Crocodile reached out with his golden left hook, scraping at the rough stone wall and grinding a pinch of the dust between the fingers of his right hand.
This was no dream.
Davy Jones had truly carved out a waterless domain in the depths of the ocean—ten thousand meters below—raising an entire city with nothing but his trident.
Since boarding the Flying Dutchman, Crocodile had seen countless impossible things. Yet even with that mental preparation, this spectacle left him shaken.
His sharp eyes, bisected by the stitch across his nose, glimmered.
Wrapped in a thick fur coat, Crocodile stepped past towering stone pillars. Ahead, Hachi and Porche were making their way toward Davy Jones, seated upon his throne.
They, too, were about to swear their loyalty and receive the "Seal of the Pact."
The timing was perfect.
Hachi would never have thought of this himself—it was surely Kuro or Alvida who had whispered the idea to them.
The so-called "Seal of the Pact" was the brand that appeared upon those who signed a hundred-year contract with Davy Jones.
The mark resembled his pirate flag, though far more grotesque, with many more writhing tentacles.
Those who had been the first to contract with him—Kuro, Alvida, and the others—had all borne this brand.
Now, upon completing their vow, Hachi and Porche would bear it too.
Crocodile watched calmly as they both knelt before Davy Jones.
The black trident was raised, touched once upon each of them—and their bodies flared with a ghostly green glow.
Moments later, the light faded. The pact was sealed.
With that, only Crocodile and Buggy remained in the crew without the Seal.
In another pirate crew, such a thing might be taken as betrayal—or at least, proof of disloyalty.
But Davy Jones never pressed the matter. He never even mentioned it again.
As though he already knew Crocodile and Buggy would one day come to him of their own accord.
Crocodile had to admit, the abilities granted by the seal—enhanced regeneration, heightened constitution—were temptations he found hard to ignore.
At the very least, if his sand were restrained and he had to pit his Haki against another's, that regeneration and resilience would give him confidence.
But still—he could not abandon his ambition.
It was his lifelong dream. Once he chose to set it aside and stand behind Davy Jones, there would be no turning back.
As for Buggy—why had he avoided the pact all this time?
Crocodile didn't know. Likely some ridiculous reason.
Buggy's bounty had been 95 million berries, compared to Crocodile's own 81 million.
And he had always resented how this clownish, unimpressive man had been valued above him.
As Crocodile brooded, Alvida strode in from outside the palace.
She removed her wide white hat, her tall figure casting a long shadow.
"Captain Davy Jones," she said, licking her crimson lips and speaking steadily, "from the direction of Fish-Man Island, another host approaches. Tens of thousands of fish-men and merfolk, led by vanguards riding sea beasts—just like the two scouts before."
Jones had seen plenty of fish-men.
As for mermaids, his memories lingered on those he had once encountered—flesh-eating sirens, luring sailors into the fog with beauty and song. He held no great curiosity for them now.
Whether fish-man or mermaid, neither was worth his concern.
"Send them away," he said.
With his trident, he conjured another grand hall—larger even than the music chamber aboard the Terror Ghost.
A colossal pipe organ stood within, towering like a mountain. Better to play a piece upon it than waste time with intruders.
"Yes."
Alvida bowed her head. She understood well what that order meant: Davy Jones would let them do as they pleased.
The New Fish-Man Pirates now fielded over ten thousand strong—a force Hody had spent years assembling.
He believed that if he returned with Davy Jones' severed head, his prestige would soar, and gathering new recruits would become all the easier.
With more bodies—especially human slaves to drive—his ranks could swell not to ten thousand, but to a hundred thousand.
Their banner was black, bearing the sun symbol of the old crew, but now stained with the mark of a severed human head. Its meaning was all too clear.
Vander Decken sat within a bubble, hoisted high by the giant fish-man Wadatsumi.
Looking back at the vast procession, he clicked his tongue in awe.
"Captain Hody, my dear brother," he said, grinning, "I never imagined you'd gathered so many, and all without whispering a word to me."
Hody, astride a great sea lion, curled his lips in a smile.
"Ryugu Castle only cares for Fish-Man Island's glittering facade, while Jinbe busies himself wagging his tail to humans. Those of us who rot in the gutters—no one has ever cared for them. They are my foundation."
"Hody, look closely. Even here on our own island, it is the merfolk who sit in the seats of power, while the fish-men languish below them. Always the same."
He raised a muscled arm, pointing back.
At the rear of the pirate army trailed civilians from Fish-Man Island itself—fish-men and merfolk both, following of their own accord.
"After this victory," Hody declared, "you, too, will be one of us—washed clean, raised high as a hero. And I will win even more of the people's hearts, showing them in these turbulent times who their true protectors are."
"Not Whitebeard. Not Jinbe. Not Ryugu Castle. Us. Only us."
Vander Decken, the wanted outcast of the island, instinctively lowered his hat brim to hide his face when his eyes fell on the civilians.
"Captain Hody," he said uneasily, "you lured the three princes out and had them stabbed with poisoned blades… isn't that plan a little crude? King Neptune may already suspect the truth…"
Hody waved him off.
"Let him suspect. I believe there are clever minds on Fish-Man Island—they will not wholly trust the story we've spread."
"Then why—?"
"Because when Whitebeard falls, and the sea wolves descend in packs, pillaging this island, then they will believe. They'll have no choice."
They would not only believe—they would beg Hody to save them, raise him up, and bind their hopes to him.
It was the only way the island could survive.
"You seem quite convinced Whitebeard will fall."
"Madame Shyarly's prophecies have never missed. And tell me—what Emperor could truly claim to face the Navy's finest and come away unscathed?"
Hody threw back his head and laughed.
"If this war ends without several of Whitebeard's commanders dead, then I'll say the Marines were only playing house, colluding with him to fatten their prey."
"Quite so, heh heh heh…"
At that moment, Dosun—the hammerhead shark fish-man officer—returned atop a sea beast, a massive hammer slung across his shoulder.
"Captain Hody, we've arrived," he said, his flat face twisted with astonishment, as if he'd seen something unearthly.
"What is it?" Hody asked.
"Captain… they really have built a city ahead…"
Heh.
Hody pulled hard on the reins, his sea lion surging forward.
Racing past a towering undersea ridge, he saw it: the fortress their scouts had reported.
They hadn't lied.
It sprawled across the seafloor on a scale rivaling Fish-Man Island itself.
Castles, towers, drawbridges, and walls—grey and black interwoven—rose in serried ranks.
Spire tips like fangs. Windows like beast's eyes. The entire citadel bristled with savagery.
And above it all hung a false sun—or perhaps a moon—shifting from ghostly green to blood-red, pulsing between the two.
Most bizarre of all, the city stood upon a vast transparent dome inverted over the seabed, holding back the surrounding ocean.
The Flying Dutchman lay grounded in a corner of its walls.
Upon one fang-like spire sprawled a massive orange Kraken from the North Sea, its many tentacles clutching the towers as it made the citadel its new lair.
Even Hody, hardened as he was, felt his chest swell and his brow tighten at the sight. His men were even more shaken.
How had the Davy Jones Pirates raised such a city—this vast, this monstrous—in a single day?
He could imagine many things, but none were answers.
His doubts made him waver. But then he saw Vander Decken, with his severed right hand, watching him.
I can't let him see me falter. I can't let my men see hesitation.
Hody steeled himself, and gave the order.
They would storm the city.
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