After half a month at sea, the Chris slowly approached a certain region. The number of ships visible on the ocean increased noticeably. From where they stood, several vessels could be seen sailing across the waves, followed by countless seagulls in their wake.
Here, pirates and merchants coexisted in peace.
As for pirates and the navy...
They rarely, if ever, crossed paths.
Flying Bird Island was a bustling hub of commerce. Unlike Canopy Island, which relied on a single industry to sustain itself, Flying Bird Island thrived with businesses from all walks of life.
Naturally, this flourishing economy had also given rise to a thriving underground scene.
At the port, the Chris slowly docked. After entrusting the ship to the port staff, the crew disembarked one after another.
The harbor was a scene of prosperity. Porters scurried about like ants, unloading cargo from ships. Shop owners haggled over prices, while crowds of tourists poured off cruise ships.
But most of the vessels were privately owned—just like the one Weiss and his companions had taken.
As the four walked toward the shore, a sharp-eyed man among a group chatting nearby spotted them. Without a word to his friends, he rushed over.
...
...
"Greetings, travelers! I'm Burt, a tour guide here on Flying Bird Island. I'm very familiar with every part of the island—can I assist you in any way?"
Burt introduced himself with enthusiasm. He knew that a major auction was about to take place on the island, one rumored to feature a Devil Fruit. With so many visitors arriving, surely some wouldn't know the local layout—an opportunity to earn a tidy sum.
Weiss thought it over. No matter what, a local guide did have certain advantages.
"Alright," he said.
"Excellent, sir! While you're on Flying Bird Island, I'll accompany you the whole time. If you have any questions, just ask!" Burt looked genuinely pleased—this kind of job could be quite lucrative.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder—why did this young man look so familiar? Had he been a client before?
"Take us to the best restaurant on the island first," Weiss said. "After so long at sea, it's time for a change of flavor. What do you all think?"
"I don't care," Jack replied coolly, his aloof demeanor returning now that they were in public.
"Changing things up sounds good," Kadun added, sneaking a glance at Karina. She'd been the one cooking on the ship, and if she misunderstood, he might end up getting slapped.
Karina, looking disinterested, muttered, "Whatever."
Weiss raised an eyebrow at the strange mood but brushed it off. Women had their off days—no need to press.
"Take us to the finest restaurant on the island," he said to Burt.
"Of course, honored guests. However... the best restaurant is in the center of Flying Bird Island, and half of its clientele are pirates. Would that be a problem for you?"
Burt had to be careful. He once had a troublesome guest who got upset over pirate clientele, despite being told in advance—and not only did Burt earn nothing, he got beaten up for it too.
"It's fine," Weiss waved dismissively.
After confirming several times, and just as Kadun was about to lose his patience, Burt finally led them toward the island's center.
Flying Bird Island's town layout was distinctive—circular in shape, with a statue in the central plaza surrounded by rings of streets, eight main roads extending outward like spokes on a wheel.
It looked like a mosquito coil divided into eight neat segments. Whoever designed it must've had serious OCD.
The central statue honored a powerful figure from the island's past—someone who once protected it from pirates. The island was renamed in his memory.
Kadun glanced at Weiss, then casually slung an arm over Burt's shoulder like an old friend.
"Do you know where the Devil Fruit auction will be held?"
Burt didn't mind the gesture—he'd had clients do far worse.
"Yes, it'll be in the auction house to the left of the central plaza. Because of the Devil Fruit, the owner has heavily advertised it. There've been a lot of outsiders arriving recently."
"They're all here for that Devil Fruit."
He gave Weiss a knowing look—years of experience told him that this man was the one calling the shots in the group.
"Do you know what kind of power the fruit has?" Weiss asked, hands in his pockets, observing the pirate-filled surroundings.
Burt looked apologetic. "I'm afraid not. Even the auction house owner hasn't seen the fruit yet."
"Huh? He dares advertise it so boldly without even seeing the fruit himself? Isn't he worried that people will kill him if it turns out to be a scam? Unless... the owner has such status and credibility that no one would dare question him?"
That was the only explanation Weiss could think of. If the auction house hadn't even seen the item, yet still promoted it so boldly, the one behind it must have a formidable reputation.
"You're quite sharp," Burt said, lowering his voice and stepping closer to Weiss. "Word is, this Devil Fruit was provided by an underground kingpin named Joker. The auction house mentioned this in their promotions."
"No one really knows how powerful this Joker is, but his name alone draws a crowd. People trust it won't be a scam."
Burt shook his head. The affairs of the underworld were too far removed from him. Even knowing someone like Joker existed was already rare knowledge.
The underworld was a realm completely separate from the lives of ordinary people.
When Weiss heard that name, he immediately realized the fruit likely wasn't anything extraordinary. If it truly had impressive powers, Joker would have auctioned it in the New World, where he could make a major profit—not in this relatively peaceful region.
Fruits like the Mera Mera no Mi were always meant to fall into allied hands... unless someone like Sabo intercepted them, leading to devastating losses.
Still, since they were already here, it wouldn't hurt to check it out. Who knows? They might stumble upon something unexpected.
After all, protagonists in novels always seem to have lucky encounters at auctions. No reason Weiss's luck should be any worse.
"When does the auction start?"
"In three days."
As the group made their way toward the central plaza, a man dressed in black caught sight of Weiss and hurried away. Weiss gave him a glance—he instantly recognized the man as CP intelligence. But he didn't bother intervening.
The man darted through a narrow alley and arrived at a building that glowed with pink light, even in broad daylight. Laughter and moaning echoed from inside. He stepped up to the door and knocked in a precise rhythm.
A scantily clad woman opened the door and gave him a disgusted look before walking off. The man seemed used to it and didn't care.
He entered and made his way through a series of rooms until he reached a hidden chamber. After countless doors, the room finally brightened.
Inside, a woman with glasses sat on a plush sofa, flipping through a booklet.
The man quickly approached.
"Leader, the Sword Demon has landed on the island. His target is likely the Devil Fruit."
The woman looked up, light gleaming off her glasses. She gently adjusted them with a slender finger.
"Do not engage. That's a direct order from above. No one is to make a move before this incident begins."
"Yes, ma'am."
With that, he quietly exited the secret room. As he passed the main hall, the familiar sounds continued.
He clenched his fists, clearly dissatisfied.