipyard and even develop new ship designs based on his memories. This alone would cost a fortune.

Lastly, if Arcadio agreed to his proposal and allowed his armed groups to operate under the guise of the kingdom's military, William would have to fund the construction of military bases in Kalmar City and purchase a luxurious estate in the noble district to appease Arcadio and his associates.

With the establishment of these military bases, two long-planned institutions would also need to be built. William valued these institutions highly and wouldn't skimp on their construction, meaning yet another significant expense.

Other miscellaneous public relations costs, by comparison, were mere pocket change.

William needed more funds, especially with the imminent formation of a new army under his command. This demand was becoming increasingly urgent.

Unlike the Morgan Pirates, which sustained themselves through plundering, this new army wouldn't rely on such methods for maintenance, leaving it without a source of income.

"The other pirate factions within the Navia Kingdom have been effectively neutralized after about a year of our campaigns," William said, organizing his thoughts as he spoke. "De facto monopoly has been achieved, so I'm ready to move on to the next phase: charging fees."

"For passing ships?" Dampier, ever the sharp mind, immediately understood.

"In the waters of the Navia Kingdom, any merchant ship docking at ports or sailing along trade routes must fly the Morgan Pirates' flag and pay fees per trip," William explained. "Ships that fail to do so will be sunk."

This approach was inspired by William's knowledge of Zheng Zhilong from his previous life.

Historical records noted: "No ship could sail without Zheng's flag. Each ship paid three thousand gold coins annually, amassing millions in revenue. With these funds, Zheng built a fortress at Anping Town."

In essence, it was a system of maritime protection fees enforced through superior military power.

Dampier raised a concern. "If you do this, the Morgan Pirates will find it much harder to avoid attention from the government and the Marines. As the captain, staying off the wanted list like you have so far will become nearly impossible."

"By then, I'll already be a noble of the Navia Kingdom," William replied with a faint smile. "The captain of the pirates will be someone else."

Chapter 121

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 121: Norton I

Leaving aside the dealings between William and Roy, in Kalmar City, a few days after meeting his allies Roy and William, Arcadio sought out Norton I.

The two strolled through the palace gardens as Arcadio cautiously tested the waters. "Your Majesty, ever since receiving your command, I've been unable to sleep, spending sleepless nights pondering how to strengthen our army. Unexpectedly, the very next day, a local hero visited me. Seeing my troubled state, he inquired about the cause. Upon hearing of your noble aspirations to reinvigorate the kingdom, he was deeply moved. He immediately expressed his willingness to join the royal army and offered his fleet and warriors to serve Your Majesty and defend the nation. However, I didn't agree right away, as I felt this matter required your approval."

Norton I responded with a simple "Oh," neither praising the "hero" nor showing surprise. To him, others offering their entire fortunes to him was only natural.

"How many ships does he have, and how many men?" Norton I asked directly.

"Four warships and over three hundred men, all seasoned warriors of the sea," Arcadio replied.

"There's still such an armed force within the Navia Kingdom?" Norton I raised an eyebrow, though he showed no fear or concern. The likes of Germa 66 could intimidate him because they had personally toppled a nation. "Is this man a pirate?"

"I swear on my honor, he is not!" Arcadio replied unflinchingly. "Their captain, Stolt, is a well-known chivalrous figure within the kingdom. All I've heard of him is that he helps our citizens drive away sea-bound evildoers. Moreover, he doesn't even have a bounty from the World Government—how could he be a pirate?"

"If that's the case and he's so willing, then grant his request," Norton I said casually.

Seeing that Norton I had nothing further to say, Arcadio couldn't help but remind him, "Your Majesty, such patriotic warriors deserve rewards."

"You're right. I can meet him personally and commend him face-to-face," Norton I replied.

Arcadio paused before bowing slightly and saying, "I believe Your Majesty could bestow upon him a noble title. It would set an example for others, demonstrating your generosity and wisdom. Moreover, for a true hero, you've never been stingy with rewards."

Norton I considered this for a moment and then nodded in agreement.

After leaving the palace, Arcadio shed the servile demeanor he had displayed in front of Norton I, regaining the authoritative air of a high-ranking minister. Seated comfortably at home, he ordered his servants to summon William.

William had been staying in Kalmar City for the past few days, waiting for news.

This unexpected opportunity was a rare chance for William. He had long sought official recognition from a local kingdom. With such status, his forces—whether kingdom, Marines, pirates, or trading company—could seamlessly bridge the worlds of legality and illegality, forming a vast network. This network would gradually transform the region into a semi-autonomous kingdom, where his factions could mutually shield and support each other, quietly growing stronger while minimizing the attention and influence of the World Government.

William had originally planned to delay his kingdom-related initiatives, but the invasion by Germa 66 had expedited Norton I's plans to expand the military. Faced with the burden, Norton I had passed it on to Arcadio, who—desperate and short-sighted—had turned to William. Mistaking William for an easily manipulated figure blinded by the allure of a noble title, Arcadio had unwittingly invited this ambitious wolf into the kingdom's political structure.

Such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was not something William would let slip. Thus, most of his energy was focused on this matter. As soon as Arcadio's envoy arrived, William immediately set out for Arcadio's estate.

Upon seeing the hurried and visibly excited William, Arcadio smiled knowingly.

William's recent actions had produced results. Arcadio, living in the noble district, was well-informed about its happenings. He had already heard that the day William made his proposal, he couldn't contain his excitement and rushed to other parts of the district to survey the environment. Soon after, he had impatiently sent people to purchase an estate in the noble district.

To Arcadio, who was born into a prominent family and noble status, William's behavior was laughable. However, it also made him feel that William would be much easier to control.

"His Majesty has agreed to your proposal," Arcadio said leisurely, sipping his tea. "The day after tomorrow, you'll accompany me to meet His Majesty. Once you're officially granted your title, your crew will become members of the royal army, and you will become a noble of the Navia Kingdom."

Though William inwardly scoffed at Arcadio's pretentiousness, he outwardly displayed an expression of overwhelming excitement and gratitude, nodding repeatedly as if he were too thrilled to speak.

"When you meet His Majesty, remember to restrain that uncivilized, unrefined demeanor of yours," Arcadio lectured arrogantly. "You're about to become a noble, so you must carry yourself accordingly. Don't disgrace us nobles by lowering yourself to the level of commoners."

William readily agreed, though he dismissed Arcadio's words inwardly.

The next day, dressed impeccably, William accompanied Arcadio to the royal palace.

Although William held little regard for Arcadio or Norton I, he wasn't one to seek attention unnecessarily. Today, he had taken care to dress well, donning a black formal suit. His medium-length blonde hair was slicked back with pomade, styled neatly into a swept-back look.

William's tall and muscular physique, solid yet not bulky, perfectly complemented his well-tailored suit. The dark tones of his attire added an air of gravity, highlighting his striking presence. Were it not for the slightly weathered texture of his skin—due to years of exposure to sea winds—and his hands, roughened by sword practice and covered in calluses with thick knuckles, many might mistake him for an elegant nobleman.

Guided by palace guards, the two walked through the palace. The architecture was grand enough, but for William, who had toured places like the Forbidden City and Great Hall of the People in his previous life, it was hardly impressive.

Eventually, they reached the palace hall. After being announced, they entered, and with a single glance, William took in the layout of the room.

Years of living as a pirate had honed his vigilance. His first instinct was to note the positions of the guards in the hall before focusing on the man seated on the throne—King Norton I—and the ministers standing at the base of the throne's platform.

Norton I appeared to be in his forties, with pale skin and a slightly corpulent build. His hands were soft and fair, his hairline slightly receding, and his upper lip adorned with a neatly trimmed mustache. His brown eyes were somewhat dull, and the dark circles under them were pronounced due to his complexion.

To the common citizens of the Navia Kingdom, this crown-wearing, throne-sitting figure likely exuded authority and majesty with every gesture. But to William, he was merely an aging man who rarely engaged in labor and lived a rather indulgent lifestyle.

His complexion, physique, hair color, and mustache all pointed to a life of privilege, while his hairline, dull gaze, and dark circles hinted at his character.

Chapter 122

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 122: The Kingdom's Strongest Warrior

When the elderly Arcadio knelt down on one knee without hesitation to pay homage to Norton I, the white, plump, and balding king, William felt a momentary discomfort. However, it lasted only a second before he followed suit, kneeling on one knee and mimicking Arcadio's gesture of respect.

"So, you're Stolt?" Norton I asked from atop his throne, looking down at William.

"Yes, Your Majesty," William replied as he stood up.

Hearing this, Norton I gave William a once-over. Clad in formal attire with his hair neatly styled into a slicked-back look, William exuded an air of refinement. Norton I frowned slightly. "You don't look like the kind of warrior who could command the respect of other men."

William opened his mouth to respond, but Arcadio stopped him with a sharp glance.

"Your Majesty, Stolt is indeed a renowned warrior from the East Blue," Arcadio interjected on William's behalf. "But what's even more commendable than his prowess is his integrity. He does not use his strength to oppress others but instead upholds justice. And now, at your summons, he has pledged himself and his crew to the service of the kingdom. Such character is worthy of your reward."

"A 'renowned warrior from the East Blue'? If he's so famous, why have I never heard of him?" A middle-aged man clad in heavy plate armor scoffed from within the hall. He then exaggeratedly turned to the other ministers nearby and asked, "Have any of you heard of him?"

The moment the man spoke, a sly grin appeared on Norton I's face, and he shifted restlessly on his throne, leaning forward with a look of keen interest at the ministers below.

Arcadio sighed inwardly. He had stopped William from speaking earlier precisely to avoid this situation.

The man who had just spoken was none other than Andre, the so-called "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior" and the captain of King Norton I's royal guard.

Like Arcadio, Andre was of noble birth. However, while Arcadio's family belonged to the civil service aristocracy, Andre's lineage was that of military nobility. It was easy to imagine how much "padding" was involved in earning the title of "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior."

Andre did possess some skill. He was naturally gifted, incredibly strong, and had undergone rigorous military training. He was proficient in wielding a variety of standard military weapons, including greatswords, flails, halberds, and bows. However, his title was the result of a highly selective process.

First, one had to be of noble birth with a solid family background. Then, one had to frequently appear before the king as part of his personal guard and earn Norton I's favor and trust.

Those kingdom officers who lacked these qualifications, no matter how skilled they were, could never achieve the title of "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior." After all, who would know who they were if they couldn't even get close to the king or have other nobles vouch for them?

Arcadio knew Andre well. Despite his narrow-mindedness and vanity, Andre wasn't a fool. For him to make such a statement in this setting—especially one that undermined Arcadio, the kingdom's chief minister—could only mean that the capricious and willful king on the throne had orchestrated it.

Arcadio understood Norton I's personality all too well. Moreover, the king wasn't even trying to hide his intentions. It was clear that Norton I had deliberately set the stage for a dramatic conflict. He wanted his "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior" to spar with the "renowned warrior from the East Blue" that Arcadio had recommended. This way, he could both test William's strength and enjoy a good show.

Arcadio had anticipated this and had tried to prevent it by speaking on William's behalf earlier.

It wasn't that Arcadio was worried about William losing. He had seen enough to judge that, while he didn't know William's exact capabilities, anyone who could kill Barbarossa—a feat William claimed to have achieved through cunning—couldn't be weak.

As for Andre, whose title owed much to his family background and who had relatively little combat experience, Arcadio doubted he could match William, a pirate captain who lived by the sword.

However, Andre was Norton I's personal guard, frequently by the king's side. His narrow-mindedness made him prone to holding grudges. If William lost, it would be Arcadio's reputation that suffered. But if William won, he risked earning Andre's enmity.

As Arcadio pondered this dilemma, Norton I, eager to stir up trouble, declared, "Andre, since you doubt Stolt's abilities, why don't you spar with him?"

The king then turned to William with a serious expression. "Stolt, Andre is the strongest warrior in the Navia Kingdom. If you lose, I won't hold it against you. But I do hope this match will show me why Arcadio recommended you."

The Kingdom's Strongest Warrior!

William, unaware of the political undercurrents at play, took Norton I's words at face value. Seeing the king's solemn demeanor and hearing the impressive title, he immediately heightened his vigilance.

While it was true that this world's most formidable individuals often gravitated toward the Marines or pirates, it stood to reason that a king would recruit some powerful warriors to protect himself and his kingdom.

If Andre was indeed the strongest warrior in the kingdom, his strength couldn't be underestimated.

True to his impulsive nature, Norton I decided to have the duel take place right there in the palace. At his command, two squads of royal guards, clearly prepared in advance, brought forth a rack filled with various weapons.

As William flexed his joints and focused his mind, Arcadio seized the moment while everyone's attention was on the weapon rack. He approached William and whispered, "Go easy on him. Don't win too decisively."

"You may choose your weapons freely!"

Before Arcadio could elaborate, Norton I's booming voice interrupted him. Under the king's watchful gaze, Arcadio had no choice but to step away from William and join the other ministers, leaving the center of the hall clear.

Though puzzled by Arcadio's warning, William selected a katana from the weapon rack. After inspecting its blade to ensure it was sharp, he sheathed it with satisfaction and turned to face Andre.

Andre, in his early thirties, was even taller than William, whose height was already imposing. Standing nearly three meters tall and clad in heavy plate armor, Andre resembled an iron giant, his movements accompanied by the clinking and clanging of metal.

Noticing William's gaze, Andre sneered. He called back the guards who had brought in the weapon rack and ordered them to remove his heavy armor.

As the armor was stripped away, Andre's exaggerated physique was revealed. His bulging muscles rivaled those of the bodybuilders William had seen on television in his previous life.

"I won't take advantage of you," Andre said, clearly pleased to see William's expression grow more serious at the sight of his physique. Tilting his chin arrogantly, he added, "This way, you won't have any excuses when you lose to me."

Chapter 123

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 122: The Kingdom's Strongest Warrior

When the elderly Arcadio knelt down on one knee without hesitation to pay homage to Norton I, the white, plump, and balding king, William felt a momentary discomfort. However, it lasted only a second before he followed suit, kneeling on one knee and mimicking Arcadio's gesture of respect.

"So, you're Stolt?" Norton I asked from atop his throne, looking down at William.

"Yes, Your Majesty," William replied as he stood up.

Hearing this, Norton I gave William a once-over. Clad in formal attire with his hair neatly styled into a slicked-back look, William exuded an air of refinement. Norton I frowned slightly. "You don't look like the kind of warrior who could command the respect of other men."

William opened his mouth to respond, but Arcadio stopped him with a sharp glance.

"Your Majesty, Stolt is indeed a renowned warrior from the East Blue," Arcadio interjected on William's behalf. "But what's even more commendable than his prowess is his integrity. He does not use his strength to oppress others but instead upholds justice. And now, at your summons, he has pledged himself and his crew to the service of the kingdom. Such character is worthy of your reward."

"A 'renowned warrior from the East Blue'? If he's so famous, why have I never heard of him?" A middle-aged man clad in heavy plate armor scoffed from within the hall. He then exaggeratedly turned to the other ministers nearby and asked, "Have any of you heard of him?"

The moment the man spoke, a sly grin appeared on Norton I's face, and he shifted restlessly on his throne, leaning forward with a look of keen interest at the ministers below.

Arcadio sighed inwardly. He had stopped William from speaking earlier precisely to avoid this situation.

The man who had just spoken was none other than Andre, the so-called "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior" and the captain of King Norton I's royal guard.

Like Arcadio, Andre was of noble birth. However, while Arcadio's family belonged to the civil service aristocracy, Andre's lineage was that of military nobility. It was easy to imagine how much "padding" was involved in earning the title of "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior."

Andre did possess some skill. He was naturally gifted, incredibly strong, and had undergone rigorous military training. He was proficient in wielding a variety of standard military weapons, including greatswords, flails, halberds, and bows. However, his title was the result of a highly selective process.

First, one had to be of noble birth with a solid family background. Then, one had to frequently appear before the king as part of his personal guard and earn Norton I's favor and trust.

Those kingdom officers who lacked these qualifications, no matter how skilled they were, could never achieve the title of "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior." After all, who would know who they were if they couldn't even get close to the king or have other nobles vouch for them?

Arcadio knew Andre well. Despite his narrow-mindedness and vanity, Andre wasn't a fool. For him to make such a statement in this setting—especially one that undermined Arcadio, the kingdom's chief minister—could only mean that the capricious and willful king on the throne had orchestrated it.

Arcadio understood Norton I's personality all too well. Moreover, the king wasn't even trying to hide his intentions. It was clear that Norton I had deliberately set the stage for a dramatic conflict. He wanted his "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior" to spar with the "renowned warrior from the East Blue" that Arcadio had recommended. This way, he could both test William's strength and enjoy a good show.

Arcadio had anticipated this and had tried to prevent it by speaking on William's behalf earlier.

It wasn't that Arcadio was worried about William losing. He had seen enough to judge that, while he didn't know William's exact capabilities, anyone who could kill Barbarossa—a feat William claimed to have achieved through cunning—couldn't be weak.

As for Andre, whose title owed much to his family background and who had relatively little combat experience, Arcadio doubted he could match William, a pirate captain who lived by the sword.

However, Andre was Norton I's personal guard, frequently by the king's side. His narrow-mindedness made him prone to holding grudges. If William lost, it would be Arcadio's reputation that suffered. But if William won, he risked earning Andre's enmity.

As Arcadio pondered this dilemma, Norton I, eager to stir up trouble, declared, "Andre, since you doubt Stolt's abilities, why don't you spar with him?"

The king then turned to William with a serious expression. "Stolt, Andre is the strongest warrior in the Navia Kingdom. If you lose, I won't hold it against you. But I do hope this match will show me why Arcadio recommended you."

The Kingdom's Strongest Warrior!

William, unaware of the political undercurrents at play, took Norton I's words at face value. Seeing the king's solemn demeanor and hearing the impressive title, he immediately heightened his vigilance.

While it was true that this world's most formidable individuals often gravitated toward the Marines or pirates, it stood to reason that a king would recruit some powerful warriors to protect himself and his kingdom.

If Andre was indeed the strongest warrior in the kingdom, his strength couldn't be underestimated.

True to his impulsive nature, Norton I decided to have the duel take place right there in the palace. At his command, two squads of royal guards, clearly prepared in advance, brought forth a rack filled with various weapons.

As William flexed his joints and focused his mind, Arcadio seized the moment while everyone's attention was on the weapon rack. He approached William and whispered, "Go easy on him. Don't win too decisively."

"You may choose your weapons freely!"

Before Arcadio could elaborate, Norton I's booming voice interrupted him. Under the king's watchful gaze, Arcadio had no choice but to step away from William and join the other ministers, leaving the center of the hall clear.

Though puzzled by Arcadio's warning, William selected a katana from the weapon rack. After inspecting its blade to ensure it was sharp, he sheathed it with satisfaction and turned to face Andre.

Andre, in his early thirties, was even taller than William, whose height was already imposing. Standing nearly three meters tall and clad in heavy plate armor, Andre resembled an iron giant, his movements accompanied by the clinking and clanging of metal.

Noticing William's gaze, Andre sneered. He called back the guards who had brought in the weapon rack and ordered them to remove his heavy armor.

As the armor was stripped away, Andre's exaggerated physique was revealed. His bulging muscles rivaled those of the bodybuilders William had seen on television in his previous life.

"I won't take advantage of you," Andre said, clearly pleased to see William's expression grow more serious at the sight of his physique. Tilting his chin arrogantly, he added, "This way, you won't have any excuses when you lose to me."

Chapter 124

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 124: Eliminating Hidden Threats

Due to Andre's vomit polluting the hall, William's knighting ceremony was shortened. After going through a series of tedious and meaningless rituals, Norton I finally lifted his ceremonial sword from William's shoulder, officially making him a knight of the Navia Kingdom. However, this lower-tier noble title was not even hereditary.

The ceremony proceeded without any major interruptions until, just before the official appointment decree was announced, Andre suddenly spoke up:

"Your Majesty, the kingdom's army is a formal military force under your command. It undergoes rigorous training, adheres to strict discipline, and is known for its bravery. While civilian militias may have enthusiasm, we should not discourage such emotions, but there must be a clear distinction between them and the regular army. Otherwise, if drunken sailors and commoners are allowed to mix with our soldiers, and more people follow suit in the future, it could turn our kingdom's army into nothing more than a rabble!"

William turned his head slightly, glancing at Andre, who maintained a neutral expression, as if merely fulfilling his duty. This muscle-bound man possessed a sharp tongue that contrasted with his appearance. If one ignored his looks, one might mistake him for a seasoned bureaucrat skilled in rhetoric.

"And what exactly do you mean by that, Captain?" Arcadio frowned as he looked at Andre.

"Since they are civilian forces, let them form a separate militia unit to distinguish them from the regular army," Andre suggested, casting a sidelong glance at William before turning to Norton I. "They can assist the regular army during peacetime, handle local defense in areas beyond the army's reach, or maintain public order. Their treatment should also differ from that of the regular army. Otherwise, if any civilian group can stand on equal footing with our well-trained soldiers, how would our troops feel about that?"

Arcadio looked toward William, only to see him touching the shoulder where Norton I's ceremonial sword had just rested, seemingly lost in the satisfaction of becoming a noble.

Seeing William in such a state, Arcadio had no interest in speaking up for him further.

Thus, when William received his appointment decree, his title became "Captain of the Navia Kingdom Militia."

As they left the palace, William finally thought to ask Arcadio, "What did you mean earlier when you spoke to me before the duel?"

"Andre is one of His Majesty's personal guards and enjoys his trust, but he is narrow-minded. I was worried that after you defeated him, he would hold a grudge and speak ill of you to His Majesty in the future as a form of revenge," Arcadio shook his head and pointed to the appointment decree in William's hand. "But it's too late to talk about that now. His revenge has already begun."

"Still, you've achieved your goal of becoming a noble. This minor setback shouldn't matter much to you," Arcadio stroked his beard. "Besides, His Majesty wouldn't completely believe everything Andre says. Otherwise, he wouldn't have granted you a noble title at all."

At that moment, Andre and a few of his close allies among the ministers happened to walk past the two men. William smiled warmly at Andre, but the latter responded with a forced and insincere grin before walking away without looking back.

"See what I mean?" Arcadio remarked upon witnessing this. "Your approach of constantly signaling peace is the right one. Although he is narrow-minded, he can't possibly target you all the time. Even His Majesty would grow tired of that. Be patient, let him vent his anger, and once he finds it pointless, he'll likely give up."

William nodded with a smile, agreeing with Arcadio's opinion and expressing his desire to avoid unnecessary trouble.

...

That night, in a private room at one of Dampier's restaurants, William and Sherlock were drinking and chatting.

Sherlock had arrived in Kalmar City that afternoon, sneaking into the restaurant. When he first arrived, several officers of the Morgan Pirates were still present, but now he was alone with William.

Reflecting on William's account of the events in the palace earlier and the instructions he had just given to helmsman Diego and others, Sherlock couldn't help but ask, "Won't taking action now cause complications?"

"What complications? I've already received both the noble title and the militia appointment," William said, slowly rubbing his hand against his wine glass. "Besides, my performance in the palace today was witnessed by everyone. Who would associate the death of the 'Kingdom's Strongest Warrior' with me?"

As a pirate captain for so long, William had grown increasingly ruthless. While he had appeared humble and submissive in front of Andre during the day, by the afternoon, he was already instructing the officers of his pirate crew to plan Andre's assassination.

This kind of behavior was something he could never have done in his previous life.

"Is it because his remarks caused your status to be downgraded from the regular army to the militia?" Sherlock speculated about the reason behind William's intent to kill Andre.

"No, it's simply because I'm petty," William replied half-jokingly before explaining, "In fact, becoming a militia unit is actually a good thing. It creates an entirely new and independent force outside the kingdom's existing military structure, making it more autonomous and less conspicuous. This suits me perfectly."

William's purpose in joining the kingdom's military was never about serving the nation. He was merely using the official title to support his own private army. His claim that all his pirate crew members would join the military was just a ploy to deceive Arcadio and others. They would only don the guise of soldiers during inspections. If the infamous Germa 66, which even Roy feared, truly invaded the Navia Kingdom, William would be the first to pack up and flee with his subordinates.

Moreover, his earlier declaration to Arcadio about being self-sufficient and not requiring military funding was not to curry favor with the greedy old man but to ensure that the financial control of his new army remained firmly in his own hands.

Now, with the establishment of the militia, William had created an entirely new and independent unit. Personnel decisions were directly under his control, something that wouldn't have been possible with the regular army.

In this way, within the new army he was about to form, William held both personnel and financial authority. In this world with its rudimentary military system, this militia might bear the name of the Navia Kingdom, but in reality, it would belong solely to "Morgan."

The militia's primary responsibilities were to assist the regular army and handle other inconspicuous tasks, making it easier for William to conceal his plans.

"Then it must be because of his position," Sherlock concluded after some thought.

"This is a rare opportunity. If we succeed, we'll have the freedom to soar across the East Blue. That's why my tolerance for hidden threats is zero," William said flatly, acknowledging Sherlock's guess. "Andre's title as the 'Kingdom's Strongest Warrior' is now a joke, but his role as one of Norton I's trusted confidants is not. He often stays by the king's side. Arcadio managed to persuade Norton I to issue a prohibition order with just a few words. If Andre remains alive, who knows when he might say something to ruin my plans? Rather than letting our feud escalate to the point where everyone knows about it, it's better to eliminate him now. No one will believe I would do such a thing over a minor conflict."

"Besides, his death won't be in vain."

Chapter 125

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 125: The Killing Scheme

In Kalmar City, the night had deepened. From an aerial view, the slums were almost entirely shrouded in darkness, with only a few scattered lights emitting faint glows.

In contrast, the civilian area, just a step above the slums, was considerably brighter. Surrounding and guarding the center was the noble district, which was brightly lit, with street lamps illuminating every inch of the roads for the residents living there.

Andre, accompanied by three trusted subordinates, walked along a small path in the civilian area. Unlike the noble district, which was filled with street lamps, their pace was somewhat slow.

Although the country's laws and bans were often mere formalities for the nobles, the prohibition on alcohol did affect nobles like Andre. While they had ways to drink if they truly wanted to, it was inconvenient to drink freely at any time. The noble district, being under the palace's watchful eye, couldn't conduct alcohol trade as openly as the slums or even the civilian area.

Thus, after being humiliated today, Andre suddenly decided to vent his frustration by drinking, forcing him to go to the civilian area, which he considered dirty and chaotic. As for the slums, he saw them as a garbage heap and would never go there to drink.

"There's no law more ridiculous than the prohibition on alcohol," complained a soldier from the guard squad as he nearly stumbled on the uneven path. "Prohibition, prohibition—alcohol isn't banned; it's just made drinking a bit more difficult and added a bit to the cost."

Andre remained silent, his expression sour not because of his subordinate's words but due to his injuries.

William's claw not only had immense force but also released five streams of scorching steam, leaving Andre with five bloody wounds on his skin. Despite the wounds being treated, they still throbbed with pain as he walked.

This intensified Andre's hatred for William, the instigator.

Andre was contemplating how to trouble William in the future when he noticed that one of his trusted subordinates walking ahead suddenly stopped.

Andre was puzzled, but a glance ahead revealed the reason.

Standing on the path ahead was a short and stout man. Due to the darkness, Andre couldn't see his face clearly, but the knife in his hands gleamed faintly in the moonlight.

This path was quite secluded, with no one else passing by except Andre and his three trusted subordinates. The stout man holding a weapon clearly had malicious intent.

"Who are you!" The leading guard squad soldier grasped his sword hilt, stepping forward and shouting warily.

But as soon as he spoke, the stout man's hands suddenly moved, and a flash of cold light vanished into the leading guard soldier's neck. The immense force caused the soldier to stagger two steps before collapsing directly to the ground.

Andre instinctively raised his arm to protect his head and vital areas as soon as the stout man lifted his hands. In the next instant, he felt a sharp pain in his arm. Lowering his arm, he discovered a heavy throwing knife deeply embedded in it.

At this moment, Andre regretted not wearing his armor due to his desire to drink.

Meanwhile, the stout man had already charged forward, his hands continuously moving, throwing several knives that whistled through the air.

Andre swiftly grabbed a nearby guard squad soldier and used him as a shield. A series of muffled thuds followed, and the struggling soldier let out a groan before falling silent. The last guard squad soldier was also struck by knives in the vital areas of his chest and forehead, collapsing to the ground.

Sweating profusely, Andre tried to retreat with the corpse to escape back to the noble district, but suddenly heard footsteps from behind.

Turning around, Andre saw a burly man with a terrifying scar on his throat, holding a curved sword and looking at him coldly. Beside him stood a young man with slightly curly black hair, also holding a slender blade. The two had somehow blocked Andre's retreat.

The gleam reflecting off their blades was piercing, and Andre's gaze met the young man's eyes filled with desire and excitement.

These two were none other than Harden, the vice-captain of the Morgan Pirates, and Oliver, whom William had recently brought aboard from the Isshin Dojo.

The stout man throwing knives earlier was naturally Diego, the helmsman of the Morgan Pirates.

Blocking the retreat, Oliver felt some initial anxiety about killing for the first time, but his desire for achievement far outweighed everything else. Suppressing his negative thoughts, he was the first to rush toward Andre, followed closely by Harden.

With pursuers ahead and a blockade behind, Andre's mind raced. He threw the corpse of the guard squad soldier toward the stout man with terrifying knife accuracy, intending to hinder him, then turned and charged backward.

His right hand was injured, so he awkwardly drew his longsword with his left hand. However, standing nearly three meters tall, the weapon he carried was a longsword to him but could be a greatsword to others.

Andre swung with force, the longsword slicing through the air with a whooshing sound. Despite using his less-practiced left hand, Andre's terrifying brute strength was enough to cleave Harden and Oliver in half together.

Harden sneered, leaping past Oliver with a quick step, his heavy curved sword horizontal. His muscles bulged as he firmly blocked Andre's sword strike.

Simultaneously, Oliver took advantage of Harden blocking Andre's attack, rolling forward with momentum, sliding beneath the longsword. His previously clean clothes became instantly dirty, but he didn't care, rolling to Andre's leg and decisively severing his shin with the blade.

Andre screamed, losing his balance. Harden, a seasoned pirate with rich combat experience, wouldn't miss such an opportunity.

Harden exerted force with his curved sword, pushing Andre's longsword aside, then took a step forward, slashing diagonally across Andre's abdomen.

With his shin severed and abdomen slashed, Andre howled in pain, collapsing to the ground with a thud.

At this point, Diego had already put down his throwing knives and picked up a curved sword from his waist, charging forward. Even half-kneeling, Andre was still much taller than him, so Diego accelerated and lightly leaped, holding the curved sword backward, using the momentum to stab the blade tip into Andre's chest.

Andre's screams abruptly stopped, the force driving him to the ground, blood frothing from his mouth as his consciousness blurred. Even now, he didn't know who wanted him dead.

Chapter 126

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 126: Savoring the Feast Slowly

Harden crouched down, grabbing Andre by the hair, ready to end his life. But Andre, his voice weak, asked, "Who are you? Why are you killing me...?"

Harden paused for a moment, then whispered in his ear, "This is an order from our captain."

"Your captain... who is he?" Andre's face was filled with confusion.

"You met him earlier today," Harden chuckled darkly.

Andre's eyes widened suddenly, finally understanding the motive behind this attack. Anger and hatred surged within him, granting him a brief burst of strength as he cursed, "So it's that damned commoner...!"

Infuriated, Harden swung his blade fiercely, severing Andre's head from his body. Andre's head, still locked in an expression of rage, rolled twice before landing by the roadside.

The next moment, a large foot stomped on the severed head. Its owner, Aramis, complained, "The captain said to make it look like a robbery-gone-wrong scene. Who's ever heard of robbers decapitating their victims?"

As Aramis spoke, several more members of the Morgan Pirates emerged from the woods lining the path. They had been lying in ambush all along, ensuring that even if Andre abandoned his attempt to flee back to the noble district and tried escaping into the woods, he would still meet a dead end.

As William had said, in critical moments like this, his tolerance for hidden threats was zero. He would not leave any loose ends.

Diego, who was pulling his throwing knives out of the corpses, glanced at Aramis and then said, "If a robber loses a companion, it's not entirely unreasonable for them to vent their anger."

Aramis rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. Immediately, three more figures emerged from the woods.

Under the guns of Hatcheson and another pirate from the Morgan Pirates, a middle-aged man wearing a dirty vest whose original color was unrecognizable, adorned with metal rings in his ears and nose, and covered in tattoos on his exposed skin, walked out with a pale face.

The middle-aged man, clearly terrified by the scene before him, dropped to his knees with a thud, begging desperately for his life from the vicious pirates surrounding him.

But the band of sea-bound outlaws remained unmoved. This man, dragged from the slums, was a local thug and a petty tyrant. Even if he had been an innocent civilian, the pirates would have shown no mercy.

Were it not for William uniting them and guiding them forward, the members of the Morgan Pirates would likely have devolved into the same kind of lawless marauders who terrorized the seas, oppressing the weak and committing atrocities.

The slums had always been a haven for crime and filth, with rampant lawlessness and countless villains. But compared to the Morgan Pirates, who were among the most formidable forces on the seas, these thugs were insignificant. The man kneeling on the ground was one such thug—a fitting target, neither too obscure nor too well-known.

Harden grabbed the middle-aged man by the collar, dragging him like a dead dog to the middle of the road. The man tried to struggle but felt his arms tighten as Aramis and Hatcheson pinned his shoulders.

With his head immobilized by Harden, the man could only catch glimpses of Diego, who picked up Andre's longsword from his corpse. In Diego's hands, the weapon transformed from a longsword to a greatsword due to its size relative to him.

Diego approached the restrained man, exhaled deeply, and steadied his stance. Despite the man's desperate struggles and pleas, Diego swung the sword diagonally, cleaving through the man's shoulder with a force that nearly bisected his upper body.

Standing nearby, Oliver's face turned pale. As a newcomer, he was unaccustomed to such brutal and bloody scenes, feeling a wave of discomfort.

In contrast, Harden, Hatcheson, and Aramis—who had been closest to the middle-aged man—remained unfazed, even as their clothes were splattered with blood.

Diego returned the longsword to Andre's corpse, while Hatcheson dragged the middle-aged thug's body to lie before Andre's, creating the illusion of a deadly struggle between the two.

Meanwhile, Aramis patted Oliver on the shoulder and led him to search the corpses of Andre's guard squad.

In no time, the group had gathered all the valuables from the bodies and pocketed them.

Once everything was done, the crew left under Harden's lead.

...

While Harden and the others were carrying out the attack on Andre, William was elsewhere, chatting with Sherlock.

Sherlock, perplexed, asked, "Not a meaningless death? What do you mean?"

"Dampier has already arranged a meeting tomorrow with Kalmar City's sheriff, and he wants me to join him," William said casually, fiddling with his wine glass. "Now, imagine what will happen tomorrow morning when the people of Kalmar City discover that their 'Kingdom's Strongest Warrior' was killed by a thug from the slums who ventured into other areas to rob and murder. What do you think their reaction will be?"

"Confusion?" Sherlock ventured.

William shook his finger.

"Suspicion?"

"No."

Sherlock lowered his head in thought, his mind racing through possibilities before finally looking up with an uncertain guess: "Fear?"

William nodded at last.

Sherlock suddenly understood.

Of course, it would be fear. Although Andre had just been defeated by William, his reputation as the Kingdom's Strongest Warrior had been deeply ingrained. Moreover, Andre wasn't just a warrior; he was a noble—a member of Navia Kingdom's upper class.

But now, he had been killed by a slum-dweller—a member of a group previously dismissed and ignored by the elite.

The filth and chaos of the slums, the poor state of law and order—Navia Kingdom's upper echelons were somewhat aware of these issues. However, they had never cared about how many people went missing, died, or were victimized there because none of it affected them directly.

But now, one of their own had died—a member of the elite, and theoretically the strongest among them. Only when harm befell their own kind would they start to take the issues of the slums seriously.

And given their nature, they wouldn't think about properly governing the slums. Instead, driven by fear and self-preservation, they would act impulsively, coming up with all sorts of rash ideas and measures.

"When they learn that Andre was killed by a robber from the slums, I bet those noble lords will be so scared they'll want to build a high wall separating their living areas from the slums," William joked. "After all, in terms of numbers, they're the minority."

"And what does that have to do with us?" Sherlock asked, puzzled.

"This country, to us, is like a delicious dish served on the table. If not for the presence of the World Government and the Marines, I alone could kill all the useless drunkards in the palace," William sneered. "But since that's the reality, I don't mind savoring the meal slowly. Acting rashly not only risks drawing the attention and interference of the World Government and the Marines but also makes it harder for us to control this country in the future, potentially causing panic among the populace."

"What I want is for the people of this country to cheer me on as I walk into the palace and ascend the throne!" William said, his eyes shining as he looked at Sherlock. "So, start thinking now—who in this country is worth pulling into our fold, and who can be swayed to our side?"

Chapter 127

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 127: An Unstoppable Force

"The royal family and the nobility? The wealth and power of this country have already been carved up by them. If we compare Navia Kingdom to a large cake, these two groups have taken more than eighty percent of it, including the richest, most delicious portions," William said, pausing for a moment.

He lifted the glass in his hand, the amber liquid inside swirling gently as he gave it a slight shake. Pointing at the glass, he continued, "Look at Arcadio and his prohibition law. They are never satisfied. Not only will they do everything to defend what they already have, but they'll also take more whenever they get the chance. But the cake is finite. At this rate, those who still have a small piece of cake will soon be left with nothing but crumbs. And when even the crumbs are gone..."

William smacked his lips but left the sentence unfinished, shifting the topic instead. "The reason Arcadio and his ilk can legally and justifiably claim so much of the cake is because of order, law, and even societal morality. And King Norton I is the embodiment of these principles. They hold the power to distribute the cake. Now tell me, if I want to take control of this country, do you think they'll support me?"

Sherlock chuckled. "Of course not."

Sherlock understood William's character very well. William didn't mind sharing benefits because he wasn't someone who indulged in luxury. His only focus was power.

No matter how friendly he appeared on the surface, deep down, William was a domineering man. He didn't mind giving others a share of the benefits, but only if he was the one doing the distributing.

Could a group of nobles accept such a strong-willed man as their ruler? Arcadio dared to deceive Norton I and impose a prohibition law, but if it were William he faced, he wouldn't even dare to mention such an idea.

William walked to the window, gazing toward the direction of the slums. "I want to be the one who divides the cake and sets the rules. But those royals and nobles will never agree. So my best allies are naturally the largest group in number—the ones who can only sit around the table, picking at the crumbs. They're easily satisfied, and when I give them more, they'll wholeheartedly support me as their distributor."

He took a sip of his drink. "Besides, what use is there in recruiting those royals and nobles? A bunch of useless drunkards—they can't help me tear apart my enemies, can they?"

...

In Kalmar City, Sheriff Dennis held a perfumed handkerchief over his nose and mouth, looking with disgust at the scene before him.

On a secluded path, five bodies lay sprawled in disarray. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the trees, casting fragmented light on the ground, but it failed to dispel the gloom in Dennis's heart.

Three of the corpses, armed with standard-issue longswords from the royal guard, had relatively normal death postures. However, the other two bodies were enough to give any ordinary person nightmares.

One belonged to a giant of a man, significantly taller than average. His head had been severed, his lower leg was chopped off, and his abdomen had been split open. His death was gruesome beyond words.

The other corpse, dressed in simpler and cheaper clothing compared to the others, bore a horrific wound stretching from his shoulder to his waist. The slash had nearly bisected his torso, leaving it precariously attached. Dennis thought it might have been less disturbing if the man had been fully cleaved in two—this half-severed state was far more unsettling.

This usually desolate path was now crowded with onlookers. After all, this wasn't the slums—where disappearances and deaths were a daily occurrence—but a border area between the commoners and the nobility. Deaths here, especially multiple deaths at once, were a rare event.

Police officers were stationed on either side of the path, preventing anyone from disturbing the crime scene. After surveying the site, Dennis stood at a distance, watching a man in his forties with a thick, bushy beard moving around the bodies. The man gestured animatedly, occasionally crouching down with his rear in the air, closely examining the ground in a manner that appeared almost comical.

Dennis, however, didn't find it amusing.

Being a sheriff in the capital city of a kingdom was far from an easy job. Given the rudimentary systems in place, Dennis was responsible for almost every matter related to law and order in the city, from major crimes to trivial incidents—everything ended up on his desk. Whether it was a murder case or a missing cat from a minister's home, it was all his problem.

If that were all, perhaps the job could be managed with diligence and effort. But in a city teeming with royalty and nobility, enforcing so-called laws and maintaining order was far from straightforward.

Dennis was merely a knight, and a low-ranking one at that, stripped of hereditary privileges. Sometimes he wondered if his low status made him an easy target, which was why the ministers had placed him in this position.

In this city, being a sheriff meant dealing with endlessly complex cases. You could never predict what connections a seemingly simple theft case might reveal—sometimes it would lead to entanglements between powerful nobles.

It was this environment that had driven Dennis to develop a gambling habit. His work itself was a gamble—a gamble before investigating a case, and another gamble after uncovering the truth. If a case turned out to involve a feud between two influential figures, choosing a side became yet another gamble.

Dennis had lost his hereditary knighthood in one such gamble.

People often said that a man's thirties were when he began to make progress in life. But for Dennis, his thirties marked the beginning of his decline.

As a result, he had adopted a more laid-back attitude.

Meanwhile, the bearded man finally stood up and gestured for Dennis to come over. Dennis frowned but walked over, and the two moved away from the crowd to speak in hushed tones.

"Stay out of this. You can't afford to get involved," the bearded man said, pretending to brush dust off his clothes while his eyes scanned the surroundings warily. His voice was low and cautious.

Dennis glanced at the man, hesitating for only a moment before nodding.

The bearded man, named Thomason, was only five years older than Dennis but looked as if he belonged to the previous generation.

Thomason had once been a bounty hunter, but family had become his final harbor. After marrying and having children, he decided to leave behind his wandering, rootless lifestyle. By chance, he ended up working under Dennis, who recognized his talents and recruited him.

Thomason wasn't exceptionally strong, but his years of wandering the East Blue had given him plenty of combat experience and a sharp eye. His investigative skills and judgment far surpassed those of Dennis, whose only distinction was his noble title.

Dennis, unlike Andre, harbored no jealousy toward capable individuals. He trusted Thomason deeply, and Thomason, in turn, was loyal to Dennis, appreciating the man who had given him a stable life and never flaunted his noble status.

"Who's behind this?" Dennis asked. "The people who died this time aren't ordinary. It won't be easy to stay out of it."

"The kind of people who could take both your life and mine!" Thomason replied gravely. "I know one of the dead is the captain of the King's royal guard. And that's precisely what makes this even more terrifying."

Chapter 128

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 128: Signs of Trouble

"The dead royal guards all have small puncture wounds in vital areas of their bodies. My preliminary assessment is that these were caused by throwing knives. The user was highly skilled—not only precise but also strong enough to penetrate even skulls with ease. Additionally, I suspect the assailant was not very tall..."

Dennis interrupted Thomason, frowning. "Why do you think they weren't tall?"

"The longsword wound on the back of Captain Andre aligns with the direction of the throwing knife wounds. The longsword wound slopes upward, indicating that the attacker struck from below with significant force at an awkward angle. Furthermore, there's a deep footprint behind Andre's body, likely left when the assailant jumped to attack. Even though Andre was tall, nearly three meters, it's unlikely that someone of average height could reach his chest—even after he was forced to kneel—without jumping," Thomason explained, his speech slow as he organized his thoughts.

"Kneeling?" Dennis frowned, glancing at Andre's corpse.

Thomason seemed to anticipate his thoughts. "Andre's legs were severed first. The cuts don't match the direction of the throwing knife wounds, and they were made from the front. It's unlikely someone would bother to lift the legs of a fallen man just to cut them off after he'd already been stabbed."

Pressing his lips together, Thomason continued, "Fortunately, the poor road conditions left plenty of footprints behind. This group is terrifying. Judging by the heavy impressions left by their movements, there couldn't have been more than three attackers. The one using the throwing knives likely took out the guards almost instantly and even managed to injure Andre."

"Andre tried to escape but was blocked by someone behind him. That person sacrificed themselves to hold him back and severely injure him. Then the knife-thrower closed in and delivered the fatal blow. Finally, the attackers, enraged by the loss of their comrade, decapitated Andre in a fit of fury."

Thomason exhaled deeply after recounting his deductions. "Three people wiped out the so-called 'Kingdom's Strongest Warrior' and his guards. The soldiers didn't even have time to draw their swords. These individuals are not only immensely powerful but also utterly ruthless. We can't afford to provoke them. If we fail to solve the case, the worst that could happen is a demotion or a fine. But these killers—they could easily take our lives."

"And another thing..." Thomason glanced around cautiously before leaning closer to Dennis and lowering his voice. "On the surface, this looks like a straightforward robbery. All the valuables have been taken. But something feels off. No matter how confident they were in their abilities, why would they choose such an obviously challenging target? Andre was nearly three meters tall, and the other guards were all robust. It doesn't make sense. And why would they leave their comrade's body at the scene? Aren't they afraid we'll trace it back to them?"

"Yes, why indeed?" Dennis muttered to himself.

"I don't know, but there's definitely a conspiracy here," Thomason said firmly. "That body most likely came from the slums—a chaotic and lawless place filled with all kinds of people. We'd do well not to dig too deep into this case."

"Most of what you've said is speculation. And let's not forget, the victim here is Andre," Dennis sighed. "Andre wasn't just anyone—he was a viscount and the captain of the King's royal guard, someone highly trusted by His Majesty. If the higher-ups order me to investigate thoroughly, how am I supposed to respond?"

"It's speculation, yes, but it's based on the evidence at the scene," Thomason replied earnestly. He then suggested, "If they really push for a full investigation, just claim the perpetrators are likely from the slums. Say the slums are too chaotic and that we lack the manpower to handle it."

"I'll give it a try," Dennis said, waving his hand in frustration.

He stood in silence for a long time before suddenly slapping his forehead, as if remembering something. "I just remembered—I have a meeting scheduled, and I'm supposed to grab a meal as well. I need to go."

With that, Dennis hurriedly jogged away from the crime scene, leaving Thomason behind, who stared after him with a sour expression.

...

In a private room of a restaurant owned by Dampier, William leaned back in his chair and asked the man across from him, "What kind of person is this Sheriff Dennis?"

"A true gambler," Dampier replied with a chuckle. "A coward in ordinary times, but utterly fearless when placing a bet."

Dampier, having established both a restaurant and an underground bar in Kalmar City, naturally had some connections.

Currently, William and Dampier were more like allies. Their frequent interactions were driven by mutual respect for each other's abilities and their shared interest in the arms trade. However, their relationship was not as close as William's bond with figures like Sherlock or Harden.

For instance, Dampier was unaware of the ambush on Andre.

The two chatted idly for a while until a knock came from the door. A man, dressed neatly and exuding a noble air, entered the room under the guidance of the restaurant manager.

Dampier smiled upon seeing the newcomer. "Dennis, you're actually on time today. That's rare."

Dennis chuckled sheepishly. If not for his desire to escape the headache-inducing case, he wouldn't have arrived so early.

Dampier then gestured toward William and introduced him to Dennis. "This is Stolt, the newly appointed captain of the militia."

"I've heard of you," Dennis said with a polite smile as he shook William's extended hand. His grip was firm but not overly enthusiastic. "Word is you defeated Captain Andre of the royal guard during the tournament in front of the palace."

William responded modestly, "It was pure luck. If we were to fight again, the outcome might be very different."

After Dennis took his seat, Dampier sighed at William's remark. "I'm afraid there won't be another chance."

Feigning confusion, William furrowed his brows and looked at Dennis.

"This morning, a murder was discovered in the slums. Andre and several royal guards were killed," Dennis explained.

William's expression turned grave. "Do you know who the culprits are?"

"We're not sure yet. The investigation is ongoing," Dennis replied, recalling Thomason's suggestion. "But our initial assessment points to criminals from the slums."

Dennis then turned to Dampier with a word of caution. "Regardless of whether the culprits are from the slums, the area's lawlessness is undeniable. The people there are utterly reckless. You should be careful—there's no telling what they might do."

Dampier laughed. "Well, it seems this meeting was perfectly timed. Stolt here is the captain of the militia, tasked with assisting local law enforcement. If you plan to address the chaos in the slums, you'll definitely need his help."

Dennis glanced at William, who offered him a friendly smile. "I'll do my best to assist when the time comes."

Chapter 129

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 129: A Wall

Inside the royal palace, Norton I was discussing the murder discovered that morning with his ministers.

William had once joked about how the nobles and ministers might respond to such an incident, saying they might consider building a high wall. At the time, it was merely a jest—he never imagined that the idea would actually be brought up during the discussion.

Perhaps William had underestimated the level of fear these nobles and royals felt regarding the matter.

Until now, the nobles and the impoverished had lived as though in two separate worlds. To the nobles, the poor and filthy slums were merely a distant symbol. When the destitute resorted to crime out of desperation, their victims were usually others of the same class, leaving the nobles untouched.

But now, with Andre—a viscount and the so-called "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior"—decapitated, the nobles began to realize a harsh truth. When the people of the slums are pushed to the brink, these wretched commoners, lacking education and honor, won't simply starve quietly at home or commit suicide. Instead, they are far more likely to turn to crime—even rebellion.

At that point, those criminals won't care about how long the nobles' lineage is or how lofty their status. Once they cross the threshold into crime, the order, laws, and societal morals that uphold the nobility's position and safety will be cast aside.

Initially, these crimes were confined to areas near the slums. But now, it seemed that as living conditions and public order deteriorated further, crime was beginning to spread into the commoners' districts—and even the noble quarters.

"I've heard of the reputation of the Goa Kingdom," said the rotund, gray-haired Minister of Internal Affairs, raising his voice. "The royal city of Goa Kingdom uses layers of separation to drive those lazy and greedy maggots outside the tall city walls, leaving them to live among the garbage. Inside the walls, the areas where nobles and royals reside are further enclosed by another layer of walls, ensuring their safety while maintaining their dignity. This separation keeps us distinct from the lower-class commoners."

"In the royal city of Goa Kingdom, the walls have only one entrance to the areas where the poor reside. The city is orderly, and the places where nobles and royals live are spotless, considered a model of social segregation!" The Minister of Internal Affairs raised his voice further. "Your Majesty, this excellent system is worth emulating in Navia Kingdom!"

The ministers began to discuss the proposal fervently. Being nobles themselves, they were naturally inclined to agree with the idea, as it directly concerned their own safety.

However, Arcadio, the Minister of Finance, sighed and stepped forward with a single question:

"And where will the money come from?"

The Minister of Internal Affairs, whose responsibilities included public order and crime but not fiscal matters, lacked a clear understanding of the kingdom's finances. Arcadio, on the other hand, knew very well that while emulating Goa Kingdom's segregation policy seemed convenient, Navia Kingdom simply couldn't afford the cost of building such walls.

"We could impose higher taxes on the commoners!" suggested the Minister of Internal Affairs.

Before Arcadio could respond, another minister retorted, "Do you intend to expand the slums even further?"

"Are the safety and dignity of the royals and nobles not more important than a bunch of commoners?" the Minister of Internal Affairs shot back, glaring at the dissenting minister.

"Expanding the slums will only worsen public order and make our safety an even bigger issue!" the dissenting minister countered. "Besides, Andre's death hasn't been fully investigated yet. We can't even be certain it was the work of criminals from the slums. There's something suspicious about this case—it must be thoroughly examined."

"The details of the case—whether there's a conspiracy or hidden truths—are not the pressing issue," the Minister of Internal Affairs said sharply. "The existence of the slums itself already threatens the safety of the royals and nobles. That's the most urgent matter right now!"

"You're absolutely right," Arcadio agreed, nodding. But then he shifted his tone: "However, even if we decide to build the walls, it won't happen overnight. In the meantime, further deterioration of public order would be disastrous for us."

Seeing the debate going nowhere, Norton I, who had remained silent until now, suddenly proposed, "In that case, how about imposing higher taxes on the nobles?"

The room fell silent for a moment before erupting into a storm of objections.

"Your Majesty! The nobles and royals are the foundation of this kingdom's rule and its face to the world," one minister protested passionately. "If the nobles cannot maintain their own dignity, what will others think of this kingdom? They'll believe it to be weak and impoverished!"

Norton I frowned. "If that's the case, what are your suggestions?"

The ministers, already uneasy about Norton's impatience and his proposal to tax the nobles, were now on edge.

Arcadio, realizing the urgency of the situation, quickly devised a solution. He couldn't afford to oppose the Minister of Internal Affairs any further.

"Your Majesty, building the walls and imposing higher taxes on the commoners are both feasible proposals. However, before the walls are completed, we must address a critical issue: preventing further deterioration of public order, which could threaten the safety of the royals and nobles."

"Do you have a solution?" Norton I asked.

"Stolt and his militia," Arcadio said slowly, organizing his thoughts. "Their original duties already include assisting in maintaining public order. The best course of action now is to deploy them as soon as possible to restore order—especially by apprehending the lawless criminals in the slums. This will ensure our safety until the walls are completed."

"Can they handle it?" Norton I asked, his face full of concern.

After all, the victim wasn't just anyone—it was his royal guard captain, the so-called "Kingdom's Strongest Warrior." In Norton's mind, the criminals in the slums now seemed even more dangerous than Germa 66, who were at least far away. The slums, however, were a problem right on his doorstep.

"Stolt is a formidable warrior. Even Andre was no match for him. Moreover, he has a deep hatred for evil and will surely excel in this task."

...

"I can't do this job," William said flatly to Arcadio, looking visibly troubled.

As soon as the palace meeting ended, Arcadio had returned home and summoned William to relay the proceedings, giving him an early heads-up.

Arcadio had assumed, based on William's usual behavior, that he would readily agree to the proposal and carry it out diligently. He hadn't expected William to refuse so decisively.

"Why can't you do it?" Arcadio asked, his tone hardening.

"I only have three hundred men under me, and they're all pirates. Maintaining public order on land isn't exactly their forte. Besides, with so few people, how could we possibly manage the entire slums while also ensuring the safety of the noble districts?" William said, spreading his hands in exasperation.

Chapter 130

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 130: Coercion

Arcadio rose from his seat, pacing back and forth in thought before asking, "So, what do you want to do about it?"

"My manpower is far too limited. Unless you allow me to expand my forces, I can't possibly maintain order over such a large area," William replied, shaking his head. "Or, you could grant me command over other military units."

"Commanding other units is out of the question!" Arcadio rejected the idea outright. It wasn't because he understood the principle of power stemming from military control, but rather due to the pride of the nobility. William was merely a newly appointed knight—a minor one at that. Allowing him to command his own troops was one thing, but no other noble would ever agree to let him take control of their forces.

"You can expand your forces, but you'll still need to fund them yourself," Arcadio said after some consideration.

The construction of the walls was already on the agenda, and the kingdom had no funds to spare for William's military expenses. While Arcadio and the other nobles had money, they certainly weren't about to dip into their own pockets.

"Fund it myself?" William groaned. "I can handle three hundred men, but five hundred? A thousand? How am I supposed to manage that on my own?"

Arcadio's temper flared. "What did you say when you first sought to become a noble!?"

"Back then, it was just about putting on a show to deal with Germa 66," William muttered, shrinking back slightly as if intimidated by Arcadio's anger. He then added reluctantly in a low voice, "Fine, I'll fund it myself, but I'll need the authority to reform the military structure and expand my jurisdiction over public order."

"...Fine. I'll discuss it with the Minister of Internal Affairs," Arcadio said slowly, though he quickly added, "I don't care what you do with that authority, but your primary responsibility is to protect the royals and nobles."

Arcadio suspected that William's demands were a ploy to exploit his position for personal gain during the effort to restore order. However, given the kingdom's dire financial situation, he had no choice but to begrudgingly agree, though it left him feeling resentful.

"I understand. After all, I'm a noble now too," William said, his expression smug, as though reveling in his newfound status. "Also, apprehending criminals and maintaining public order isn't exactly my or my men's area of expertise. So, I'd like to establish a school to train a professional force."

Arcadio agreed to this proposal without much hesitation, as it appeared, on the surface, to be aimed at better fulfilling the task at hand.

"One more thing, sir," William said, glancing at Arcadio with a measured expression.

"What is it?"

"Have you considered using this opportunity to expand your liquor business and eliminate your competition?"

Arcadio frowned. "How?"

"By establishing a special police unit dedicated to investigating smuggling and illegal alcohol sales," William suggested.

Arcadio didn't respond immediately. He studied William for a moment before breaking into a smile. "And you'd use your men for this, I assume?"

William nodded naturally. "Just like when we cooperated at sea. You provide me with information on your competitors, I'll deal with them, and the confiscated liquor will go to you. We'll split the profits afterward."

Arcadio remained silent, unsure whether William's proposal stemmed from sheer greed for wealth or a desire for power, extending his reach into other areas of authority.

But given the current circumstances, Arcadio deliberated for a moment before ultimately nodding in agreement. "Alright."

The two discussed some finer details before William took the initiative to excuse himself and prepare to leave.

"Stolt!" Arcadio suddenly called out as William was about to depart. Without warning, he asked, "Was it you who killed Andre?"

William turned back, visibly startled. "Why would you say that? Why would I kill him?"

Arcadio stared intently into William's eyes. "He offended you, didn't he? He demoted you and your crew to mere militia."

William chuckled, shaking his head as if the notion were absurd. "Just because of that? My military expenses are entirely self-funded. Does it really matter whether we're militia or regular troops?"

He then let out a cold laugh. "If he had stood in the way of me becoming a noble, maybe I'd have taught him a lesson. But killing him? That's unnecessary."

Arcadio scrutinized William's expression as he spoke but found no signs of deceit. To ease the tension caused by his sudden accusation, he forced a faintly apologetic smile. "It seems I've been spooked by this case. I've been overly paranoid lately."

William appeared unfazed, even offering, "If you're concerned about security, I can assign two of my crew members to protect you."

"No need," Arcadio said with a dismissive wave and a smile. "Just have Clough return for now."

A flicker of thought crossed William's mind, but he nodded in agreement.

Once William had left, the faint smile on Arcadio's face vanished, replaced by a cold, stern expression. After a moment of contemplation, he summoned a servant and instructed, "Bring Aureliano here."

The servant bowed and left. Arcadio waited impatiently for what felt like an eternity before his only son, Aureliano, finally arrived in the reception room.

Seeing Aureliano reeking of alcohol in broad daylight, Arcadio's anger flared. He launched into a tirade, scolding his son harshly.

Despite being in his thirties, Aureliano behaved like a chastised child in front of his father, bowing his head and enduring the reprimand quietly.

When Arcadio finally tired of scolding, he gave his instructions: "Find time to arrange a meeting with the city sheriff, Dennis."

Aureliano was bewildered. "Father, that man is a notorious gambler. You've always forbidden me from associating with people like him."

"This is work," Arcadio said coldly. "Tell him to thoroughly investigate Andre's case. And..."

Arcadio paused before continuing, "...keep an eye on Stolt."

...

After Aureliano left, Arcadio paced the reception room, frowning as he pondered the sequence of events surrounding the case and William's behavior.

But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't pinpoint anything suspicious.

Inviting William into the kingdom's military had been Arcadio's own idea. The public order issues in the slums had existed long before Andre's death; it was only now, following the incident, that they were receiving attention.

Looking at the sequence of events, it seemed as though William had merely gone along with the flow from start to finish. The only questionable aspect was Andre's death.

Arcadio found it hard to believe that someone like William—whom he had always regarded as a coarse, short-sighted pirate—could have anticipated the nobles' reactions to the slum's public order issues and devised a plan accordingly. He could only convince himself that his suspicions were a result of overthinking.

Arcadio reasoned that his current unease stemmed from William's repeated demands, which were growing bolder as Arcadio's reliance on him increased.

But then again, from William's perspective as an ally, pursuing his own interests was perfectly normal.

Chapter 131

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 131: A Hundred Schemes

Arcadio wasn't sure how long he had been deep in thought, but when he finally came to, Clough had already arrived.

Although Clough was still nominally Arcadio's subordinate, the distance and estrangement between them felt even greater than that between William and Arcadio.

Arcadio forced a gentle smile and invited the somewhat reserved Clough to sit down, then instructed the butler to serve him tea.

"You've been working and living on a pirate ship for quite some time now," Arcadio said with a smile. "Have you ever thought about coming ashore?"

Clough paused briefly as he raised his teacup, while Arcadio continued, "Would you like to become an official of the kingdom? Perhaps even have a chance to become a noble?"

Arcadio watched with satisfaction as the previously reserved and indifferent Clough revealed an unmistakable look of desire upon hearing those words.

...

A few days later, several warships began docking one after another at the port of Kalmar City.

The other ships and crew members of the Morgan Pirates, who had been patrolling the seas under their control, had now all gathered in Kalmar City.

At the dock, Selkirk, Yasopp, and other officers who had been assigned elsewhere surrounded William, who had come to greet them.

"Captain, I have some matters to report," Selkirk said immediately upon seeing William.

"Is it about the docking fees?" William asked as he turned and began walking toward the city, not even looking back.

William had been operating in Kalmar City recently. After becoming a noble, he temporarily delegated the task of collecting fees from passing and docking ships within their territory to Selkirk.

"Many ships are unwilling to pay the fee," Selkirk said, keeping pace with William.

"Unwilling to pay?" William suddenly stopped in his tracks upon hearing this, turning to look at Selkirk and pointing to the curved blade at his waist. "Is the sword at your side, or the cannons on the ship, just for show?"

Selkirk hesitated. "Many of these merchant ships have ties to nobles from various kingdoms, so..."

"So what?" William's expression darkened.

William's authority on the ship had grown significantly. The Morgan Pirates were not run like Shanks' cooperative-style crew. William not only possessed the strongest combat power but also controlled personnel and finances. His word was law aboard the ship.

He wasn't just the captain of the Morgan Pirates; he was also the sole shareholder representing the pirates within the Four Seas Trading Company, as well as a stakeholder in Dampier's Arms Company. Even the officers couldn't challenge his authority.

Seeing William's displeasure, Selkirk, a veteran who had braved the Grand Line, grew uneasy and tried to explain. "I just thought that getting into conflicts with these nobles might make it harder for our crew to maintain a low profile."

"Acting on your own initiative," William said as he turned and continued walking toward the city. Just as Selkirk began to breathe a sigh of relief, William added, "Your job is to carry out my orders. Any trouble or consequences that arise are my responsibility. Your task is to execute without compromise!"

William was indeed dissatisfied. Though he often relied on cunning strategies, he was a leader who took full responsibility for his decisions. Within his team, he formulated the strategies, and any resulting issues or repercussions were his to bear. He would never shirk responsibility, even if problems arose, because it was he who had given the orders.

All his subordinates needed to do was execute his strategies. Yet Selkirk had failed even at that.

William had assumed that Selkirk, with his North Blue background and typically reserved demeanor, would be ruthless and efficient when carrying out tasks in the East Blue. But now it seemed that William hadn't fully understood him. The usually quiet former pirate captain occasionally acted with misplaced cleverness.

"Understood," Selkirk said, pressing his lips together.

William followed up with another question: "Which kingdom's ships are refusing to pay the fee?"

"One merchant captain claimed to be operating under a noble from the Goa Kingdom..."

"Sink any such ship on sight!" William interrupted. "What nonsense about Goa Kingdom nobles. I've made it clear: any ship that refuses to pay the fee will be sunk. There's no room for negotiation here."

"Understood," Selkirk said, nodding again without further argument.

As the two discussed business, the other officers of the Morgan Pirates followed silently behind. Although William didn't demand strict military discipline aboard his ship, his influence as their leader naturally fostered a sense of order among both the crew and the officers, making them far more disciplined than most other pirate crews.

Not far away, Dennis stood watching. As the city's sheriff, he was tasked with assisting William and his militia in restoring and maintaining order throughout Kalmar City.

He stared blankly at William and the officers of the Morgan Pirates trailing behind him. It wasn't until they approached that Dennis snapped out of his daze.

"Welcome, everyone. Since we'll be working closely together, let me, the local host, treat you all to a welcome feast," Dennis said cheerfully.

"No need," William replied with a polite smile, declining the offer.

He glanced back at the officers behind him and explained, "Our arrival has already caused quite a stir. To avoid any leaks, it's best to act quickly."

Dennis was taken aback. "Quickly? You mean now?"

"Of course."

As William spoke, he began assigning tasks, instructing the officers to split into groups of two or three, each leading a contingent of crew members to form multiple teams.

The officers who had remained by William's side, such as Harden and Aramis, had already been briefed on the targets they were to eliminate. With their guidance, there was no concern that the recently arrived Selkirk and others would be unclear about their objectives.

As the saying goes, there's no such thing as a thief who can evade capture forever. Since being officially tasked with handling Kalmar City's public order—particularly in the slums—William had immediately adopted an aggressive approach.

He had no interest in crime prevention or passive defense, which would consume too much manpower, resources, and energy. Instead, he aimed to expand his influence among the slum residents by eliminating the violent and criminal gangs that held sway over the area. These gangs, due to their environment and nature, wielded significant local influence and were potential competitors for regional control.

Violence was the cornerstone of the Morgan Pirates' survival and their greatest strength. William intended to use this opportunity to crush all opposition while simultaneously intimidating the local population.

With their tasks assigned, William and the members of the Morgan Pirates quickened their pace, heading toward the slums.

Chapter 132

Chapter 132: Thunderstrike

《One Piece：The True Codex》William quickened his pace, and the Morgan Pirates followed suit. Dennis hurriedly caught up with them.

"Are we really heading there now?" he stammered, his words slightly disjointed. "Shouldn't we prepare first? The slums are dangerous—there are plenty of criminals and even pirates hiding out there."

"Don't worry about our safety," William replied with a nonchalant smile. Back when Barbarossa was still alive, William had lived and fought in the slums as a mere crew member. To him now, neither the factions nor the individuals in this place posed any threat. "But you're free to go back; you don't have to follow us."

Dennis glanced back at the carefree and relaxed expressions of the Morgan Pirates' crew members, their confidence palpable. Gritting his teeth, he said, "No, I'm not afraid of danger. As the sheriff, it's my duty to go with you!"

Dennis was indeed a gambler at heart. Like Sherlock, he was just an ordinary man with no means to protect himself in a place like the slums, teeming with criminals. However, if they could truly wipe out most of the criminal gangs in the slums, it would be a significant achievement. He bet that William and his crew's confidence was not without reason.

...

The stench of garbage and wastewater from both the slums and the noble districts lingered in the air, forming an ever-present miasma.

Illegally constructed buildings stood crookedly, blocking sunlight and turning the area into a labyrinthine maze.

Inside an unassuming small building, the pungent smell of cheap alcohol overpowered the stench from outside. Groups of poorly dressed, weary-looking workers bustled about, while a few burly thugs stationed around the building played cards or chatted idly, occasionally casting wary glances out the windows.

This was an underground distillery, producing various low-quality alcoholic beverages. While Arcadio had already seized control of most of Navia Kingdom's underground liquor market, there were always a few stragglers eking out a living in hidden corners.

These remnants often operated in places like the slums, areas beyond Arcadio's full control, and were usually under the sway of local crime bosses or violent gangs.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Suddenly, there was a light knock on the door from outside. The thugs playing cards near the door exchanged glances and grabbed their weapons. In the slums, there was no law or order, and clashes between criminal gangs were commonplace. Back when Barbarossa had turned the slums upside down in his search for Zeff, not a single person had stepped forward to intervene. While that was partly due to Barbarossa's fearsome reputation, it also reflected the chaos of the area.

A burly man wielding a long blade approached the door. He peered through the peephole to see who was outside, but all he saw was darkness.

Puzzled, the man leaned closer to the peephole. Before he could straighten up, a gunshot rang out.

The darkness outside the peephole was suddenly illuminated, and a bullet shot through, piercing the man's eye and leaving a gruesome, bloody hole.

The man's body fell with a heavy thud, but before the sound had even faded, another bang echoed as the sturdy door was kicked open from the outside.

A figure darted into the building. Before the thugs inside could react, the intruder raised a finely crafted revolver. With one hand holding the gun and the other rapidly cocking the hammer, the room was filled with the rapid, popping sound of gunfire, so fast that the shots seemed to merge into one continuous roar.

Three consecutive shots, three thugs still clutching their weapons, all dropped to the ground simultaneously, each with a bullet hole squarely in the center of their foreheads.

The gunman whistled and adjusted the headband tied across his forehead, which bore the name "YASOPP."

This was none other than Yasopp, an officer of the Morgan Pirates.

Some of the workers who had witnessed Yasopp's deadly precision screamed and bolted for the back door.

At the staircase opposite the entrance, a flurry of footsteps echoed. Two thugs with brutish faces appeared from the second floor. However, before they could even get a clear look at Yasopp, two bullets found their marks, sending them tumbling lifelessly down the stairs.

Yasopp showed no signs of tension, as if he were merely on a leisurely stroll. He casually walked toward the staircase, ejecting spent cartridges from his revolver and reloading with practiced ease.

The old wooden stairs creaked with each step he took. Just as Yasopp was about to reach the second floor, his ears twitched. From behind a wooden wall around the corner, he heard the faint sound of suppressed breathing.

A smirk spread across Yasopp's face. He holstered his revolver and pulled out a bolt-action rifle slung across his back. Aiming at the source of the breathing, he pulled the trigger.

While the bolt-action rifle had a slower rate of fire, its accuracy and penetrating power far surpassed that of a revolver. The pointed bullet tore through the wooden wall, followed by a muffled groan and the sound of a body collapsing to the floor.

Yasopp lovingly caressed the rifle's walnut stock, savoring the intoxicating scent of gunpowder and gun oil. For a moment, it seemed to mask the acrid stench of alcohol that permeated the building.

The interior of the building grew increasingly chaotic, while outside, a group of Morgan Pirates had already surrounded the premises.

Leading them was Diego, who sniffed the air and waved his hand. The pirates immediately charged forward.

...

Two streets away in the slums.

Harden moved like a leopard, sprinting through a hail of bullets. From the building ahead, countless guns were trained on him, but the speed of his movements rendered their aim useless.

In the blink of an eye, Harden reached the front door. Lowering his shoulder, he barreled into the door with unstoppable momentum.

The makeshift barricade of debris piled behind the door proved utterly ineffective, shattering under Harden's brute force. Inside, Harden's body rebounded slightly before he lunged into the midst of several burly men on the first floor. With a single, brutal swing of his blade, he decapitated one of them, then used the headless corpse as a shield.

Thud, thud. Several muffled gunshots followed. The panicked enemies had poor aim, and the few bullets that did hit Harden struck the corpse he held in front of him.

Taking advantage of their need to reload, Harden hurled the corpse at one man and roared as he pounced on another—a young man clutching a curved blade, his face pale with fear.

Harden's voice, raspy and guttural from severe vocal cord damage, sounded like the growl of a wild beast.

...

Similar battles erupted throughout the slums, shattering the area's usual silence and plunging it into chaos.

The local gangs, pirates in hiding, and other criminal organizations quickly received word: the kingdom's newly appointed militia captain was coming for them!

Chapter 133

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 133: The Wolf Among Sheep

The entire network of criminal forces in the slums was thrown into turmoil. Some chose to flee, while others decided to wait and see.

Dennis, fully aware of William's formidable strength, had stuck close to him ever since they entered the slums. William, for his part, didn't mind the sheriff tagging along, as he didn't want Dennis to meet an untimely end here.

To William, the criminal factions in the slums were no more than flies—numerous, but insignificant. There was no need for him to personally get involved. After all, the reason he had assembled such a crew of pirates was precisely to handle situations like this.

William led Dennis on what seemed like a leisurely tour, checking on the various squads of Morgan Pirates as they carried out their missions. By the time they arrived at each location, the battles were mostly over. The Morgan Pirates had suffered almost no casualties, and the corpses being piled up in the open spaces were all those of their enemies.

Eventually, William and Dennis arrived at the underground distillery that Yasopp and Diego had taken control of. In front of the small building housing the distillery, a group of workers sat on the ground with their hands on their heads, guarded by several Morgan Pirates. Meanwhile, other workers were being driven by Diego's men to carry out barrels of liquor from the building and pile them in the open space outside.

Yasopp paid no attention to the workers. He sat atop a stack of barrels, calmly cleaning his revolver. When he noticed William and Dennis approaching, his gaze briefly swept over the visibly nervous sheriff before returning to his gun.

A few of the workers glanced around furtively when the pirates weren't looking, only to quickly lower their heads again.

William cast a brief glance at the workers crouching on the ground before walking toward the barrels. However, as he passed by the workers, one of them—a burly man in worker's clothing with a seemingly honest face—suddenly sprang into action.

It had been mentioned before that William, when properly dressed, could easily pass as a noble. With his elegant demeanor and polished appearance, few would suspect that he was a pirate captain.

Having spent considerable time in Kalmar City recently, mingling with Arcadio and other nobles, William had taken great care to maintain his appearance. Unlike his days aboard the pirate ship, he now dressed impeccably, his suit spotless and his hair neatly slicked back.

To the casual observer, William's composed demeanor and the obvious respect shown to him by the Morgan Pirates made it natural to mistake him for a high-ranking noble with no combat ability.

If William had been alone, his calm attitude and the katana at his waist might have given a would-be attacker pause. However, with Dennis nervously glancing around and fidgeting beside him, the sheriff's unease made William appear less intimidating.

The disguised thug, seizing the opportunity, reached for his belt buckle and drew a short dagger that gleamed coldly in the dim light. With a vicious expression, he lunged at William, intending to take the noble-looking leader hostage and force this armed group—whose true nature he had yet to discern—into hesitation.

The thug planned to first wound William's shoulder to intimidate him. However, as he lunged, William merely turned his head slightly, casting a casual glance at the attacker. Then, with lightning speed, William's right hand shot out, his index and middle fingers pinching the blade of the dagger mid-strike.

The thug froze, his body trembling in shock. He had never imagined that this seemingly pampered noble would stop his attack with just two fingers.

Stunned, the thug hesitated for a moment. William, finding the situation hardly worth his effort, didn't bother to retaliate. Instead, Diego, standing nearby, had already reacted. With a flick of his left hand, he lifted the hem of his coat, revealing a belt lined with throwing knives. In a swift motion, he drew one and hurled it.

Thud! The knife struck the thug squarely in the temple, its force so great that it lifted the man's body off the ground before he collapsed in a heap.

Diego approached with a grim expression, planting a foot on the corpse as he bent down to retrieve his knife.

"Captain, this was my oversight," Diego said, lowering his head apologetically as he stood before William.

William simply nodded, not offering any reprimand.

Standing beside William, Dennis looked as though he had been struck by lightning.

Thomason's earlier deductions echoed in Dennis's mind, his thoughts slowing as if time itself had been stretched. His gaze instinctively fell on the blood-stained knife in Diego's hand.

"The bodies of the fallen guards all had small, penetrating wounds in vital areas," Thomason had said. "My preliminary conclusion is that they were caused by throwing knives..."

Dennis's eyes shifted to the thug's corpse, its temple pierced cleanly by Diego's blade.

"The user's skill is exceptional—not just precise, but powerful enough to easily penetrate skulls..."

Finally, Dennis's gaze settled on Diego's short stature.

"And I suspect the killer isn't very tall..."

A shiver ran through Dennis's body. In his increasingly dazed state, he watched as Diego casually wiped the blood from his knife with his sleeve before tucking it back into his belt.

In an instant, the image of William in Dennis's mind transformed from that of a cultured gentleman to a dangerous predator—a wolf ready to devour its prey. The smile William often wore now seemed to Dennis like the sinister grin of a beast.

The open space around them suddenly felt suffused with an invisible, suffocating tension.

Dennis's face grew pale, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. He glanced around discreetly, his paranoia painting every member of the Morgan Pirates as a potential threat. Yasopp, sitting on a barrel and cleaning his gun; Diego, overseeing the workers; William, inspecting the barrels—all seemed to know his thoughts, their every glance filled with malice, ready to silence him at any moment.

"What's wrong? You look pale," William asked, turning away from the confiscated goods to look at Dennis with a smile. "Did that scare you just now?"

Dennis pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow. The sight of William's smile made his heart race like a drum, and his own smile turned stiff. "N-no, not at all."

His eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. Though he couldn't be certain that William was responsible for Andre's death, the possibility alone was enough to fill him with dread.

Dennis had already witnessed the ferocity of William's crew. The local gangs in the slums were no match for them, falling one by one with ease. And Dennis was all too familiar with the condition of Andre's corpse.

If it truly was William's men who had killed Andre, then this group wasn't just powerful—they were ruthless. All Dennis wanted now was to get as far away from them as possible. He had no intention of reporting them or attempting to apprehend them.

No one in the kingdom could stand against William and his crew. Reporting to the Marines was the only option, but even then, it would take time for them to respond. In that time, William could kill Dennis countless times over.

Forcing himself to suppress his panic, Dennis casually moved toward the edge of the open space. However, before he could take another step, William, without even turning around, said, "This isn't the noble district. Don't wander off. I can't guarantee your safety."

To Dennis, William's words were ambiguous, teetering between a simple warning and a veiled threat.

Dennis glanced at William's back, then at Yasopp cleaning his gun and Diego watching the workers. Finally, he looked at the nearby street corner, so close yet so far, and hesitated.

Chapter 134

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 134: Twists and Turns

William paid little attention to Dennis, the noble-born sheriff who had been visibly nervous ever since they entered the slums. It seemed Dampier was right—Dennis only displayed courage in fleeting moments of gambling, but otherwise was as timid as a mouse.

After inspecting the confiscated goods from the underground distillery, William led his crew out of the slums. He selected a few men and brought along some of the liquor and workers as evidence and witnesses, heading straight for the estate of Arcadio, the Minister of Finance.

Arcadio had been waiting at home for news from William. When William arrived, Arcadio quickly examined the evidence and witnesses he had brought, discussed their statements with him, and then hurriedly set off with the group to the royal palace to seek an audience with Norton I.

By now, the sky had already darkened. If Arcadio weren't a trusted confidant of Norton I and a key figure in the kingdom, it would have been impossible to secure an audience with the king at this hour.

Even so, when the two of them finally stood before Norton I, they noticed that the king's expression was far from pleasant.

And when Arcadio presented the items he had brought to Norton I, the king's face darkened even further.

The items were contraband—alcohol, which Norton I despised and had banned from being sold in the kingdom.

"Your Majesty!" Arcadio exclaimed, his acting skills rivaling William's. With a look of alarm, he said, "Stolt and his men uncovered something shocking while apprehending criminals in the slums."

"Some lawless criminals have been secretly brewing and selling alcoholic beverages right under your nose. Your prohibition decree has been reduced to mere words in the royal capital!" Arcadio lamented loudly, "Where is the dignity of the state? Where is the majesty of the king?"

Norton I's expression grew even darker as he turned to William, who had remained silent. "Is this true?"

William glanced at the seasoned actor Arcadio, who was still feigning grief, but he wasn't one to be outdone. With a serious expression, he solemnly replied:

"It is true. My men and I destroyed multiple criminal hideouts in the slums and discovered several underground distilleries among them. It appears that your prohibition decree has not only failed to achieve its intended purpose but has also become a means for these criminal groups to profit. Furthermore, due to the unsanitary conditions and questionable materials used in these underground distilleries, the safety of the alcohol they produce is highly concerning."

Norton I had already left his throne and was pacing slowly on the elevated platform. As William described the situation, the king's face grew increasingly grim. He felt his authority had been undermined.

Norton I then summoned the workers that Arcadio and William had brought, who were being held outside the palace gates. From their testimonies, he confirmed that Arcadio and William's claims were indeed true.

This revelation enraged Norton I. As the supreme ruler of the kingdom, he had issued the prohibition decree for the health of his subjects, yet there were still lowly criminals defying his orders and breaking the law.

In a fit of fury, Norton I ordered the workers who had been interrogated to be taken out and hanged. Neither Arcadio nor William spared a glance at the hapless workers being dragged out of the palace like dead dogs.

Seeing the storm brewing on Norton I's face, Arcadio subtly signaled to William with his eyes. Understanding the cue, William stepped forward, bowed, and reported:

"Your Majesty, based on the current situation, it seems that the underground distilleries in the slums are not just isolated cases but are numerous and well-hidden within various buildings. Furthermore..."

William paused, adopting a hesitant expression.

"And furthermore?" Norton I asked in a deep voice.

Arcadio stepped forward at this moment. "I believe Stolt was about to say that these underground distilleries may have protectors. Otherwise, how could they dare to so brazenly defy your decree?"

Seeing Norton I's astonished and furious reaction, Arcadio continued, "Your Majesty, based on the evidence we have, it is unrealistic to rely solely on Stolt and his men to investigate this matter. They excel in combat but are not skilled in conducting investigations. Therefore, I propose establishing a specialized police department to investigate the prohibition violations, uphold your authority, and uncover the audacious individuals who dare to defy your benevolence and grace by violating the prohibition law!"

Norton I pondered for a moment before asking Arcadio, "Do you have any suggestions for the leadership of this new department?"

William glanced at Arcadio upon hearing this, only to see the latter pause briefly before replying:

"If there are protectors within the royal capital shielding these criminals, then the new department's leadership should ideally have minimal ties to the existing police force."

"Can't Stolt assemble and lead this department?" Norton I suggested, sounding somewhat reluctant to deal with the hassle.

"No," Arcadio replied firmly. "The two departments must be kept separate."

After speaking, Arcadio noticed William's expression falter momentarily. Though William quickly masked his reaction, a trace of displeasure still showed.

This was not what William and Arcadio had originally agreed upon. William's initial plan was to lead this prohibition police department, with Arcadio providing intelligence on competitors for William to investigate, target, and even frame—just as they had done on the seas.

However, Arcadio's sharp political instincts quickly made him realize that this time was different from their previous dealings on the seas. This new investigative department was of great importance—not only could it be used to suppress economic and commercial rivals, but it could also serve as a tool to strike at political enemies.

Thus, Arcadio had no intention of allowing William to control this department. Instead, he decided to insert his own people into its leadership. Moreover, the individual he proposed as the leader would barely be enough to keep William from objecting.

"This department must remain independent to ensure impartial law enforcement," Arcadio continued. "As for the department's head, I have an excellent candidate in mind."

"Who?"

"Kuro!"

William pressed his lips together, his expression visibly sour.

...

While Norton I was meeting with William and Arcadio, Dennis was at Dampier's underground bar.

Dennis didn't know the exact nature of the relationship between Dampier and William; he only knew that the two were acquainted. Hoping to glean some insight, Dennis sought out Dampier to learn more about what kind of person William truly was.

Dennis was desperate to understand why William had killed Andre—a mystery that had been troubling him deeply. Even more pressing was the question of what William would do if he discovered that Dennis knew the truth.

Would he deal with Dennis as ruthlessly as he had with Andre?

Chapter 135

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 135: Imprisonment

"Why would you risk going to a place like the slums when you don't even have the ability to defend yourself?"

Dampier poured Dennis a glass of wine and advised him, "You're not like Stolt and the others. There's no need for you to risk your life like they do, and even if you wanted to, you couldn't."

Dennis gave a bitter smile, his face filled with helplessness. "If I don't take a chance now, I won't get another one. I'm already thirty, yet I've achieved nothing. Not only have I failed to advance in rank or position, I've been steadily falling behind."

"Just the other day, Aureliano, that spoiled son of Arcadio, asked to meet with me. We're the same age, yet he treated me like a subordinate while asking for my help. And I had to act like it was an honor. It's unbearable."

Dampier tried to console him. "He's the only son of the Minister of Finance. When Arcadio dies, he'll inherit the title of Count. How could you ever compete with that?"

"And what about Stolt?" Dennis took a large gulp of wine, his voice filled with frustration. "He looks so young—what, twenty? Yet he's already on par with me, maybe even more powerful and impressive."

With a loud clink, Dennis slammed the empty glass onto the table and said bitterly, "I'd rather bet everything to escape this mundane life, to be part of something big and achieve fame and fortune. But I don't even have the chance!"

Dampier's eyes flickered, but he said nothing. He silently refilled Dennis's glass, his expression unreadable.

After venting his frustrations, Dennis began to subtly probe Dampier for information about William.

What Dennis didn't realize was that Dampier's relationship with William was far deeper than his own. To Dampier, William was far more important than the city's sheriff. Dennis's poorly disguised probing immediately raised Dampier's suspicions.

Dampier, ever sharp, quickly sensed that something was amiss. Though he remained outwardly calm, he subtly turned the conversation around, extracting a wealth of useful information from Dennis instead.

After chatting for a while and drinking quite a bit, Dampier excused himself, claiming he needed to use the restroom. He left the private room, leaving behind a visibly intoxicated Dennis.

Once outside, Dampier turned to the two burly guards stationed at the door and ordered, "Watch him. No one goes in or out without my permission."

The guards responded with a respectful "Yes, sir," and Dampier quickly walked away.

...

After leaving the royal palace, William bid a cold farewell to Arcadio, who remained behind, stroking his beard with a smug expression as he watched William's figure recede into the distance.

William returned directly to his newly purchased estate in the noble district. Inside, Harden, Aramis, and other officers of the Morgan Pirates were resting. When William arrived, they immediately gathered around to inquire about the outcome of his meeting.

Upon hearing that Arcadio had recommended Kuro to lead the newly established department and proposed making it an independent entity, the sharp-minded Aramis quickly pieced things together. He realized that Arcadio didn't want to give William control over the department. By appointing Kuro, Arcadio had found a way to appease William while still keeping the department under his influence. Though Kuro was technically a member of the Morgan Pirates, he was ultimately loyal to Arcadio. It was a clever play on words, but Arcadio had technically kept his promise—the department would still be led by someone from the Morgan Pirates.

After Aramis explained this, the others, including Harden, quickly grasped the situation.

"Captain, just give the order," Harden said, his anger boiling over as he glared at William. "Say the word, and I'll take out that damn Count and that traitor Kuro right now! No wonder he didn't show up today—he must've gone crawling back to his old master!"

William waved his hand with a smile, his demeanor completely relaxed in front of his trusted officers. There was no trace of the stiffness he had shown earlier with Arcadio. "If we kill Arcadio now, all our efforts will have been for nothing."

William was about to say more to calm Harden down when someone informed him that Dampier had come to see him.

Though puzzled, William personally went to the gate to greet Dampier and escorted him to the living room. A few officers from the Morgan Pirates followed them inside.

Dampier hesitated, glancing at the officers, his meaning clear.

William, however, said, "I trust everyone here. Whatever you can say to me, you can say to them."

Hearing this, Dampier saw no point in playing coy. "Arcadio has Dennis secretly investigating you."

"Oh?" William's smile gradually faded. "And where did you hear this?"

"Dennis told me himself. He's under my control now," Dampier replied gravely. "Arcadio had his son, Aureliano, communicate with Dennis. But Dennis was so put off by that spoiled brat's attitude that he didn't fully follow through with the Count's instructions."

"However..." Dampier tapped the table with his fingers. "Dennis somehow got wind of the idea that you were involved in Andre's death."

William closed his eyes, remaining silent for a moment before exhaling deeply. "You really can't underestimate anyone, can you? Even a cowardly gambling addict has his uses."

"You've got him under control?" William asked, looking at Dampier.

Dampier nodded and added, "I've already extracted some information from him. He only recently started suspecting you and hasn't had a chance to share his thoughts with anyone else. He came straight to me to dig for more information about you."

"Arcadio probably just has his guard up. Today's maneuver with Kuro was his way of regaining some ground. It shouldn't be a big problem." William's fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of the sofa as he muttered to himself, "But you can never be too careful. Who knows how tight-lipped that gambler really is..."

After a moment, as if coming to a decision, William began issuing orders.

"Yasopp, Aramis, take a few men and keep an eye on Arcadio's estate. Report any unusual activity to me via Den Den Mushi. Yasopp, make sure to bring your rifle."

"Diego, Sherlock is still in the city. Find him and bring him back to the ship. Tell the crew to stay on high alert. If necessary, secure the docks and ensure the ship is ready to set sail at a moment's notice."

"Selkirk, take some men to the city gates. Likewise, secure them if needed."

"Harden, keep watch near Dennis's home and monitor his family."

As William issued commands, each officer responded loudly upon hearing their name and quickly left to carry out their tasks.

In no time, the room was empty, save for William and Dampier.

In front of Dampier, William used a Den Den Mushi to call Tony, instructing him to locate Nezumi and Gin.

Throughout this process, William maintained a stern expression, and Dampier remained silent.

On the other end of the line, it took Tony over ten minutes to find Nezumi.

After speaking with Nezumi, William's expression remained serious, but his tone became noticeably enthusiastic, a shift that left Dampier quietly marveling.

Chapter 136

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 136: Treasonous Ambitions

Over the Den Den Mushi, William extended an invitation to Nezumi and Gin to come to Kalmar City. He explained that during their crackdown on criminals in the slums, they had captured some pirates with bounties on their heads. Since keeping the credit for themselves was of no use, they might as well gift it to their "closest friends" in the Marines.

In his subsequent conversation with Gin, the two exchanged veiled information. Once William confirmed that Roy had shown no unusual behavior recently, he ended the call.

The reason for William's meticulous planning and extreme caution was simple: he fully understood the gravity of what he was about to undertake. Rebellion—whether in his past life or this world—was a concept that struck fear into the hearts of men.

The Navia Kingdom's feudal system was endorsed and upheld by the World Government, as the very existence of the Celestial Dragons represented the extreme embodiment of such a system. To threaten or undermine this order was to challenge the very foundation of the World Government's rule. This was why William proceeded with such caution, ensuring that any potential threats were quashed before they could even take root.

After hanging up the Den Den Mushi, William turned to Dampier, who had remained silent throughout. "To be honest, I'm a bit flattered. You went so far as to imprison an old acquaintance, the city's sheriff, just to tip me off. If this escalates, you might find it hard to survive in this city—or even this kingdom."

Dampier chuckled. "Dennis doesn't have much going for him, but his gambling spirit is something to admire. He has the resolve and courage to stake his life and fortune on a bet. It's just that... his judgment is lacking."

"Whether it was going straight to Arcadio after discovering your secret, or confronting you directly to reveal Arcadio's instructions, either would have been a gamble. But he failed to see the bigger picture," Dampier said, shaking his head as if pitying Dennis. "Perhaps the main reason is that he didn't grasp the significance of Andre's death. He couldn't see how helping or betraying you would benefit him."

"And you? Do you see it clearly?"

"Andre's death has already made the nobles' distrust of the commoners blatantly obvious. I've heard they're planning to impose additional taxes on the commoners and build walls. Such actions will only escalate tensions. Combined with the fear instilled by Andre's death, the nobles will come to rely even more on the strength you and your men possess. Moreover, by walling themselves off, these fools are essentially ceding control of everything outside the noble district. The only thing maintaining their authority and status is the presence of the World Government."

Dampier gestured toward the Den Den Mushi. "But now, the representative of the World Government in this region—the 16th Marine Branch—is infiltrated by your people. Let me guess: you're grooming a commander who is aligned with you? Bold and visionary!"

"If this plan succeeds, who in this kingdom could stand against you? The areas outside the noble district will be your domain. You could even incite the populace to force the king to abdicate. Without your name on the World Government's bounty list, and with the Marines of the 16th Branch refusing to report your pirate activities, you, as a noble of Navia Kingdom, would appear to be acting entirely within the rules of the World Government. They'd have no grounds to intervene."

Leaning forward, Dampier emphasized his point. "A year ago, you were a nobody in my eyes. Now, I call you Captain. And in the future? Will I have to address you as Your Majesty the King?"

William listened quietly as Dampier spoke, his expression unreadable.

Dampier had guessed much of his plan but lacked the full picture due to limited information—such as the role of the prohibition police.

It wasn't until Dampier finished speaking that William asked, "A king? Don't you think such an idea is overly ambitious for a pirate?"

"Daydreaming without preparation or action—that's overly ambitious. But achieving everything you've accomplished so far? That's not a dream," Dampier countered. "The World Government has existed for 800 years, maintaining the Celestial Dragons' status and preserving this rigid social hierarchy. Its member nations are inevitably affected by this system, benefiting a group of pigs fattened by the status quo. In the past, few dared to think or act otherwise. But if someone were to break free and open their eyes, how could the low fences of this pigsty stop them?"

William exhaled deeply. Dampier's sharp and scornful words caught him off guard. As a transmigrator and a modern man, William inherently despised the feudal systems and aristocratic ways of this world. Yet he hadn't expected Dampier, a native of this world, to harbor such "treasonous" thoughts.

"Did you come to these conclusions gradually? Why didn't you consider turning me in?"

Dampier was silent for a moment before replying, "There's little about Dennis that I admire, but I do respect his unwillingness to settle for mediocrity."

"I believe..." Dampier leaned back into the sofa, tilting his head to watch a small bug scuttling aimlessly on the floor. "Life is short. But if you choose to live it humbly, it can feel unbearably long."

William mulled over this statement before saying, "I'm planning to propose a military reorganization plan in the near future. Before Andre died, he criticized the military system after losing a competition at the palace. His death has given his complaints unexpected weight, which I can use as a pretext. When the time comes, I'll establish a General Staff Department and invite you to join."

A faint smile appeared on Dampier's lips. "Then I'll present my first token of loyalty. I'll handle Dennis. Having the city's sheriff on your side will only benefit your plans."

...

At Arcadio's estate, Kuro sat in the reception room, his demeanor one of utmost humility and obedience as he listened to Arcadio's instructions.

Arcadio had appointed Kuro as the head of the new police department to keep it firmly under his control. The department would serve as his attack dog, biting whoever he commanded.

"You must understand," Arcadio said casually, "that just as I can place you in this position, I can replace you. You're not a noble yet, so your position is unstable and lacks legitimacy. But as long as you perform well, work diligently, and follow orders, I'll propose to His Majesty that you be granted the title you deserve."

Hearing this, Kuro immediately set down his teacup, stood up from the sofa, and replied respectfully, "Understood. I will follow your orders and carry out your tasks to the best of my ability."

Arcadio smiled in satisfaction. Kuro's response had not disappointed him.

Kuro was quite tall, and as he stood, he happened to glance out the reception room window. His eyes caught sight of a familiar figure with fluffy hair passing by in the distance, causing him to pause.

"What is it?" Arcadio asked, noticing Kuro's expression as he sipped his tea.

Though puzzled, Kuro quickly masked his thoughts and smiled obsequiously at Arcadio. "I was just imagining the possibility of moving to the noble district in the future. It feels almost unreal."

Chapter 137

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 137: Double-Faced Alliances

Upon arriving in Kalmar City aboard a Marine vessel, Nezumi and Gin were greeted by William, who handed over the captured and slain bounty targets to them. These criminals were to be presented to Marine headquarters as a contribution, furthering their standing within the organization.

Through his conversation with the two, William confirmed that Roy showed no suspicious behavior. This was a relief, as William knew that if Arcadio ever decided to turn against him, he would undoubtedly align with Roy and leverage the Marines' strength.

Nezumi was visibly pleased with the arrangement, but Gin appeared dissatisfied, especially in the presence of other Marine soldiers. Nezumi had already been promoted to the rank of Major, and these low-bounty criminals were of little use to him now. They would have been more beneficial to Gin, but since William, as their original captor, had not intervened in the distribution, Nezumi claimed the lion's share. As Gin's superior, Nezumi left him no choice but to comply.

After returning to the base, Gin parted ways with Nezumi, visibly displeased. Now that he had risen to the rank of officer, he was no longer as dependent on Nezumi as he had been as a mere soldier. He could express his dissatisfaction more freely.

Shortly after arriving at his quarters, Gin was informed that the base's commanding officer, Colonel Roy, wanted to see him.

Gin maintained an impassive demeanor as he followed his escort to Roy's office. Upon entering, he was surprised to find the man holding the highest authority in the base sitting on a small stool, meticulously polishing his leather shoes.

Standing beside Roy was his trusted aide, Captain Heller, who handed him tools as needed.

Roy, seated sideways to the door, glanced at Gin out of the corner of his eye as he entered. With a casual gesture, he pointed to another small stool nearby. "Sit."

The tone carried an implicit command.

Gin saluted smartly before awkwardly taking a seat on the stool, placing his hands on his knees and remaining silent.

Roy spared him a brief glance. "I heard you had some disagreements with Major Nezumi?"

Gin's heart sank. It was clear that Roy had placed informants around Nezumi and himself.

"No, sir," Gin denied.

"No?" Roy scoffed, returning his attention to his shoes. "Nezumi is a gluttonous fool. Spend enough time with him, and you'll see his true nature—greedy and utterly lacking self-awareness. It's perfectly normal to have conflicts with him. Getting along with him, now that would be abnormal. Don't you agree?"

Gin pursed his lips, feeling awkward. "Sir, speaking ill of one's superior isn't in line with Marine discipline."

"Remember this," Roy said, setting down the shoe brush and leather shoes and fixing his gaze on Gin. "In the entire 16th Branch, you have only one superior—and that's me. Understand?"

"...Understood, sir!"

"Nezumi can manage himself, but his family's influence doesn't extend far enough to interfere with my officers in the 16th Branch," Roy continued, resuming his shoe polishing. "I hear you're eager to transfer to Marine headquarters in the Grand Line? That requires a recommendation from the base's commanding officer. Nezumi can't help you with that."

Gin remained silent for a moment before repeating, "Understood, sir!"

Roy nodded in satisfaction, though it was unclear whether it was due to Gin's attitude or his now-polished shoes. "I also hear you're from the same hometown as Stolt?"

Gin froze for a moment, then hesitated before replying awkwardly, "If you don't want me to continue associating with them, sir..."

"No, maintain contact," Roy said meaningfully. "But if Nezumi or Stolt show any unusual behavior, report it to me."

Gin agreed readily, and Roy spent some time reinforcing his authority before dismissing him.

After Captain Heller closed the door behind Gin, he turned to Roy. "He's deeply involved with Stolt and his group. He's not trustworthy."

"Did I say I trusted him? He's just a pawn," Roy said, slipping on his freshly polished shoes and admiring himself in a full-length mirror. "I'm simply giving him a nudge, ensuring he reports to me whether he has something to say or not. Besides, if you were in Gin's shoes, constantly overshadowed by someone like Nezumi, would you be content?"

Roy smirked at Heller's lingering doubts, catching his reflection in the mirror. "I'm the highest-ranking officer in this base. Stolt is just a pirate. If Gin has any sense, he'll know which side to choose."

Roy's grin widened as he noticed Heller's hesitation. "Even if Gin is foolish enough to side with Stolt and follow the pirate's path to the bitter end, it doesn't matter. It just means I'll shift my focus from pressuring Gin to pressuring Stolt. Bit by bit, I'll push him until he can't hold out any longer."

...

After leaving Roy's office and ensuring no one was watching, Gin took out a Den Den Mushi and called William, relaying the details of his conversation with Roy.

"I think Roy's suspicions are growing. I wouldn't be surprised if he makes a move against us soon. Why don't we strike first?" Gin suggested.

"No," William replied. "Nezumi is still a Major. If we kill Roy now, the Marines will likely send a high-ranking stranger to replace him. We can't afford to eliminate two consecutive commanding officers in such a short time—it would be far too suspicious."

After pondering for a moment, William added, "Roy won't act immediately. He still has to consider Arcadio's stance. But keep an eye on the base's armory, especially the movements of Seastone weapons. Be prepared to act at any moment, and if possible, replace the Seastone weapons before we make our move."

...

William, Colonel Roy, and Count Arcadio—three supposed allies—each harbored their own schemes and calculations. Despite the fragile nature of their alliance, they managed to maintain it for nearly a year.

At the beginning of the Sea Calendar Year 1510, in a mansion in High Town within the Goa Kingdom, the sound of a vase shattering echoed from a room on the second floor, followed by a string of curses. Servants passing through the corridor tread lightly, careful not to make any noise.

Outside the room, a well-dressed butler took a deep breath before knocking on the door. After the noise inside ceased, he announced loudly, "Sir, Bluejam has arrived at the estate."

"Let him in!"

The voice from inside carried an irritated tone, prompting the butler to hastily fetch the man waiting at the estate's entrance, wasting no time.

After announcing his arrival again, the door opened from within, revealing a pale, corpulent middle-aged nobleman. He glanced at the two men outside before dismissing the butler with a wave and forcing a smile at the other man. "Captain Bluejam, please come in."

The man addressed as Bluejam was tall and burly, his skin darkened by years of exposure to the elements. His casual attire starkly contrasted with the nobleman's formal wear and the butler's meticulous appearance. Despite his efforts to suppress it, his face remained visibly fierce. He grinned at the nobleman, revealing a mouthful of crooked teeth.

It was obvious—he was a pirate.

Bluejam, with his unsightly appearance and his Blue Sapphire Pirates, was infamous near the Goa Kingdom, much like William's Morgan Pirates near Navia Kingdom.

Unlike William, however, Bluejam genuinely aspired to become a noble. While William's desire for a noble title was largely a facade, Bluejam's yearning was entirely genuine.

Chapter 138

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 138: Bluejam

The reason Bluejam had been summoned was simple: the waters surrounding the Navia Kingdom had effectively fallen under the control of William and his Morgan Pirates. Any merchant ship wishing to trade in the area—or even just pass through—was required to pay a significant toll.

The toll fees varied depending on the nature and profitability of the ships. Of course, there had been numerous incidents where ships attempted to underpay by using disguises or falsifying their ledgers. To address such issues, William had even established a dedicated department to investigate and resolve these disputes.

For ships that merely tried to cheat the system, William usually issued warnings or employed intimidation. However, for those that outright refused to pay, William's orders were clear: sink them all.

After being reprimanded by William for a previous mistake, Selkirk became meticulous in his duties. One such incident involved Count Pere, a noble from the Goa Kingdom similar in rank to Count Arcadio. When Pere's merchant ships refused to pay the toll, Selkirk followed orders and sank them without hesitation.

Upon receiving the news, Count Pere was furious. Seeking revenge against the Morgan Pirates, he turned to a relatively infamous pirate crew in the waters near the Goa Kingdom: the Blue Sapphire Pirates, led by Captain Bluejam.

The collaboration between nobles and pirates, offering mutual protection, was not unique to William and Barbarossa. Bluejam and his crew operated under a similar model, though their ties with the nobles ran even deeper.

Bluejam often handled the dirty work for the nobles of High Town in the Goa Kingdom. Beyond seeking the protection of the kingdom, his ultimate ambition was to become a noble himself.

Count Pere exploited this desire, hinting that he would speak highly of Bluejam in this matter, thus convincing the pirate captain—who had some reputation and strength in the region—to go to war with another major pirate crew for the sake of a hollow promise of nobility.

Although Bluejam was blinded by the allure of a noble title, some of his crew members remained clear-headed.

"Captain, the pirate crew we're targeting is strong," his navigator warned bluntly. "They were formerly the Red-Beard Pirates. After 'Red-Beard' Barbarossa was killed by their new captain, the crew was restructured and renamed. Both the crew's overall strength and that of their captain, who killed Barbarossa, are not to be underestimated."

"There are so many rumors—who knows which are true and which are false?" Bluejam said, rubbing his chin. "I've heard that Barbarossa was killed by the local Marines. That's what the nobles of the Goa Kingdom told me as well."

The circumstances surrounding Barbarossa's death had indeed been subject to strange rumors. The official narrative was that he had been killed by Colonel Roy of the 16th Marine Branch, a story widely accepted among the Marines and the upper echelons of the kingdom.

However, many of the older pirates aboard the Morgan Pirates' ship knew the truth. Loose-lipped and prone to boasting in taverns, they had inevitably leaked details about how William had defied his superior and killed Barbarossa. As a result, this version of events was more commonly believed among the general populace, though it lacked concrete evidence and was considered less credible compared to the official account.

Hearing Bluejam's words, some of his crew members wanted to voice further concerns, but Bluejam waved them off impatiently. "What kind of pirates are we if we're so timid?"

The navigator tried to argue, "Even if the rumors are false, that's still their territory. I'm worried..."

"We won't attack them head-on," Bluejam interrupted with a sly grin. "Count Pere said we could use the merchant guild's flags and ships. We'll disguise ourselves as ordinary merchant vessels. When the Morgan Pirates approach to collect their toll, we'll catch them off guard and wipe them out."

Bluejam was a domineering captain aboard his ship. Seeing that his mind was made up and that he wouldn't listen to reason, the crew exchanged glances and gave up on trying to persuade him.

"The only thing to watch out for is the Marines," Bluejam continued. "Count Pere mentioned that the commanding officer of the 16th Marine Branch is a ruthless man who relentlessly hunts down pirates in his jurisdiction." He spat on the deck. "I bet the Morgan Pirates are just a dog he's raising. Once he's driven out the other pirates, he's using them to collect money under their name."

"Those Marines—they're rotten to the core," several crew members chimed in agreement.

...

Bluejam might have thought he was being cautious, but as soon as he entered the Navia Kingdom's waters, William was alerted to his presence.

William had established an extensive network of informants through the merchant guilds and the villages and ports under his control. While it might be an exaggeration to say he had mobilized the masses, many local residents who held favorable views of the Morgan Pirates would report suspicious individuals to the guild or the pirates' stationed personnel. After verifying the information, these informants would receive rewards of varying amounts.

This network, which seemed useless during peacetime, proved invaluable in critical moments. William spent a significant amount of Beli each year maintaining it—something that someone like Bluejam could neither understand nor imagine. Pirates like Bluejam, who had spent their entire lives in the East Blue, likely had never heard of civilians voluntarily providing intelligence to pirates.

Under the guise of merchant guild ships, Bluejam's crew inevitably docked at villages and towns to resupply and rest. Despite their attempts at disguise, they couldn't completely conceal their suspicious behavior. It didn't take long for their identities to be exposed, and the information was quickly relayed to William.

In a dusty construction site in Kalmar City's slums, William read through the incident report in his hands, which also included Bluejam's bounty poster. A smile slowly spread across his face.

Aramis, noticing this, asked curiously, "What's making you smile like that?"

"When you're feeling drowsy and someone hands you a pillow, why wouldn't you be happy?" William chuckled. "Now we have both a scapegoat and an excuse. Vallon's grudge will soon be avenged."

Aramis froze for a moment, his expression twisting slightly. Nearly two years had passed, yet Vallon's death still weighed heavily on him. Though he had occasionally resented William for the slow pace of his revenge, he understood that William now bore the responsibility for countless lives and couldn't make decisions recklessly, ignoring the safety of his other subordinates.

"Let's head back. We need to inform Nezumi and Gin to be ready," William said, rolling up the incident report and bounty poster before heading toward the noble district.

Chapter 139

《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 139: The Doctor

As William approached the noble district, the sight of a low, incomplete city wall came into view from a distance.

William had nothing to say about the efficiency of Navia Kingdom's ruling class. The construction of the city wall was something he had never actively obstructed, yet its progress remained as slow as a snail's pace.

A group of nobles and high-ranking officials had been embezzling funds from the project, causing endless delays. Moreover, since the taxes for the wall were imposed on the commoners, the extended construction timeline only increased the tax burden on the populace. As a result, the slums had been expanding recently, forcing the ruling class to rely even more heavily on William and his forces to maintain public order.

Over the past year, William had often found himself pondering a singular question:

Are they all idiots?

But then, recalling the history of his previous life, he remembered bureaucrats and feudal rulers who, even with enemies at their gates, prioritized lining their pockets over defending their cities—only to end up slaughtered like sheep by their foes. Compared to such historical figures, the ruling class of the Navia Kingdom wasn't entirely unreasonable.

While there was a hint of "handing the blade to one's enemy" in their actions, William still considered himself part of the kingdom's ruling class for the time being.

Perhaps there were one or two clear-headed individuals among the ruling class, but in the face of a majority of nobles and officials greedily siphoning funds from the city wall project, their calls for reform were powerless.

Most importantly, even the kingdom's Minister of Finance, Arcadio, was among these leeches. Meanwhile, the prohibition police force led by Kloe was beginning to take shape. Norton I, outraged that his prohibition decree was being blatantly ignored, had given Arcadio the authority to use this new department to eliminate his political enemies and rivals. Kloe, in turn, had taken advantage of this power to escalate matters, causing the so-called police force to increasingly resemble a secret police organization with a terrible reputation.

The actual control of the city's public order remained in William's hands. Since the prohibition police force was not yet fully established, Arcadio needed William's cooperation. As such, even without the financial interests tied to the city wall tax, Arcadio would not allow anyone to attack William freely.

When William and Aramis returned to the estate, they found Sherlock and Dampier already there. Among William's high-ranking subordinates, most were fierce warriors skilled in combat. The only ones who could truly be considered strategists were Sherlock and Dampier.

Sherlock managed the Four Seas Trading Company and oversaw financial matters, while Dampier handled weapon development and provided strategic advice to William.

Sherlock, who was temporarily stationed in Kalmar City to oversee operations, rarely ventured into the noble district to avoid drawing Arcadio's attention.

Recently, the Four Seas Trading Company had shifted its focus to the slums of Kalmar City. The Navia Kingdom's population census was a mess, and its grassroots governance was extremely weak. In places like the slums, where the population was highly mobile and the environment was complex, even basic oversight was nearly impossible.

Kalmar City had an estimated population of around two million—perhaps more, perhaps less—based on rough data from eight years ago.

By the standards of William's previous life, this was not a small number. However, the majority of the population consisted of impoverished individuals with no support. From an aerial view, the dense, illegal structures of the slums almost entirely surrounded the noble district. It was no wonder that the nobles had panicked when they suspected that Andre might have been killed by someone from the slums. If the slums truly descended into chaos, the nobles would undoubtedly suffer.

Yet these people seemed to have short memories. After William led his forces to eliminate a significant number of criminals in the slums and temporarily suppressed the unrest, the nobles quickly reverted to their old ways.

William wanted to conduct a population census to lay the groundwork for future policies on education, healthcare, and employment. However, lacking administrative authority, he could only rely on the Four Seas Trading Company. Under the guise of a spring disease prevention campaign, they planned to provide free medical care and distribute medicine in the slums, using this opportunity to collect population data.

This initiative required significant funding, but the most pressing issue was the lack of personnel. Sherlock had come to discuss this matter.

Before William could bring up his own concerns, he was already stumped by Sherlock's problem:

There weren't enough doctors.

William had long planned to establish specialized schools to train ship doctors and navigators. He intended to elevate these essential and highly skilled roles to positions akin to political commissars, ensuring loyalty among the rank-and-file soldiers and strengthening the cohesion of his forces as his fleet expanded.

He had instructed Sherlock to recruit talent in these fields, but for a slum population numbering in the hundreds of thousands, the available personnel were still a drop in the ocean.

"Try gathering the available doctors and compiling a textbook," William suggested. "Focus on the medical conditions in the slums. Use concise and simple language to teach and popularize the diagnosis and treatment of common illnesses. Then recruit a group of literate students, train them intensively, and produce a batch of individuals with basic medical knowledge in the short term."

Sherlock was taken aback. "Wouldn't that just create a bunch of quacks?"

"It's better to have something than nothing," William replied dismissively. "Besides, after the population census, they can continue their education."

Sherlock's face was filled with worry as he mentally calculated the costs. Just as he was about to leave, William stopped him. "I'm not done yet. For the time being, avoid showing your face in the noble district."

"Why?"

"I'm planning to make a move against Roy. I'm worried about alarming him and drawing Arcadio's attention. If Arcadio finds out you've been here, he'll figure out the connection."

Hearing this, Sherlock's exhaustion and worry instantly vanished. His eyes lit up as he asked, "When will you deal with Arcadio?"

"When everyone wants him dead," William replied, looking at Sherlock reassuringly. "Don't rush. He'll soon entangle himself in his own web."

After the conflicted-looking Sherlock left, William turned his attention to Dampier.

Unlike the commercially gifted Sherlock, Dampier was a polymath with knowledge spanning mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, astronomy, geology, history, and more. He had a passion for collecting books and had once proudly shown William his private library, calling it the greatest treasure in the East Blue.

However, Dampier's broad interests, combined with the limitations of the East Blue's environment, had prevented him from making groundbreaking achievements. Nonetheless, his extensive knowledge was precisely what William needed. As a transmigrator, William's understanding of this world was still incomplete. Often, his ideas and strategies required someone like Dampier to refine them and propose practical solutions.

It was Dampier who had suggested conducting a population census in the slums before implementing other plans. William had initially wanted to prioritize education, but Dampier had bluntly told him it wouldn't work. Even if William offered free education, few would attend. Only mandatory education could achieve the desired results, but that would require administrative authority and a thorough understanding of the slum population.

Notes:

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