Bzzz—Bzzz—Bzzz—

The Den Den Mushi, taking on the likeness of a grizzled face chewing on two cigars, rang out inside the rocking cabin of a Navy warship.

“Captain Nezumi,” an ensign reminded, “Captain Smoker from Loguetown is calling.”

The two “Captain” mentioned weren’t of equal rank—Nezumi was part of a regional East Blue branch, while Smoker was from Marine Headquarters, vastly outranking him.

Captain Nezumi, who had been studying a sea chart pinned to the wall, turned around and stroked the sparse whiskers on his rat-like face. His beady eyes rolled as he approached the transceiver and picked up the receiver.

“Hello, this is Captain Nezumi speaking! So sorry, Captain Smoker—I was patrolling the seas and couldn’t take your call right away…”

“No need for pleasantries,” came the gruff, weary voice on the other end. “Captain Nezumi, I’m relaying an order from Marine HQ. Leave a few ships behind to maintain order in your region. You are to bring the rest and head to Loguetown immediately.”

“Huh?” Nezumi’s eyes widened in surprise, darting about nervously. “Captain Smoker, may I ask—what’s happened?”

“HQ has issued an order: before that so-called ‘Demon Sea Reaper’ enters the Grand Line, he is to be captured—or eliminated—by any means necessary.”

Nezumi finally caught on. “You mean Davy Jones—the one everyone’s been talking about recently? He’s just a thug riding on an infamous name, stirring up trouble. But thanks to the World Economic News, things have really blown up.”

“This time, Marine HQ is taking it seriously,” Smoker replied coolly. “Vice Admiral Garp is being appointed as lead commander. HQ’s also sending Captain Tashigi—she should be arriving in Loguetown shortly.”

“What?!” Nezumi nearly jumped. “Vice Admiral Garp and Captain Tashigi? It’s that serious? Don’t worry—I’ll have my fleet in Loguetown in two—no, one day!”

“And contact Helmeppo,” Smoker continued sternly. “He was chasing down the remnants of the Krieg Pirates, but he’s completely off the radar—no calls, no signs. Tell him to get to Loguetown as well.”

“Understood,” Nezumi said. “Last I heard, the Krieg Pirates only had three ships left. I doubt Helmeppo could’ve failed—he’s probably drinking somewhere after wrapping things up. I’ll try to locate him right away.”

“See that you do,” Smoker said before hanging up.

Once the Den Den Mushi went quiet, Nezumi’s polite expression dropped instantly into a scowl.

“Hmph. What an attitude for someone barely above me. Everyone in East Blue knows you got kicked out of HQ for stepping on the wrong toes.”

He shoved the Den Den Mushi aside. The ensign beside him asked, “Captain, does this mean we’re still going to Cocoyasi Village?”

“Of course we are.” Nezumi stroked his whiskers and dropped onto the couch. “A deal is a deal.”

The ensign nodded and bowed respectfully.

Still, Nezumi’s eyes darted around with unease. “Our route’s hidden, right? No one’s taking pictures?”

“Not a chance,” the ensign assured him. “Arlong’s already cleared out nearby villagers. All we have to do is show up.”

Nezumi nodded but warned, “Even so, be extra cautious. Make sure there’s no one suspicious lurking nearby. With HQ personnel all over the place, one misstep and… well.”

“I understand. I’ll take care of it right away.”

The ensign saluted and stepped out.

Nezumi sighed and picked up a wanted poster from the table—one featuring the infamous Davy Jones.

After two big spreads by the World Economic News, the legendary terror whispered of by sailors and pirates had suddenly come back to life, causing a media frenzy.

Though the bounty itself hadn’t been raised—suppressed by HQ—the Marines’ sudden call for a joint operation, even putting Vice Admiral Garp in charge, showed just how serious they were.

True, Garp had originally returned to East Blue to investigate the death of Captain Morgan. But being appointed commander here meant HQ was fully committed.

They wanted Davy Jones—either locked up in Impel Down, or executed outright.

Execution was likely, considering Jones had killed a Marine branch captain—a politically sensitive move, especially for a Fishman.

Even though Garp’s investigation had uncovered Morgan’s atrocities against civilians, the fact remained—he was still a ranking officer. You couldn’t just kill a colonel and walk away.

Someone like Davy Jones—dangerous and different—had to be removed immediately before he caused more chaos.

Nezumi couldn’t help but think of his own situation.

What if Garp started digging into his business?

Would he still be able to cover things up?

All of this—because of that damned Davy Jones. Why couldn’t he be more like Arlong?

Arlong knew how to play the game. He knew when to stop.

But Jones? He just ran around like a lunatic!

Nezumi threw the wanted poster back on the desk. His whiskers trembled in frustration.

He needed to get rid of Davy Jones—fast—before Garp unearthed anything, and he’d better remind Arlong to lie low for a while, too.

Just then, the ensign returned.

“Captain, we’re almost at Cocoyasi Village.”

“Good.” Nezumi stood up. “Find out where HQ’s Ensign Helmeppo went, and where his ship is. He didn’t just vanish.”

“He left in a rush, only took one Den Den Mushi. Might’ve lost it—or maybe the snail died. I’ll trace their last known position.”

“Hurry.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nezumi walked to the railing, gazing at the shoreline—then frowned.

“Why is there smoke in the sky?”

The ensign checked. Indeed, thick black smoke now billowed above the horizon.

“That’s… just past Cocoyasi Village. It’s Gosa,” the ensign answered nervously.

“That’s Arlong’s turf too, right?” Nezumi scowled. “Why the hell is the place on fire? Does he want HQ to raid him?”

“No one from HQ’s been there,” the ensign chuckled. “Just a local Marine officer who decided to lead an unsanctioned mission… Then his fleet had a tragic accident at sea.”

“You don’t need to remind me!” Nezumi snapped. “I wrote the report myself! Poor prep, bad weather, ships overturned. Not our fault, right?”

“Y-yes, of course, sir.” The ensign bowed again.

Their warship quietly passed the burning Gosa, then sailed by the eerily calm Cocoyasi Village before arriving at Arlong’s base—Arlong Park.

Nezumi disembarked with two soldiers. Two oddly-shaped Fishmen approached but, recognizing the familiar face and lack of strangers, waved them through.

They made their way deep into the park, under an awning where the tyrant himself—Arlong—waited.

A massive sawtooth shark Fishman, Arlong’s towering figure radiated menace. His nose was a serrated spike, his fingers webbed.

Seeing Nezumi, Arlong laughed heartily. “Hahahaha! Captain Nezumi! I was wondering—would it be today or tomorrow you’d come for your monthly tribute? Have a seat!”

Nezumi sat, clearly uncomfortable surrounded by such dangerous company. Even his soldiers were sweating.

Arlong waved his hand. A thick stack of bills was brought over and handed to Nezumi.

He pocketed them quickly and said, “Arlong, I’m under a lot of pressure from HQ lately. Let’s hold off on payments for now. And what’s the deal with that town you burned—Gosa?”

“They refused to pay. So I wiped the place out. Collective punishment,” Arlong said as if discussing the weather. “What kind of pressure can HQ give you? Someone report us? I’ll take care of them—clean and easy.”

Nezumi shrank back from the murderous aura. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve already made a mess. Do you know who’s in East Blue right now? Hero Garp. If he finds out, we’re both dead!”

“Garp, huh?” Arlong’s grin faded a little. “Heh… Got it.”

“I’m leaving now,” Nezumi said quickly. He didn’t care if Arlong listened—he just wanted out of this hellhole. “If the villagers see me here, it’s trouble.”

“Hahahaha!” Arlong laughed behind him. “They already suspect. What’s the point of hiding it?”

Nezumi waved a hand and turned back with his men.

Arlong watched them disappear around the corner, face darkening.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep