As Kuro, Alvida, Kuroobi, and Hatchan were locked in fierce combat—still without a clear victor—Arlong hefted his massive, serrated blade and charged toward Davy Jones.

“Heh… By the way,” Arlong sneered, his sharp teeth visible beneath his saw-like nose, “what part of Fish-Man Island are you from? I’ve lived there for years and never heard of you.”

He despised Davy Jones for betraying their race and allying with humans—but he was also intensely curious. A fish-man like that, with no reputation? Impossible. Could he really be the legendary “Dread Lord of the Deep”, living far beneath the sea?

“I come from a different place than you. It’s only natural you don’t know me—or even that I’m known,” Davy Jones replied ambiguously, his tentacles crawling up his neck and shoulders. “Our goals and paths don’t align—and you lack anything I need.”

“A traitor fish-man, speaking so grandly!” Arlong snapped, stomping the ground with the force of his powerful thighs—shattering the earth beneath.

“So then—tell me, what is it you need that I can’t provide? Treasure? Authority? What could make you forsake fish-man honor and ally with humans?”

With a snarl, Arlong lunged like an arrow shot from a bow—his massive blade slashing toward Davy Jones’ waist, aiming to slice him clean in half.

CLANG!

But Davy Jones calmly raised a crab claw, catching the blade between its pincers and halting Arlong’s strike mid-swing.

That’s Armament Haki enhancing his strength! Davy Jones narrowed his eyes, glancing at the claw.

He calculated rapidly: if he pushed his Armament Haki strength just slightly further, that defense would break the blade like a twig.

Arlong looked down in shock—his serrated sword had begun to chip.

Without hesitation, he leaped in again, jaws wide like a shark, aiming to bite through Davy Jones’s throat.

But before his fangs could clamp down, four slimy tentacles wrapped around Arlong’s arms and legs.

With a whoosh, he was yanked backward—his lunge interrupted—and slammed across the courtyard floor.

THUD—

Arlong skidded backward, carving a trench across the ground, bricks and debris flying.

It all happened so fast—before he could respond, he was already sprawled on the ground.

“You mean nothing more to me than Momoo the sea beast,” Davy Jones stepped forward calmly. “I have my jester for gear, my iron club for intelligence, and my plot-minded strategist . . . the sea beast will be my pet. If you want to compete over pets, you’ll need to try harder.”

Arlong hissed, face darkening into a crazed glare—his pupils slitted into vertical slashes, like a landborne croc.

“‘Pet’? ‘Fish-man honor is needless’?” he roared. “If you think you can shame me just because we’re both fish-men, and then easily best me—I’ll show you how vast the gap truly is!”

“Shark Javelin!”

With that, Arlong spun into motion—as if becoming a living javelin.

His entire body rotated at high speed, knife-edge blade tearing into the earth like a meat grinder, rushing toward Davy Jones.

Unfazed, Davy Jones calmly drew a pistol—BANG!

The shot struck Arlong mid-spin, causing his body to lock rigid.

In that perfect moment of pause, Davy Jones teleported instantly and drove his crab claw through Arlong’s back and out the front, slicing in a swift arc like lightning.

Pfft!

Arlong’s body pinned to the ground. A spider-web of cracks spread out from beneath him.

THUD!

Just as Davy Jones pulled free his claw to deliver a final blow, a massive crack rang out from the courtyard—Kuroobi’s signature “Thousand-Tile True Punch”—followed by the resounding collapse of stone beneath Davy Jones’s feet.

The fractures converged with Davy Jones’s earlier ground damage, causing the courtyard floor to break apart and plunge toward the sea pool below.

With a splash, Arlong tumbled into the water, leaving only his serrated blade gleaming onshore.

Crimson blood diluted rapidly in the seawater. He dived deeper and deeper—pain burning in his abdomen, replaced with seething rage.

If circumstances had allowed, he would never have chosen East Blue to begin this fish-man empire. Compared with the Grand Line, the sea … there are fewer powerful foes here.

Eight years of unbroken rule had made him lazy and complacent.

Until now—when even his ultimate strike failed, leaving him critically wounded—memories of the Grand Line flooded back.

Painful memories.

In the Grand Line, Haki and Devil Fruits were king. His natural fish-man strength hadn’t made him a top fighter. Even Jimbei chose Haki to become one of the Shichibukai.

But his pride in fish-man physiology had always been his foundation. Claiming fish-men superior was how he justified their dominance over humans—and validated his path and Jinbe’s wrongness.

Without that claim, his conquest of East Blue meant nothing.

Plop!

A heavy splash sounded—Arlong looked up and saw Davy Jones plunged into the sea, too.

Submerged in icy water, Davy Jones seemed free. His tentacles drifted like tangled roots, blocking out the faint light filtering from above.

The water around them dropped into darkness and silence.

Arlong had never lacked worthy foes—he often turned defeat into victory. The sea amplified his strength and speed as long as his enemies were immersed.

It was a fish-man’s built-in advantage.

But he nearly forgot one key fact: this opponent could also leverage that advantage.

A fish-man he couldn’t beat on land—how was he to fight underwater?

Whoosh.

A glimmer of light—then it vanished suddenly.

It meant one terrifying fact: Davy Jones had disappeared in an instant.

And now, Arlong could not sense him. Normally, his aquatic senses would never lose track of him.

Yet, in this moment, Davy Jones was nowhere to be found—as if he had vanished entirely.

Impossible.

Arlong refused to admit he’d lost sight of him. But when he suddenly felt a crushing blow to his face—his saw-nose snapping, blood spilling—he had to concede the truth.

Tentacles wrapped around his torso, restraining him. A second hit fractured his eye sockets.

He felt a knee press into his midsection, and tentacles coil around both neck and ankles—twisting them downward.

Underwater came a faint crack, barely audible—yet it meant his spine had been broken.

Air and blood bubbles erupted from his mouth. Eyes bulging, Arlong screamed his final words:

“You… fish-man traitor…”

At that moment, he finally saw Davy Jones fully.

Floating in the dim sea, Davy Jones stared down as Arlong sank.

Arlong remembered long ago—as a naive child on Fish-Man Island—he first heard tales of the Dread Lord of the Deep.

The chill those stories brought haunted him his entire life.

It was said Davy Jones locked everything he conquered in a chest beneath the ocean—never to see the light again.

He had assumed those nightmarish stories were childish memories… long forgotten.

But now, seeing it before him, his long-buried fear awakened once more.

Weak and helpless, Arlong pictured himself locked in Jones’s chest—his despair eclipsing even the agony.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep