Under the shade of an awning on the deck.
Nico Robin reclined gracefully on a wicker chair, her fingers lightly tapping on the table as she regarded Bahr with an amused glint in her eyes. "I recall the boss saying he wasn't a pirate. How is it that you've suddenly gotten involved in a Davy Back Fight between pirates?"
Bahr casually tossed a gold coin in the air, grinning without a care. "Just joining in on the fun, that's all."
"Tch." Robin scoffed, her gaze drifting subtly toward the oddly dressed woman beside Bahr. She curled the edge of a book page between her fingers, her tone laced with undisguised mockery. "Some people's principles seem as thin as paper when there's a pretty lady involved."
The remark made Bahr's smile stiffen for a moment. He glanced at Robin's penetrating eyes, then shrugged shamelessly. "A fair lady is a gentleman's desire."
What was wrong with liking beautiful women? It was just a man's nature—pretending otherwise would make him a hypocrite.
Robin didn't respond further, instead turning her head to gaze at the distant horizon where sea met sky. The sea breeze tousled her hair, but a faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered in her eyes.
In her twenty years of running, she had witnessed too much filth. Bahr's blatant "fondness for women," devoid of any hidden malice, was oddly refreshing in its honesty.
At least she didn't have to guess how many knives lurked behind his smile.
Bahr, meanwhile, couldn't be bothered with Robin's thoughts. He wrapped an arm around Porche's slender waist, his palm brushing against the bare skin of her lower back. He felt her shiver slightly in response.
Deliberately, he traced his thumb just an inch below the dip of her waist, then leaned in to murmur in her ear, "Come, let me show you the real treasure on my ship."
"Naughty~" Porche cooed, though she made no move to push him away. Instead, she leaned further into his embrace, twirling her baton deftly between her fingers.
During the earlier competition, the Foxy Pirates had suffered a crushing defeat. As the losing side, they were bound by the rules to surrender crew members of the victor's choosing—and this man had singled her out as his "prize."
Though she would miss her boisterous companions in the Foxy Pirates, the rules of the pirate world were as cold and unyielding as iron. Defeat meant submission.
From now on, her loyalty belonged to the man who now held her in his arms.
"Boss, really! Bringing yet another woman aboard?" Miss. Valentine stomped her high-heeled boots, her lace parasol creaking under her tight grip, her face twisted with jealousy.
The crew on deck was long accustomed to Miss. Valentine's tantrums, and no one bothered to respond.
Enel, meanwhile, lounged lazily on his "God Seat," biting into an apple with a crisp crunch. He muttered through a mouthful, "What's so great about women? They just slow down this god's lightning..."
...
The airship sailed steadily across the calm sea, guided by the Eternal Pose.
That day, when Bahr stepped onto the deck from the cabin, he found himself flanked by two women, each clinging tightly to an arm.
On his left, Miss. Valentine's cheeks were tinged pink, her fingers idly twisting the fabric of his sleeve. On his right, Porche swayed her silver baton, the blue strands of her hair barely concealing faint red bite marks on her neck.
Two pairs of eyes brimming with hostility met squarely over Bahr's shoulders.
Miss. Valentine's brows arched in a mocking curve, her gaze sharp as an icy blade—a silent warning to the newcomer not to dare encroach on her territory.
Porche, however, giggled and tilted her head, tapping the baton lightly against Bahr's chest, her eyes gleaming with triumph. A clear declaration: "The boss just favored me more."
Bahr glanced down at the two women locked in their silent battle, a smirk playing on his lips.
At their core, they were both coquettish—one asserting dominance with prickly petulance, the other ensnaring hearts with honeyed words. Neither willing to yield.
He had no interest in meddling in this feminine rivalry.
Their competition was like a whirlpool in the ocean—the more they stirred, the more entertaining it became. In the end, no matter who won or lost, he was the one holding the harpoon, reaping the rewards.
Looking up toward the bow, his vision was suddenly swallowed by an impenetrable black fog. The thick mist carried the briny scent of the sea, stinging his nostrils. Frowning, he stepped forward. "What the hell? It should be daylight by now."
Just moments ago, the three of them had been playing cards in the cabin when, in the blink of an eye, the sky outside had darkened—so quickly it felt like a trick of the mind.
Nico Robin turned from the lookout post, her voice calm. "Unclear. We sailed into this fog as soon as we entered this stretch of sea."
"The Log Pose—is it malfunctioning?" Bahr pressed, his brow furrowing.
"The needle's direction is steady." Robin opened her palm, revealing the Eternal Pose pointing unerringly forward, its tip quivering slightly. "But the fog is too thick to see the route ahead."
"Hmph. Mere mortals and their cowardice." Enel reclined lazily on his custom "God Seat," his silver-white hair swaying with the ship's motion, his tone dripping with arrogance. "This god's vessel wouldn't falter over something so trivial."
The disdain in his words was palpable, a clear dismissal of Bahr's caution.
Bahr couldn't be bothered to engage with the chuunibyou's taunts, but he had to admit there was truth in his words. The Ark Maxim was no ordinary ship—it wouldn't be thwarted by mere fog.
Besides, with him and Enel aboard, even if they encountered trouble, they wouldn't come out worse for it.
Suddenly, the lookout's shout pierced through the fog: "Island ahead!"
Bahr strode to the railing, gripping it as he peered into the gloom. A dark, shadowy landmass loomed in the distance, its silhouette dotted with Gothic spires that stabbed through the mist like skeletal fingers. Arched windows gaped like hollow eye sockets, exuding an indescribable eeriness.
This scene… Could it be—Thriller Bark?
Nico Robin approached, the Eternal Pose in hand. "The needle isn't reacting."
"Of course not. This island doesn't belong to these waters." Bahr recognized Thriller Bark immediately. Leaning on the railing, he explained, "It drifted here from the distant West Blue..."
"West Blue?" Robin's pupils contracted, her usually composed expression flickering with rare emotion.
Miss. Valentine stared at the twisted spires of the island's architecture, her grip on her lace parasol tightening until the frame creaked. Unconsciously, she pressed closer to Bahr. "How could an island from the West Blue drift all the way here?"
"Calling it an island is a stretch—it's actually a massive ship." Bahr smirked dismissively. "It's home to one of the Royal Shichibukai, Gekko Moriah. He hunts passing ships here."
"Royal Shichibukai..." Enel's fingers crackled with tiny arcs of electricity, his interest piqued. "What's that supposed to be?"
Nico Robin explained, "The Royal Shichibukai, the Four Emperors, and the Marine Headquarters are considered the three great powers of the Grand Line. Only pirates with enough influence are recruited by the World Government... to become Shichibukai."
"Oh?" Enel's eyes gleamed with blue sparks, lightning dancing between his fingers. His voice brimmed with excitement. "So they're not completely worthless. Now this is getting interesting."
Porche sidled up to Bahr, her baton tapping nervously against the railing. "Boss~ Our ship can fly, right? Why don't we just fly over this place?"
"Insolence!" Enel shot her a glare, his voice thunderous. "This is this god's vessel! How dare a mere mortal presume to give orders?"
Having vented his anger, he turned back toward the fog-shrouded island, tilting his chin up with haughty disdain. "This god descended to the Blue Sea to teach these ignorant fools the meaning of true divinity!"
Bahr shot Enel a sidelong glance, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. After a moment's thought, he shrugged. "Well, since we're here, might as well take a look. There's something on this island that interests me anyway."
Robin's gaze slid toward Bahr, her lips curling into a knowing smirk
that flickered in and out of view through the mist. She knew this man's tastes all too well.
If something had caught his interest, it was most likely a woman.