https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-904-The-Captain-Fighting-for-Survival-for-His-Kin/13540130/
Chapter 905: A Hundred Theories, No Answers
Chapter 905: A Hundred Theories, No Answers
Joe Rudolph still left because Klah couldn’t decide whether to exchange for supplies. Navy Resell’s supplies were obviously not for sale, and Kuro was strictly guarding against this. Who dared sell them would die.
Klah originally wanted Kuro to make the decision, but when he brought up the matter, Joe Rudolph simply walked away.
“Want to buy supplies?”
Hearing Klah’s report, Kuro pondered for a moment before saying, “A captain willing to do anything for his tribe’s survival? Not bad. Strong enough to have leverage, but just how strong? We’ll need to run some experiments.”
Kuro still held some expectations for this Half-fishman. But if he died, it would mean his strength wasn’t enough. Becoming one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea came at a price, after all.
“You go inform David. Let him do me a favor—if Joe Rudolph dies, investigate the Half-fishman race. If possible, let them join Dressrosa. Thousands of people are still a force to reckon with.”
Dressrosa was always inclusive. This wasn’t Kuro forcefully demanding a favor from David; it was naturally beneficial for Dressrosa. A marginalized group, once accepted, would inevitably unleash strong operational capability and loyalty. Of course, this premise required the one doing the accepting to meet certain qualifications.
Still, one thing puzzled Kuro.
Half-fishmen weren’t just humans crossed with fishmen—they were also humans crossed with fish.
Kuro remembered that Dellinger, the Fighterfish Half-fishman, was under Donquixote Doflamingo’s command. Right, that Fighterfish near Dressrosa’s sea area. How did fish and humans even combine? Even if they did, why could they reproduce? This question left Kuro utterly baffled.
Even after living in this world for over twenty years, he still felt stunned by certain “wonders” of the Grand Line.
Was there no reproductive isolation?!
How chaotic.
…
Half a month later, in a sea area of the New World.
This sea area had a desolate island with high terrain. The island itself was barren, but beneath its cliffs lay a rocky zone filled with both visible and hidden reefs—a natural forbidden zone for ships. At the reef’s end stood a natural cave, its exterior shrouded in darkness.
A small boat gradually approached. No one manned it—only countless cargo boxes. Ahead, a massive head surfaced, swimming forward, and as it moved, the boat followed, pulled by ropes tied to Joe Rudolph’s back.
Joe Rudolph emerged from the water, fumbled in his chest, and retrieved a conch shell. Blowing it, he unleashed a deep, resonant horn.
As the sound echoed, faint lights gradually appeared inside the dark cave. Reflected sunlight glinted off the smooth skin of the cave’s dwellers.
Figures emerged from the darkness, their silhouettes revealed.
A young man with shark-like fins on his back grinned widely, his sharp teeth bared as he waved toward Joe Rudolph in the Grand Line, “It’s Joe Rudolph, our leader! He’s back!”
“I’m home, Packlin,” Joe Rudolph smiled. “I brought plenty of supplies.”
“Finally!” Packlin, the shark Half-fishman, shouted excitedly. He signaled others to dive into the sea, swim toward the boat, and hoist the cargo boxes onto their heads before returning.
These Half-fishmen, both male and female, varied in build—some, like Packlin, were robust, while others bore fishman characteristics but were frail and thin.
“Joe Rudolph, our leader!”
“Leader Joe Rudolph, you’re back!”
As he entered the cave, numerous Half-fishmen gazed at him with reverence, greeting him respectfully. Joe Rudolph’s smile never wavered. His two long, catfish-like mustaches quivered slightly as he nodded to the Half-fishmen, entering the cave’s depths.
The cave had multiple levels. The lowest level was a natural plaza with a large water pool connected to the outside sea. Around it stood stone-built huts, their interiors adorned with battered furniture and a damp, moldy smell. A spiral staircase carved into the rock led upward.
“Joe Rudolph, our leader!”
A group of young Half-fishmen swarmed around, clinging to his legs as the towering figure approached. They looked up, asking eagerly, “Did you bring us gifts?”
“Of course.”
Joe Rudolph smiled. “They’re all in the boxes behind. The one with the pink ribbon is yours.”
“Yay! Thank you, Joe Rudolph!”
The children cheered, rushing outside.
“Joe Rudolph…”
From an upper level, a figure with octopus-tendril-like hair watched him.
“It’s Dagon,” Joe Rudolph recognized him with a smile. He climbed the staircase, reached the top, and said, “Let’s talk inside.”
Dagon stared at the joyous children below, pressed his lips tightly, and followed Joe Rudolph into the upper cave.
This was Joe Rudolph’s residence. Inside, two others already waited.
One was a muscular Serrated Teeth Shark Half-fishman, his tyrannical aura radiating from his shark-like nose, though the rest of his body appeared human.
The other had a long snout with teeth like serrated blades, resembling a crocodile moray eel.
The Serrated Teeth Shark Half-fishman scoffed, “Leader, why waste money on gifts? Our supplies are already scarce. Those cursed human merchants keep hiking prices—we’re broke.”
Joe Rudolph chuckled, “Don’t disappoint the kids, Taylor.”
“Hmph, if you ask me, we should seek out the Sun Pirates. With their name, those fishmen would surely accept us…”
“Taylor!!”
Before Taylor could finish, Dagon glared at him, “Do you even realize what you’re saying, Taylor?!”
Taylor pressed his lips together, lowering his head. “Sorry, Leader Joe Rudolph. Big Brother Dagon.”
Joe Rudolph shook his head, his unshaken smile remaining, “It’s fine. Taylor doesn’t know everything—it’s natural.”
He paused, his gaze distant. “The Sun Pirates… such a distant memory.”
“Joe Rudolph,” Dagon interrupted, shifting focus. “How much did this cost? The supplies look heavy.”
“Over six hundred million.”
Joe Rudolph explained, “I approached countless merchants, but none would sell. In the end, I had to beg Umiat’s subordinates in the 【Deep Sea Current】 to sell at an exorbitant price.”
Half-fishmen weren’t defined merely by visible fins. Some could even hide theirs. But their skin and other characteristics betrayed them—traits impossible to conceal. Anyone living in the New World could instantly recognize a Half-fishman, yet what choice did they have? This was their home.
They were Half-fishmen—more human than fish. Unlike full fishmen, they couldn’t traverse the frenzied sea currents beneath the Red Line. They couldn’t reach 【Paradise】 or the Four Seas. Perhaps only in remote areas of the Four Seas, where information was sparse, could they live normally.
(End of Chapter)
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