Time flowed like the ocean currents beneath them, and with each passing day, the Spade Pirates sailed closer to the midpoint of their grand adventure. The journey continued, relentless and full of promise.
One bright afternoon, Deuce's voice cut through the usual clamor of life on deck.
"Hey! Everyone, listen up! Meeting on the main deck, now! We're approaching the Sabaody Archipelago, and there are some things everyone needs to know!"
On The Piece of Spadille, the intellectual labor fell squarely on the shoulders of a small, select group. There was Deuce, the pragmatic ship's doctor and de facto quartermaster; Skull, the eccentric intelligence officer with a network of contacts ; and Mihar, the quiet teacher and master sniper. They were the crew's brain trust, responsible for sifting through mountains of information and making it digestible for the rest.
Deuce wouldn't have it any other way. Most pirates in this world weren't scholars. They were fighters, dreamers, and rebels. A good portion of the crew could read a map and sign their names, but dense intelligence reports weren't their strong suit. Entrusting this critical task to anyone else was a risk he wasn't willing to take, and frankly, no one else wanted the job.
As the crew gathered, Skull unrolled a large, detailed map of the Sabaody Archipelago across the deck. Deuce picked up a small wooden stick to use as a pointer, tapping it for emphasis.
"Alright, settle down. This is important," he began, his tone serious. "Sabaody, also known as the 'Island of Last Resort' or the 'Island of New Beginnings,' isn't a normal island. It's an archipelago formed by the largest mangroves in the world, the Yarukiman Mangroves."
He gestured to the map, which depicted dozens of distinct, circular landmasses. "It's made up of 79 of these massive trees, or 'groves.' Each one is numbered, which is how we'll navigate. When we land, check the number on the nearest tree trunk to get your bearings."
Deuce paused, letting them absorb the information before continuing. "You can visit most of these groves, but there are two regions you need to be extremely careful around. First, Groves 1 through 29."
He tapped the lawless region on the map, his expression grim. "This area is full of human trafficking rings, slave auction houses, and other illegal operations. It's a dangerous place. If you go there, you keep your head on a swivel. One wrong move, one moment of carelessness, and you could end up as a commodity in one of those shops."
A low growl rumbled from Wallace, the Scorpion Fishman, his hands clenching into fists at the mention of slavers. He knew that world all too well.
"The second area," Deuce continued, tapping the opposite side of the map, "is Groves 60 through 69. This is where the local Marine base is headquartered, along with the World Government's official entry points. I don't think I need to explain why you shouldn't go wandering around there unless you enjoy being chased, arrested, and thrown in a cell."
He scanned the faces of his crewmates, making sure they understood the gravity of his words. "But the single most important rule of Sabaody is this: the Celestial Dragons are active on this island. If you see people kneeling on the street, you do the same. If you see one of them walking towards you, you get out of the way. Do not look at them. Do not speak to them. Do not, under any circumstances, offend them."
His voice dropped, becoming deadly serious. "Annoy a Celestial Dragon, and you won't just have the local Marines on your tail. You'll bring a Marine Admiral and a Buster Call down on all our heads. Is that clear?"
A somber silence fell over the crew. They were reckless, but they weren't stupid. They understood the stakes.
Deuce was most worried, however, about his two closest friends. He glanced at Ace, who had a habit of dining-and-dashing that inevitably attracted city-wide attention. Then his gaze fell on Jerry, a man whose apathy for anything other than fishing was matched only by his explosive, fearless intervention whenever he stumbled upon injustice. Jerry already had a history of dismantling a trafficker operation; letting him loose in Sabaody's lawless zone felt like lighting a fuse on a powder keg.
"Okay," Deuce concluded, trying to keep his explanation concise. "That's the gist of it. We'll need to stay anchored at Sabaody for at least three days before we can proceed."
"Three days? Why!?" Ace immediately protested, his face falling into a pout. "Why do we have to be stuck there for so long?"
Jerry, meanwhile, was hunched over the map, a thoughtful glint in his eye. "The Sabaody Archipelago, huh? All those different groves… I bet the fishing is totally different from one to the next. I wonder which one has the best seafood restaurants." At his feet, Kotatsu let out a soft snore, twitching its paws as if dreaming of a giant, grilled fish.
Skull, sitting cross-legged on the deck, looked up at his captain. "Boss Ace, if we want to get to the New World, our next stop is Fishman Island. But Fishman Island is ten thousand meters below the surface of the sea. The Piece of Spadille is tough, but she can't handle that kind of pressure. We need to find a coater here in Sabaody to treat the hull."
The mood shifted instantly.
"Fishman Island?" Wallace's voice was thick with emotion. "We're… we're really going? I'm finally going home?" His usual quiet demeanor was replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated joy.
The other crew members began to buzz with excitement. Sabaody was the gateway to the New World, a legendary hub for pirates, bounty hunters, and merchants. It was a world-famous tourist destination, brimming with unique attractions and, most importantly, legendary food.
"Is that so?" Ace scratched his head, his protest forgotten. "Well, I guess we don't have a choice. So, is there anything good to eat on this island?"
"Anything good?" Skull grinned, folding his arms. "Boss, Sabaody has some of the most famous restaurants in the entire Grand Line. They have delicacies you can't find anywhere else in the world!"
Ace's expression transformed. The sullen pout vanished, replaced by a grin as bright as the sun. "Really? Well, why didn't you say so sooner!?"
It was at that moment that Jerry, who had been peering out at the horizon, suddenly gasped. His eyes went wide with genuine amazement.
"Whoa! Look at that! It's so big… and thick… and long!"
Deuce shot him a look of pure disgust. "Jerry, what is wrong with you? Your bounty is over ten million berries. Can't you try to be a little more mature, like me?" He huffed, then turned his head to see what could possibly have elicited such a ridiculous comment.
His jaw dropped.
"Whoa! It really is so… big… ahem!"
The rest of the crew, drawn by the commotion, followed their gaze. There, rising from the sea level and stretching up to touch the clouds, was a sight that defied imagination. A single, impossibly colossal tree dominated the horizon, its roots sprawling for miles. It was the first of the 79 Yarukiman Mangroves. Huge, iridescent soap bubbles periodically bloomed from the roots and branches, drifting lazily into the sky and shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow. They could vaguely make out islanders using the bubbles as vehicles, floating serenely through the air. The entire archipelago looked like a fairytale, a dreamscape brought to life.
"Is that… is that it?" one of the crew members whispered in awe. "The Yarukiman Mangrove? It's beautiful!"
Deuce was trembling, his composure completely shattered by the indescribable beauty before him. "This… this… I have to… I have to record this moment!" he stammered, fumbling for the worn notebook and pen he always carried. He began to write furiously, his hand flying across the page, lost in a moment of pure artistic inspiration.
Curious, Jerry tiptoed silently behind him and peeked over his shoulder. A wicked smile spread across his face. He cleared his throat and began to read Deuce's work aloud in his most dramatic, theatrical voice.
"Ahem! 'Oh, great tree! You are so truly, truly big! And so very, very tall!'"
Deuce froze.
Jerry leaned in closer, squinting at the messy script. "'You have so many bubbles, shimmering in the light! Can you give me one, I wonder? And take me on a flight… to the dreamy distance…'" Jerry paused, looking at Deuce with mock sincerity. "Where do you want to go, buddy? Can we come?"
The crew began to snicker. Deuce's face was rapidly turning the color of a ripe tomato.
"'When I return, will you let me live upon your mighty root?'" Jerry continued, his voice dripping with melodrama. "'To live there happily, forever, eating of your fruit? Ah! I think you will agree! Mwah! My Sabaody!'" He finished with a flourish and nodded sagely. "Don't worry, Deuce. I'm sure it will agree."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Deuce let out a scream so high-pitched it sounded like a dolphin being electrocuted. The shriek was so sudden and sharp that it startled Kotatsu from a deep sleep, causing the terrified lynx to leap a full two meters into the air with its fur on end.