After making their decision, Jerry and Dora immediately left the port and swam beyond Fishman Island's protective bubble into the open ocean waters surrounding the underwater kingdom.
"Dora, you lead the way and I'll follow," Jerry said as they adjusted to the transition from the bubble's artificial environment to the natural sea.
"Wait... Brother Jerry, you don't need breathing device?" Dora asked in amazement, watching as Jerry moved through the water with fluid grace. "And you can swim this fast?"
She had expected to need to slow down significantly to accommodate a human, but Jerry was keeping pace with her effortlessly. His swimming technique was unlike anything she'd seen from surface dwellers—it was almost as if he belonged in the water.
Mermaids were renowned throughout the world for their incredible speed and agility in aquatic environments, yet Jerry was matching her stroke for stroke without any apparent strain.
"Don't worry about me," Jerry replied with a confident smile, demonstrating his point by executing a quick spiral around Dora before settling back into formation beside her. "Just lead the way as fast as you can. We need to get there quickly."
Impressed and reassured, Dora nodded and increased her pace, cutting through the water toward their destination with renewed urgency.
The journey through the ocean depths was breathtaking in its alien beauty. Bioluminescent creatures drifted past them like living stars, and the distant glow of Fishman Island's various districts created an otherworldly backdrop for their swift passage through the water.
Before long, a magnificent sight appeared ahead of them—the legendary Sea Forest, an underwater grove that seemed to defy the very nature of the ocean floor. Sunlight filtered down from the massive Sun Tree Eve far above, creating ethereal beams that illuminated a thriving ecosystem unlike anything on the surface world.
The forest was filled with vibrant coral formations that had grown into tree-like structures, their branches swaying gently in the ocean currents. Schools of colorful fish moved through the coral "canopy" like flocks of birds, while smaller creatures darted between the formations in an endless dance of marine life.
Most of the forest was enclosed within an enormous bubble that allowed for air-breathing visitors, and in the distance, Jerry could make out the massive silhouette of what appeared to be a ship—one so large it seemed to rival half of Fishman Island itself in size.
"Brother Jerry, we've reached the Sea Forest," Dora announced, gesturing toward the sprawling underwater wilderness ahead of them.
The two swimmers paused at the forest's edge, treading water as they observed the scene before them. Jerry's expression grew serious as he spotted numerous groups of Fishmen moving through the area.
"I can see a lot of activity over there," Jerry noted grimly. "Before we go any further, we should disguise ourselves."
He reached into his system storage and produced two long, hooded cloaks, quickly donning one while offering the other to Dora.
"You should stay hidden and be ready to leave if things get dangerous," Jerry warned as he adjusted his hood to shadow his features. "I might not be able to protect you once the action starts."
Dora accepted the cloak but stuck out her tongue defiantly. "I'm not going anywhere. You'll need a guide who knows the local area."
Jerry studied her determined expression and realized arguing would be futile. Besides, she had a point—most of the crowd ahead appeared to be Fishmen, with a smaller number of mermaids mixed in. If necessary, Dora could blend in with the other mermaids in attendance.
"Alright, but if things go bad, your priority is staying safe," Jerry said firmly. "Promise me you'll hide if violence breaks out."
"I promise," Dora agreed, though her tone suggested she'd interpret that promise rather liberally.
Without further delay, Jerry took the lead as they swam toward the gathering crowd, entering the forest's bubble and blending in with the steady stream of onlookers making their way toward the central clearing.
The Sea Forest's interior was even more impressive than it had appeared from a distance. Ancient coral formations towered overhead like cathedral spires, their surfaces covered in smaller growths that created intricate patterns of color and texture. The interplay of natural sunlight and bioluminescent organisms created an almost magical atmosphere that would have been enchanting under different circumstances.
Following the crowd, Jerry and Dora made their way deeper into the forest until they reached a large, open valley that appeared to be the designated gathering point. Despite arriving well before the announced execution time, a substantial crowd had already assembled.
The proximity to Fishman Street meant that travel time was minimal, and this type of public spectacle was apparently an anticipated event for the extremist elements of that notorious district. Even though the main participants hadn't yet appeared, Jerry could see more Fishmen arriving constantly, their voices carrying an undercurrent of anticipation and barely contained hostility.
Jerry extended his Observation Haki to scan the area but detected no sign of Hody Jones's group or Wallace. This early arrival had given them a valuable opportunity to scout the terrain and prepare for whatever was to come.
"Since we have time, let's explore the area," Jerry suggested to Dora. "I need to understand the layout in case we need to move quickly later."
"I'm not super familiar with this place," Dora admitted somewhat sheepishly. "I've only been here a few times with my family, and we don't usually talk about the Sea Forest much. I do know that Princess Otohime is buried here, though."
Jerry nodded thoughtfully. The tomb of Princess Otohime would be a logical landmark to use for navigation, and it might provide some insight into the area's geography.
They made their way toward the memorial site, noting that the crowd thinned considerably as they moved away from the main gathering point. This confirmed that the valley they'd just left was indeed the intended location for the execution.
Princess Otohime's tomb was a simple but elegant monument that radiated an aura of peace and dignity. Standing before it, Jerry found himself reflecting on the tragic irony of the situation—here they were, preparing to witness an act of racial hatred in the very place where a woman who had dedicated her life to promoting understanding between species was laid to rest.
Princess Otohime had possessed the courage and vision to advocate for true equality between humans and Fishmen, dreaming of a world where both races could coexist freely under the same sun. Her intentions had been noble, her heart pure, and her commitment absolute.
Yet her approach, Jerry reflected, had perhaps been too idealistic for the harsh realities of entrenched prejudice. She had sought to achieve in a single generation what might require decades or even centuries of gradual change. The deep-seated fears, resentments, and traumas that had accumulated over years of conflict couldn't be erased overnight, no matter how powerful the message of hope.
Her assassination had been the inevitable result of moving too quickly in a world not yet ready for such radical transformation.
After paying their respects to the fallen princess, Jerry and Dora returned to the main gathering area. The crowd had continued to grow during their absence, and Jerry noted with dismay that many of the conversations he overheard reflected the same toxic ideologies that had led to this situation.
Whether influenced by Hody Jones's propaganda or simply reflecting the ingrained prejudices of Fishman Street culture, the assembled crowd seemed to consist largely of narrow-minded supremacists who viewed this execution as entertainment rather than the tragedy it truly represented.
As time passed, the number of spectators swelled to what seemed like thousands, creating a sea of bodies that stretched beyond Jerry's line of sight. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and Jerry found himself disgusted by the carnival atmosphere surrounding what was essentially a lynching.
Suddenly, Jerry's Observation Haki detected approaching presences from deeper within the forest. His body tensed as he turned toward the source, and gradually, the crowd around them began to quiet and shift their attention in the same direction.
Emerging from the shadows of the coral formations came a group of roughly ten Fishmen, their leader immediately recognizable as the great white shark Fishman who had orchestrated this entire spectacle. Hody Jones moved with the predatory confidence of someone who believed himself to be the apex predator in any environment.
But it was the figure being dragged along in front of the group that caused Jerry's blood to run cold with rage.
Wallace, barely recognizable beneath the network of cuts, bruises, and abrasions that covered his body, was being forced forward by thick iron chains. His usual dignified bearing had been replaced by the stumbling gait of someone pushed far beyond the limits of physical endurance.
The proud Scorpion Fishman who had sworn loyalty to the Spade Pirates, who had shared stories and laughter with his crewmates, had been reduced to a broken figure barely capable of staying upright as his captors shoved and kicked him forward.
"Brother Wallace..." Dora whispered, her hands flying to cover her mouth as she took in the extent of his injuries.
Jerry's vision went red with fury as he imagined what Wallace must have endured. This was the same gentle giant who had gone out of his way to comfort Dora and her sisters when they'd first been rescued, who had entertained the crew with his funny stories and quiet wisdom.
The contrast between Wallace's current condition and his normal cheerful demeanor was almost too much to bear. Jerry's hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles went white, and he had to consciously control his breathing to prevent his rage from overwhelming his tactical thinking.
"Dora, fall back to the hiding spot we discussed," Jerry said quietly, his voice carrying a deadly calm that was somehow more frightening than shouting would have been.
As Dora reluctantly moved toward safety, Jerry rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles, his body language shifting from concealment to preparation for violence. Like a predator selecting its prey, he began pushing through the crowd toward the center of the clearing.
"Time to teach you bastards a lesson about touching my friends," Jerry muttered grimly as he stepped into the open space where Wallace's tormentors awaited.
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