"Tonight's training will be doubled!"
Zhang Da Ye clenched his fists in determination. One day, he would shake off the shameful title of "weakest in the tavern."
Painful as it was, at least Rui Mengmeng had given him a clear answer. He turned his gaze toward Artoria.
Artoria swallowed the last bite of pastry, dabbed her lips with a napkin, and finally said,
"Da Ye, you mentioned the lawless districts are becoming unstable. That might actually work in our favor."
"Hm? You mean we fish in muddy waters?"
"Something like that. As long as we destroy the villains' dens without exposing our identities, even if we hit some major player, they'll just assume it was their rivals who did it."
She wasn't bragging. A veteran of countless battles, Artoria knew her way around war and strategy.
"That does make sense. We could stay hidden and try a few more hits."
"Another thing," Artoria asked, "those so-called emperors of the underworld—are they strong?"
Zhang Da Ye thought for a moment.
"I doubt raw combat strength is their main card. Their real power lies in networks, influence, and trade channels. Of course, they've got some tough subordinates, but I doubt they're top-tier."
He vaguely recalled that one of those underworld "emperors," a fat man, had been taken out by just one finger-gun strike from Stussy. Pathetically weak.
"In that case, even if we're discovered, it's not worth fearing. After all, your decision to act began with me," Artoria said.
She was referring to when, after witnessing the cruelty of the Celestial Dragons, her mood soured and Zhang Da Ye had pulled her along to raid a slave-trading den.
Artoria looked him straight in the eye.
"I came here as your knight. My duty is to protect you, so that you can pursue what you truly want without hesitation. Please, trust in my strength."
Her words calmed him more than he expected.
"To be honest, I mainly want to do this because I can't stand things like that…" he admitted.
Artoria, speaking so resolutely, was unbelievably charming. Flustered, Zhang Da Ye turned his gaze away, scooped up Tom, and rubbed his fur twice before concluding,
"Alright. Since everyone's on board, tomorrow during our break we'll smash one of their hideouts."
If possible, he hoped to wreck their operation while keeping tavern life and business running as normal.
An alibi, basically. Having watched hundreds of episodes of Detective Conan, Zhang Da Ye was confident he had that part covered.
Tom, suddenly picked up and rubbed, just looked blank and innocent.
After struggling free, Tom yawned. He'd been listening to this long discussion the whole time and was getting sleepy.
Zhang Da Ye chuckled, patting the cat's head.
"Alright, alright. Meeting adjourned!"
…
The next morning, Zhang Da Ye and the others went out for their usual jog. If nothing unexpected happened, they planned to stir up some trouble afterward.
And then—something unexpected happened.
"Da Ye, someone's been watching us," Artoria warned.
Normally, when they went out running, plenty of eyes followed them—curious glances, admiration, or simple interest. That was natural, given their fame and appearance on this island. Usually, Artoria ignored it.
But this time was different. From the moment they'd left the tavern, the same gaze had been fixed on them. It reeked of hostility.
Of course, surveillance this clumsy meant either overwhelming strength that didn't care about being seen—or complete amateur hour.
Zhang Da Ye figured it was most likely the latter.
"Then let's lure them somewhere quiet and see who crawls out… Why does this plot feel so familiar?"
"Because last time, those human traffickers followed us outside town before striking," Artoria replied.
"But this time I sense only two. They might have partners hiding nearby."
"Hah? So this crew's more professional than those small fry last time?" Zhang Da Ye suddenly thought of someone.
"Don't tell me that old fox Biznis is back?"
They kept jogging, casually adjusting their route as they spoke.
"Boss," Rui Mengmeng asked, "Biznis—that's the one who tried to kidnap Teacher Tom, right?"
"Exactly. Though I still don't have solid proof. That sly bastard covered his tracks with smokescreens—so damn annoying." Zhang Da Ye gritted his teeth.
"I'd almost prefer it was him. Then we could follow the trail back and finish it once and for all."
Soon, they reached the same seaside spot where they'd played yesterday.
With Artoria at his left, Rui Mengmeng at his right, and Tom perched on his shoulder, Zhang Da Ye crossed his arms in what he thought was a stylish pose.
After a moment, he decided Tom ruined the vibe—standing there with his round-eyed cartoon face—so he set him down.
That tiny delay was all it took for twelve armed thugs to leap out before Zhang Da Ye could even think of a cool line.
Most carried daggers, two had pistols, and two swung chained sickles.
"Well, well, you really came this way. Tough luck, kid. Hand over your hearts!"
"And your livers! And pancreases!"
Zhang Da Ye: "…"
Those lines carried a little too much information. It sounded like they'd studied his habits and jogging routes to ambush him here. Odd, considering he'd only chosen this path at the last minute.
He asked on reflex, "You guys an organ trafficking ring?"
"Smart kid. Someone's paying big for your organs. Best not to resist. If we damage the goods, it's trouble for us too."
"You guys—damn it!"
Before Zhang Da Ye could finish, the two with pistols had already fired.
Not bullets, but nets. Clearly, they wanted to capture him alive before harvesting organs.
Two flashes of sword light cut the nets apart—Artoria and Rui Mengmeng had already stepped in, blades raised.
A chained sickle whistled in from the side, aimed at Zhang Da Ye.
He instinctively whipped out his folding chair to block. The blade stabbed deep into the wooden seat. It wasn't steel—though built sturdily enough, courtesy of Tom's household—but still, there were limits.
The thug yanked his chain with a grin. With a harsh scrape, the blade gouged a deep scar into the chair before snapping back into his hand.
"My chair!" Zhang Da Ye winced. After all those draws, he only had this one folding chair left—and it fit his hand perfectly. He should've enchanted it when he had the chance.
Seething, he pulled out a streetlamp instead. Swinging the five-meter pole with his lean frame, he looked like Lin Daiyu uprooting a willow tree.
But this opponent wasn't some pushover. With both hands, the thug caught the chain taut against the streetlamp, the impact bending it slightly before springing back.
"A Devil Fruit user?" the thug muttered. He remembered the boy had been empty-handed earlier, yet now produced a chair and a lamp post out of nowhere.
No matter. His strength seemed ordinary. Perfect—this way he could raise the price when reporting back. Grinning, the man twirled his sickle again.
Zhang Da Ye stowed the lamp post and drew his knight's sword. Looked like this fight needed to be taken seriously.
Meanwhile, Tom had been forgotten in the corner. The sudden battle had left no time to prepare his outfit, and now he sat there, conflicted, wondering how he ought to make his dramatic entrance this time.