“Haa… haa…”

Heavy breathing filled the tent as a graceful woman emerged from behind a curtain. Her slim waist swayed with each step, and behind her trailed the sweeping tail of a mermaid.

She was Madam Shyarly, the shark mermaid who owned and ran the Mermaid Café on Fish-Man Island—mature, dignified, and refined.

But now her face was pale with panic, sweat beading on her brow. Her bangs hid one eye, while the other was wide open, glimmering with terror.

She had seen a nightmare—one about her dead brother, Arlong.

In the dream, he crawled toward her, his body mangled and drenched in blood. His lower half was gone, nothing but gore, and with a ruined mouth he tried to speak.

The details were fragmented, impossible to recall, but one name had reached her ears through the haze of horror:

“Davy Jones…”

Madam Shyarly was no stranger to that name.

She had grown up hearing the terrifying stories of the “Undersea Hades.” As she matured, she dismissed them as nothing but children’s tales. But lately, that name had surfaced again and again in the papers.

Perhaps it was no legend after all. And even if it was, that didn’t mean it was false.

“…I have to trust this instinct,” she muttered.

From her wardrobe, she pulled out a blue low-cut hoodie, slipped it over her upper body, and tugged the hood low over her hair. Settling onto a bubble, she floated lightly out into the open.

Soon she arrived at another chamber. From a clam-shaped case she retrieved a perfectly round crystal ball, set it reverently upon the table, and then produced her long-stemmed pipe. Lighting it, she exhaled slow ribbons of smoke, calming herself.

At last, she lowered the pipe, placed both hands on the crystal, and spoke the name with sharp precision:

“Davy Jones. Davy Jones… Davy Jones…”

The once-clear sphere turned cloudy, visions beginning to stir within.

She glanced at it—and instantly clutched her head, a searing pain tearing through her skull. With a cry of anguish, she collapsed to the floor.

The noise brought several mermaids rushing in.

They saw the crystal ball upon the table, saw Madam Shyarly lying stricken, and understood at once. They hurried to her side, helping her up.

“Madam Shyarly!” cried a ponytailed mermaid in alarm. “Why are you fortune-telling again? Just the other day you were so distraught after your last reading—you promised you wouldn’t divine again for a while!”

“She’s right!” others chimed in, echoing with concern.

They were the café staff. Shyarly had always cared for them, and they loved working under her. To them, she wasn’t just an employer—she was family.

Seeing her in pain hurt them all.

Shyarly pressed her hand to her forehead, breathing hard, until at last she steadied herself.

“I couldn’t ignore a spiritual impulse that strong,” she admitted. “Every time, it has warned me of danger. But this time… this time was worse. Far worse than before.”

The mermaids exchanged uneasy looks.

“Worse than predicting the war between Marine Headquarters and the Whitebeard Pirates—that Whitebeard himself would die?”

Days earlier, Shyarly had prophesied the outcome of a “War of the Best.” The revelation had crushed her spirit; she had locked herself away for days afterward.

Everyone knew Madam Shyarly’s prophecies came true—especially when they involved great events. She had foretold the birth of Princess Shirahoshi, the dawn of the Great Pirate Era… all of it had come to pass.

So when she saw the fall of Whitebeard, she believed it too.

The result had already spread across Fish-Man Island, throwing the populace into fear.

If Whitebeard truly fell, it would be a disaster for the island.

Ever since the Great Pirate Era began, Fish-Man Island had lived under Whitebeard’s protection. If that shield vanished, what would follow?

Pirates would swarm in, plundering merfolk and fish-men alike to sell into slavery.

For once, the island prayed Madame Shyarly’s prophecy was wrong.

But reality only pushed things closer to her vision.

First came the report that Ace would be executed publicly at Marineford. Morgans’ newspapers blasted the news across the seas, reaching even the depths of Fish-Man Island.

Next, both Marine Headquarters and the Whitebeard Pirates began mobilizing openly. The movements were too large to be hidden.

War was inevitable.

Finally, Jinbe—once the Warlord protecting Fish-Man Island—had defied the Government by opposing the war. He was stripped of his title, arrested, and thrown into Impel Down.

One by one, the signs aligned with her vision of the Summit War.

Since then, Shyarly had stopped eating or drinking much, sunk in gloom. Her staff begged her not to divine again.

But today, she had given in.

“Madam Shyarly, what did you divine this time? What did you see?” asked a mermaid with twin buns in her hair.

“I divined Davy Jones,” Shyarly said plainly. “The ‘Undersea Hades’ who killed my brother Arlong. But all I saw was a black ship, under his command, pressing toward Fish-Man Island. Beyond that—I saw nothing.”

“Nothing?” the mermaids gasped. Such a thing had never happened before. Madam Shyarly’s visions always unfolded with clarity.

She bit her lip.

“It’s incredible… I couldn’t see his future at all. The moment I tried to look deeper, my head nearly split apart.”

Even now, minutes later, she trembled at the memory of that pain. She dared not look into the crystal again, terrified of what she might see.

“Whatever lies ahead, one thing is certain—Davy Jones will come to Fish-Man Island. He may bring terror and calamity, just like the legends of the ‘Undersea Hades.'”

The mermaids were shaken. Some whispered anxiously:

“Could it be… he intends to strike while Whitebeard is distracted, and Jinbe is gone?”

“It’s very possible.” Shyarly suddenly straightened. “No—I must see King Neptune. At least the ministers! They must be warned at once.”

Ignoring her staff’s protests, she mounted a bubble and rushed toward Ryugu Palace.

The mermaids left behind, whispering among themselves, soon spread word of the looming threat.

By the end of the day, all of Fish-Man Island was abuzz:

Davy Jones might soon attack.

The populace was swept into panic.

Almost simultaneously, the latest bounty posters for the Davy Jones Pirates arrived on a coated trade ship.

The two shocks collided—and the impact was immense.

Sea Cow “Momoo” – 15,000,000 Berries!

“Cheer Captain” Porche – 30,000,000 Berries!

“Little Umbrella” Mikita – 77,000,000 Berries!

“Octopus” Hachi – 90,000,000 Berries!

“Surgeon of Death” Law – 120,000,000 Berries!

“Iron Club” Alvida – 125,000,000 Berries!

“Schemer” Kuro – 126,000,000 Berries!

“Desert Crocodile” Crocodile – 181,000,000 Berries!

“Clown” Buggy – 195,000,000 Berries!

“Undersea Hades” (New Name) Davy Jones – 450,000,000 Berries!

Together, the Davy Jones Pirates carried bounties exceeding one billion. Six of them were worth over one hundred million each. A terrifying force.

That night, few on Fish-Man Island found sleep. Some trembled with fear. Some felt lost. And others… were thrilled.

A great upheaval, unseen in a hundred years, was about to break over Fish-Man Island.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep