Mock Town, East Coast. In front of the half-castle.
The sea breeze swept across the rugged coastline, and the cigarette Cricket had been holding in his mouth had fallen onto the sand. He looked up, dazed, staring at the black-haired youth before him—a man whose physique was as tall as an iron tower and who exuded an aura as steady as an abyss.
"Do you... truly believe in that legend?"
Cricket's voice was raspy, carrying an undisguised tremble. For decades, he had risked his life diving every day to prove that his ancestor, Noland, was not a liar. He had met nothing but ridicule and cold stares. Now, a top-tier pirate who had stared down an Admiral was telling him—with infuriating certainty—that the City of Gold was in the sky.
"On this ocean, only the weak treat the unknown as a fairy tale," Ace said calmly. "I only believe in what I am about to conquer. Tell me the location and time of the Knock Up Stream."
Cricket took a deep breath, suppressing his emotions. He picked up his cigarette, relit it, and took a long drag.
"You've come at the right time. The Knock Up Stream is a localized cataclysm. Beneath these waters exists a massive geothermal void deeper than the seabed. When cold seawater flows into it, the heat causes it to flash-boil. The pressure builds until it erupts with enough force to launch a galleon into the stratosphere. The eruption lasts exactly one minute."
Cricket pointed to the thick, oppressive clouds gathering on the horizon. "That cloud layer—the Cumulorebus—it never rains. it only devours light. It's the precursor. According to my calculations, the next eruption is at noon tomorrow, south of Jaya."
"Noon tomorrow," Sabo repeated, adjusting his hat. "But why do you say 'somewhere' south? Is the eruption point random?"
"The exact point is random, but I can judge the general vicinity," Cricket explained, his expression turning grave. "The problem is the magnetic field. In that darkness, your Log Pose will spin wildly. If you lose your way in the mist when the stream hits, the pressure will tear your ship to scrap."
"You need a South Bird."
Cricket ducked into his shack and returned with a drawing of a bird with a massive, downturned beak. "It's a species unique to this island. Its head is a biological compass—it always points due south. Only its guidance can lead you to the eye of the eruption in the pitch-black mist."
"Find the bird. That's the only help I can give you."
The Primeval Forest. One hour later.
"Ouch! What kind of ghost-bug dares to bite this great man!"
Buggy slapped a poisonous mosquito on his neck, pacing the humid forest in a rage. "This place is a maze! How are we supposed to find one bird with a big mouth in all this brush? Do we have to check every single branch?"
"Who said we have to find it ourselves?" Carina sat on a clean stump and pulled a handful of premium nuts from her bag. "Berries, it's up to you."
She fed the Macaw and tapped his forehead. Resonance Bond: Deployed.
Receiving the mental blueprint of the South Bird, Berries flapped his wings and shot into the canopy with a piercing screech. Buggy stared, skeptical. "You're letting that mongrel do the scouting? What can a parrot do?"
Carina ignored him. In her mind, Berries wasn't just flying; he was broadcasting. High above the forest, he let out a territorial, authoritative cry. Within minutes, hundreds of local crows, gulls, and raptors converged on him like soldiers reporting to an officer.
Berries circled them, spreading the intent Carina had shared: Find the big-beaked bird. The forest's avian population transformed into an all-encompassing reconnaissance network. Ten minutes hadn't even passed when feedback flooded back.
"Found it! Caw!"
Through Berries' shared vision, Carina saw a strange bird perched on a towering tree, its head fixed firmly toward the south.
"Southwest. Eight hundred meters. The tallest tree," Carina said, standing up.
"So fast?!" Buggy's jaw dropped.
They rushed to the coordinates and found a hilarious sight. The South Bird, which usually loved to mock and prank humans, was currently pinned to a branch by a dozen ferocious hawks. Berries was standing on its head, triumphantly pecking at its feathers.
"Caw! Caught it! Get rich! Caw!"
"Well done, Berries." Carina rewarded him as Buggy used his Chop-Chop powers to fly his hands up and snatch the dazed South Bird by the neck, stuffing it into a bag. What took the canon Straw Hats a night of misery took the Eclipse Pirates a coffee break.
At Dusk. The Eclipse.
The ship was a hive of activity.
"Boiler pressure test: Complete!" Jeno shouted from the hold, his mechanical exoskeleton humming. He patted the Stellar Obsidian ram. "Give the word, Captain, and this ship will sail against a waterfall if it has to!"
"Logistics: Ready," Leona added, sharpening her cleavers. "The larders are packed with high-calorie beast meat. We can fight a war in the clouds for months."
Sabo stood at the helm, testing the tension of the wheel. The crew was upgraded. The gear was polished. Everything was ready.
Ace walked to the bow, a silhouette of iron against the setting sun. He looked south toward the Cumulorebus clouds—a wall of black ink threatening to crush the ocean.
To others, it was a death sentence. To Ace, it was the gateway to a golden legend and a self-proclaimed "God" who needed to be knocked off his throne.
"Rest tonight. Reach your peak," Ace's voice rang across the deck.
"Noon tomorrow. Target: The Cumulorebus."
"Let's take this ship to the heavens!"
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