https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-811-Devil-Fruit-Users-Are-Grand-Line-s-Specialty/13539299/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-813-What-to-Do-When-You-Find-an-Ant-Nest/13539312/
Chapter 812: Tree-Lined Path, Bustling Thoroughfare
Chapter 812: Tree-Lined Path, Bustling Thoroughfare
Beyond the battlefield’s aftermath, Kuro reclined once more on his lounge chair, picking up the invitation scroll retrieved from the original pirate crew of this Pirate Ship. He skimmed its contents.
It read: “Dear pirates, friends and foes alike, come indulge in revelry! None shall be turned away, and none pursued. You are cordially invited to join the World’s Greatest feast—Pirate World Expo.”
“This time, we’ve prepared a special event: a treasure hunt game inspired by the legendary One Piece Gol D. Roger!”
Signed at the end: “Pirate Captain Buena Festa.”
“Gold Roger…”
Smoker, standing beside him, muttered gravely, “Festa daring to use his name as a gimmick—this isn’t just talk. From our intel, he truly possesses some so-called treasure from the One Piece era. We just don’t know what it is.”
“Doesn’t matter what it is.”
Kuro tossed the scroll aside. “That’s not our goal. We’re here for revenge. Bartholomew and Festa destroyed Old Man’s G-3. Now he’s returning the favor by wrecking this festival.”
“Still, don’t act rashly, Kuro. If we can uncover the nature of his treasure, it might prove crucial.” Smoker advised.
“No interest. We’re Navy. That old One Piece relic has nothing to do with us. Even if it’s a pointer toward Laugh Tale, it’s irrelevant.” Kuro replied flatly.
“Laugh Tale?!” Smoker’s pupils constricted. The cigar between his lips nearly slipped. “You’ve got information?!”
“Don’t know a thing. Just a random guess.” Kuro rolled his eyes.
Truthfully, he was clueless. The plot had already diverged so much during his journey that even if he’d known details before, they’d faded.
A Navy officer in pirate garb sprinted over. “Captain! We’ve spotted an island!”
“Eh?”
Kuro sat upright, gazing ahead. On the Grand Line’s horizon loomed the silhouette of an island.
It rose like a dome, its front split into a sea channel. The center bore a vast hollow circle. Passing straight through the channel, the path forked left and right, forming a three-way maritime junction—a natural trade harbor.
“Woo!”
A distant howl made them turn. A Marine train thundered past, racing toward the island.
Kuro frowned. “They’ve got Marine trains running? What island is this?”
Smoker answered, “Griegate, the trading town. Trains connect it to Zatanosen Island. But it wasn’t always this lively. With the festival, merchants have flooded in.”
Even before nearing the island, they saw fireworks bursting overhead. Dozens of ships clogged the channels, and the distant cacophony of voices hinted at the chaos within.
“Festa’s no slouch at tourism.”
Kuro stroked his chin, musing, “First, build a reputation. Hold it once every few years to keep people eager. In tourism terms, it’s a grand event that could drive the entire industry. Clever.”
Your idea’s great… but next, it’ll be mine!
He schemed about replicating this model later. His own “all-in-one” tourism business hadn’t opened yet, but nearing completion. Once fully built, he’d launch a similar festival every few years.
Right! That’s the plan.
The Tezoro ship could wait repairs for now. In a few years, he’d resurrect it for the festival, using Marine trains or regular ships otherwise.
Whoosh!
Boom!!
Another firework lit the sky. By now, their vessel neared the island, entering the sea channel.
Frankly, such a bustling place shouldn’t have slipped the Navy’s intelligence.
They’d expected a quiet trail, only to find a highway of chaos.
Along the channel’s banks, ports overflowed with Pirate Ships. Crews milled around nearby shops. The waters teemed with commercial vessels of every shape.
“Hey, Kuro! Isn’t that the Baratie?!”
Lida tugged his coat, pointing at a docked ship. “That’s the Baratie, right? I’ve seen one like it before! That ship’s face looks exactly like Luffy’s Curly Brow!”
Indeed, moored nearby was a ship whose door resembled a yellow-haired, thick-lipped face with prominent curly brows. The East Blue’s Baratie had a similar flagship—the one here was a branch.
“I haven’t eaten at Baratie in ages,” Lida mused, nibbling her finger.
Kuro sighed. “Fine. Let’s check it out. Been a while for me too.”
The ship docked at the port closest to Baratie.
“Hey, we’ll collect intel elsewhere. You two go ahead,” Smoker said, tugging Tashigi’s sleeve.
“Watch yourself.”
Kuro nodded, addressing the rest. “You’re free to explore, but stay alert. Keep your Transponder Snails close. Don’t scatter.”
“Aye!”
The Marines chorused, eyes gleaming. Who wouldn’t want to explore such a lively place?
Kuro himself, accompanied by a few subordinates, strode toward the Baratie’s dock.
A wisp of a gangplank connected the ship to the port. Kuro led the way up, stepping inside. The interior buzzed with patrons.
“Welcome!”
A Popeye-the-Sailor-lookalike rushed forward, hands clasped in a broad, unsettling grin. “Guests! You’ve arrived at the East Blue’s famed Baratie restaurant! For the festival, we’ve opened here. Please, let our cuisine leave you—”
He choked on the word “disappointed” as his eyes locked onto the petite, white-haired girl beside Kuro. His pupils dilated.
“Big… Big Eater—”
“Ahem!”
Kuro’s cough cut him off. Fixing the Popeye-clone with a sharp glare, he said, “We’re here to eat. Get us a table.”
The server blinked, finally recognizing Kuro’s authoritative aura—and the girl’s infamous reputation.
Snapping out of his trance, he clutched a stack of Beri notes Kuro had tossed him. “Guests are gods! Please, sit, sit!”
Kuro claimed a central round table. His subordinates stood respectfully behind him.
“Go eat somewhere else. Stop looming,” he waved them off.
“Aye!”
One Marine barked an order, leading the rest to nearby tables.
The Popeye-lookalike rubbed his hands together. “What’ll you have, sirs?”
“Who’s the head chef?” Kuro asked.
“The old man.”
As he spoke, a thudding echoed from below. A one-legged, bearded man ascended, tapping the floor with his crutch. Fixing Kuro with a stare, he muttered, “You showing up here means…”
He glanced around, lowering his voice. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
This place’s reputation was no joke. The East Blue’s pride—a Vice Admiral now bearing a codename.
Yet here he was, Navy uniform swapped for civilian clothes, drawn to a pirate festival. That alone hinted at its magnitude.
(End of Chapter)
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