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As they neared Sabaody, the sea traffic increased—rchant ships, pirate vessels bound for the New World—all converging on the archipelago.
The Yarukiman Mangrove harbor bustled with activity—a stark contrast to the deserted docks Arthur had encountered before.
"Back to this island of wonders..." Arthur, carrying the chest of Belly, gazed at the approaching mangroves, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. His last visit had ended in capture and imprisonnt. This ti, he felt a sense of calm confidence.
He instructed the pirates to dock in Grove 57—the shipbuilding and coating district, then disembarked.
He decided to keep the ship. It was a decent vessel, and Pizarro, having been tossed overboard by his own crew, wasn't coming back to claim it. It was effectively his now.
He dismissed the remaining pirates—though they hardly needed encouragent, scattering like rats fleeing a sinking ship.
There were two ways to reach the New World: cross the Red Line through Mary Geoise with the World Governnt's permission—or coat your ship at Sabaody and travel through the deep-sea currents to Fish-Man Island.
Arthur saw a third option: Simply fly across.
But he needed a crew—and a ship was essential for that. While the Thor would eventually be his flagship, a vessel capable of flight, he still wanted to experience the underwater journey to Fish-Man Island.
Finding a coating chanic and then eting Jessica were his imdiate priorities.
He'd scanned the island with his Observation Haki upon arrival, but hadn't found Jessica. He assud she was resting.
——
The docks were crowded with coating chanics, all vying for Arthur's business, swarming him the mont he stepped off the ship.
"Captain! Entrust your ship to us! We've been coating ships for decades! Only three failures!"
"Choose us! We have a perfect record!"
Their boisterous sales pitches were overwhelming.
Arthur frowned, raising his hand to silence them.
He knew what "coating failure" ant—a ship unable to withstand the crushing pressure of the deep sea, imploding—sending its crew to a watery grave.
The pressure at those depths was imnse—enough to crush even steel, let alone wood.
Failure ant death—no exceptions.
"I don't care about your success or failure rates. How much for a coating job?" Arthur asked, gesturing towards his ship.
"A vessel of that size—Ten million Belly!"
"Eight Million—for you, Captain!"
"Seven million! Our best price!"
The desperate shouts and escalating price war grated on Arthur's nerves. He pointed at a middle-aged man with calloused hands and a kind face.
"Enough! You—you're hired." He tossed the chest of Belly to the man. "Take twenty million. I need it done in three days. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" The man, whose arms were thicker than most people's waists, nodded eagerly, quickly counting out the money and returning the chest to Arthur.
A skilled coating chanic could easily finish the job in three days with a small crew.
The other chanics, seeing the deal was done, dispersed.
——
Arthur left the shipbuilding district, heading for Grove 42, browsing the tourist shops and local specialties.
Sabaody truly was a beautiful place. He understood now why Rayleigh had chosen to settle here, under the Marines' noses. It was the perfect hiding place—the most dangerous place being the safest. And its unique charm—it was hard to resist.
After an hour of leisurely browsing, Arthur, having spent several million Belly, finally found so clothes to his liking. He discarded his prison garb, changing into a crisp white shirt and his familiar blue greatcoat. He felt like himself again.
His next stop—Sabaody Park, the amusent park.
He'd told Jessica to wait for him there. He wasn't sure if she was still around.
Shimring bubbles drifted through the air, catching the sunlight, painting the sky with iridescent colors.
The park was filled with bubble-thed rides and attractions—a Ferris wheel, a roller coaster, bumper cars—the air filled with the laughter and excited shouts of children and adults alike.
Arthur strolled through the park, admiring the whimsical architecture. Suddenly, he smiled.
He spotted a familiar sign—"Jessica's Dream House"—its colorful letters beckoning custors to the bustling restaurant.
This had to be it.
He quickened his pace, pushing through the bubble doors and looking around.
"Welco!" A waiter greeted him.
"I'm looking for Jessica. Where can I find her?" Arthur asked directly.
"Our manager...?" The waiter's eyes widened in recognition. "You're...!"
He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a photograph and comparing it to Arthur.
"You're the one she's been waiting for! Please—co with ." The waiter's tone turned serious as he led Arthur through the crowded restaurant to a back room.
Arthur, his brow furrowing slightly, followed, his Observation Haki sensing no imdiate danger.
——
"Mr. Arthur—Our manager told us about you. She said to give you this key when you arrived." The waiter handed Arthur a strange, multi-sided key.
Arthur took the key, confused. "Where is she? And what's this for?"
"She didn't say where she was going. Only that the Marines took her." The waiter's tone was respectful, his voice low. "The key...it's for a storage unit in Grove 1—owned by the Giberson Family. She said you'd find sothing you need there."
The waiter bowed and left.
"Taken by the Marines?" Arthur wasn't surprised.
Jessica's parents were head chefs at Marine Headquarters. They had connections. It wouldn't have been difficult for them to find her.
"Grove 1—Let's see what she left for ." Arthur turned and walked out of the restaurant, heading towards the lawless district.
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