“This is a Den Den Mushi that connects directly to Mr. 0.”

From inside her coat, the parasol woman produced a snail with a small telephone set on its back and two drooping mustaches. She handed it to Davy Jones.

“But… it can only receive calls from him. We can’t call back.”

Davy Jones wrapped a tentacle around the snail, examining it briefly before turning his gaze back to the woman, waiting for her to continue.

She hesitated, visibly tense.

“When the boss calls next, I can lie about what happened here on Cactus Island — tell him you and Princess Vivi left early, and we never ran into you.”

Her plan, of course, was to vanish afterward. There was no hiding what had happened here forever, and once the truth got out, the boss would never let her live. She’d either have to flee to another part of the Grand Line… or run all the way back to her home in the West Blue.

Davy Jones didn’t immediately respond to her offer. Instead, he asked something else.

“What’s your name?”

“Uh? I… I’m called Miss Valentine—”

“No,” Davy Jones interrupted. “I mean your real name.”

The woman swallowed hard.

“My real name is Mikita.”

“Mikita.” Davy Jones lifted the tentacle holding the Den Den Mushi. “What you’ve told me… is meaningless. Even if you never speak to this Mr. 0, our voyage will still be perfectly safe.”

…And he was right.

For a moment, Mikita had no reply. She stood there in silence, thinking desperately, before finally blurting out:

“Captain Davy Jones, I’m willing to do more — whatever it takes — until you’re satisfied.”

“Then start from the beginning.” Davy Jones’ eyes gestured for her to follow. “We’ll talk on the ship.”

Mikita obediently closed her parasol. The forced smile she’d been wearing faded, replaced by a quiet compliance. She trailed after Davy Jones, following him up the gangplank onto the black ship.

When she reached the rail and saw Vivi there, she felt an awkward sting of shame.

Only moments ago she’d been arrogantly hunting the princess down, looking down on Davy Jones and his crew — and now, here she was, a prisoner on their ship.

Vivi seized her by the arms, anxious and trembling.

“Tell me — what about Igaram, Miss Monday, and Mr. 9?”

“They… and a duck… were all badly injured by Mr. 5’s explosions.”

The duck could only be her mount, Karoo, who usually hid in town. Somehow, they’d found him too.

Mikita’s words made Vivi’s heart leap to her throat — but the next part let her breathe again.

“But we didn’t kill them. They’re being treated by a doctor. If we couldn’t find you, the plan was to use them as hostages to force you to surrender.”

“Really? You’re not lying to me?”

“With Captain Davy Jones standing right here, how could I dare lie?” Mikita forced out her trademark fake smile again.

Just then, voices called out from the darkness.

Everyone on deck turned — and from behind the massive cactus emerged Buggy, Kuro, and Hachi.

They were splattered with blood and grime, clear signs of a fight, but they didn’t seem badly hurt. And judging by the sacks and crates they carried, they’d completed their supply run.

“You were ambushed?” Alvida stepped forward.

“It was those bounty hunters disguised as townsfolk, right? I ran into a man in a weird outfit and a female lawyer — they tried to attack me, but I took them out instead.”

“You too? Same here — I dealt with a guy with a sword and a woman carrying a shield.” Buggy grinned and spread his hands.

Kuro said nothing.

Hachi, however, pointed at him and said:

“Kuro took down some ‘pope’ guy and a lady swordsman. Then a bunch more came after us, so Buggy gave me this sword, ‘Hana-shu,’ and I cut down a judge and a circus-clown lady.”

Hachi proudly displayed his newly acquired famous blade.

The judge and clown woman had introduced themselves as “Mr. 7 and Miss Father’s Day” — both gunslingers, and the leaders of the group chasing them. Now both were dead by Hachi’s hand.

“…Are you hinting at something?” Buggy suddenly turned, glaring at Hachi.

The word clown hit a nerve — for obvious, nose-related reasons.

Hachi blinked in confusion. He had no idea what he’d said wrong, or how it could possibly be a jab at Buggy.

Mikita listened with growing unease.

From Mr. 7’s pair all the way down to Mr. 12’s, not a single Baroque Works team had survived. Here in the little town of Whiskey Peak, they had been completely wiped out.

Mr. 6’s pair hadn’t appeared at all — likely deciding to hide the moment things turned bad, maybe even slipping off Cactus Island entirely.

For the first time, she truly understood — she was alone.

“It seems you all went through quite a lot tonight,” Davy Jones said at last. He led the way into the ship’s conference room, and the rest followed. “Let’s sort things out.”

They took their seats around the round table.

By now, Davy Jones’ range for harvesting fear stretched across the entire town of Whiskey Peak. He was drawing on it constantly, both to strengthen himself and to focus the crew’s attention as each recounted their encounters.

Alvida, Buggy, Kuro, and Hachi each told their stories.

Davy Jones listened in an almost absent-minded manner — until, to the astonishment of everyone present, his left crab claw began to shift. It morphed into a human left hand… holding a black staff topped with a pincer-shaped crown.

Like his fleshy wings, the black staff could meld seamlessly back into his body.

His right tentacle sank beneath his skin as well, replaced by a human right hand.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he had both hands again.

He could now return to a fully human form if he wished — but he only restored his arms for their practical use, keeping his monstrous, tentacled face exactly as it was.

To him, this was his true appearance now. The human sailor he once was had long since died.

Beyond the change in his arms and the addition of the staff, his recovery speed had also increased — meaning he could teleport or fly greater distances in an instant.

Davy Jones noticed the silence around the table and tilted his head, the tentacles on his face writhing slightly.

“No need to stare. Just a small thing. Go on.”

The others didn’t think it small at all — but their attention now shifted to Mikita.

Under the weight of so many eyes, she took a few breaths before speaking.

“I don’t actually know that much. Just that Baroque Works’ goal is to overthrow the Arabasta Kingdom and build some… ideal kingdom with a new order.”

“No, that’s just a cover,” Vivi interrupted sharply. “The real purpose… I haven’t confirmed yet, but it’s far more dangerous than that.”

More dangerous than toppling a kingdom?

Everyone’s curiosity sharpened.

It was clear from her and Igaram’s intelligence work that Vivi knew far more than Mikita did.

Baroque Works operated on a strict need-to-know basis. Even agents from Mr. 1 to Mr. 5 didn’t all know each other’s identities — let alone the most mysterious of them all, Mr. 0.

But Vivi said:

“In fact, I already know the true identity of the president of Baroque Works. Igaram and I followed Mr. 0’s partner and found some files… that’s how we learned who he is.”

Mikita flinched instinctively. Anyone who learned Mr. 0’s real identity without permission was marked for death.

But given the situation, she stayed silent and listened.

“He is one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea — Crocodile.”

Gasps went around the table.

“He came to Alabasta more than twenty years ago. As a Warlord, he’s done countless so-called ‘heroic’ deeds — but in truth, many of them were staged, working in secret with Baroque Works.”

“He used ‘Dance Powder’ to create drought. Most of our country hasn’t seen rain in three years — all thanks to him.”

“At the same time, he’s had Baroque Works infiltrate both the royal army and the common people, stoking hatred and division, until the rebellion rose up to face the king’s forces head-on.”

Vivi’s voice grew fiercer with every sentence.

“Crocodile intends to use the reputation he’s built over two decades to seize control in the chaos — just like another Warlord, Donquixote Doflamingo of the New World, who openly took over his own country!”

Doflamingo’s coup had been practically public knowledge; anyone who wanted to know the truth could.

Now, Crocodile meant to follow that same path.

Vivi’s fists clenched tight on the tabletop, her lower lip trembling.

“To satisfy his ambition, he doesn’t care how many die in the drought or the riots… how many families are torn apart, how many friends turn against each other in this pointless war…”

She was on the verge of tears when a breeee-breeee-breeee sound broke through the room.

It came from the Den Den Mushi Mikita had brought — the one linked directly to Mr. 0.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep