Chapter 196: Bubbles of Deception
Ross watched as Queen Otohime, still clinging to his arm like a lifeline, launched into her first "negotiation." She approached a kindly old man in the bustling port crowd and politely asked for directions to the nearest slave auction.
The old-timer beamed back, his wrinkles deepening with a warm smile. "Happy to help, miss. I'll take you there myself."
No one interrupted. A few shady types lurking nearby caught sight of the old man and slunk back, eyes flickering with unease. Otohime, her powers sealed and oblivious to the undercurrents, shot Ross a triumphant grin before linking arms with the guide and pulling him along.
First contact successful, she thought. Humans aren't so bad after all. This'll be a breeze.
Ross chuckled under his breath, his gaze lingering on the old man's back. So many eyes on us, yet they scatter the second you chat with this guy? Only one explanation—he's the worst snake in the pit. And who knew what poisoned web he'd drag her into?
Ross reined in his faint pulse of Conqueror's Haki and strolled after them, hands in his pockets. The port was too chaotic for an ambush; better to wait until they hit open ground. Besides, his real targets were the crew pulling the strings behind this fool.
"Here's our ride—a bubble bike, straight from Sabaody's shops," the old man announced, waving over a burly figure pedaling from the shadows.
A male mermaid—wait, no, a fish-man—rolled up on a bizarre contraption: a bicycle with a massive, translucent bubble hitched to the rear, big enough for a handful of passengers.
"Fish-man?" Otohime blinked in surprise, glancing at Ross for reassurance.
She'd heard the horror stories about Sabaody Archipelago on the voyage here—a lawless hub of auctions and vice, where merfolk like her fetched top Berry. Why would one be driving cabs?
The old man chuckled. "This here's Zeo. Used to hail from Fish-Man District, but now he's hustlin' in the groves. Good fella."
"Fish-Man District?" Otohime's brow creased. She'd never held grudges against the place before—it was all part of Fish-Man Island, home to her kind. But this kidnapping? It started with a betrayal from one of their own. A fish-man had clubbed her senseless.
She pushed the memory down. Someone must've forced him. No choice in it. Still, the name stuck: Arlong. A plain enough moniker, but paired with "fathead fish-man," it narrowed the field. Dozens might share it in the District, but not many matched that description.
Zeo caught her frown and scowled. "What's with the look? Actin' all superior like the rest of you merfolk."
Otohime flushed. If not for the bubble's thin walls and Ross's steady presence beside her, she might've recoiled. How dare I judge? I called them all good folk, part of our island. And now this...
"Sorry," she said quickly, remorse softening her voice. "Bad memories. No offense meant."
Damn uppity mermaid, Zeo thought, spitting to the side. One whiff of Fish-Man District and she turns tail. If she weren't prime merchandise, I'd teach her a lesson.
He growled a warning: "Listen up—I'm from the District, but don't lump me with those lowlifes."
"Lowlifes?" Otohime echoed, confused as she and Ross climbed into the bubble's middle seats. The old man squeezed in behind.
Zeo hopped on front and kicked off, the bubble wobbling before settling into a smooth glide. "Ever since Brother Tiger ditched the District, it's gone to rot. Half the mermaid and fish-man slaves in Sabaody? Shipped out by those scum. They sell their own for a quick Berry."
His voice dripped contempt. Sure, Zeo dabbled in the trade himself—a side gig, waiting for easy marks like this pair. But he drew lines. No selling fish-men; he'd even buy a few back and cut 'em loose. Mermaids, though? Fair game. They strutted around like royalty, sneering at "lesser" fish-men. Payback felt right.
Otohime's stomach twisted. Not just me, then. An whole racket? Her kidnapping suddenly felt like the tip of a spear—bolder, yes, but part of something uglier. Coexistence with humans could wait. Fish-Man Island needed to purge this rot first: mermaids versus fish-men, kin turning on kin.
"That true?" she pressed.
Zeo flashed a toothy grin. "Heard just yesterday—some crew snagged a batch of mermaids. Fresh catch."
"Can we check it out?" Otohime leaned forward, urgency sharpening her tone.
"Sure thing! You're payin', so you lead." Zeo eyed them over his shoulder, sizing up Ross's build. Human's got muscle, but height ain't strength. Still... He'd survived Sabaody long enough to start his own Fish-Man Gang, partnering with the old man for port pickups. No point rushing blind—test the waters first. "Just you two, though? Those sharks ain't pushovers."
Otohime missed the probe entirely, beaming with pride. "No worries—I can handle it! Got a billion Berries right here!"
Zeo's eyes lit up like polished gold. Jackpot. Buy one, snag two for free. A billion? Enough to bankroll his whole gang for years of lazy rum and fights.
"Hot damn, you're loaded!" He pedaled harder, veering toward the deeper groves. Impatience burned; their lair was primed. Fish-Man Island had been under lockdown for days—some drama—but it lifted yesterday, just in time for three prime mermaids to arrive. Auction bait, all of 'em.
"Perfect!" Otohime clapped, her excitement bubbling over. Saving her sisters? This trip might actually work.
Ross kept his smile fixed, one arm looped around her slim waist to steady her against the bubble's sway. The brighter she shines now, the harder she'll crash later.
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