The street fell silent in an instant.
The loudmouth punks of the Fish-Man District, who loved to brag about grinding humans beneath their heels, suddenly found themselves face to face with reality. The swagger vanished. Knees knocked. Not a soul dared breathe too hard.
Even Arlong, usually all sneers and that grating, hyena laugh, had no sound left in him. Cold sweat rolled down his temple in bright, glassy beads.
Ozz narrowed his eyes and looked down at the saw-shark fishman before him.
Same truth as ever.
Fish-Man Island would not be allowed to produce a creature this brazen.
His presence alone pressed like the deep. Arlong could not even open his mouth. He could only watch, eyes bloodshot, as Ozz lifted a foot and, with an almost lazy calm, brought it toward Arlong's skull.
The approach of the sole felt like the approach of death.
And still Arlong could not move. Not until another figure burst into the space between them.
A brutal impact.
A spray of blood.
The red-skinned fishman who had thrown himself in the way went skidding end over end down the street, Arlong tumbling with him like a rag tied to a cannonball. Together they smashed through three, four walls before the wreckage finally stopped them.
Everyone who saw the face of the rescuer went rigid, mouths hanging open.
"That's… that's Boss Tiger."
"Big Brother Tiger."
In the rubble lay Fisher Tiger, future hero of emancipation, spiritual pillar of fishmen. He pushed himself up with a groan, blood wet on his lips. Arlong, more scared than hurt, scrambled up and hauled him to his feet with teary eyes.
"Brother Tiger."
Ozz tilted his head, interested. In this world, Fisher Tiger was a pivotal name. If events ran their course, he would soon scale the Red Line and storm the Holy Land. The "little maids" Ozz kept in Mary Geoise would be among the slaves set loose by that raid.
While Ozz was taking Tiger's measure, Tiger was studying Ozz. He pressed one hand to his chest and spoke first.
"Please forgive the fishmen for this offense… Lord Ozz."
For all his loathing of the Celestial Dragons who had chained him as a slave, Tiger's head had not been drowned in anger. He bowed as he once had to survive in Mary Geoise, swallowing the heat and choosing words that would not doom his people.
He knew the truth. Fish-Man Island needed Ozz. Fish-Man Island could not afford to cross Ozz.
"You recognize that identity."
Hands still in his pockets, Ozz closed the distance. Tiger sank to one knee. Even Arlong, scowling with pride and fear, followed the motion grudgingly.
"You must hate the Celestial Dragons."
Ozz flicked a glance. Arlong's eyes snapped shut under an unseen weight and his body slumped forward. Ozz set his heel on the shark's back without even looking down.
Tiger did not move. He only bowed his head further, voice low and steady.
"No. I spent a long time in Mary Geoise. You are not like the Celestial Dragons I saw there. You are wise and strong. You are Fish-Man Island's benefactor, the guardian of its people."
"Forgive my boldness. The others in that Holy Lineage are not fit to be spoken of in your company."
The words did not smell of flattery. They came from the stubborn marrow of a man who did not bend his beliefs for comfort. That was why the fishmen watching from afar stared so hard their eyes shone. For Fisher Tiger to say such a thing about a human…
"I see."
Ozz's mouth turned up at one corner. He toed Arlong aside, granting him a temporary reprieve.
Praise was nothing new. He was numb to most of it. But the respect of the blunt and the strong still tasted different. It landed.
With a small motion, Ozz helped Tiger rise from his knee.
"Walk with me."
"It would be my honor."
Tiger did not know what Ozz wanted, but he followed. They stopped at a cramped tavern whose windows rattled with the distant tide.
"Fisher Tiger," Ozz said mildly, "you came back to prepare for a raid on Mary Geoise."
No evidence. No preface. The sentence dropped bare and the room turned to look.
If the others were only surprised, Tiger felt his scalp prickle. He had not told anyone. No one.
How could.
"There is no need to dissemble," Ozz said. "If I am saying it out loud, it means I am certain."
Tiger met his gaze. The shock burned off. Panic would not help. If Ozz intended to end him for that plan, he would not have bothered with a chat.
After a breath, Fisher Tiger lifted his head and answered plainly.
"Yes, Lord Ozz. That is my intent."
"I will climb the Red Line and free every slave in the Holy Land."
Madness.
Magnificence.
Even Mihawk and Crocodile traded looks. To strike at Mary Geoise itself. They had never heard of any such thing.
And to say it in front of a Celestial Dragon.
"Do not look at me like that."
Ozz's expression did not change.
"Whatever becomes of the Holy Land does not touch me much. I do not live there."
He had only one treasure there, and those three Boa sisters were not walking out of his palm no matter who broke which chains. If someone set the Sacred City on fire, Ozz would watch the flames and sip a drink.
"But you do understand that once you do this, the Holy Land will take its time with you. They will not stop."
"Even if Fish-Man Island stays safe under my name, you will die."
He liked the man. Tiger was a rare kind of hero, the sort who did not make Ozz's teeth ache. His ceiling for power was higher than Jinbe's too.
"I can see to it that no fishman outside your circle pays a price. I can even recommend Jinbe for the Seven Warlords of the Sea."
"In exchange…"
"I need hands. Afterward, you disappear. Work for me in the dark."
"How does that sound."
Ozz set the olive branch on the table. In the water, fishmen had no equal. They were born to rule the sea lanes unseen. And lately, if Sami's reports were to be believed, his own men had started to strut a little too much under his banner.
The Black Emperor needed a Brocade Guard.
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The tides are shifting, and secrets linger in the dark... Step into the shadows early on P@treon, where the next chapter awaits before the world sees it.
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