As the Dragon Palace Kingdom's military forces arrived at the Sea Forest in their gleaming coral ships, the Spade Pirates had already begun their strategic withdrawal. Following Jerry's carefully laid plans, they slipped away through the underwater groves while Dora remained behind to play her part as their representative.
Jerry watched from a distance as the young mermaid swam confidently toward the approaching soldiers, led by a massive figure he recognized as Prince Fukaboshi. The eldest prince of the Ryugu Kingdom cut an impressive figure—a towering shark merman whose presence commanded immediate respect from his troops.
"Think she'll be okay?" Wallace asked, swimming alongside Jerry as they made their way back to the ship.
"Dora's tougher than she looks," Jerry replied confidently. "Besides, she's got the truth on her side. Hody and his crew were planning rebellion, and everyone knows Vander Decken has been terrorizing the royal family for years."
When they reached their ship, they found an unexpected but welcome sight. Dora's two sisters were there playing with Kotatsu, the lynx clearly enjoying the attention from the playful mermaids. Someone—either Skull through his network or Jenny directly—had arranged for them to keep watch over the ship.
After exchanging pleasantries with the mermaid sisters and ensuring they could make it home safely, the crew settled into their post-battle routine. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, and everyone was starting to feel their various injuries more acutely.
"Alright, everyone line up," Deuce announced, pulling out his medical supplies with the weary expression of someone who'd done this many times before. "I want to properly treat all those wounds I only patched up in the Sea Forest."
The next few hours were spent in the familiar rhythm of post-battle recovery. Deuce moved from crew member to crew member, cleaning cuts, setting minor fractures, and dispensing advice about taking it easy for a few days. Meanwhile, those with only superficial injuries began preparing for what was practically a Spade Pirates tradition.
"Party supplies!" Mihar announced, pulling bottles from the ship's stores. "Because nothing says 'we just defeated thirty thousand enemies' like a proper celebration!"
"I'll start preparing the meat, Vice-Captain Jerry, Can you grill like always," another crew member asked. "After a fight like that, we deserve a feast."
Jerry smiled as he watched his crewmates spring into action. This was what he loved about the Spade Pirates—no matter how intense things got, they always made time to celebrate their victories and support each other. It was one of the things that made them feel more like a family than just a pirate crew.
The party that night was legendary, even by their standards. Stories of the battle grew more elaborate with each telling, and by the end of the evening, some crew members were claiming they'd personally defeated hundreds of enemies each. Ace regaled everyone with increasingly dramatic reenactments of his fight with Hyouzou, complete with sound effects and exaggerated gestures.
"And then," Ace declared, standing on a chair with a bottle in his hand, "I unleashed my Firefly Fire Daruma! The octopus didn't know what hit him!"
"You made it sound like fireworks!" someone called out. "Boom! Boom! Boom!"
"That's because it basically was fireworks," Jerry laughed. "Very deadly, very hot fireworks."
The celebration continued for the next two days. During the daylight hours, crew members would split up to explore Fishman Island properly—visiting the famous Mermaid Cafe, shopping in the coral markets, or simply marveling at the underwater city's unique architecture. But every evening, they'd return to the ship for another round of partying and storytelling.
On the third morning, Jerry noticed Deuce poring over a collection of newspapers and bounty posters that had apparently arrived overnight. The navigator's expression was a mixture of pride and concern as he studied the documents.
"New bounties?" Jerry asked, looking over Deuce's shoulder.
"Among other things," Deuce replied grimly. "Our little stunt at Sabaody made bigger waves than we expected. The Marines are definitely taking notice of us now."
After a brief discussion between the senior crew members, Ace stepped onto the deck and clapped his hands for attention. The entire crew gathered around, sensing that something important was about to be announced.
"Alright, everyone!" Ace called out, his voice carrying the excitement that always seemed to bubble up whenever he talked about their next adventure. "We're leaving Fishman Island today. The Marine is probably already on their way here, and I'd rather not deal with another Admiral just yet."
The crew chuckled at that, remembering Jerry's harrowing encounter with Kizaru.
"More importantly," Ace continued, his grin widening, "we, the Spade Pirates, are officially heading for the New World!"
"Yeah!" the crew roared in response, their voices echoing across the bubble-covered port.
After the initial celebration died down, Ace walked to the ship's railing and looked up toward the harbor. His expression grew thoughtful as his gaze fixed on something in the distance—a massive flag flying high above the port, its white mustacha symbol unmistakable even from this distance.
Jerry followed Ace's gaze and understood immediately. The flag of the Whitebeard Pirates served as both a symbol and a promise to everyone who passed through Fishman Island. It declared to the world that this place was under the protection of Edward Newgate, the man known as the World's Strongest Man.
"Pretty impressive, isn't it?" Jerry said, moving to stand beside his captain.
Ace nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the flag. "Yeah. Do you know the story behind it?"
"Some of it," Jerry replied. "Want me to fill in the gaps?"
"Please."
Jerry settled against the railing, gathering his thoughts. "After Roger started the Great Pirate Era, thousands of pirates began flowing through here on their way to the New World. And unfortunately, most pirates aren't exactly known for their restraint."
"They caused trouble," Ace guessed.
"Massive amounts of trouble. Fishman Island became a hunting ground for slave traders and anyone else looking to make quick money off the mermaid population. The kingdom's forces couldn't protect everyone—there were just too many pirates passing through, and some of them were incredibly powerful."
Ace's expression darkened. "So people suffered."
"Until Whitebeard showed up," Jerry continued. "One day, he just planted his flag here and made an announcement: 'Fishman Island is my territory.' That was it. No grand speeches, no complicated negotiations. Just a simple declaration backed by the reputation of the World's Strongest Man."
"And it worked?"
"Completely. Pirates might be willing to risk a lot for treasure, but very few are stupid enough to pick a fight with Whitebeard over it. His flag has been protecting this place for years now."
Ace was quiet for a long moment, studying the distant banner. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Is this what it means to be at the pinnacle of the pirate world?"
Jerry smiled at the question. "What do you think? Want to find out for yourself?"
"Yeah!" Ace's voice exploded with sudden energy as he raised his head toward the sky. "The Four Emperors and all that—we can definitely surpass them! From now on, our target is Whitebeard!"
The declaration rang across the ship, and Jerry felt his own excitement building in response. This was the Ace he'd chosen to follow—the man who looked at impossible challenges and saw opportunities instead of obstacles.
"Well then," Jerry grinned, "how about we make our intentions clear?"
Before anyone could ask what he meant, Jerry was already moving. Using his Moonwalk technique, he launched himself into the air, heading straight for the Whitebeard Pirates' flag. In his hands was a spare Spade Pirates banner—the familiar skull wearing Ace's signature hat, grinning defiantly at the world.
"Hey! Jerry!" Deuce called out, raising his hand in a futile attempt to stop him. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"
"Making a statement," Jerry called back as he positioned their flag directly above Whitebeard's banner. "After all, our design is way cooler than theirs!"
He completed his task with a flourish, doing a backflip before landing smoothly on the deck. The crew erupted in cheers, though Jerry noticed Deuce looked like he was developing a headache.
"You two..." Deuce began, then shook his head. "Do you realize we just declared war on one of the Four Emperors? Whitebeard has over a dozen division commanders, dozens of allied crews, and tens of thousands of elite pirates under his command."
"Deuce," Ace interrupted, his voice taking on the firm tone he used when making important decisions, "we founded this crew to surpass others and reach the pinnacle of piracy. Have you forgotten that?"
Before Deuce could respond, Ace turned to address the entire crew. "Everyone! If any of you feel uncertain or afraid about what we're about to face, you can leave the ship here. I won't blame you, and there'll be no hard feelings."
Jerry watched as the crew members looked up at their flag flying boldly above Whitebeard's banner. He could see various emotions playing across their faces—excitement, nervousness, determination, and perhaps a touch of healthy fear. But not a single person moved toward the gangplank.
"Guess that settles it," Wallace said with a grin. "The Spade Pirates don't back down from a challenge."
"Then let's get ready to sail," Ace said, satisfaction clear in his voice.
As the crew began preparing for departure, Ace walked over to where Skull was organizing his collection of skeletal trinkets.
"Skull, I need to ask you for a favor once we reach the New World."
"Oh! What's going on, Boss Ace?" Skull asked, his head tilting curiously.
"Let's go over there and talk privately," Ace said, patting Skull on the back and gesturing toward a quieter corner of the ship.
Jerry couldn't help but grin as he watched the two of them walk away. He had a pretty good idea what Ace was planning, and it was exactly the kind of bold move he'd expect from his captain.
"What? You want to meet that guy? Seriously?" Skull's voice suddenly rang out across the ship, loud enough for everyone to hear despite their attempt at privacy.
Jerry shrugged and turned his attention to Deuce, who was still looking somewhat overwhelmed by recent events. The navigator noticed Jerry's gaze and frowned.
"What are you staring at?"
"Just thinking that you worry too much," Jerry said with a smile. "We're pirates, remember? Taking on impossible challenges is kind of our thing."
That seemed to snap Deuce out of his funk. "Right. I'm not the crew's mother. Let me focus on what I can actually control."
"Speaking of which," Deuce added as he turned back to his charts, "don't you need to say goodbye to Dora and her sisters?"
Jerry waved dismissively. "Nah, no need for dramatic farewells. We just helped each other out—that's what friends do. Besides, if we need to contact them, we've got Den Den Mushi. It's not like we're losing touch forever."
"Fair enough," Deuce said, giving Jerry one last look before getting back to work. "I'll go make sure we're ready for the crossing."
As the ship began to move, Jerry felt the familiar thrill of setting sail for unknown waters. Around him, his crewmates were buzzing with excitement about their upcoming adventure. Above them, their flag flew proudly next to Whitebeard's banner—a clear declaration of their intentions to anyone who cared to look.
The ship glided smoothly through Fishman Island's protected waters, heading for the underwater passage that would take them beyond the Red Line. As they entered the tunnel beneath the massive continental barrier, Jerry felt the weight of what they were about to undertake.
They were leaving Paradise—the first half of the Grand Line where they'd made their name—and entering the New World, where the truly legendary pirates made their stands. It was a realm of Four Emperors and Warlords, of crews that had been testing themselves against the world's strongest for decades.
But Jerry wasn't intimidated. If anything, he was excited. The Spade Pirates had proven themselves time and again, from their humble beginnings on a deserted island to their recent victory against overwhelming odds on Fishman Island. They were ready for whatever the New World could throw at them.
As the ship emerged from the underwater passage and sunlight filtered down through the ocean's surface, Jerry smiled. They had officially entered the second half of the Grand Line—the New World, where legends were born and dreams either came true or died spectacular deaths.
The Spade Pirates were ready to find out which fate awaited them.
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