The man in question was none other than Copra the Flying Shot, captain of the Flying Shot Pirates, with a bounty of 70 million Berries. The bodies strewn across the street belonged to over ninety percent of his crew—a total of 105 men. Apart from a few who had stayed behind to guard their ship, his entire crew had been annihilated. One could almost declare the Flying Shot Pirates extinct.
Had the crew arrived at full strength, they might've stood a chance in a straight fight with the Chris Pirates. But as Vice Admiral Syrons of Marine Headquarters had said—what was left of Copra's crew couldn't possibly put up a fight. It was a one-sided slaughter.
"Heh... you think these useless fools were going to help you realize your so-called dream?"
"Only those with real strength can make dreams come true," said Oliver, polishing his blade Nagamitsu. His voice was full of contempt.
"For someone like you right now... a dream is just that. A fantasy."
"Bastards... scum..."
Copra cursed through gritted teeth, his whole body wracked with pain.
But he didn't accuse Arlan and the others of ganging up on him. In the Grand Line, a loss is a loss. They were pirates, not knights—who said anything about a fair one-on-one? Even the Marines fought with overwhelming numbers. In this world, only results mattered. Power decided everything. Having a bigger fist just gave you more ways to win.
A sharp whistle tore through the sky. Everyone looked up as a shadow came plummeting from above.
Bricks shattered, dust exploded outward, and another crater appeared in the ruined street.
"Yo~ Did I drop in on the wrong party?"
A voice full of confusion echoed from the smoke. A figure emerged from the pit.
"Ah? Captain, you're not dead?"
Oliver blinked in surprise.
"Thought that sand gator might've got you."
Arlan glanced at him with a lazy expression.
"Captain, are you okay!?"
Millie and Mina rushed over.
Stepping out of the crater, the smoke cleared to reveal Aeridar himself. With a helpless look, he muttered:
"Oi, oi... You guys really don't think much of me, do you?"
"So, did you take down Crocodile?"
Oliver shot back immediately.
Okay, maybe they were thinking too highly of him.
Sure, he'd ambushed Crocodile once—but that was different. Facing Crocodile at full power in the desert was a different beast entirely. Let's not forget—this was a man who once challenged Whitebeard. The World Government had offered him a seat among the Seven Warlords of the Sea when his bounty was only 81 million. That kind of man... was not someone to trifle with at full strength.
At the end of the street, tucked in the shadows, a figure had been watching. After a brief glance at Aeridar and his crew, they turned and quietly slipped away.
Aboard a Marine First-Class Battleship—Flagship Office.
Brrr... brrr... brrr...
"Moshi moshi. This is the First Assault Fleet. Flagship captain—Rear Admiral Lief. Mmhm—what?! Understood. I'll report immediately."
After the call ended, the man in his thirties strapped on his sword and rushed below deck, heading straight for the upper deck.
"Vice Admiral Syrons, we've received the final battle report—"
"Zzzzz... snore... zzzzz..."
Rear Admiral Lief stood awkwardly.
In front of him sat an old man in polka-dot pajamas, snoring away with a bubble on his nose—still holding a coffee mug. Somehow, he was asleep while sitting upright.
The old man startled awake and cursed:
"Damn that Garp! I've caught his damn habit!"
Syrons had once been Garp's peer in the Navy. The two had been close—eating contests, training bouts, all of it. And over time, Syrons had picked up some of Garp's eccentricities—like falling asleep mid-conversation... or while eating.
"Uhh... Vice Admiral Syrons. The battle report, sir."
Lief coughed awkwardly.
The second he heard "battle report," Syrons' expression snapped back to serious.
"According to intelligence from the agents stationed in Port Nanohana, both Crocodile and Aeridar returned—neither injured nor in disarray. That suggests they didn't fight seriously, and were evenly matched. As for the Flying Shot Pirates, they were nearly wiped out by the Chris Pirates."
"So that Golden Ring Aeridar has that much strength?"
Lief couldn't help but marvel.
"Even Crocodile didn't manage to put him down."
Syrons' face darkened.
"That man—Chris T. Aeridar—is an extremely dangerous threat. If he's already grown this powerful... and if he and Crocodile have come to some kind of agreement..."
He paused, the implications sinking in.
"Crocodile isn't the type to spare someone if he thought he could win. If he had even a sliver of a chance, he'd have tried to kill Aeridar. Even if he failed, he would've immediately gathered forces or rallied the kingdom's army to wipe the Chris Pirates out."
"Exactly," Lief nodded.
"And Port Nanohana's agents haven't reported any signs of Crocodile mobilizing troops. So it's likely... they reached some kind of deal."
"Probably after testing each other in battle," Syrons muttered, frowning.
"It was likely an oral agreement. Any formal arrangements... would happen at Rain Dinners, Crocodile's base of operations."
"Rain Dinners?" Lief raised a brow.
"You think Aeridar would dare go there?"
"Given that he held his own against Crocodile? Absolutely."
Syrons tapped his finger.
"Besides, Aeridar commands a number of strong officers and subordinates. Crocodile, on the other hand... lost all of his men after his failed clash with Whitebeard. He's rebuilt with Baroque Works, sure—but it's still new. Plenty of bodies, but very few capable hands."
Crocodile's original crew had been annihilated, and he'd even lost his left arm. Though Baroque Works had grown fast, it was still far from reaching the quality of its peak. Compared to them, the Chris Pirates were the stronger force, especially at the officer level.
"Vice Admiral Syrons, should we continue surveillance?"
Lief asked cautiously.
"Yes. Keep watching them closely."
Syrons' tone was cold.
"Whatever deal they've made, whatever scheme they're cooking—if the Chris Pirates so much as set sail, we strike immediately. Once the battle begins, no plan of theirs will matter."
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