Kid's cynical plan was not just feasible; it was brutally effective.
Faced with the combined pressure of the world's greed and ambition, even an Emperor's crew like the Whitebeard Pirates would have no choice but to compromise or be torn apart.
As he spoke, Kid scanned his surroundings, his eyes searching for the next target to plunder.
His gaze swept across the entire harbor before finally settling on a few wealthy-looking merchant ships trying to flee the area.
A wide, maniacal grin split his face.
"Hahaha! Let's move out, boys!"
Upon hearing the command, his crew responded with a bloodthirsty, unified roar.
"AYE!"
Immediately after, the entire fleet of the Kid Pirates shot forward like arrows loosed from a bow, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake as they began their violent fundraising campaign.
…
The news did not stay contained to the Grand Line.
Like an unstoppable storm, it swept across the seas, and soon, even the Four Blues had heard of the Whitebeard Pirates' Devil Fruit sale.
The details were on the lips of every pirate, merchant, and marine: the transaction was scheduled to take place on the infamous pirate haven of Jaya Island, one month from now.
In an instant, Jaya became the new center of the world, the target destination for every ambitious soul across the seas.
In the West Blue, North Blue, and South Blue, a new, frantic wave of piracy erupted.
Crews that had been dormant for years suddenly appeared, looting and pillaging with a desperate urgency.
They seized all valuables—anything and everything that was worth money was taken.
Alarms blared daily at Marine branch bases as they mobilized their forces, only to be overwhelmed by the sheer number of rampaging pirates.
Even the typically peaceful East Blue, the weakest of the seas, saw an unprecedented surge in pirate activity, with wealth being plundered left and right.
Faced with the tangible, purchasable temptation of a Devil Fruit, no one could resist.
As long as they gathered enough funds, they could buy a power that could change their lives, a power that could make them a king.
Who would want to miss such a monumental opportunity?
The underworld, the shadowy economy that thrived on rarity and secrets, suffered an unprecedented shock.
The price of black-market Devil Fruits plummeted overnight.
The emperors of the underworld who controlled vast resources and networks saw their profits dwindle with terrifying speed.
For decades, they had relied on selling their "mystery box" Devil Fruits to maintain their wealth and power, forcing buyers to gamble blindly on what they might get.
The most expensive of these could even fetch five billion Berries.
Yet, the emergence of the Whitebeard Pirates' offer had shattered this status quo.
They offered Devil Fruits at a fixed, almost reasonable price of three billion Berries each and most shockingly of all, buyers could even choose the fruit's ability.
Given the choice, the answer was obvious.
The black-market merchants, of course, refused to back down without a fight, and began scheming in the shadows.
"One month from now, a massive Devil Fruit trade on Jaya Island. We have to be there."
"You want to rob them? Are you insane? That's the Whitebeard Pirates we're talking about!"
"Hmph! Let the others do the fighting. There'll always be fools who don't know any better. We'll play it by ear and pick up the scraps."
…
The Devil's Sea… The Florian Triangle.
Here, a dense, perpetual fog, like a heavy black veil, shrouded the entire area.
Sunlight seemed forever unable to pierce through this layer of mist, leaving the sea in a state of eternal, gloomy twilight.
It was an eerie, bone-chilling place.
Even the most renowned and hardened pirate crews steered clear of this mysterious sea, for it not only concealed countless unknown dangers but also harbored terrifying legends of sea monsters and ghost ships.
In such a spine-chilling place, a massive sailing ship moved slowly through the dark waters.
Rather than a ship, it more closely resembled a floating, haunted island.
This colossal vessel was none other than the "Thriller Bark," the personal island-ship of one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea—Gekko Moria.
Inside the dilapidated, gothic castle on the island's center, Moria sat slumped upon a massive throne, his entire torso wrapped in thick, blood-soaked bandages.
An enormous, grievous wound stretched from his shoulder to his abdomen.
Though tightly bound, it could not stop the slow, steady seepage of fresh blood.
A faint smell of blood hung heavy in the air, oppressive and unsettling.
"Moria-sama, your injuries haven't healed yet! Please don't move so recklessly!" the ghost princess, Perona, cried anxiously, her voice thick with a worry that was very real.
Hearing her words, Moria only ignored them, his body wracked by a series of deep, wet coughs.
Each cough sent an involuntary tremor through his massive frame, causing his already fragile wounds to split open further.
Watching this, Perona's heart clenched even tighter.
"That damned… Katakuri…" Moriah ground out the name of his enemy between gritted teeth, his voice a low, hateful rasp brimming with a furious resentment.
"I was just minding my own business in the Florian Triangle! What did I ever do to them?! Cough… cough!"
No sooner had he spoken than another fit of violent coughing overtook him.
Truth be told, had Moria not possessed an exceptionally robust constitution, he would have long since bled to death.
Yet even so, his current condition was far from optimistic.
The thought only stoked the flames of his rage higher.
With a pained grunt, he forced himself to his feet—despite the agony it caused—and roared into the empty chamber.
"BIG MOM! I SWEAR I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE! I'LL DRAG YOU ALL INTO THE SHADOWS WITH ME!"
His hate-filled bellow reverberated through the castle, shaking the very walls.
His other commander, Absalom, had already perished in that brutal, one-sided battle, leaving only Perona and the cowardly Dr. Hogback with him.
"At least… they didn't find you," Moria murmured softly, his rage momentarily subsiding into a grim exhaustion.
It was one of the few strokes of luck he had left.
His voice was low and hoarse, heavy with resignation.
Perona nodded shakily, her face as pale as paper, her eyes still flickering with a lingering, haunting fear.
"I never expected them to suddenly appear inside the castle," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"They attacked without even saying a word…"
"Hmph!" Moria snorted coldly before lifting his gaze to the sky, his eyes hardening with a renewed resolve.
He was already thinking about how to exact his revenge, how to make those who had invaded his territory pay the ultimate price.
Since the castle's roof had been blown clean off in the battle, he could see the night sky even from inside his throne room.
The sky was completely obscured by the thick, black fog of the Triangle, as if the entire world were shrouded in darkness.
Just then, a News Coo flew by, shivering its head darting around in terror as if ghosts and monsters might leap out at it at any moment.
When it passed over Moria castle, it glanced down in surprise at the roofless structure, hesitated for a moment, but ultimately circled back and dropped a newspaper.
This place was so bizarre, home to one of the news agency's regular subscribers.
Even if no one was left, the scheduled distribution had to be fulfilled.
"Huh?" Moria gaze, which had been lost in thoughts of vengeance, was drawn to the fluttering paper as it landed on the stone floor.
"Is there some major news?"