When Zhang Da Ye returned to his post at the tavern, he was immediately surrounded by complaints.
All he could do was explain that he had been helping the navy and hadn't been able to stay.
But these customers weren't easy to appease. One after another, they started shouting for discounts.
"Hah~" Zhang Da Ye was stunned. He thought he was the only one who wouldn't fall for pretty faces, but it turned out these guys were all sharper than they looked. They talked about wanting to see beauties, but deep down, they were just angling for trouble.
Rolling up his sleeves, Zhang Da Ye cursed with a grin.
"Discount on the booze? Forget it. Broken legs, though—I can help with that! Come on then, who needs my service?"
"Booo…" The tavern filled with jeers.
"I'm not drinking here again!" someone heckled.
Zhang Da Ye replied calmly, "Good, then make sure you come next time after that."
"No problem!"
"Tom, play us another tune!"
The tavern was still full of laughter and noise. But every so often, someone brought up the morning's news.
"Did you hear? A ship carrying a Celestial Dragon has gone missing!"
"Really? That's… terrible… I mean, very unfortunate!"
"What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing at all, you must've seen wrong. This round's on me."
"Oh, then I must've been mistaken. To the missing Celestial Dragon—may he not suffer shipwreck, may he not meet sea kings, and may he not encounter a crazed pirate."
Zhang Da Ye muttered under his breath, "These guys are ruthless…"
By the time night fell, the four of them gathered in the tavern, ready to move.
"This time, no invisibility," Zhang Da Ye said. "We used up too much before, trying to bait the Baroque bunch. Tonight, we'll just wear masks. It's dark enough to cover us."
He pulled out four masks—though really, they were more like head coverings.
Artoria picked up a lion mask, eyes lighting up as she admired it.
"You like lions, Artoria?" Zhang Da Ye asked. "I saw a lion-pattern pajama suit at the shop before. Next time, I'll buy it for you."
"Mm." Artoria nodded, her little ahoge swaying expectantly.
Zhang Da Ye fixed a dog mask onto Tom. "From now on, you're a dog. Got it?"
"Woof, woof!" Tom barked so convincingly that he even squatted on the floor and wagged his tail like a real dog.
Zhang Da Ye patted his furry head and put on a monkey mask for himself. Rui Meng Meng took the rabbit mask.
They climbed over the courtyard wall and headed straight for District 4—the same island where Zhang Da Ye had crossed swords with Mihawk.
Moonlight trickled through the thick mangrove branches, faint but just enough to guide their way.
Following the intel they had gathered over the past days, they found a slave shop with its doors shut tight.
To avoid making a racket, Zhang Da Ye squeezed Tom through the door crack so he could open it from the inside.
Being paper-thin, Tom slipped in effortlessly.
Most of the slaves were already asleep, huddled together. Here and there came the sound of muffled sobs.
Moving quietly, Zhang Da Ye crept inside, dealt with the shopkeeper, found the keys, and began unlocking chains. One by one, they checked identities, freed the slaves, handed out money, and told them to find somewhere safe until dawn, then board ships to leave.
By now, they were seasoned at this. Tom naturally assumed the role of ferocious guard dog. Whenever a pirate tried to resist, he barked and clubbed them down.
As for the shop itself, Artoria happily used it as sword practice, tearing it into rubble within minutes.
Because it wasn't daytime, they didn't need to stagger the freed slaves' departures. It saved a lot of time.
That night, they "visited" all four shops on the island before heading back.
But with so many people freed in one go, Zhang Da Ye handed extra money to the last groups, telling them to stay a few days at inns in District 35 or the big hotel blocks in Districts 70–79 before leaving.
These slaves bore no obvious marks. With a wash and a change of clothes, no one would notice them blending in.
Naturally, the rescued were deeply grateful and curious about their mysterious benefactors.
"I wonder who our saviors really are…"
"Don't think about it. They wore masks for a reason—they clearly don't want to be exposed. Don't bring them trouble."
"I know. But I still hope that someday, if fate allows, we'll recognize them. At least then we'll have a chance to repay the debt."
"Yes, I noticed four masks: a monkey, a lion, a rabbit, and a… dog? That was a dog, right? But why did it look so much like a cat?"
"Of course it was a dog. What cat can bark like that? And honestly, it barked better than a dog."
"You're right."
…
After a night of demolition, they slipped back into the tavern. Zhang Da Ye yawned.
"Goodnight, everyone."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, boss."
They pulled off their masks and went upstairs. After a while, Zhang Da Ye came back down again.
"Tom, time for bed… what are you doing?"
Tom still had the dog mask on, walking on all fours, tail raised, pacing at the tavern door.
"Woof woof!" Tom barked at Zhang Da Ye, wagging his tail.
Zhang Da Ye laughed helplessly. "You're still in character?"
He yanked off the mask by its tail and saw Tom panting with his tongue out like a real mutt.
"Alright, that's enough. Back to normal." Zhang Da Ye rubbed Tom's face furiously, worried he'd turn into a dog for real, like that time he became a mouse.
Luckily, Tom wasn't lost in the role. He snapped back quickly, stretched, and climbed onto Zhang Da Ye's shoulder.
"Come on, bedtime." Zhang Da Ye carried the cat off to sleep. Holding a cat while dozing—what could be better?
The next morning, Zhang Da Ye woke, peeled a flattened Tom out from under him, and smoothed him back to shape.
"Morning, Tom."
Tom yawned, swearing silently never to share a bed with his master again—he always ended up squashed flat.
Of course, by midday he'd forget, and only remember that being near his master was comfier than his own little nest.
…
By dawn, word spread across District 4 about the slave shops destroyed in the night.
Most people didn't care. But other slavers quickly realized something was wrong. Someone was deliberately targeting their trade.
Some lost sleep, terrified of being killed in the dark. The cowards sold off their shops and slaves cheap, quitting the business altogether.
Meanwhile, among the slaves, whispers spread. Hope rekindled—they dreamed of the day their mysterious savior would free them too.
"Looks like they're getting cautious," Zhang Da Ye said during training. "Yesterday, we hit two empty shops. One even hired guards—not strong, but annoying."
"That's natural," Artoria replied calmly, swinging her blade. A small shockwave carved into the ground.
"Our raids have been frequent. If we keep this up, we'll draw too much attention. They may even track our pattern and set an ambush."
"Then maybe we pause a bit," Rui Meng Meng suggested. "Keep them tense, thinking we might strike any night."
"Not bad. And next time, we'll hit somewhere farther, avoid any obvious trail." Zhang Da Ye recalled a detective story where the investigator pinpointed a criminal's hideout by mapping their crime locations.
Maybe they should just draw lots for which island to hit.
He glanced at his energy reserves, then triggered a lottery spin.
For the first time in ages, his energy dropped by 90%. The glowing screen shattered into black motes of light, swirling into a magic circle on the ground.
A black circle that glowed—who knew such a thing was possible?
The glow faded, and from within came a gentle male voice.
"B-Series Robot… Unit 9…"
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