Chapter 266: Hiding in Plain Sight
The waters of the Grand Line were never truly peaceful. Even when the surface was calm, one could never ignore the turbulent undercurrents violently surging through the deep sea.
This was especially true in the waters surrounding the Sabaody Archipelago. The brilliant light provided by the Sunlight Tree Eve, combined with the endless stream of pirate ships descending toward the seafloor, made this particular stretch of ocean exceptionally lively.
And the shattered debris of sunken ships that occasionally floated to the surface served as a grim testament to the sea's brutal cruelty.
"What are those people doing? Don't tell me some idiot went and offended that monster again?"
A merchant ship had just departed from Fish-Man Island's surface port when its captain noticed massive squadrons of Fish-Men and Merfolk donning Neptune Army uniforms mobilizing aggressively. For a merchant deeply familiar with Fish-Man Island's operations, this immediately set off alarm bells.
These heavily armed squadrons were clearly distinct from the standard, routine patrol units.
"Let them do whatever they want. What does it have to do with us?" a young deckhand scoffed.
"What does it have to do with us?! You're young, kid; you didn't experience the absolute bloodbath that happened here decades ago," the veteran captain warned, his face pale. "Remember this: in our line of work, it is infinitely better to have a global bounty from the World Government than to ever offend that monster Nereus.
"The rules of the deep sea are currently written entirely by him. If some idiot actually manages to provoke that lunatic into issuing another complete lockdown of the ocean, none of us will survive."
"Is it really that exaggerated?" the deckhand asked doubtfully.
"Exaggerated? Kid, you pray you never live to see what he looks like when he loses his mind. Whoever offended him this time... they are already dead."
The middle-aged merchant violently shivered as horrifying memories from the past flashed before his eyes.
This was the absolute deterrence projected by a true apex powerhouse. In this world, the overwhelming martial prowess of a single individual was enough to dictate the outcome of a war. This was exactly why some incredibly powerful lone wolves could live completely free, unfettered lives.
As long as those lone wolves were willing to accept minor compromises, the World Government genuinely didn't want to engage them in a deathmatch.
However, for a massive organization, ordinary military strength remained equally critical. "Soldiers fight soldiers; Kings fight Kings"—this was the ancient tradition of the sea.
When the top-tier powerhouses clashed, their subordinates weren't just cheerleaders standing on the sidelines; they engaged in brutal, massive battles of their own.
If the gap in military strength was too vast, a faction could find itself in a tragic scenario where the boss won a grueling duel, only to discover their entire crew had been utterly slaughtered.
The systematic elevation of the Neptune Army's overall combat power had fundamentally improved Fish-Man Island's geopolitical standing.
By utilizing small, highly elite squads capable of posing lethal threats to organized armadas, the innate biological advantages of the Fish-Man and Merfolk races were maximized to their absolute peak.
The Neptune Army soldiers paid no mind to the terrified stares of passing merchants; they were solely focused on executing Nereus's direct command.
For centuries, Fish-Man Island had suffered unspeakable horrors under the shadow of the human trafficking trade. It was only after Nereus seized power that this bloody history was finally overturned.
However, the deep-seated, agonizing hatred toward slavers had never vanished. Countless victims from that era were still living on Fish-Man Island today. Whether it was the seething public sentiment or the iron-fisted political stance of the Royal Family, there was absolutely zero tolerance for human traffickers.
"Sector A sweep complete. No target sighted."
"Sector B, negative."
"Sector C, all clear."
"Sector D..."
As time dragged on, intelligence reports continuously flooded back to Fish-Man Island's command center, yet absolutely zero traces of any suspicious ships were found.
Occasionally, they did spot a few passing vessels, but after stealthy Fish-Man scouts infiltrated the ships for a closer look, they confirmed they weren't slaver ships.
"His Majesty's intelligence cannot be wrong. There is absolutely a slaver vessel operating in these waters. Otherwise, this decree wouldn't have been issued..."
"Madam Shyarly's divination also confirmed that a thorough search of this grid would yield results, but there are literally no ships sailing on the surface!"
Within the high-priority search zones, several elite strike teams had completely failed to locate their target. They hadn't even found a suspicious rowboat floating on the waves.
"Was the divination wrong?"
"Madam Shyarly's divinations haven't missed a single time in decades. We did intercept a few slaver ships in the outer sectors, but none of them matched the target profile His Majesty provided.
"The patrols stationed near the Red Port haven't reported any slaver vessels approaching either. Did these bastards sprout wings and fly away?!"
Karma crossed his multiple arms, his brow deeply furrowed. He felt that the current situation was utterly illogical. He even found himself glancing up at the sky.
Factions equipped with aerial combat units were incredibly rare. Fish-Man Island's Flying Fish corps happened to form a unique aerial division, but it was highly impractical for ordinary pirates.
If there truly was a slaver syndicate using advanced aircraft to snatch people, rumors of it would have spread across the sea like wildfire. It wouldn't be absolute radio silence like this.
Just then, a small cluster of bubbles floated past Karma's face from the depths below, triggering a sudden realization.
"Sweep all previous sectors again! But this time, don't just search the surface—sweep the entire underwater column down to the seafloor!"
The regrouped squadrons immediately dispersed, shifting their complete attention toward the deep water. Not long after, Karma received an urgent transmission.
"Target acquired! There's a specialized submarine operating in Sector C! These bastards are dragging unconscious victims onto a submarine! It's them!"
The frantic, excited voice crackled through the Den Den Mushi as the scouts watched several men in bulky diving suits shove an unconscious victim—fitted with an oxygen mask—through the submarine's airlock.
Compared to the virtually non-existent aerial vehicles, submarines occasionally popped up across the Grand Line. Certain highly advanced technological nations produced submarines with exceptionally superior performance.
"Heh... so these scum finally wised up and tried to hide in plain sight right under our noses..." Karma sneered viciously. "Let's show these arrogant fools exactly who the true masters of the ocean are!"
Ordinary ships sailing on the surface found it practically impossible to deal with Fish-Man Island's elite warriors, let alone when fighting underwater. This slaver syndicate had specifically exploited that psychological blind spot, hugging the seafloor with a submarine to successfully evade several waves of Fish-Man patrols.
Dealing with a submarine did present a slightly trickier problem for the Neptune Army. When a ship was on the surface, sinking it made rescuing the survivors relatively easy. But if they directly crushed a submarine in the deep sea, the heavily shackled slaves trapped inside had a much higher probability of drowning.
"Speaking of which, Commander... how exactly do we breach a submarine without sinking it? They didn't teach us this in the academy... And if we sink it here, what happens to the slaves?"
"We aren't in the abyssal zone yet; the pressure won't instantly crush them," Karma ordered coldly. "Rescue Teams, double-check your stock of Bubble Coral. Strike Teams, commence the assault!"
Submarines were highly unconventional vessels; slavers wealthy and connected enough to operate one were incredibly rare. However, the brutal escalation of the Great Pirate Era naturally forced an accelerated evolution in maritime technology.
THUD!
A heavy, muffled impact reverberated violently against the submarine's outer hull. In the dead silence of the deep ocean, the terrifying noise instantly echoed through every compartment, abruptly silencing the slavers who had just been cheering over their massive, high-quality haul.
"What was that?!"
"Sonar is only picking up schools of fish..."
"The periscope is completely blocked by seaweed! I can't see a damn thing!"
"Boss! Hull breach in Sector 3! We're taking on water!"
"It's Fish-Men! Those bastards from Fish-Man Island found us!!"
The interior of the submarine instantly devolved into absolute, screaming chaos. Under the captain's frantic orders, a squad of heavily armed slavers hastily strapped on diving suits, preparing to exit the airlock and fight. They knew perfectly well that if they didn't mount a defense, this submarine would become their iron coffin.
However, when the Neptune Army soldiers saw a group of clumsy, heavily encumbered humans willingly stepping out of the airlock to fight them in the open water... they literally burst out laughing.
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