The vanguard of the New Fishman Pirates tugged on the reins of their sea beasts, ready to charge forward.

At that moment, the drawbridge of the tall gray-black fortress wall slowly descended.

Several human figures emerged, but the one at the front was the octopus fishman, Hatchan.

He saw the New Fishman Pirates surrounding them, and also noticed the residents of Fishman Island watching anxiously from afar. Raising his voice toward the open air, he cried out:

“Momoo——!”

The transparent barrier of the Waterless Zone suddenly split open.

Seawater surged forth like an arching bridge, and from within the current leapt a spotted sea cow!

Hatchan vaulted into the air and landed astride the sea cow’s back.

“Moo——!” bellowed the beast, and as the bridge of seawater shifted direction, it carried both the sea cow and Hatchan out of the Waterless Zone.

Riding his mount at breakneck speed, Hatchan alone confronted the New Fishman Pirates.

His eyes lit up with delight as he looked at them.

“Hody, Dosun, Zeo, Daruma, Ikaros, Hammond, Hyozou—you’re all still alive!”

One by one, he called out the names of the New Fishman Pirates’ captain and officers, his heart moved that so many familiar faces still lived.

But apart from himself, no one else shared in the joy of reunion. All stared back at him with cold eyes.

Completely oblivious, Hatchan instead frowned when he noticed Vander Decken and Wadatsumi among them.

“You two shouldn’t have come back,” he said. “Captain Davy Jones made it clear he never wanted to see you again. If you’ve returned, you’ll die.”

“Ha ha.” Vander Decken let out a dry laugh. “And who dies tonight is far from certain. Don’t you see the army my good brothers have brought me?”

“I see them. So what?”

Vander Decken was left speechless—unsure whether Hatchan was truly stupid or just mocking him.

So he spelled it out. “Look, the New Fishman Pirates are here to wipe out you Davy Jones Pirates. They’ve come to avenge me! I want every last one of you to lose your right hand!”

“We’ve come for the greater cause of Fishman Island,” Hody corrected him coldly. “And on top of that, we’ll be taking the heads of you two traitors—yours and Davy Jones’s!”

“Traitors?”

“Still pretending, are you? Hatchan, you were there when Captain Arlong was killed by Davy Jones, weren’t you? Why didn’t you protect him?” Daruma, short and squat, demanded.

“I was badly wounded then. It was Captain Davy Jones who killed Arlong.”

Hatchan explained exactly what had happened.

“Then why didn’t you kill Davy Jones to avenge Arlong?”

Hatchan’s eyes went wide, as if it were obvious. “Because I couldn’t beat Captain Davy Jones.”

Hody froze, and the surrounding fishmen were stunned as well by the blunt reply.

The colossal squid fishman Ikaros quickly spoke up in Hody and Daruma’s place, pressing further:

“Then if you couldn’t beat him, why join the Davy Jones Pirates and acknowledge him as captain?”

“Captain Davy Jones said it was either die, or serve as his crew,” Hatchan scratched the back of his head, honestly puzzled why Ikaros even asked. “I don’t want to die.”

The New Fishman Pirates were dumbfounded, staring at him in shock.

Never before had they seen someone declare his own cowardice so openly.

Even Vander Decken, who could bend or break as survival demanded, would later dress things up—bragging about how he had fought Davy Jones heroically, held out while outnumbered, and only been captured when utterly exhausted.

But Hatchan was a rarity: he simply laid bare his thoughts without shame, not even realizing there was anything wrong with it.

“Actually, Captain Davy Jones is a pretty good guy,” Hatchan even added. “I think he can protect Fishman Island better.”

The saw-shark fishman Zeo, clad in striped clothes like a prison uniform, slowly revealed himself from camouflage, arms crossed, and rebuked him:

“You traitor! From the Arlong Pirates to the Davy Jones Pirates, and you feel no shame?”

“Huh? Then I’ve been a traitor for ages…” Hatchan puckered his octopus mouth, as if suddenly realizing something, his eyes going wide. “I was with the Sun Pirates before I joined Arlong…”

The New Fishman Pirates felt as though their hammers had struck cotton—no sparks, no satisfaction—leaving them all the more frustrated and furious.

“Why even waste words with him? Hic——”

At that moment, the drunken swordsman Hyozou floated forward on his sea beast.

“Just kill him, what’s the point of arguing?”

Hody gave a cold laugh. “You’re right, Hyozou. As Fishman Island’s greatest swordsman, cut down the traitor’s head for me.”

“Of course.” Hyozou’s octopus tentacles drew eight blades from his waist. “He’s nothing but a defeated foe.”

He tossed aside his wine gourd and suddenly vaulted from his mount, soaring straight at Hatchan.

In the black depths, under the crimson moon, the blades flashed as they descended upon him.

Clang, clang, clang—!

But to Hyozou’s shock, Hatchan had reacted in time, drawing six long swords to parry each strike.

Hic—Hyozou staggered back, exhaling wine fumes into the water. His brow furrowed, then he laughed.

“So, you’ve made some progress after all. Even your swords are famed blades now.”

“You can tell?” Hatchan’s eyes lit up, delighted as he raised his weapons—Hana-shū, Scythefand, and Shūsui. “They’re all fine swords!”

Is that really the point?

Hyozou felt Hatchan was more unreliable than ever. He stopped talking, surged forward, and unleashed his Eight-Sword Style in full force!

His eight blades sliced through the current, whistling like a storm.

Hatchan blocked a few strokes, then leapt down from the sea cow to fight in open water.

“Do we really have to fight? If this keeps up, you’ll all die. Believe me—Captain Davy Jones will protect Fishman Island. He won’t harm you.”

Hyozou’s face flushed redder with anger. To still chatter mid-duel—was Hatchan looking down on him?

Furious, he unleashed his signature Swift-and-Slow Blades technique.

This style allowed Hyozou to manipulate his eight blades at will: some fast, some slow, some feints, some true strikes—real and illusory mingling in dazzling, deceptive patterns.

On top of that, his blades could cleave steel itself, making the technique all the more deadly.

In the past, Hatchan had always been helpless against this style, suffering defeat after defeat, mocked and jeered as a matter of course.

Hyozou expected history to repeat itself. But to his astonishment, Hatchan met the Swift-and-Slow Blades head-on—calm, steady, not the least bit flustered.

This…

Hyozou’s heart jolted. Half his drunken haze vanished as he wondered in shock—how had Hatchan, after a few years in East Blue, grown so strong that he could withstand even this technique?

The two battled on in the water, locked in stalemate.

Hody and the officers of the New Fishman Pirates grew impatient.

Wasn’t he supposed to be a mere defeated nobody? How had it come to this?

Sweat beaded on Hyozou’s face, his earlier arrogance giving way to unease.

I boasted to Captain Hody, and my name has resounded across Fishman Island all these years. If this drags on without victory, my reputation will be ruined!

His blade twisted, and his tentacles began secreting green venom that coated the sword edges, slashing with a hiss!

Hatchan blocked one stroke before retreating quickly.

“Hyozou, you’re going all out?!”

“Of course I am.”

But Hyozou didn’t immediately press the attack. Instead, he reached into his robes, drew out several pills, and swallowed them whole.

“I’ll see you dead.”

Hody, who had been frowning at Hyozou’s failure to finish things, now smiled as he saw the swordsman consume the Energy Steroid (ES) pills.

In moments, Hyozou’s hair and beard turned white, his face twisted into a savage mask as he lunged at Hatchan.

His eight venom-coated blades slashed with even greater speed.

“So fast!”

Hatchan was startled. He spat a cloud of black ink and darted back.

But Hyozou’s reactions were razor-sharp—he slipped past without a drop staining him, then thrust like a swordfish, relentlessly pursuing!

Every strike was a killing blow.

Hatchan struggled to defend himself, soon realizing there was no middle ground—only kill or be killed.

The brand of his pact seared faintly on his body. A strange power welled up, and his six swords glowed red, burning like blades fresh from the forge!

When the crimson blades met the venomous ones, the clash rang out not only with sharp clangs, but with a hissing sound, bubbles rising in the water.

Hyozou drew back, staring down at his swords in shock—the green venom had been burned away.

Was this really the Hatchan he knew?

Where had he learned such a technique?

Now it was Hatchan who pressed the attack. His six crimson blades swept forward, sending a wave of red sword-aura crashing down.

Hyozou, caught off guard, was forced onto the defensive.

Before he could fully react, one of his tentacles was severed by Hatchan’s strike.

Scarlet blood clouded the sea like mist.

Hyozou stared in disbelief at the severed limb drifting away, unable to accept it.

I… Fishman Island’s greatest swordsman… defeated, by that old underling?

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep