Shakky's words earned Redfield's agreement—pirates shouldn't bother with honor and morality. If you want something, you take it. If someone stands in your way, you eliminate them.
They weren't short on money, but in the New World, the law of the jungle ruled. Strength determined ownership, and their spoils were theirs by right.
Brook had come to terms with this as well. Since they had already made enemies, there was no need to hold back. Might as well go all in—plundering, looting, and seizing whatever they wanted. As long as they didn't go overboard with civilian casualties, it was fine.
Then again, true civilian islands were rare in the New World. Nearly every island had its share of pirates. Even children might have blood on their hands.
When Whitebeard was young, he had grown up fighting slavers and pirates alike. He had taken many lives before he ever set sail. The New World was brutal—those who couldn't resist were either exploited or enslaved. That was the way of the world.
The fault wasn't with those born in the New World—the fault was with the world itself.
...
The Hell Pirates swiftly ransacked the pirate trade island, their first major haul since leaving Skypiea. It marked their first true raid. Skypiea didn't count—gold was worthless to the Skypieans, after all.
Shakky, ever the opportunist, even tried selling the corpses of the defeated pirates. She attempted to offload them at 40% of their bounty value to a shady bounty hunter lurking nearby, looking to score easy money.
Thinking he could outmaneuver her? Not a chance!
Shakky—ruthless as ever—haggled relentlessly, eventually settling at 30% of the bounty. She had no choice. Brook and the crew were already preparing to set sail.
Still, for her, this was an utter defeat. A stain on her record! To think she had let a bounty hunter beat her in negotiations!
...
Aboard the Golden Ark.
"Brook, if you hadn't rushed me, I wouldn't have lost so much money!"
Shakky grumbled as she counted the Belly, occasionally licking her fingers to better handle the notes.
"Oi, oi! I'm the one who took down those pirates, and besides, we're not exactly broke. Do you really need to nag this much?" Brook shot her a look of exasperation.
"You don't get it! Haggling is in my blood! It's my sacred duty! And besides, you spend money like water. If I didn't keep our finances in check, we'd be broke in no time!"
Shakky shook her head in frustration, stacking a fresh bundle of high-denomination Belly notes.
Brook ignored her and gave Tom orders to set sail. They needed to lay low for a while—the information they had gathered suggested trouble ahead.
According to intel gathered by Antonio and their wiretaps, the World Dark News' president, Kandor, was linked to the Vesper Pirates. Controlling much of the New World's underground information network. Even the World Government had dealings with him.
What remained uncertain was whether Kandor was truly loyal to Vesper or simply using him as a stepping stone for his own ambitions.
...
Vesper, one of the three great pirate overlords, was considered the wealthiest pirate in the world. In the heart of the Ten Kings Islands, on Madagascar Island, he had established a vast pirate empire. He even went so far as to draft a Pirate Code, demanding that all New World pirates abide by its rules.
Of course, the other two overlords paid him no mind. The major pirate crews didn't acknowledge him either.
Still, within his domain, his Pirate Code held significant sway.
...
On one of the Ten Kings Islands—Central Island—a pirate captain with golden curls under his tricorn hat set down his Den Den Mushi, his face dark with rage.
Marseille Island was his prime source of income, and now some upstart Supernova crew had wiped it out. The sheer disrespect!
Vesper had declared himself the Pirate Emperor, and his top nine officers had each been granted dominion over an island, taking the title of 'King.' The arrogance was undeniable—his empire practically mirrored a miniature World Government. His ambition was boundless.
Among the Nine Kings, King of the Central Island, Jevalle, was among the strongest. Now, the Hell Pirates had provoked him, and he would have to restore his reputation.
He refused to believe that the Hell Pirates had earned their bounties through sheer strength. Killing a Celestial Dragon had inflated their worth—nothing more.
Jevalle had fought and bled for years in the New World to reach a 600-million Belly bounty. No mere Supernova was his equal.
Haki took years to master, even after learning the basics. These greenhorns couldn't possibly challenge veteran New World pirates like him!
"Captain Jevalle! Emperor Vesper has summoned the Nine Kings to Madagascar Island for a council meeting!"
A messenger rushed in and kneeled, delivering the report.
"Understood. Dismissed."
Jevalle waved him off, deep in thought. The Hell Pirates' ability to fly complicated things. If they escaped into the sky, they would be difficult to track.
Rumors suggested that Emperor Vesper was deeply interested in the abilities of Golden Lion Shiki's Float-Float Fruit. If that was true, then Vesper himself might take action against the Hell Pirates.
...
At the heart of the Ten Kings Islands, Madagascar Island—once known as King's Island—had been renamed Emperor's Island ever since Vesper claimed the title of Pirate Emperor. Every aspect of it exuded power and control.
Seated upon his elevated throne, Vesper loomed over the chamber. His oversized black pirate hat dwarfed those of other captains, as if even in headwear, he had to surpass them all.
His face was lined with scars, his thick beard braided into small knots, and his long, dark dreadlocks cascaded down his back. His sharp, piercing gaze revealed the cunning of a man who had spent decades ruling the seas.
Despite being 68 years old, he showed no signs of slowing down. He had held his position as an overlord for 29 years. Even Rocks, that ambitious upstart, had struggled for years before solidifying his dominance.
Many had vied for the title of Pirate Overlord. When Rocks had slain the previous ruler, he had barely managed to hold his position—forced to retreat for months to recover before emerging victorious.
In the cutthroat New World, even slaying an overlord didn't guarantee succession. Many had been hunted down in the chaos that followed, falling to opportunists waiting in the shadows.
To truly ascend, one had to be ruthless. Slaying the old king wasn't enough—one had to fend off the other two overlords and countless ambitious pirates.
Even Vesper had to admit—Rocks had been formidable. Strong, cunning, utterly ruthless. A man willing to do whatever it took to win.
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+122 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg