The pitch-black hull of the Terror Ghost drifted silently through the depths of the night. Thick, milky-white fog clung to the ship like a heavy fur cloak, trailing behind it as it moved. Only the waters directly ahead of the bow remained clear, as if the darkness parted to make way for it.
In the dead of night, Davy Jones suddenly opened his eyes.
He sat up from his bed without lighting the oil lamp. With a casual flick of one of his tentacles, he reached into a shadowy corner of the cabin and plucked his tricorn hat from the coat rack.
Fully dressed, he stepped out of his quarters. Bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight, he looked up at the towering mast above.
There was still a faint yellow light flickering in the crow's nest, where Alvida was keeping watch for the night. She hadn't noticed the movement on the deck below.
Jones pulled out his pipe and lit it slowly. The glowing ember at the end of the pipe flared briefly in the darkness like a firefly.
"Who are you?" he asked calmly, sitting on a barrel, his voice directed toward a certain patch of shadow. "And what do you want, sneaking onto my ship?"
After a brief pause, a man cloaked in a long green robe stepped out from the shadows. He walked to the bow, where the moonlight illuminated half his face—marked with strange, distinctive patterns.
"You can call me Dragon," the man said, casually surveying the ship before settling his gaze on Davy Jones. "I've heard rumors. You piqued my curiosity. And since I happened to be nearby, I came to take a look."
Dragon…?
Davy Jones's senses sharpened immediately under the enhancement of his Observation Haki. His instincts screamed of danger—this man's strength was likely not below that of Dracule "Hawk Eyes" Mihawk, whom he had previously encountered.
Against either of them, Jones knew he was outmatched. His only chance of survival in such encounters lay in leveraging the nature of the sea around him. And for now, that was enough.
"You're curious about me… I'm curious about you as well," Jones said as he puffed on his pipe, exhaling a ring of smoke. "Let's make a trade—answer each other's questions, and satisfy our curiosity."
"Like you did with 'Hawk Eyes'?" Dragon asked, his lips curling into a faint smile.
Jones wasn't surprised. He had never expected Mihawk to keep their meeting a secret.
"Exactly like that."
Dragon chuckled, then nodded after a moment of thought. "That's acceptable. A peaceful exchange wouldn't be so bad."
"Have a seat," Jones gestured toward a barrel next to him with the tip of his pipe.
Dragon sat down without protest. "Let me start by offering you some intelligence. Near Reverse Mountain, where you're headed, a large number of Marines are gathering. They've laid out what they believe is an impenetrable net—waiting to wipe you out."
"I figured as much," Jones replied calmly. After the chaos he'd caused over the past month, it would've been strange not to attract the Navy's attention. Otherwise, the name 'Davy Jones, the Deep Sea Reaper' would be meaningless.
Dragon noted that Jones's composure wasn't an act. He truly seemed unfazed—clearly, he had cards to play.
"In exchange," Dragon said, "the first thing I want to know is—are you really the legendary 'Davy Jones of the Deep Sea'?"
"I am… and I'm not," Jones replied evasively. "I'm slowly regaining my power."
"Is that so?" Dragon frowned slightly. "The new era is about to arrive, and yet, so many legends from the old era are returning to the world. It's… peculiar."
"I'm interested in those so-called 'legends from the old era' you mentioned. Let's hear some."
"Heh…" Dragon smiled, clasping his hands together, fingers interlaced, head slightly bowed. "Most who know of these things have already been erased by the World Government. But I don't suppose you're afraid of that."
"In addition to the Deep Sea Reaper, there's the tale of a 'Warrior of Liberation' from centuries ago—known as Joy Boy. It's said that whenever an old era crumbles and a new one begins, he reappears, leading the world toward freedom."
"A fascinating legend," Jones murmured, his tentacles twitching thoughtfully.
"What do you think of the current era?" Dragon asked, getting to his true question.
"Hah." Jones chuckled. "I'm probably the wrong one to ask. To be honest, I don't care what kind of era it is. Old or new—it's all the same to me."
Dragon shook his head and, seemingly forgetting their original agreement to exchange questions, began to speak more freely.
"When Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King, was executed, he sparked the Great Pirate Era. Since then, more pirates than ever before have surged into the Grand Line. It led to chaos… and the rise of the Four Emperors and the Seven Warlords."
"Some rob and kill without conscience. Some live for adventure and disappear like ghosts. Others carve out territory and settle down. But no matter what kind they are, most pirates have brought nothing but suffering to the world."
"They divide up the seas, demand protection money, engage in black market dealings… bringing only destruction and disorder. So then—should all this be blamed on Roger's final words before his death? If he hadn't spoken of the One Piece, would the world have remained peaceful and secure?"
But even before Jones could respond, Dragon shook his head again.
"No… no, it wouldn't have. Because long before the Great Pirate Era, it was the World Government that was already inflicting deep wounds upon the world."
"Look at the Celestial Dragons and their Heavenly Tribute. If a nation can't pay, it's destroyed—how is that any different from piracy?"
"Are there really that many true pirates in the world? No—many were just ordinary people who set out to sea without the Government's permission, only to be labeled pirates later on. Their actions differ completely from what you'd expect of traditional pirates."
"Does the World Government protect the world? No. They merely maintain the status quo—unwilling to let the tides of change wash over the sea."
"There are three things in this world that can never be stopped: Inherited Will, Human Dreams, and the Flow of Time."
Dragon straightened his posture. From beneath the hood of his green robe, his eyes shone with determination as he locked eyes with Davy Jones—making it clear that his words were no idle fantasy.
"If the shackles of the old era can't be broken, then flipping the entire table might just be the best option."
Jones looked at him for a moment. "Seems you're neither on the side of the World Government… nor with the pirates."
"I'm part of the Revolutionary Army. One wave among the tides of change," Dragon replied, rising from the barrel. "Maybe your arrival is one of many signs—that the truth of the Void Century is about to be unveiled to the world."
He turned with a flourish of his cloak and walked to the edge of the deck.
"I have a feeling we'll meet again. Just as the seas of the four oceans eventually flow into one, so too will our paths converge."
With that, Dragon vaulted over the side of the ship and into a small boat tied alongside. Slowly, he rowed away—disappearing into the fog.
Davy Jones stood motionless, watching the strange man vanish into the mist. In truth, he admired Dragon's resolve. Waging war against the world, calling for revolution—these weren't things that could be done with mere words.
It seemed the world beyond the Grand Line would be far more tumultuous than he had imagined. As the legendary terror of the seas, Davy Jones, he was starting to feel genuinely excited.
Then, he looked up toward the crow's nest—and his gaze met Alvida's, who had been eavesdropping.
"C-Captain…" Alvida pulled her head back in panic. "I didn't mean to overhear! I was just on watch and suddenly heard voices on the deck, so I peeked down…"
"It's fine," Jones said with a shake of his head, turning to walk back to his quarters. "Just keep your watch."
"Yes, Captain."
He didn't blame her for failing to detect Dragon's approach. After all, given the vast difference in strength between the two, it was unreasonable to expect her to sense him if he didn't want to be noticed.
Clack.
The door closed behind him.
Alvida breathed a sigh of relief, wrapping herself tighter in a blanket. In the chill of the pre-dawn air, she huddled down and continued her watch—waiting for morning to come.
She hadn't caught everything from the captain's conversation with Dragon. But even the fragments she overheard were enough to keep her mind racing for the rest of the night.
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