New World
The Vesper Pirates were gathered in full force—minus Orion, Anman, and Wilanyu, who had mysteriously vanished.
"Captain Vesper!" Salem began, his voice heavy with concern. "Our officer count doesn't hold a candle to the Rocks Pirates. If Brook pulls a fast one and shows up late, we're gonna take a beating! Why not take a page from Saracha's book? Pull back, ditch these islands for now. Belly can be earned again—lives can't!"
Salem wasn't sold on clashing with the Rocks Pirates head-on. Not yet. He figured they should wait for Brook and the Hell Pirates to join them. Too many variables were at play otherwise.
Last time, tensions had already flared between their crews. Sure, Shirokiri and his lot had stirred the problem first, but the Hell Pirates had bailed early, leaving the Vesper Pirates high and dry, nearly costing them everything. That grudge still lingered—alliances didn't erase bad blood. And now, with Orion, Anman, and Wilanyu gone, it was no stretch to point fingers at Brook. Those islands the Hell Pirates controlled moved way too fast, and everyone knew it was Orion's Wind-Wind Fruit at work.
The bad blood ran deep. Trusting the Hell Pirates was a gamble they couldn't afford.
"You're saying we just let Rocks trash Ten Kings Island and Madagascar Island?" Vesper shot back, his pride as a New World overlord flaring. "What kind of ruler hands over his turf without a fight? Even if I'm past my prime, I can still hold Rocks off for a day or two. If Brook doesn't show within two hours, we fall back to Ten Kings Island. Deal?"
Vesper's pride wouldn't let him abandon his territory outright, but he wasn't reckless. He'd compromised to avoid getting burned by Brook again. Deep down, he hoped Brook understood the stakes—when one crew fell, the other would be next. Lip service to alliances was one thing, but survival demanded cooperation.
Still, Vesper couldn't stomach the thought of Rocks seizing Madagascar Island, his stronghold and life's work. His soon-to-be daughter-in-law was there, too.
Damn, I'm getting old, he thought. A so-called overlord relying on backup? Pathetic.
All he wanted now was to see his grandson born, then he'd wash his hands of this chaos. Let the young bloods fight it out.
...
Salem's expression didn't change, but his gut churned with dread. He'd been Vesper's right-hand man for nearly two decades, steering the Vesper Pirates through countless storms. His sense of the bigger picture was sharper than Vesper's, and this plan reeked of desperation. Banking on Brook was a death wish—nine times out of ten, it'd backfire. Why sacrifice islands they could rebuild later when teaming up with the Hell Pirates guaranteed a win?
Seeing no way to sway Vesper, Salem slipped away during a lull, claiming he needed a quick bathroom break. He grabbed a Den Den Mushi and dialed his daughter, Karina.
"Same as last time," he whispered. "Disguise yourself and get out now. This is gonna be worse than before."
...
"Salem," Vesper said, his voice steady but commanding, "before Brook arrives, you handle Skal, the Warrior Monk. Shirokiri, you take down Ochoku and Grimm Vane—fast. I'll hold Rocks at bay for an hour."
Vesper knew Salem's strength rivaled Shirokiri's, but their styles differed. Salem leaned toward cunning, while Shirokiri was all-out offense. Ochoku, with a 710-million-Belly bounty, and Grimm Vane, at 700 million, were prime targets for Shirokiri's aggressive approach.
The loss of Orion (800 million) and Sandy (900 million) to Brook had thrown a wrench in the usual matchups between the overlord crews' officers. The Vesper Pirates still had two high-end fighters, but the Rocks Pirates boasted far more officers above 500 million Belly. Shirokiri would have to pull double duty to keep losses to a minimum.
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