Aeridar grinned ear to ear as he slipped back into the thicket where his crew had been keeping watch on the Marines.
"Captain, what is it? What kind of haul are we talking?"
Arlan and the rest of the crew crowded in, eyes shining with curiosity. Through their telescopes, they'd seen tensions rise, only for Aeridar to make short work of the two highest-ranking Marines on the scene. One of them even sat down afterward and said something to him.
"A group of fugitive pirates landed on this island," Aeridar said with a casual smile. "The Marines are here to hunt them down."
"You mean the real treasure's with them?"
"Captain, you figured out what they're carrying?"
The questions came flooding in. Some sharp crewmates had already guessed that Aeridar's "jackpot" must've been linked to the fleeing pirates. One guy figured it was gold or gems, but another argued that no one hauls heavy treasure while escaping. A third guessed it was a prized blade—maybe a famed Meito. And someone even tossed out the possibility of a Devil Fruit.
Aeridar didn't say a word, but silently gave a little nod of approval to the one who mentioned the fruit.
"Back to camp," he ordered with a wave of his hand. "I'll fill you in there."
The crew paused for a second, then fell in line behind Aeridar as he moved out.
Meanwhile, on the Marine side, multiple squads returned one after another after spotting three emergency flare signals in a row. Since they hadn't gone far, they were back at the shoreline in no time.
When the officers saw their superiors looking completely wrecked, they were stunned. But both Salos Cray and Aron Wazz wore grim faces and said nothing. Cray simply gave the command to board the ships and leave.
The lower ranks didn't understand the sudden withdrawal, but with their superiors so firm, they had no choice but to obey. Reluctantly, they filed onto their vessels and withdrew from the island—once again swallowed by the mists of the Ancient Isle.
Back at the camp, Aeridar and his crew returned to a chorus of cheers.
But he wasn't in the mood to celebrate. With a stern wave, he silenced everyone and gathered them around. Then he laid out everything: the Marines' pursuit, the fugitive pirates, and the possible Devil Fruit in their possession.
"Those poor bastards ran right into our captain's hands—ha ha ha!"
"A Devil Fruit! That's at least a hundred million berries right there!"
"I wonder who on our crew's lucky enough to eat one..."
"Hah, as if. You think they'd let you get a Devil Fruit with your skill level? Dream on!"
As Aeridar finished explaining, the camp erupted into chaos—wild laughter, shouting, excitement.
"No time to waste," Aeridar barked. "Form six search parties—thirty people in each. Sweep the island."
He pointed toward the center of the island.
"Send someone to the giant and get a message to Oliver and Dimitri. The rest of you, guard the camp and the Chris. If the Navy finds us, hold them off. If you spot enemy movement, fire a flare immediately."
Orders flew from Aeridar's mouth in rapid-fire succession. Arlan and Gorbo were sent out in separate squads. Millie and Mina, the sharpshooter twins, were assigned to guard the ship.
About ten minutes later, all the teams were out. The camp was quiet.
Aeridar, ever hands-on, leapt into the forest alone. With his Observation Haki, he could cover far more ground than any regular scout. No need to be slowed down by others.
His Haki could already reach a radius of over 300 meters. Back when he was recovering, he used to practice blindfolded to sharpen it. And now, fortune seemed to be on his side—his Haki quickly picked up two separate groups.
One was a team of his own men—thirty of them. The other was unfamiliar: roughly seventy-five individuals. The two groups were less than a hundred meters apart, and thanks to the dense forest, neither had noticed the other.
"Talk about luck!" Aeridar's eyes lit up, and he took off in their direction.
In the woods, the thirty-man squad from the Chris Pirates stalked through the underbrush with blades in hand and rifles slung over shoulders. They cracked jokes, but remained alert.
"Genno, you think we'll actually find the Mountain Pirates?"
"Would be great if we do."
"Even if we don't get to eat the Devil Fruit, the captain will definitely reward whoever finds it."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the thicket, a much rougher-looking group was struggling through the jungle. Their hair was matted, clothes torn, weapons chipped and scratched—if they even had weapons. Many carried nothing but sticks. Some were completely unarmed.
At the center of the group stood a towering three-meter man, slinging a massive battle axe over one shoulder and carrying a large bundle on his back—the shape hinted at something box-shaped.
These were the Mountain Pirates, the ones the Marines had been chasing across the seas.
"Damn those Navy dogs..."
"Shit, what if they followed us here?"
"What the hell is even in that metal case? It's got the Navy frothing at the mouth!"
Their footsteps, idle chatter, and the roar of beasts in the distance kept either group from noticing the other. Step by step, they drew closer.
The vanguards on both sides pulled back the same curtain of leaves and—froze.
"Beggars?" said one of the Chris Pirates.
"What?" blurted a Mountain Pirate.
They pointed weapons at each other simultaneously.
"Who the hell are you?!"
"We're pirates!" they shouted in unison.
"It's the Mountain Pirates!"
FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH!
Three signal flares shot up into the sky.
"The hell? Who are you?!"
"How do you know about us?!"
"You came for us, didn't you?!"
The Mountain Pirates panicked, drawing blades and leveling guns.
Click, click, click...
The sound of flintlocks being cocked echoed.
Swords were drawn in response.
The Chris Pirates weren't about to back down—they returned the gesture in kind.
A massive hand pushed through the crowd of Mountain Pirates.
A hulking man, over three meters tall, stepped forward. He wore battered golden armor, bulging arms crisscrossed with veins, and a two-meter axe strapped to his back. His eyes burned with fury as he stared down the Chris Pirates.
He growled through gritted teeth:
"What pirate crew... do you belong to?"
"How... do you know... about us?"
As he spoke, he reached behind and drew his massive axe.
Clearly, he was the kind of guy who spoke with his weapon first.
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