"Hmph, I'd like to see what kind of waves that outdated relic can stir up. Ghost Spider, Flying Squirrel, Dauberman—you three prepare immediately. Each of you take a warship and rendezvous with me at Marineford Harbor," Sakazuki ordered sharply.
The three named officers stood at once and strode out of the conference room without hesitation. All three were Vice Admirals of Marine Headquarters, seasoned and formidable. Each one represented elite combat strength just beneath the Admirals, and Sakazuki was determined to crush this mission with overwhelming force.
Meanwhile, the news of Qin Chuan's prison break had already spread like wildfire across the world.
The chaos he caused in Impel Down drew the attention of the most influential figures in the underworld, including the infamous Morgans.
A user of the Bird-Bird Fruit, Model: Albatross, Morgans was president of the World Economic News Agency and the single most well-informed figure in the world. He dealt in global secrets and headlines, thriving on chaos.
The moment Qin Chuan escaped, Morgans bribed surviving jailers and secured firsthand footage of the battle. As soon as he viewed it, he knew this was history in the making.
In bold print, his front page screamed:
"A New Emperor Rises—The Times Have Changed!"
Morgans used the footage to exaggerate and glorify Qin Chuan's battle, portraying him as a force of nature who tore through Impel Down in half a day and walked out alongside Douglas Barrett—right under the noses of Marine reinforcements.
The paper circulated worldwide within hours. Panic followed. Debates erupted across islands and seas. The name "Qin Chuan" had become a thunderclap. But the man himself remained unaware.
Elsewhere, a small Marine warship slipped quietly into a modest East Blue port. Qin Chuan and Douglas Barrett disembarked and made their way into a coastal town called Borg.
As they stepped into the town, Qin Chuan paused, his eyes narrowing. A strange flag fluttered from buildings and rooftops—two intertwined skulls with a blood-red shark in the center. Its beak was sharp and menacing. The entire design oozed chaos and rebellion.
"This isn't under Marine jurisdiction?" Qin Chuan muttered. "Where's the seagull flag of peace?"
Douglas Barrett glanced at the symbol and chuckled.
"Even in the East Blue, some towns have fallen under pirate rule. This flag belongs to a local crew, and by flying it openly, they're making one thing clear—this island belongs to them now."
Qin Chuan scowled.
"Pathetic. The Navy can't even secure the East Blue. How can they ever hope to challenge the New World?"
"Don't blame them entirely," Barrett replied, shrugging. "Blame what my former captain said at his execution. His final words birthed a tidal wave of pirates. The Navy has limited forces. They can't station troops on every island. The moment they leave, vultures like these pirates swoop in."
Qin Chuan nodded thoughtfully, eyeing the strange flag again. Something about the design tugged at his memory, but he couldn't quite place it. Then again, with East Blue crawling with small-time crews, it was no surprise he hadn't heard of this one.
"Let's grab a drink," Barrett suggested casually, spotting a small tavern at the end of the road.
Pirates and booze were inseparable. And for Barrett, who had just spent twenty years locked away, the idea of a good drink was irresistible.
Qin Chuan was curious, too. He wanted to taste the rum of this world—see how it compared to what he knew.
They entered the tavern. Almost instantly, they sensed something was off.
The room was full. But the patrons weren't ordinary men. Every single one of them was a Fishman.
Fishmen—half-human, half-fish—could breathe both air and water. They usually lived in the underwater paradise known as Fishman Island, 10,000 meters below the sea. On the surface, they were rare and often targets of human discrimination. Tensions ran high between their kind and mankind, and it was uncommon to see so many of them on land, let alone in a remote East Blue town.
The moment Qin Chuan and Barrett entered, every Fishman turned to look.
Qin Chuan's voice was low and calm.
"Odd to see this many Fishmen here."
Barrett smirked.
"They're small fry. Say the word, and I'll erase them all right now."
"No need," Qin Chuan said firmly. "They're not our targets."
Despite his strength, Qin Chuan wasn't one to shed blood needlessly. He lived by a principle—even in a lawless world.
They walked to the bar and took their seats.
"What can I get you?" the tavern owner asked politely.
"Two rums," Barrett answered after scanning the bottles.
Qin Chuan, unfamiliar with the drinks here, nodded without objection.
The bartender disappeared behind the counter. But before he returned, a sharp-eyed Fishman with a long snout rose from his table and started walking directly toward them.