T/N: Sorry guys, busy couple of days. Should be back to normal upload schedule now!
"This is Issho, my new crewmate," Shiro said, clapping the blind swordsman's shoulder.
Issho gave a small bow toward Fisher Tiger. He didn't need to see the man to know he was strong—the steady rhythm of his steps was proof enough.
Tiger led them toward the palace, through a garden lit with glowing sea-algae. His massive tail fin stirred the water with each heavy sigh. Finally, he voiced the question that had been gnawing at him:
"Brother Shiro… I've heard the Roger Pirates have disbanded. A crew so mighty—how could it just end like that?"
"Because we reached the Final Island," Shiro answered, gazing up at the faint sunlight that filtered from above. His eyes glimmered with nostalgia.
"Captain said his dream was fulfilled. With that, the crew had no reason to go on."
Tiger's brows drew tight. "Since then, the scavengers have returned. With Roger's flag, none dared come near Fishman Island. Now…" His voice trailed into bitter silence.
"There's no feast that lasts forever. Every crew meets its end." Shiro's tone grew firm—before it shifted, sly and hopeful.
"But I'm building a new crew. The Virtue Pirates. What we need most right now is a helmsman."
His black eyes gleamed with expectation as he looked Tiger up and down.
The fishman rubbed his chin, yearning flickering across his gaze before worry quickly smothered it.
"Tempting… but I can't leave. The slavers are circling like sharks. If I let up for even a moment, they'll descend on us. Otherwise, I'd gladly sail at your side."
"I figured as much," Shiro said softly, eyes already sliding past Tiger toward a blue-skinned figure in the distance. Jinbei was barking orders to the patrol, broad back taut with resolve.
"But what about him? Would you part with your right hand?"
Tiger frowned deeply. "You mean Jinbei? He's my strongest fighter. Without him, the guard would crumble."
"Let's hear his choice first."
Jinbei had already turned, drawn by their words. He bowed respectfully to Tiger, then looked to Shiro.
"I… I've longed to see the world beyond. But with Fishman Island in danger, I…"
"Hold it, Jinbei," Shiro cut in, voice sharp.
"Have you thought about what staying here really means? You beat one batch of slavers today, another comes tomorrow. How long can you hold them off?"
Tiger lowered his head. Jinbei's fists slowly uncurled. The silence was heavy with salt and sea.
Finally, Jinbei lifted his gaze, eyes reflecting the glow of the corals.
"So what do you propose?"
Shiro stepped forward, gripping Jinbei's shoulders. His words rang with conviction.
"Join my crew! Together, we'll carve a name so fierce the seas themselves will remember it. When the Virtue Pirates' flag flies, Fishman Island will be under our protection. Anyone who threatens it will make enemies of us all!"
In Shiro's mind's eye, he already saw it: the skull-and-paw flag of his crew snapping above Fishman Island, slavers scattering like rats.
Tiger's eyes burned bright. "That's it! Let's join forces, Shiro! Together, we can make the whole world know our name!"
Shiro shook his head and laid a hand on Tiger's arm.
"No, Tiger. You need to stay. Someone has to guard Fishman Island until our fame is unshakable. When the world knows us, no one will dare touch this place. Then, you'll be free to sail wherever you like."
After a long silence, Tiger nodded heavily.
"Captain!" Jinbei barked suddenly, straightening with pride. His blue skin gleamed under the algae's glow.
"When do we set sail? I can't wait to carry the name of the Virtue Pirates across the seas!"
"Not so fast."
Shiro raised a hand, metal bands on his wrist glinting coldly. A smirk tugged at his lips.
"First, I need to see how far your Fishman Karate has come. If you haven't mastered your own art, I can't bring you into the New World."
Jinbei's eyes blazed. He slammed his fists together with a resounding thoom.
"Then please—test me!"
The gathered fishmen scattered back, sand crunching beneath their feet as they cleared a wide arena.
Jinbei moved first, body coiling like a spring before launching forward. His arms twisted like twin currents, surging with ocean spray.
"Fishman Jujutsu—Whirlpool Shoulder Throw!"
But Shiro was a veteran of countless battles. His Observation Haki spread like an invisible net, reading every twitch of muscle. Each time Jinbei's strikes threatened to crush him, Shiro slipped away at the last instant, footprints scattering across the sand.
Dozens of blows missed their mark. Jinbei's fighting spirit only flared hotter.
He reset his stance, legs braced wide, arms slowly raising to form a circle before his chest. Water vapor spiraled inward, gathering around him.
"Fishman Karate… Arabesque Brick Fist!"
Shiro's smile faded. His fists hardened, sheathed in Armament Haki's obsidian glow. With a sharp step, he lunged, his punch shrieking through the air.
"Haah!" Jinbei roared, thrusting forward.
A shockwave burst outward, water condensing into visible ripples that exploded in every direction. Shiro's strike met it head-on, halted mid-swing by the crushing force. His muscles trembled from the recoil.
"Not bad…" he murmured, a laugh rasping in his throat.
"But let's see whose shockwave is stronger."
He thrust his other hand open. Paw-Paw energy condensed at his palm, compressing the air into a transparent sphere. With a flick, he launched it—a roaring pressure blast colliding with Jinbei's wave.
The two forces shrieked against each other, sending a storm of mist whipping across the shore. Even the distant tides heaved under the strain.
For half a heartbeat, the clash held.
Then Jinbei groaned, staggering back two steps, his heels carving trenches into the sand—
T/N: If you would like to read up to 20 chapters ahead for all my works, check out my P@treon: patreon.com/GhidorahWriter
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