"What a city bursting with artistic energy!"
Inside 'Sculpture City' Skoggy, Cross strode down its bustling, spacious streets, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he eagerly took in the exotic air. His gaze swept from side to side, occasionally reaching out to run his fingers along the surface of the many sculptures lining the roads.
The streets were teeming with people, not just locals, but travelers from all over the world, including sculptors and artists who had journeyed here for the city's renown.
On both sides of the road, artists of all ages and backgrounds, men and women alike, sat cross-legged on the clean stone pavement, carving away at blocks of wood or stone. The atmosphere was rich with artistic fervor.
"Tsk tsk~ It'd be terrifying if all these things suddenly came to life, wouldn't it?"
Borsalino strolled lazily beside him, dressed casually in a crisp white long-sleeved shirt and yellow-tinted sunglasses, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He moved with an exaggerated swagger, looking more like a street thug than a high-ranking Vice Admiral of the Navy Headquarters.
Cross gave him a helpless glance before resting his hand once more on a nearby stone knight statue. A hint of youthful hesitation flickered across his face as he murmured, "Vice Admiral Borsalino… are we really going to launch an operation on this island?"
Pulling down his sunglasses, Borsalino regarded Cross seriously for a moment before speaking in a slow, deliberate tone. "I know what you're thinking, Cross-kun. But the sea is vast. The chances of intercepting them out there are slim. The only certainty we have is that the Impaler Pirates will stop at Carocal Island to resupply."
"But… couldn't we at least warn the locals ahead of time? Let them evacuate temporarily?" Cross frowned in concern.
"Carocal Island is huge. The Navy doesn't have the means to monitor the entire island. This is the cost of enacting justice," Borsalino replied flatly. "Besides, the island has a population in the hundreds of thousands. Neither the Navy nor the World Government has the capacity to evacuate everyone in time. Trying to do so would only cause more chaos."
"That said," he added with rare earnestness, "we'll do our best to keep the battle outside the city; in the plains, forests, or along the coast. Once we locate the Impaler Pirates, we'll move the civilians to safe zones on the island. Our goal is to minimize casualties."
It was uncharacteristic of Borsalino, his usual mocking tone had given way to a calm, almost detached seriousness.
Cross fell silent, gazing at the vibrant life of the city around him, a deep sense of frustration knotting in his chest.
He understood Borsalino's logic, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.
After all, he wasn't from this world, he was from Earth, a place of peace.
Unlike Borsalino and the other hardened officers of the Navy, he couldn't so easily compartmentalize the prospect of a battle on a densely populated island, nor ignore the potential toll on innocent lives.
Then, as if sensing the tension, Borsalino flashed a mischievous smile and pointed ahead. "Hey, Cross-kun. If you could bring that thing to life, I bet you'd scare the hell out of everyone."
Cross followed the direction of his finger and saw a large plaza up ahead. At its center stood a massive sculpture, an enormous black dragon, roughly twenty meters long. Its metallic sheen gleamed in the sunlight, as though it were cast from pure metal.
The sculpture had the body of a cougar, two massive bat-like wings, four powerful limbs, and a head resembling a horse's, complete with curved horns, scaled hide, a long serpentine tail ending in a spike, and massive claws on each limb. It was rearing up in a roar, frozen in a pose of raw power and fury. The craftsmanship was so lifelike it was almost unnerving.
A crowd had gathered, many visibly thrilled to see the statue. Some were even snapping photos with their Den Den Mushi.
"I think that one's the work of a master," Borsalino commented with a glint of amusement. "It's the pride of 'Sculpture City' Skoggy. Invaluable."
"Ahem…"
Cross straightened his expression and cleared his throat. "For the sake of justice, a mere sculpture is of little consequence. I believe the mayor and citizens of 'Sculpture City' Skoggy will understand."
"How terrifying," Borsalino chuckled, lips puckered. "If that black dragon really came to life, it'd be a nightmare for ordinary people. Anyway, go do your thing. The rest, leave it to Navy HQ and Sengoku-san."
Cross didn't respond. His eyes sparkled as he quickly strode toward the sculpture.
A solid metal dragon, impervious to bullets and blades. Even weaker swordsmen wouldn't be able to cut through it, let alone civilians. On a battlefield, it would be the perfect war machine.
Borsalino watched him go with a lazy smile, preparing to follow at his own pace, when suddenly, a man stepped from the crowd and blocked his path.
He wore a black suit, black trousers, black leather boots, and a black fedora, his presence cold and composed.
"Vice Admiral Borsalino. I have something to report."
"You're with CP, aren't you? Stalking me like this… so scary~" Borsalino quipped, unfazed by the man's sudden appearance.
"I'm Agent Ferry, CP8," the man said firmly. "Just moments ago, we lost contact with our embedded agent in the Impaler Pirates. Codename: Birdshot. I believe his cover's been blown."
"Oh my~ that's quite the scary turn of events," Borsalino said, his tone sobering slightly. "If that's true… then Vlad Uren likely already knows we're planning an ambush on this island."
…
One hour earlier.
A massive pirate ship sailed through the waters off Carocal Island. Its prow was shaped into a long, black spike. A black flag flew from the mainmast, emblazoned with a white skull impaled on a black spike, the same symbol also adorned the tattered red sails.
The ship was roughly the same size as a Navy flagship, though its hull was scarred with cannon blasts and cracks, clearly marked by the aftermath of a recent battle.
"Your Grace! Land ahead! That should be Carocal Island!"
From the crow's nest atop the mainmast, a lookout lowered his spyglass and shouted down excitedly.
Creak—
Cough, cough— "So we've arrived, then…"
The door to the captain's quarters creaked open, and out stepped a pale-skinned man with jet-black hair, coughing lightly into a black handkerchief.
He was tall, nearly three meters, with regal, handsome features. Around forty years old, he wore a golden crown atop his head and had long golden hair tied back with a black ribbon. His attire was lavish: a gold-trimmed black coat over a red checkered shirt, and a dark crimson cape. On his back was the same emblem, a white skull pierced by a black spike.
Captain of the Impaler Pirates, Paramecia-type Thorn-Thorn Fruit user, the Impaler Duke, Vlad Uren!
Bounty: 762 million Berries!!!
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