"I know where Bellamy's pirate ship is docked."
Bartolomeo rubbed his palms together with a sly grin, bowing and nodding obsequiously before Alvida.
"I'll take you there. This way, please."
Alvida pressed her red lips together and, unafraid of any tricks from him, gave a brief nod.
"Hehehe…"
Bartolomeo and his men all wore the grinning faces of greedy merchants who had just spotted gold, leading the way eagerly.
Only, what they were greedy for might be far beyond imagination.
One of them said, "Miss Alvida, please be careful. The steps here are slippery—you wouldn't want to fall."
Another immediately rebuked him. "Idiot! The last thing Miss Alvida fears is being slippery! Haven't you read the Collector's Edition Fan Compendium?"
"Ah, that's right!" the first man slapped himself on the cheek. "It's just—seeing the real person, I kind of froze up, you know?"
"I get it, I get it. Hehehe…"
Alvida found this group increasingly bizarre—almost like the fanatics who worship the world-famous songstress, Uta.
Soon, Bartolomeo and his crew led Alvida and the pirates of the Terror Ghost to a ship covered in smiling clown faces—as if desperately declaring its connection to one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, Donquixote Doflamingo.
Once, those symbols brought the Bellamy Pirates great privilege and protection. But today, they meant nothing.
Alvida gestured to her men. "Board the ship. Search it thoroughly."
"Yes, ma'am!"
The pirates swarmed aboard. They might not excel at many things, but when it came to looting another ship, they were undisputed professionals.
Before long, a sharp, childish scream came from within the cabin.
Alvida froze, then immediately understood.
Those bastards!
She strode quickly inside. In one of the rooms, her pirates had surrounded a small mermaid girl—no more than six or seven years old.
The little mermaid lay inside an open treasure chest, her hands and tail bound tightly with rope. The white cloth that had covered her eyes and mouth had been torn away.
Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, her gaze filled with helpless fear.
But when she saw several fish-men and mermaids among Alvida's crew, she broke down, wailing as though a dam had burst.
Fish-Man Island had long since outlawed the kidnapping and trafficking of merfolk or fish-men. Yet precisely because of that, their prices in the black market had soared to unprecedented heights.
Many, tempted by such immense profits, chose to take the risk—among them, the Bellamy Pirates.
No one knew how they managed to evade the inspections at Fish-Man Island, but one thing was certain: the guards there bore heavy responsibility.
Alvida stepped forward, lifting the mermaid girl gently into her arms and untying the ropes that bound her.
She soothed the child softly, until finally, the little mermaid stopped crying and—trusting Alvida completely—fell asleep against her chest.
Once the girl was asleep, Alvida turned, her expression dark and cold.
"Go," she said icily. "Capture every last member of the Bellamy Pirates. Leave none alive. Hang them all."
"Yes, ma'am!"
At once, the fish-men and merfolk pirates answered in unison, fury flashing in their eyes, and rushed out of the cabin.
Alvida entrusted the sleeping mermaid to two female merfolk. "Take care of her. Find her family," she instructed, then stepped back onto the deck.
By then, her crew had discovered another "treasure."
One of the human pirates came forward, holding a wooden box. He opened it to reveal a fruit covered in swirling patterns—an Devil Fruit.
He hurriedly presented it to Alvida.
"So that's how it is," Alvida murmured, lifting the box and turning the fruit in her hands. "They were transporting this for Doflamingo. Its value must be at least over one hundred million berries."
In other words, even selling Portky—whose bounty was ninety million berries—might not be enough to buy a single Devil Fruit.
Thinking of her own navigator, Alvida's eyes flickered with a thought, though she dared not make the decision herself. She decided instead to bring it to Captain Davy Jones.
As she descended the gangplank holding the box, Bartolomeo and his men trailed behind her, sticking like glue.
"Hehehe…"
Bartolomeo grinned so wide his eyes nearly disappeared.
"Beautiful Miss Alvida, I wonder… might I have the honor of meeting the great Captain Davy Jones himself?"
Afraid she might take offense, he quickly added, "Of course, if you'd rather I didn't, I completely understand… It's just that my admiration for Captain Davy Jones is as boundless as the sea itself…"
"All right, all right," Alvida waved him off impatiently. "You can come—but your crew stays here. Their ship will be searched."
"I understand, I understand! Perfectly reasonable!"
He spun around and barked at his men, "You heard her! Stay put! No messing around, no embarrassing me!"
His subordinates deflated at once, sighing in disappointment.
But none of them dared defy their captain or Miss Alvida. They simply stood there, watching as the two walked away.
Alvida gave them another curious glance. Their strange behavior only deepened her intrigue—but there would be time to question them later.
She led Bartolomeo through the streets under the watchful eyes of the townsfolk, and as they passed the central square, they saw the gallows being erected.
The Davy Jones Pirates were nothing if not efficient. When they declared an execution, it was done the same day. No delays, no ceremony—only swift justice.
The Bellamy Pirates, including their first mate Sarquiss, stood in a line before the nooses, heads hanging low.
The cowards among them wept openly, some even wetting their pants.
The bolder ones tried to escape, but were caught by the fish-men pirates—one kick, and crack, a leg was broken.
The islanders gathered to watch, pointing and murmuring to one another.
"These youngsters are fools," one said. "Did they really think they could defy Davy Jones's law?"
They had seen plenty of arrogant pirates, merchants, and bounty hunters end their days on those ropes.
Why did all of them believe they would be the exception?
Then, Sarquiss's eyes went wide with terror as the noose tightened around his neck. He shouted desperately:
"You can't do this! We're under Doflamingo! He's one of the Seven Warlords! He'll pay to ransom us!"
But no one paid him any mind.
With a sharp thud, the trapdoor beneath his feet dropped open.
Sarquiss kicked and struggled wildly, but even in death, Doflamingo's name could not save him.
On this island, only the name of Davy Jones held power.
Bartolomeo watched, utterly fascinated. If meeting Davy Jones weren't so important, he might have stayed just to watch the whole execution.
He followed Alvida into the so-called Haunted Manor, looking around in awe, eyes sparkling with excitement—as if he were on a sacred pilgrimage.
Alvida told him to wait in the hall, then ascended the stairs, carrying the wooden box.
She stopped before the captain's door and knocked.
"Come in."
At the sound of that deep voice, Alvida pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The captain sat in his chair.
A raven perched on his shoulder, its feathers flowing like ink dissolving into water, its eyes glowing crimson.
On the desk before him lay a thick, yellow-covered tome, and resting atop it—a black compass.
The title on the cover was written upside down from Alvida's view, but after a moment she made it out:
"The Pirate Codex."
Both the black compass and the suddenly appearing codex radiated an irresistible, almost lethal allure.
It was as though a whisper brushed against Alvida's ear:
Take up the compass. Open the codex…
She shook her head sharply, dispelling the voice and the greed that came with it.
Steadying her breath, she placed the wooden box before Davy Jones and opened it, revealing the Devil Fruit within.
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