Elsewhere, on the southern side of Whiskey Peak—
"Damn it! That bastard Kairos!"
A blood-splattered bush suddenly shook, and a middle-aged man rolled out of it. A bloody gash ran across his face, and his whole body was drenched in blood. His features were twisted with fury as he shouted hoarsely.
The movement pulled at the wound on his face, making him hiss in pain.
Ten minutes earlier, he and his companions had been caught in Kairos' rampage and cut down with a single slash, sent tumbling into the underbrush. They had survived, but neither of them had dared make a sound. Only after they were sure Kairos had gone far away did they crawl back out.
"Boss, that Kairos is completely insane. He cuts down anyone he sees." Beside him, a heavily built man with his shirt off was wrapping the wound around his waist, baring his teeth in pain as he spoke.
"And even after we told him we were working for Lord Shiki, he still attacked us. That bastard didn't put Lord Shiki in his eyes at all!"
On the other side stood a tall, curvy woman with venom in her voice. There wasn't a trace of blood on her body, but the right side of her pale face was swollen with a vivid handprint.
The hatred in the middle-aged man's eyes deepened until it turned frenzied. Enduring the pain wracking his body, he dug a Den Den Mushi out of his pocket.
"No. I'm reporting this to Lord Shiki right now. He'll punish that animal himself!"
As he spoke, he dialed a number.
The three bounty hunters beside him trembled involuntarily the moment they heard the name Shiki.
…
Along one of Whiskey Peak's side roads, Kairos and Robin continued their casual conversation, completely ignoring the wounded bounty hunters writhing and groaning beside the road.
"Robin, you really are absurdly knowledgeable," Kairos said with genuine admiration. Then he added, "So where do you think I should go next if I want to challenge strong opponents?"
e was no denying it—Robin really was
She was still young, but because of everything she had lived through, she had already traveled to far more places than most people ever would. No matter what island or location Kairos mentioned, she could instantly tell him where it was and what it was like. She was practically a living map.
And not just that.
Her understanding of history ran even deeper. Many historical details most people had never even heard of, Robin could recite as naturally as breathing.
A small smile appeared on Robin's lips at his praise.
She genuinely enjoyed talking with Kairos too.This kind of interaction—simple, natural, without calculation or deception—was something she had not had in far too many years.
But then—
the light in her expression dimmed.
She fell silent for a moment, pushed those thoughts away, and then spoke a name.
"There's a place with plenty of strong people. With your personality, I think you'd like it."
As she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled with quiet composure.
"That does sound promising."
A gleam flashed through Kairos' eyes as he heard the name.
He nodded and decided on his next destination.
…
Grand Line.
Night had fallen over the sea. Stars hung high overhead, and the moonlight spilled down in a soft silver glow. Everything looked peaceful.
It was an island with a strong Eastern European flavor. Bright bonfires burned everywhere, and people gathered around them, singing and dancing. On the streets, performers breathed fire for cheering crowds. It was the kind of place built to make people forget themselves in revelry. Laughter and music filled every corner of the island.
And yet—
deep inside one particular tavern, beyond a long narrow corridor, another world opened up.
The noise was deafening.
The lights were brilliant.
As far as the eye could see, wooden tables filled the space. Some men were gambling, some were drinking and clashing mugs, while others crowded around stalls trading strange and rare items.
It was an enormous space built into the mountain itself, stretching for nearly a thousand meters.
Each level formed a ring-shaped gallery stacked above the next, and every ring was packed with taverns, gambling dens, and shops. Pirate flags of every imaginable design hung from the walls, and at the highest level, an old wooden galley had been suspended from the ceiling by chains.
Even though this place lay hidden inside the mountain, it was anything but dark. Lamps and lanterns lit it in a warm golden blaze.
It was a breathtaking underground world.
No one would ever guess that behind the hidden passage of an ordinary tavern lay a secret gathering place for tens of thousands of pirates.
A grand celebration.
A hidden paradise for pirates.
This was Hannabal—
the site of the annual Death Sea Race.
"Oi! What kind of swill are you serving here?! This tastes like piss!"
Suddenly, a furious roar rang out from the third ring.
A huge, broad-shouldered man with a savage face kicked over the table in front of him. He wore a hat with bear ears on it, and the barrels on the table tumbled to the floor, splitting open and spilling amber beer everywhere.
And right at that moment—
two figures stepped into the place.
One was dressed in white, black hair falling to his shoulders, his features handsome and sharp. A sheathed cursed blade hung at his waist, and an old wooden sword rested across his back.
The other was a young woman in a black coat, her long dark hair tied behind her into a ponytail. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with an elegant, noble air about her."Though she was still young, the graceful lines of her figure were already noticeable."
The pair were, of course—
Kairos and Robin.
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