Three days later, somewhere out at sea—there it stood. A magnificent city rising from the waves: the world-renowned shipbuilding capital, Water 7.
Also known as the City of Water or the Seven Isles of Water, Water 7 was a thriving island metropolis where shipbuilding reigned supreme. Home to hundreds of thousands, its citizens had built the city atop a submerged foundation, forever at the mercy of Aqua Laguna, the "Gods of Water," whose tidal surges and flooding were the city's greatest threats.
Water 7 was dotted with dozens of shipyards that had built and repaired some of the most famous ships in history. Even the Oro Jackson, the legendary vessel of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, was crafted here. And over 800 years ago, it was the shipwrights of this very island who constructed Pluton, the ancient superweapon, one of the three Ancient Weapons, capable of obliterating an island with a single shot.
The wrath of the Aqua Laguna combined with the pirate rampages of the Great Pirate Era had once brought Water 7 to the brink of ruin. But everything changed when the fabled shipwright Tom built the sea train Puffing Tom, rekindling hope and prosperity for the island.
Now, with its proximity to Enies Lobby and its booming shipbuilding industry, Water 7 had become a hub for pirates, merchants, and wanderers alike. That made it the perfect place to cash in gold, and perhaps more importantly, hire the famed Shipwright No. 730 to repair and upgrade the Chris into something far more formidable.
"There it is, Water 7! What a sight!"
From the deck, Arlan exclaimed as he took in the shimmering city on the horizon. And he wasn't the only one awestruck, most of the crew had gathered on deck, gazing wide-eyed at the city rising from the sea.
"Is that thing actually built on the water?" Oliver asked, stunned.
"Word is it's constructed atop a sunken foundation beneath the sea."
Resting his arms along the railing, Aeridar closed his eyes, letting the ocean breeze wash over him.
"Amazing..." Millie and Mina breathed in unison.
As the Chris sailed closer, the city loomed ever larger, revealing its layered canals and towering structures.
A loud whistle echoed through the air. Then came a rumble, a rhythmic thunder that drew everyone's attention. A long, snake-like train appeared in the distance... gliding across the ocean's surface.
"Is that... a train? On the sea?"
"Someone pinch me. Am I dreaming?"
The crew of the Chris stood frozen, mouths agape as the Puffing Tom chugged along the waves toward Water 7.
Suddenly, the lookout shouted down from the crow's nest:
"Captain! There's something strange near the port, looks like... a bunch of identical ships!"
"Identical ships?" Aeridar frowned.
A moment later, the lookout's voice trembled.
"It's... it's the Navy! A full fleet of Marine ships!"
"The Marines?! That can't be!"
Everyone rushed to grab their binoculars. Sure enough, clustered around the northern port of Water 7 were over a dozen warships, cannons bristling along their decks, sails hoisting the familiar seagull insignia of the Marines.
"Captain, should we dock at a different port?" Arlan asked, his brow furrowed.
With that kind of firepower, even a long-range barrage could spell disaster.
But Aeridar remained calm, casting a sidelong glance at his first mate.
"No need. I'm one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. The Marines have no right to attack us."
"That's right! The captain's one of the new Warlords!"
"We're legally sanctioned pirates now, untouchable."
"Technically, we're allies of the government."
The crew relaxed at the reminder. As a Warlord of the Sea, Aeridar, and by extension, his crew, had their bounties frozen. Their past crimes were swept under the rug by the World Government. The Marines were not authorized to pursue them.
Water 7, Northern Port.
More than a dozen Marine warships lay anchored here. One of them was massive, easily dwarfing the Chris in both length and girth. Measuring over 150 meters long and nearly 50 meters wide, it was a custom Navy dreadnought: built from the finest timber, plated with steel armor, towering five decks high, crewed by 1,500 men, and armed with over 100 cannons—including more than ten 32-pound behemoth guns.
Even within the Navy, such ships were exceedingly rare.
Up in the lookout tower, a Marine scout scanned the horizon with a telescope.
Suddenly, he spotted a ship headed straight for them—huge, sleek, and unmistakably pirate. A black sail emblazoned with a white skull, crossed sword and dagger beneath it, golden rings hanging from the hilt guards, and strange symbols painted across the flag.
"Sir! Pirate vessel approaching! Heading straight for us!" the scout shouted down to the deck below.
On the main deck, a middle-aged officer in a black-and-white checkered suit rose from his seat. A long sword hung at his side, and a Justice coat draped over his shoulders. Frowning, he took the telescope from his adjutant.
One glance at the ship told him everything.
"Black background, white skull... crossed sword and dagger with golden rings on the handles... and some weird writing. That flag... I know it from somewhere," he murmured, stroking his chin.
Tap tap tap... tap tap tap tap...
Footsteps echoed behind him.
"Scary stuff~ So he's here too, huh?" came a drawling voice, half amused, half bored.
"Monster or not... I think I'll go say hi."
In the blink of an eye, the man vanished in a flash of brilliant yellow light, streaking across the sea like a lightning bolt.
"Kiz—ah... still as fast as ever," the middle-aged officer muttered, barely finishing the name before the man had already vanished. All that remained was a streak of golden light darting across the waves.
That same light now approached, blinding and radiant.
"What the hell is that?!"
The crew shielded their eyes, squinting against the oncoming brilliance.
Aeridar's brow twitched.
"Captain... you recognize that?" Arlan asked, eyes narrowed.
Then, in a flash, the light vanished, leaving behind a tall, lean man standing dead center on the deck.
He wore a striped yellow-and-white suit, a Justice coat with gold epaulets, and a pair of dark sunglasses. His curly black hair framed a bearded face, and a cigarette hung lazily from his lips, curled into an almost comical smirk.
"Ne~ sorry about that," he said in a slow, exaggerated drawl. "Didn't mean to blind anyone."
And with that single sentence, there was no longer any doubt.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to my ——— (.)com/JuanFiction [remove the parentheses ( )]
There are over 100 advance Chapters available for you!