It was obvious that Brian knew today's battle would be brutal.
But Brian was no do-gooder—he wasn't about to play hero or offer free help. Advising Karl? Warning him? Not a chance.
Instead, he'd use today's fight to prove his worth—to make Karl see just how indispensable he was to the West Blue. Power, profit, and influence… all paving the way for Brian's eventual promotion to Headquarters.
Inside the Gattle Strait, two pirate ships sat anchored.
One flew a flaming skull flag—the mark of Astona's Blazing Pirates.
The other flew a serpent-skull flag—the Sea Serpent Pirates.
Their emblems alone were enough to tell who they were.
On the Blazing Pirates' ship, Astona was laughing and drinking with Captain Jerak of the Sea Serpent crew.
Then a man with a blond mohawk came up and whispered in Astona's ear:
"Boss, a large Navy fleet's headed our way."
Astona yawned, stretching his shoulders before replying lazily,
"Those Navy dogs just never quit. Always biting at my heels."
Jerak, ever the cautious one, frowned slightly.
"How many ships?"
"Twenty-six," the mohawk man said. "Judging by their hull numbers, all from the Seventh Branch—except one from the 243rd."
"Hahahaha!"
Astona burst out laughing.
"That idiot Karl still hasn't learned? Coming here to die again?"
Die? From twenty-six warships?
Jerak found that strange. And why was there a 243rd Branch ship mixed in with the Seventh's fleet?
He shook his head. He didn't know Astona well—certainly not well enough to risk his life helping him. And besides, he was a wanted man himself.
"Brother Astona, perhaps you should be cautious. They've got numbers on their side."
"Numbers?" Astona grinned. "If this were a few years ago, maybe I'd care. But now? Hmph. Just a mob of weaklings. Nothing to fear."
The confidence in his voice made Jerak curious.
He himself was no small fry—his own bounty was 75 million Berries—but even he wondered what kind of trump card Astona held that made him so fearless in the face of such odds.
"Governor, all branches have reached their designated positions."
"Then… begin the operation."
"Yes, sir!"
At Karl's command, twenty-five warships—including his flagship—moved into the Gattle Strait.
The narrow channel couldn't fit them side by side, so they advanced in five staggered lines.
On the pirate ship, Astona stood tall, eyes glinting coldly.
"Brothers!" he roared. "Let today's victory carry our names all the way into the New World!"
The New World?
Jerak's heart skipped a beat. Did Astona really plan to challenge the Grand Line?
Like all pirates, he dreamed of it—of the treasure of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger. But everyone knew: the Grand Line devoured men whole. To enter unprepared was to die.
"Kill them all. I want to snap their necks one by one!"
"Heh, my knives are thirsty for blood!"
"Finally, a real fight!"
Astona's crew were pure brutes—battle-hungry madmen. Every encounter with the Navy had left rivers of blood.
"Test fire the cannons!"
"Ready—fire!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions thundered through the strait.
Though only test volleys, the shells splashed down near the pirate ships, sending water and spray high into the air.
"Damn Navy! All they can do is hide behind cannons!"
Astona spat salty water off his face, scowling.
Moments ago, his men had been howling for battle. Now their tune changed fast.
"Boss, maybe we should pull back. If this keeps up, they'll sink us!"
"Yeah, boss, you still can't swim, right?"
"Let's lure them into the Devil's Sea. We'll have the advantage there!"
Can't swim?
That could only mean one thing—Astona had eaten a Devil Fruit.
But what kind? What power could give him such overwhelming confidence?
Jerak's brow furrowed. He was starting to see the picture—Astona wasn't retreating out of fear. He was setting the stage for something. He wanted a decisive victory—one that would make his name echo across the seas.
In that, he wasn't so different from Brian.
"Fine," Astona finally said. "We'll do it your way."
Ever cunning, he chose not to clash head-on in the strait. He was confident he could wipe out the Navy here—but there was more to gain from playing the long game.
"Governor, Astona's retreating! Your plan worked!"
Karl's adjutant George nearly shouted with excitement.
Karl smiled faintly, relief flickering in his eyes.
"Let's hope it goes that smoothly."
He'd been worried Astona had a hidden trump card—but now it seemed sheer numbers and firepower had done the trick. Against such might, even Astona was only flesh and blood.
Twenty minutes later, both the Blazing Pirates and the Sea Serpent Pirates had withdrawn into the Devil's Sea—a region of jagged reefs and treacherous currents.
"Governor, you truly are the pillar of the West Blue! Now Astona's got nowhere to run!"
The flattery came from Perod, eager to win favor. He wasn't Navy, but he was determined to marry Ann—and pleasing her uncle was a good start.
But before Karl could respond, Claire's Den Den Mushi suddenly buzzed to life.
"Go ahead."
Static crackled. Then a desperate voice came through:
"Governor… Governor Karl… requesting… immediate backup…"
It was Colonel Kyle of the 177th Branch—one of the key units forming the first "fishing net" in Karl's encirclement plan.
A plea for aid could only mean one thing—
the first net had already been shattered.
"Impossible! That fast?!"
Karl collapsed into his chair, his hands trembling.
According to his strategy, the 177th and 211th Branches—commanded by Colonels Kyle and Angelo—were supposed to delay Astona's fleet for at least five minutes. That window would allow the second and third "nets" to close in and complete the trap.
But now—Astona had torn through the first line like it was paper.
The carefully woven plan had unraveled before it even began.
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