Chapter 32: The Unspoken Truth
"Where is this place?!" Ian's voice rose, sharp with a feigned fury as he interrogated T. Peng. "Here! What on earth is this place?!"
"REPORTING, COMMODORE IAN!" T. Peng finally snapped, his composure breaking as he shouted back, his voice raw. "This is a human auction! A place where people are bought and sold like livestock!"
Disco had been watching, utterly baffled by Ian's performance. Was this new Marine actually looking for a confrontation? The officers stationed on Sabaody changed regularly, and not a single one had ever dared to make trouble at the auction house. Their clientele consisted of nobles and Celestial Dragons!
Rubbing his hands together, Disco stepped forward, a greasy smile plastered on his face. "Whatever is this Marine gentleman talking about? I'm afraid I don't quite understand. Ohohohoho! Human trafficking is strictly prohibited by the World Government. How could we possibly engage in such a vile trade?" He gave a theatrical bow. "Allow me to introduce myself properly, Mr. Ian. I am Disco, the manager of this establishment. Every Marine stationed on this island for years knows that we are... a career referral agency! We help those who cannot find work secure suitable 'new positions.' Under the gracious patronage and protection of the Celestial Dragons, our operations are... decidedly not under Naval jurisdiction!"
His words were a clear, unsubtle message to Ian and his team: You have no power here. You can do nothing.
Seeing the Marines fall into a collective, frustrated silence, the guards who had been roughhousing the prisoners regained their bravado. One of them swaggered over to the woman and her daughter.
He raised his boot and stomped down hard on the woman's shoulder. "You ungrateful wretch! We found you a new job, and you're still not happy? Still crying?! What is there to cry about? Hahaha!"
SHIIING!
In a flash of steel and righteous anger, T. Peng's sword was in his hand. He swung it in a wide, furious arc.
FWOOSH!
A blade of blue-green sword energy shot through the air, whistling past the guard's helmet and continuing skyward.
THUD!
"GYAAAAAH!"
The burly guard collapsed to the ground, frantically patting his head. He was unharmed, but his helmet had been cleanly sliced in two by the razor-sharp energy.
"You... you people...!" Disco spluttered, his face turning purple with rage, ready to invoke the name of the Celestial Dragons once more.
But Ian's reaction stopped him cold.
"Uncle T! What do you think you are doing?" Ian barked, his voice dripping with false authority. He began prodding T. Peng's chest with his finger. "Who gave you permission to draw your weapon? Didn't you hear what Manager Disco said? This is a career referral agency. They are helping these people find employment! You will return to the base and reflect on your actions immediately!"
Ian was putting on a show, acting even more outraged than Disco himself.
T. Peng slowly sheathed his sword, "Bamboo," his eyes still locked on the trembling guard with a predatory glare. "My apologies, Commodore Ian. I lost control. I will accept any punishment."
On the surface, Ian was the picture of stern discipline. Internally, he was cheering. Good!
He turned and seized Disco's hand, shaking it with exaggerated friendliness. "My sincerest apologies, Manager Disco! I've caused you such trouble. Please, don't think badly of us. I may be new, but I know how things work here. The descendants of the Creators are your esteemed patrons, are they not? This is certainly no place for the Navy to interfere. I merely came by today to pay my respects." He leaned in conspiratorially. "If you happen to see any Celestial Dragons, please, put in a good word for me, won't you? You gentlemen carry on with your business. I'll be sure to discipline my reckless subordinate when we return!"
Disco could only stammer, "I— Hey, I—" but Ian gave him no opening.
He turned, hooked a finger, and his team fell in behind him without a word, following him away from the auction house.
"That guy... he doesn't let a man get a word in!" Disco fumed, his anger with no other outlet. He turned on his guards. "What are you all staring at?! Get that merchandise inside and locked up, you useless idiots!"
Once the "merchandise" was secured inside, Disco pulled out his Den Den Mushi and dialed a familiar number.
"Mr. Doflamingo, just as you anticipated, Ian has arrived on the island. More than that, I just saw him at the entrance to the auction house. I'm certain it was him!"
The Den Den Mushi mimicked Doflamingo's pensive expression. The Warlord was no fool. "Why would Jock Ian appear at your doorstep? Did anything... untoward happen?"
Worried he would be blamed, Disco rushed to explain. "No, no, no! Nothing at all! It seemed like he was just leading a small patrol, familiarizing himself with the island. And when I mentioned the Celestial Dragons... ohohoho, he folded like a cheap suit! Mr. Doflamingo, as soon as tomorrow's auction concludes, I will arrange for someone to keep a very close eye on him for you."
On the other end, Doflamingo's expression softened slightly. "Remember. Do not reveal your connection to me. A fine drama is about to unfold on that island. If you ruin it... hehehe..."
He didn't need to finish the threat. Disco could feel it emanating from the Den Den Mushi's face.
Not far away, Ian took a bite of the apple Skylark had handed him. His enhanced hearing had caught every word of Disco's conversation. As expected, the cunning Doflamingo had already set a plan for retaliation in motion. The specifics were still unknown, but waiting passively was not Ian's style. It was always better to stir the pot first.
Sensing the heavy, oppressive atmosphere hanging over his team, Ian was in no rush to leave. He led them behind the massive trunk of a giant tree and raised a hand, signaling a halt.
He walked up to T. Peng, taking another loud crunch of his apple. "Uncle T," he began, his tone deceptively light. "Do you think those people they just took inside... will really get good jobs? What kind of work do you suppose they'll find for that mother and daughter? They must be so looking forward to their new lives."
Crunch.
He stared intently at T. Peng, who kept his head lowered, unable to meet Ian's gaze. There was no other future for that mother and daughter. They would become slaves—playthings for nobles or Celestial Dragons. Everyone present knew it. The unspoken truth hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
End of Chapter