A slave ship?
Nao didn't bother taking the telescope. Instead, he spread his Observation Haki and focused it on that ship.
From the distribution of auras aboard, he could tell that the two or three dozen slaves had all escaped successfully.
The only ones left on the ship were furious, savage-looking men in black suits.
"Well, that's unusual,"
Nao raised an eyebrow. Slave ships occasionally lost one or two captives—that was nothing strange.
But for all of them to escape? Either the guards had been incredibly negligent, or there was a rather capable leader among those slaves.
"How should we handle this, Vice Admiral?"
The Commander next to him adjusted his glasses and spoke cautiously, his face clearly showing concern.
If this were an ordinary underworld-affiliated slaver ship, it would be simple—just open fire and sink it.
But in the Grand Line, ships that openly trafficked slaves rarely operated without powerful backing.
They were often connected to royal families of various kingdoms—or even to the Holy Land itself.
"Maybe we shouldn't open fire immediately. Let's intercept them first, ask for their identity, and then…" The Commander had just tentatively started speaking when he suddenly saw Nao raise his right hand and extend his index finger.
Crack!
The next instant, the air itself trembled.
A streak of pale-blue lightning erupted from his fingertip.
Under the horrified gaze of the bespectacled officer, the bolt of lightning roared forward like a thunder dragon.
The sea split apart along its path, carving a massive rift over ten meters wide that stretched far into the horizon.
The enormous slave ship didn't even have time to burn. It simply disintegrated—obliterated into a cloud of blackened ash that scattered into the sky like dark snow.
"The World Government expressly forbids all slave trading,"
Nao finally lowered his hand and smiled pleasantly at his stunned subordinates.
"That's their rule. So from now on, you don't need to ask. Just remember this one thing—got it?"
"Y–Yes, sir…"
Nao nodded in satisfaction.
Without glancing back at the Narines who were still frozen in awe, he picked up his coat and casually left the deck, heading toward the training room.
The main problem had already been solved.
As for cleanup and aftermath—minor details—those could be left to his subordinates.
Under the Commander's direction, two lifeboats were soon lowered into the water, carrying medicine and rations toward the distant sea.
One of them would be left behind for the escaped slaves.
The Thunder Hawk itself merely slowed down slightly—it didn't stop.
Once the lifeboats returned, the ship resumed full speed, slicing through the waves on its way to Marineford.
...
"We're… saved."
A bald, burly man let out a long sigh of relief as he collapsed onto the lifeboat's planks.
He turned his head with effort and called out weakly:
"Hey… everyone… you all okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Same here…"
...
The replies came one after another—thin, tired voices, the sound of people utterly drained after a desperate escape.
"Completely out of strength… damn, that was close. Another minute and they'd have dragged us back."
The bald man glanced toward the receding silhouette of the Thunder Hawk.
"Didn't think it'd be the Marine that saved us. The Akshan royal dogs—all wiped out…"
He shuddered at the memory of that terrifying blue thunder dragon.
"To strike at royalty like that… that man's got guts. Must be one of the top brass of the Marines."
"Probably a Vice Admiral at least."
"Vice Admiral? Maybe even an Admiral!"
"Whoever he was, he's our savior. If we ever meet him again, we've got to thank him properly!"
"Of course!"
Lively chatter spread among the survivors.
Having been enslaved for so many years, cut off from the world, none of them knew how much had changed outside—
and naturally, none recognized that the man who had saved them was Vice Admiral Nao, the White Dragon himself.
But that didn't stop them from feeling deep gratitude toward the Marine officer who had saved their lives.
"Oh, right!"
The bald man suddenly remembered something and turned toward a figure curled up in the corner at the stern of the lifeboat.
"Everyone, don't forget — we should thank Brother Tobi, too! If he hadn't stayed behind to cover us and buy time, none of us would've lasted long enough for the Marines to arrive!"
"That's true! It's all thanks to Tobi!"
"He's a fish-man, you know! If he'd wanted to, he could've just dived into the deep sea and escaped, but he stayed for us!"
The one they called Tobi was a fish-man — powerfully built, muscles coiled like steel cables — but right now he looked exhausted.
He was quietly biting down on a strip of bandage, lowering his head as he tended to his own wounds.
"No need to thank me," he said in a low, rough voice. "We've all been slaves for years. This is just what I should've done."
He didn't respond to any of their words of gratitude, continuing to wrap his injuries in silence.
A young girl nearby saw him struggling and quickly crouched down to help, but he firmly refused, pushing her aside with a curt motion.
Moments later, the bandaging was finished.
Tobi lifted his head, his eyes dark and deep, gazing toward the distant silhouette of the Thunder Hawk on the horizon.
"A Marine who can control lightning, huh…" He murmured to himself in a voice only he could hear, "I'll remember you."
The next moment.
He withdrew his gaze. Without taking any medicine or dry rations, and ignoring the exclamations of the others on the boat, he plunged into the sea without a word, sinking rapidly like a swimming fish, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
...
Several days later.
Fishman Island.
Located 10,000 meters beneath the Holy Land Mary Geoise, it was a mandatory stop for pirates entering the New World —
and the birthplace of most of the Fishman and Mermaid races.
Known as the "Underwater Paradise," it was a nation as dazzling and dreamlike as a fairytale.
At this moment, on a street near the central plaza—
"Everyone, please sign here!""Queen Otohime is preparing to attend the next Reverie! She plans to present our petition — for all citizens of Fishman Island to be allowed to live on land! We need your signatures to show our united support!"
Several mermaid girls were working tirelessly along the street, handing out flyers and gathering signatures.
Passersby stopped and glanced at the leaflets — some sneered, some shook their heads and walked away indifferently.
Still, most of them, upon seeing Queen Otohime's signature at the bottom of the page, hesitated for a moment —
then quietly signed their names.
By that time, the mermaid girls' hands were all filled with thick stacks of signed petitions.
When they gathered by the plaza, each of them was cheerful and excited, chirping away like a flock of little birds as they talked about the day's success.
"Miya! Did you see? I got fifty signatures from citizens today!"
"I've got eighty myself! When we bring them all back in a few days, Her Highness Otohime will be so happy!"
"Definitely! The Queen's been so worried about the lack of signatures lately — she's even lost weight. We have to help ease her burden!"
…
Laughing and chatting under the sunset, the mermaid girls walked together until they reached a fork in the road.
It was time to part ways.
"See you tomorrow!"
"Yeah! Let's work hard again tomorrow!"
The girls waved goodbye to each other. The pink-haired mermaid girl named Miya, humming a little tune, turned and headed back towards the plaza.
Unlike her companions, her home was near the plaza.
"Still not enough," she thought happily as she flipped through the signed papers.
"Tomorrow, I have to try harder — at least a hundred signatures next time!"
Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't see what was in front of her — and ran headfirst into something like a wall.
"Ouch…"
Holding her nose, eyes tearing up from the pain, she looked up — and froze.
It wasn't a wall at all, but a towering, purple-skinned fish-man.
Startled, she immediately forgot her own pain and bowed in panic.
"I—I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention, it's all my—ah!"
She gasped.
Before she could even finish her apology, the tall fish-man snatched the stack of signed petitions from her hands and held them up high.
"You really should be more careful," he said with a mocking smile, eyes narrowing. "How can you walk around holding something this important so carelessly?"
"I—it's my fault…"
Miya trembled, fear in her eyes, but still managed to plead,
"I didn't mean to… please, sir, could you give it back?"
"Give it back?"
The purple-skinned fish-man grinned wider, lifting the papers even higher.
"If you want it back… then come and take it."
"Hey!"
A few nearby fish-man passersby couldn't stand watching any longer. One of the older men shouted angrily,
"Give it back! Do you have any idea how many people's signatures are on that paper?"
"Signatures?"
The purple fish-man glanced at the old man — then burst into loud, derisive laughter.
"Sha ha ha ha ha— Who cares how many people signed it!"
He crouched down, staring mockingly at the terrified mermaid girl.
"You people work so hard just to collect this useless garbage? What a bunch of idiots. Just looking at it pisses me off…"
"You! Stop right there!"
Suddenly, a sharp cry came from behind. The Mermaid girl looked back with surprise and relief, seeing a soldier of the Neptune Army, fully armored and holding a spear, rushing over in a fury:
"What do you think you're doing, causing trouble like this— Wait a second, if I'm not mistaken, you're Arlong from Fishman District!"
The purple-skinned fish-man finally turned his head. Slowly standing upright, he looked at the charging soldier — then suddenly smirked. He reached out with one hand and, with ease, lifted the man by the throat, dangling him helplessly in the air.
"Arlong from Fishman District?"
The purple fish-man grinned wider, showing his sharp teeth.
"Not quite right… I'm not that Arlong anymore. I'm Captain Arlong, captain of the Arlong Pirates."
As he spoke, his grip tightened little by little.
The soldier, though fairly burly himself, was completely powerless in Arlong's hand — like a chick caught by an eagle. His face flushed red, his breathing became ragged.
"You see," Arlong said in a cold, low voice, "I make my living hunting those pitiful, inferior creatures — the ones who can't even breathe underwater… humans."
He leaned in closer, his tone dripping with menace.
"In other words, I've been doing your job for you — hunting pirates in your place, you useless Neptune Army dogs. And not only do you refuse to pay me a reward, but you dare treat me like this?"
"L-Let go…"
The soldier gasped, twisting his head with effort.
"J–Jinbe, boss! Don't just stand there— help me!"
Jinbe?
That name was so famous that every onlooker nearby turned instinctively toward the sound.
Arlong narrowed his eyes and followed their gaze toward the plaza.
In front of the fountain statue stood a broad-shouldered, blue-skinned fish-man, wearing the uniform of a Neptune Army Captain. His eyes were closed as he calmly smoked from a long-stemmed pipe, saying nothing.
Sensing the sudden attention, Jinbe slowly exhaled a puff of smoke — and finally spoke, his tone quiet but firm.
"Hey, you young punk over there. I think it's about time you put that recruit down. He's my subordinate, after all."
He glanced at the trembling mermaid girl whose papers were scattered across the ground.
"And those signature forms — give them back. I don't care much for them myself, but to the Queen, they mean a great deal."
"Sha ha ha ha ha! Big boss?" Arlong couldn't help but laugh loudly. "How ridiculous, that kind of address… I've never seen a soldier who acts like a yakuza boss like you!"
"Hey!" Jinbe narrowed his eyes, a hint of coldness entering his tone. "I'll say it one last time. Give it back to her, Arlong. Hurry up and do as I say!"
Even though he hadn't moved from his seat, he exuded an aura of authority.
"Tch. Fine, fine."
Arlong scowled and tossed the soldier aside like garbage. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he let the signature sheets scatter across the ground.
Ignoring the mermaid girl as she hurried to gather them up, he strolled lazily toward the fountain, hands in his pockets, grinning.
"Long time no see, Jinbe. We're both from Fishman District— no need to get so worked up, eh, big bro?"
Big bro?
The surrounding onlookers, including the soldier thrown on the ground, were all stunned.
"Don't lump yourself together with me." Jinbe's reaction was cold, continuing to smoke his pipe. "Still being a pirate, are you? A thoroughgoing scumbag…"
"How can you call me a scumbag, Big bro?"
"Is that so?" Jinbe tapped his pipe, his tone indifferent. "Then I'll call you trash instead."
"Trash?" Arlong's eye twitched. He finally snapped, roaring,
"Don't get cocky, Jinbe! Just because I called you 'big bro' doesn't mean you get to act all high and mighty in front of me!"