Leona, Suzu, and I were traveling as a group of three when we spotted an uncharted island and decided to put in.
It was a whim—nothing more than a flicker of curiosity.
And honestly, I'm already regretting it.
Let me be blunt.
This island—no, this country—is a disaster. In every sense of the word.
'Even for a poor nation… this is beyond awful. Just because it's a non-affiliated country… well, I suppose some of it is inevitable, but still.'
The place we arrived in was what they call a non-affiliated nation—a country that hasn't joined the World Government.
Which means no Marine protection. No real enforcement. A lawless zone where pirates, human traffickers, and every other breed of scum roam freely.
…To be fair, it isn't unique. Most non-affiliated countries are like this.
But seeing it with my own eyes?
It's worse than I imagined. The wretchedness hits you head-on.
And above all—this is a terrible place for children. In every possible way.
I shouldn't have brought Suzu and Leona here.
"I mean… this is truly appalling. It's nothing like the 'outside world' the grannies told us about. How can the Marines and the country's regular army just stand by while this goes on?"
"They're probably too busy protecting the bigwigs," Leona said, eyes narrowing. "There's probably a part of this country where people live normal lives. They just keep it so far away from trash heaps like this that you'd never believe it's the same place."
"Sharp, Leona," I muttered. "That's exactly it. This is basically… a dumping ground. A backwater within the country."
Somewhere out there, there's likely a district for the wealthy—neatly separated from places like this—while everyone "less desirable" gets shoved into the dirt.
If I had to put it in One Piece terms, it felt like the Goa Kingdom. Using that analogy, this would be Gray Terminal… and somewhere beyond it would be a proper town—Central Town, maybe High Town.
And honestly, this might be even worse than Goa, despite Goa being a World Government-affiliated nation.
…Of course, that's only what I know from the original story.
But the country in front of me right now?
It's overflowing with a cruelty that turns your stomach.
We hadn't walked far before I'd already seen beggars and homeless people huddled at the roadside.
Shady-looking figures were everywhere—no, they were the majority. They watched us with predatory eyes. I kept my guard up.
Angry shouts and screams rose from every direction. Pickpocketing. Robbery. Murder. Probably human trafficking too. They did it openly, without shame.
To people like that, a group like ours—three attractive women and a child—must have looked like the perfect catch. I could feel the number of hungry gazes multiplying.
To test it, we ducked into a deserted alley.
We were attacked within seconds.
Human traffickers, most likely. Someone tried to yank a cloth over my head; I kicked him away. Another swung a club, aiming for the back of my skull.
They were low-level thugs. I turned the tables easily.
And it wasn't just me—Suzu and Leona handled themselves without breaking a sweat.
They were weak.
And the fact they couldn't even read the strength in front of them told me everything: petty criminals. The kind that survives by preying on the helpless, not by fighting anyone who might fight back.
…And within ten minutes, we were attacked three separate times.
First a trafficker grabbed for me. Then robbers rushed in. Then, after we drove them off, a pack of lust-drunk vagrants swarmed us.
By then, I was done with it. I retreated back to the main street.
The "security" was marginally better there—though that might have been wishful thinking.
And even beyond the attacks, I kept seeing things I didn't want to see.
Beggars and vagrants lined the streets. Screams and angry voices never stopped. And suspicious transactions were happening everywhere.
…Was I imagining it, or was someone over there packing white powder into little packets?
Laundry detergent, maybe?
Sure.
I glanced into a few shops and, even at a quick look, I could swear I saw items the World Government classifies as prohibited sitting on shelves like they were everyday goods.
They even sold rare Den Den Mushi that shouldn't be circulating in the open market—black and white varieties.
…Of course, I can't confirm they were genuine. But the very fact they were being sold so casually here made my skin crawl.
Then there was the woman by the roadside. A man spoke to her, took her hand, and led her into a cheap inn.
…Was that—
Well. They call it one of humanity's oldest professions. It requires no investment, only a body.
In a place like this, it was inevitable.
But it was especially awful for children to see.
And—of course—there was a slave trader.
Where human traffickers thrive, slave traders follow. These slaves wore thick iron collars instead of explosive ones. Their eyes were dull, their bodies thin, their posture lifeless as they stood by the road like livestock—children and adults alike.
After taking in enough of this "town," I murmured, "Alright," and turned to the girls.
"Let's get out of this country."
"Agreed," they said at the same time.
There was nothing to gain here.
Even if there were, I wouldn't want it.
We were unanimous.
Some things are better left unseen. Things that bring no joy, no meaning—only rot.
If I were alone, I might have justified staying to gather information.
But with two children?
Absolutely not.
…Of course, this town had children too. Street kids, by the look of them. I'm not judging their existence.
I just don't want my own two here.
Experience can wait. Everything can wait.
I want to leave this country as soon as possible.
Otherwise—
"Hey, sisters. New faces, huh?"
"How about we show you around? Nee hee hee…"
Exactly the kind of trouble I was trying to avoid.
It wasn't just the back alleys. Even on the main street, men like this approached.
And they never came alone. A whole gang gathered behind them, like they hadn't intended to settle anything peacefully from the start.
They were already deciding how to snatch you up and do whatever vile things their heads were full of.
I didn't want to imagine it.
But the bulges in their pants made it clear enough.
"Lucky us," one of them said, licking his lips. "Even if you're outsiders… you don't find beauties like you every day."
"Yeah. Tonight's gonna be fun till dawn."
"Should we call the other groups?" another snickered. "With girls like this, we could make a fortune."
"The white-haired woman's nice, but…" One of them grinned wider. "I'm liking that black-haired brat too."
"Me? I'll take the gray-haired one," another said. "Slim, but looks feisty. Bet she'd scream real good."
Every last one of them spewed their filth like they were entitled to it.
And worse—they weren't just imagining it for themselves.
They were planning to use the girls together.
I noticed several young girls already tied up nearby—around Suzu's age, maybe a little older.
Some were twisted with terror. Some looked dead inside. A few watched the alley like animals, eyes sharp, waiting for a crack in the cage.
In these men's minds, they'd already dragged us somewhere.
They'd already done unspeakable things.
This is truly terrible for their education.
With that thought, my hand slid toward the Japanese umbrella strapped across my back.
We tried to leave.
They chased.
Using sheer numbers, they herded us into an alley and cornered us.
Before they even understood they'd trapped themselves in a dead end, we beat them into the ground.
We'd been in this country less than an hour, and we'd already dropped more than fifty men.
The sheer volume of encounters—and the pathetic quality of the thugs—was staggering. Even thinking back to other non-affiliated nations I'd visited, this place might rank among the worst.
Well… most non-affiliated countries are either lawless pits overrun with predators, or dying ghost towns too drained to even bother.
It's usually one extreme or the other.
With a sigh, I glanced sideways—and noticed one of the girls who'd been captured earlier moving in the chaos.
I assumed she was trying to escape.
Instead, she was rummaging through the pockets of the men we'd just put down, calmly looting them.
…Bold.
No—audacious.
Taking what she could while she could, without hesitation.
Maybe that was just a survival skill you developed in a country like this.
The other kids scattered the moment the men fell, like startled spiderlings.
This one didn't even flinch.
"Heh heh heh… what a windfall," she muttered, fingers quick. "Franston's group had some real cash on them… huh?"
Then she turned, sensing my gaze, and we locked eyes.
"Oh," she said brightly, not the least bit intimidated. "Hey, Big Sisters. Want some too? Come to think of it, you're the ones who beat them up. Half sound good?"
"No thanks," I said. "We didn't fight them for the money."
Besides, we weren't hurting for cash.
And whatever these men had on them… it felt dirty.
I know money itself isn't good or evil, but still.
"Really?" The girl grinned. "Then I'll gladly keep it all for myself. Nee hee hee♪"
She counted bills and coins with cheerful devotion.
Yes.
Definitely audacious.
"Oh yeah," she added, glancing up. "You're off-island, right? If you want, I can show you around. As a thank-you for saving me."
She claimed she knew the safer parts of town, the hidden spots beyond the grime, even routes into Central Town where "ordinary people" lived.
Hidden spots, huh.
It did pique my curiosity a little.
But not now.
Right now, I just wanted out.
Luckily, it was still early in the day.
When I told her our plan, she hesitated—just a beat—then shook her head.
"Mm… I don't think you should do that. You should stay today and tomorrow."
"…Why?"
The girl spoke as casually as if she were commenting on the weather.
"Big Sister, you're a pirate, right? I've seen your wanted poster."
"!"
So she knew.
All along.
Either she was exceptionally informed… or exceptionally connected.
Sure, anyone who reads the newspaper might recognize me.
But in a town like this, it didn't feel like many people even read.
"Bad news for you, Sis," she went on. "Every month around this time, the Marines come to this country and beef up patrols in the surrounding waters. They say it's to crack down on black market merchant ships because illegal trading picks up—but that's just an excuse. And by the way, it started today."
…Seriously?
If that was true, leaving now would be dangerous. If they'd thrown a net around the area, any small ship that looked even slightly suspicious would get stopped immediately. I doubted they'd relax even at night.
"Damn," I muttered. "Did we arrive at the worst possible time?"
"That's why you should wait until around noon the day after tomorrow, when the patrol period ends," the girl said. "The Marines only watch Central Town and the sea, so they leave this area alone. If you find a decent inn, you'll be safe for a few days. I can show you good ones."
She didn't pressure us for an answer.
Instead, she gave us a way out.
You might not believe me, so go check the port yourself. There's probably already a Marine ship there.
She named a spot where she'd be waiting. If we decided we wanted her "guidance," we could find her and tell her.
Then she turned and walked away, light on her feet.
As she went, she called back over her shoulder, as if remembering something at the last second.
"Oh—right, sorry! I almost forgot to introduce myself. I'm Alice. Nice to meet you, 'Pirate Literary Master' Big Sisters♪"
With a smile so bright it felt wrong in this rundown town, the girl—Alice—disappeared into the crowd.
To be continued...