The twelve organ traffickers met their end at sea. For scum like that, Zhang Da Ye had no intention of leaving even the faintest chance of survival.
The battle itself hadn't left behind any dramatic destruction, so there wasn't much to clean up.
Still, Tom found the two net-launching guns and the chained sickle amusing enough to keep.
By the time they returned to the tavern, more than half an hour had passed—most of it spent on interrogations.
Artoria glanced at the time and asked, "Da Ye, are we still going through with today's plan?"
"Yes. We've got enough time, and after seeing those traffickers, I want to do it even more. The fewer people out there treating humans like objects, the better." Zhang Da Ye pulled out a vial of invisible ink and began coating himself.
Artoria and Tom followed suit. This time, Tom wisely leapt onto Zhang Da Ye's shoulder first, worried about being stepped on again like last time.
"Amazing…" Rui Meng Meng, experiencing it for the first time, watched in awe as the others slowly disappeared before clumsily copying their actions with the ink.
Zhang Da Ye crouched, smearing his feet and watching them vanish. "Use it sparingly. Every drop is one less. For now we'll use it to get used to this work, but later we'll switch to moving at night. Then we can save the ink for scouting and recon."
"Oh, okay." Rui Meng Meng fumbled with the bottle until she too vanished completely.
"Alright, if we're ready, let's go. Our target is Island No. 3." Zhang Da Ye remembered the trafficker mentioning that they operated near there, so that would be their next stop.
Artoria took Zhang Da Ye in one hand and Rui Meng Meng in the other, leaping over the wall with them in tow.
In truth, there was no need for the whole group. Bringing just Artoria and Tom, like before, would've been enough. But Zhang Da Ye wanted Rui Meng Meng to see it all firsthand. At the very least, she should understand what they were doing, and why.
…
Rewind a little, back to just after Zhang Da Ye's group left the shore.
A bald eagle circled high in the sky before soaring straight across the entire Sabaody Archipelago, finally descending on the far side.
Curiously, perched on its back was a sea otter.
The otter wore white clothes speckled with purple spots, a pair of sunglasses, and carried a sketchbook and pen.
At the beach where they landed, a white table and chairs were set up. Two men and one woman sat there, sipping black tea.
The woman wore a yellow dress patterned with lemons, a yellow hat, and carried a parasol. She was pretty, with a good figure, but her posture ruined any elegance she might have had.
One of the men was the very person Zhang Da Ye was looking for: the one with the afro. He wore sunglasses, his skin was tanned, and he was wrapped in a long brown trench coat. His hair wasn't just for show—the afro could actually explode.
The last man stood out even more: he wore a blue-and-white striped shirt, and his topknot had somehow been twisted into the shape of the number "3." He wasn't much to look at, but he drank his tea with an odd sort of refinement.
They were senior agents from Baroque Works, currently chatting idly.
The afro man asked, "Mr. 3, you still haven't chosen a partner?"
"Not that easy. My partner must understand art. Ideally, a painter who can add color to my creations."
"Yahaha! The 'Unlucky Duo' are back," the woman in yellow laughed without a shred of grace. "But really, Mr. 3, is all this fuss necessary just to deal with a tavern? Mr. 5 and I could handle it ourselves."
"If the goal were only to eliminate the tavern's owner, then yes, I'd let you go." Mr. 3 set down his cup and adjusted his glasses. "But our real objective is to capture that cat alive, as well as the mermaid that was spotted by chance. If we're lucky, this job could net us an extra hundred million berries. So we need to use our brains, Miss Valentine."
As he spoke, the eagle landed at the table's edge, folding its wings.
The sea otter hopped down, tore a few pages from its sketchbook, and spread them across the table.
The drawings showed Zhang Da Ye's group battling the traffickers, as well as the aftermath.
This was the so-called "Unlucky Duo": the sea otter, codename Mr. 13, and the eagle, codename Miss Friday.
In some countries, the number 13 is unlucky, and Friday is considered unlucky too. When the 13th of a month falls on a Friday, it's seen as a day of misfortune. Hence their nickname: the Unlucky Duo.
Their usual role was delivering messages and punishing failed agents, though they occasionally handled reconnaissance.
The otter's sketching was as accurate as a camera—he could capture likenesses in an instant.
Perhaps the employer was paying too handsomely this time, which explained why Baroque Works was going to such lengths in its early days.
After looking over the drawings, the afro man, Mr. 5, snorted. "As expected—trash."
Miss Valentine laughed, "Yahaha, if weaklings like that could handle it, the client wouldn't have bothered to hire us."
"No one expected them to succeed. The point was to test the targets' strength." Mr. 3's voice was calm.
"Three swordsmen, it seems. Mr. 1 would probably enjoy this job." Mr. 5 noted the weapons in the sketches.
Artoria hadn't hidden her sword with the Wind King's Barrier this time. In this world, there was no need to conceal its true name, and no one would recognize her Noble Phantasm anyway.
Mr. 3 had little fondness for Mr. 1, the cold-blooded killer. Proud of his intellect and art, he resented that a mere brute with a sword held a higher codename than him.
The only reason he hadn't tried to seize the codename was simple: he couldn't win.
Shoving the thought aside, Mr. 3 laid out his plan. "Since this mission has been entrusted to me, I will complete it perfectly. The Unlucky Duo will continue observing them. If you spot the mermaid again, notify us immediately."
"What if she doesn't show up?" Mr. 5 asked.
"If she doesn't appear within ten days, then we'll capture the cat first. We can't linger here forever."
Mr. 3 was confident. Judging from Mr. 13's sketches, their destructive power was less than Mr. 5's explosives—hardly impressive.
Whether by force or by trickery, capturing a single cat wouldn't be difficult.
Still, cautious as ever, he decided to personally visit the battlefield later to confirm the extent of their strength and avoid any miscalculation.
"My motto is 'small investment, big crime.' If we can deal with enemies without fighting, that's ideal. But if they're weak enough, then forget the schemes—better to think about how to turn them into works of art."
The eagle spread its wings again, carrying the otter back into the sky. The area was well suited for surveillance.
A/N: Miss Goldenweek won't appear until age sixteen. She's only six now, so for the time being, Brother 3 can enjoy himself alone.