Roger hadn't expected the ferocious Garp to pull back, but he wasn't about to let up. Meanwhile, Chinjao gave up the chase entirely, setting his sights on Elan Island to register as a member of the Pirate Guild.
Hoping to avoid being hunted by the Hell Pirates' top brass, Chinjao and his crew parted ways with the Roger Pirates. They hoisted a green flag, signaling neutrality, and sailed cautiously toward Elan Island.
...
Stepping onto the Hell Pirates' core territory for the first time, Chinjao's crew was floored by the island's bustling prosperity. No wonder they were the richest pirate crew since Vesper's death. Not only had they inherited a chunk of the Ten Kings Island fortune, but their business savvy outshone even Vesper's. Word was, the underworld's biggest players were cozying up to the Hell Pirates.
Captain Brook's woman, Charlotte Linlin, had hosted her first-ever Tea Party, drawing underworld titans and uncrowned emperors alike—a testament to the Hell Pirates' growing clout and bright future.
The Happo Navy forked over a hefty registration fee, essentially a glorified protection racket, to officially join the Pirate Guild. As long as they kept the peace, they could sail freely in Hell Pirates' territory.
...
Chinjao stared at his registration papers, fuming.
"Silver rank? Silver? I'm two ranks below Roger?!"
A 500-million-Belly bounty, and he was just a Silver-tier pirate? The nerve!
"Chinjao-san," a polite female pirate at the front desk chimed in, "all you need is to take down a Navy HQ Vice Admiral or a pirate with a bounty over 500 million Belly, rack up some points, and you'll hit Gold rank in no time. Then you'll get even better discounts!"
She wasn't fazed by his temper—backed by the Hell Pirates, she had no reason to be. Besides, Chinjao had already been crushed by Golden Lion Shiki. Now here he was, meekly registering like a good boy.
"Hmph. Fine, I get it," Chinjao grumbled, clutching his Silver Den Den Mushi and Silver discount card. For the first time, he felt a flicker of safety—no more dodging the Navy, World Government, or rival pirates.
...
On the island, Chinjao ran into Woonan, the Golden Pirate, lounging in a casino. Woonan, too, was just a Silver-tier pirate, his "Golden" title a nod to his treasure-hunting and gold-mining prowess, not his rank.
"Wohaha! Chinjao, fancy meeting you here! Given up on ruling the seas, huh?" Woonan grinned, sipping his drink. "After that supernova summit, that scheming monk Ulti got smoked by Rocks. The Kainz brothers bent the knee to Rocks, too. Byrnndi World's crew is now a Hell Pirates affiliate. But you and me? We've got the right idea—join the Guild, live free, and have a blast!"
He leaned in, voice dropping. "Only Naguri and Eric Darn are still scrapping in the chaos zone, dodging three-way sieges. That's no way to live!"
Woonan was in his element, flush with cash and flashing his Silver discount card. The only downside? The Hell Pirates' wares were outrageously expensive. Alloy-forged swords, Wind Shell gliders, Sound Shell music boxes, Fire Shell burners, Thunder Shell shock blades, recovery potions, berserk elixirs—each item was a pirate's dream, but the prices were a nightmare.
And no discounts on those! Worse, items like the Thunder Shell blade needed recharging at Raijin Island's special stations. Sure, you could try charging it in a lightning storm, but good luck not frying yourself or the blade. Despite the flaws, pirates couldn't get enough—buy or fall behind.
The real kicker? The Hell Pirates kept rolling out "upgraded" versions, each slightly better, keeping pirates itching to trade up. To afford it, they took on Guild missions, balancing their budgets while splurging on Elan Island's casinos and games.
"Hmph! I'm not some layabout like you," Chinjao snapped. "I'm heading back to the chaos zone to build my rep. If things get hot, I'll duck back into Brook's territory to lie low. But these weapons? Top-notch. I'm outfitting my entire Happo Navy to get stronger!"
The Happo Navy wasn't broke. Back in the Kano Country, they'd stashed a fortune in gold and jewels on the Ice Continent. The ice was so tough only Chinjao's signature Head techniques could crack it open. With centuries of wealth and a crew of thousands, Chinjao had brought a few dozen to the New World, growing his ranks to hundreds through recruitment.
"Wohaha! Better have deep pockets, then," Woonan laughed. "Step into that weapons emporium, and you'll feel like a pauper!"
He wasn't kidding. Woonan had been floored by the berserk potions—ES Ferocity Elixirs that boosted strength one to five times, but at the cost of lifespan and sky-high prices. The ES Sacred Elixirs were even wilder: a few hours of multi-fold power with only days of weakness as a side effect, starting at over 100 million Belly a pop. Higher boosts meant longer weakness and steeper costs, but pirates chased them like treasure for their life-or-death edge.
Woonan had blown through billions in savings and still came up short. Now he was gambling in the casino, hoping for a big score.
...
The Hell Pirates' wares were a capitalist trap, designed to expire. Durable, reliable products? Not a chance. Brook, ever the shrewd businessman, modeled his empire after his old world's planned obsolescence—phones, lights, anything that'd break to keep sales rolling. Shell weapons and potions were no different, ensuring pirates kept coming back.
Vegapunk, the mastermind behind the potions, had a ruthless streak. He laced the berserk elixirs with a secret compound. Any pirate dumb enough to use them against the Hell Pirates would choke on a special mist potion Brook's crew could deploy, neutralizing or even killing the user. Against other foes, the elixirs were a godsend—but challenge the Hell Pirates, and you were toast.
Brook loved it. Vegapunk's trick ensured no one could weaponize their goods against them, while loyal customers reaped the benefits. A perfect scheme for a pirate capitalist.
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+400 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg