The Terror Ghost glided steadily across the sea, wrapped in a thick veil of mist that clung to her hull like a gown. Only when there was a need to survey the surroundings would the fog part to reveal the ship.
So this is the inside of the Black Ship…?
Porche looked around curiously, studying the eerie interior as she followed the crew of the Davy Jones Pirates through the creaking corridors. They twisted and turned, passing countless doors, until she grew a little confused.
Is this ship really this big? From the outside, it didn't look like it at all…
At last, they brought her before a large door. The wall beside it, built from reef and coral, still clung with a pink starfish.
This is getting stranger and stranger… As expected of Captain Davy Jones' ship—it really is… unlike any other.
She tried her best to calm herself until she was seated at a round table, where a nautical chart was spread out before her.
When she was told that their next destination was Fish-Man Island, her nerves instantly tensed.
So it begins… this is where my skills as a navigator will be put to the test. If I fail… will they just throw me overboard?
There were no islands around here—not that she had heard of.
Porche could already picture herself standing on the end of a plank, the other side stretching into the sea… with Alvida standing at the rail, sword in hand, sneering as she threatened her to jump.
That damned woman!
"What's wrong?"
Alvida had noticed Porche's suddenly grim, heavy expression and asked with concern.
"Is there some error with this chart? I pieced it together from a bunch of defeated pirates. If there's a problem, just say so."
Huh?!
Porche snapped out of her grim fantasy, blinking at Alvida's words. After a dazed glance at the map, she muttered:
"No… no problem."
"Good. Then, with your knowledge as a navigator, pick out the best route for us."
"…Alright."
Porche was taken aback by Alvida's surprisingly gentle tone. It left her a little dazed. Carefully studying the map again, she said:
"Actually, following the 'Log Pose' route is best. It's the safe course established by those who sailed before us. But there's one area that requires special caution."
"Which area?"
It was still Alvida who asked, though now Davy Jones and the others had turned their attention as well.
"The 'Florian Triangle.' It's shrouded in perpetual fog, shipwrecks happen constantly, and countless vessels have sunk there. Even with a Log Pose, crossing it is incredibly difficult. It's about here."
The crew leaned in. The area Porche pointed out was almost directly on their course to Fish-Man Island.
"Of course, we could take a detour and avoid it." Porche said with confidence. "It would add about a month to the journey, but we'd still reach the Sabaody Archipelago. From there, we could have the ship coated and dive down to Fish-Man Island."
"A detour?"
Alvida chuckled and shook her head.
"There's no need. I didn't explain it to you earlier, but this ship can travel along the seafloor—just not indefinitely. So when we reach the Florian Triangle, we can simply dive beneath it."
Travel along the seafloor?
Porche was baffled. She could only think of three possible ways to do that:
1. Being a creature that could naturally breathe and move freely underwater.
2. Using a coating technique like that in Sabaody.
3. A submarine.
But the Terror Ghost and the Davy Jones Pirates clearly didn't fit any of those.
Just as she was about to ask, a tremendous creaking rang out, and the deck tilted sharply. She nearly fell but was caught in Alvida's steady hands.
A moment of weightlessness passed before the ship righted itself again.
"We're already beneath the waves."
Alvida smiled warmly—almost like a kind older sister from next door.
Porche remained skeptical until Alvida took her out onto the deck for a brief walk.
When she returned to the round table, her expression was still frozen in shock.
Nearby, Buggy was grumbling loudly about why his bounty had increased again.
Kuro sat beside him, silent and staring at the table, looking half like he was listening, half like he was lost in thought, but either way refusing to respond.
Meanwhile, Davy Jones sat smoking, reading over a newspaper.
It was the same paper Itomimizu had brought for Foxy earlier—discarded by him, then picked up by Porche and carried onto the Terror Ghost.
"Now you see, don't you?"
Alvida, hat removed indoors, idly ran her fingers through her wavy black hair.
"If we sail underwater, the Florian Triangle won't be a problem."
Of course, if they could, staying underwater the whole way would be safest.
But aside from Captain Davy Jones and Hachi, the rest of the crew would never endure such prolonged voyages in the deep. Even if they didn't start with thalassophobia, after one or two weeks beneath the crushing darkness, they certainly would.
Porche stayed quiet for a long time, still dazed by the incredible sights she had just witnessed.
Alvida nudged her. "Well? Have you decided?"
Jolted back, Porche realized that aside from Davy Jones, every crew member was watching her. Forcing herself calm, she replied:
"If we take the detour route, it will take about two months to reach Fish-Man Island. If we go through the Florian Triangle via the seafloor, then only one month."
"And since the Triangle has no known islands or settlements—only eerie legends—we'll need to prepare at least a month's worth of food and fresh water."
The Davy Jones Pirates had just plundered a great stock of supplies from Foxy's crew.
But even the best provisions wouldn't last forever. By the time they reached the Triangle, much of it would be spoiled. Meat could be found underwater, yes, but fruits and vegetables could only be resupplied on islands.
"I recommend that before we enter the Florian Triangle, we make port at the nearest island."
Porche pointed to a spot on the map.
"For example, Water 7—one of the most famous cities in Paradise."
The crew, all familiar with the Grand Line, nodded at once.
But none dared make the final decision.
Alvida turned to Davy Jones. "Captain, what do you think?"
"…We'll stop by Water 7."
Davy Jones agreed. But regarding the plan to pass through the Triangle underwater, he gave no opinion. He disliked the idea of diving just to avoid danger.
If every obstacle made him hide beneath the sea, then whether he ever reached Fish-Man Island—or reclaimed the power of the Terror Ghost—would hardly matter.
"What interests me right now is something else."
He unfolded the newspaper on the table.
The crew leaned in at once.
"Hachi, you mentioned before that Fish-Man Island is currently under the protection of the Whitebeard Pirates, correct?"
"That's right," Hachi confirmed with a vigorous nod.
"Then there's a chance we may encounter them."
Davy Jones tapped a finger against the headline.
"Does anyone know about this man?"
The crew's eyes widened at the words.
"Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, Portgas D. Ace, rumored captured by the Marines?!"
The accompanying photo showed Ace in his hat, smiling as flames curled around his arm.
The names "Whitebeard," "Ace," and "Marines" alone were enough to draw anyone's attention.
Even Porche, when she had skimmed the paper earlier, had only looked at the front-page bounty news about Davy Jones' crew and completely overlooked this.
The reason this news hadn't been front-page material was because its sources were "informants" and "insiders."
Neither the Marines nor the Whitebeard Pirates had issued any confirmation, so the report couldn't yet be proven.
Even so, the whole crew felt a heavy tension, like storm winds gathering on the horizon.
The world knew it well: Edward Newgate, "Whitebeard," cherished his crew above all else, calling them his sons.
If Ace truly had fallen into Marine hands… no one dared imagine the storm that would follow.
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