Grey Reef Island.
After leaving Asuka Island, Ryan and his crew sailed for four days before arriving at this island. The docks were simple yet bustling, with several small and medium-sized merchant ships busily unloading goods. Islanders carrying wicker baskets hurried back and forth.
As soon as the ship dropped anchor, Ryan stepped off the gangway and landed steadily on the dock. The sleeves of his light-gray short work jacket were casually rolled up to his forearms, revealing his sturdy wrists. His right hand rested naturally on the hilt of the Seven Star Sword slung at his waist, the blade occasionally clinking against his belt with each step, emitting a low hum.
Over the past four days of sailing, Ryan had spent considerable time studying the sword. The Seven Star Sword possessed a sinister power that could merge with its wielder, achieving a state of "unity between man and sword," granting the user access to the sword's full power.
Unlike Saga, who fused the sword with his body, Ryan was its master. Merely wielding it allowed him to achieve this unity.
These were minor details, not worth dwelling on. What truly intrigued him was the Lightning-Lightning Fruit the sword had devoured. Through the Seven Star Sword's unique properties—acting like a converter—Ryan could harness the fruit's abilities almost as if he had eaten it himself.
However, since it was the sword that had consumed the fruit and not Ryan, abilities reliant on the "assimilation of body and fruit"—such as elementalization, electric conduction, and lightning-based regeneration—were beyond his reach. Even so, the enhancements provided by the Seven Star Sword after absorbing the Lightning-Lightning Fruit were astonishing, with immense potential yet to be explored.
By the docks, fishermen huddled together, chatting in hushed tones. Though they kept their voices low, their eyes kept darting toward the island's interior, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness. This piqued Ryan's interest, and he approached them. "What's happening in town?"
"It's... Pirates," an old fisherman mending a net stammered, nudged by his companions. "A group of pirates showed up at the eastern shallows, forcing another crew into some kind of competition. They said the losers have to hand over their crewmates..."
Hand over crewmates? That sounded like the pirates' "Davy Back Fight"!
"Interesting," Ryan mused, a faint smile curling his lips as he turned to his crew. "I'm heading over to check it out. What about you?"
Zala immediately stepped forward, her hips swaying slightly as she spoke briskly, "I'll take BABE into town to stock up on fresh water and supplies. I already have the list ready."
Ryan nodded. They had docked here precisely to replenish their essentials.
"I'll go with Zala," Daz Bonez said flatly, his expression as impassive as ever.
"Then I'm going with the Captain to see the fun!" Mikita couldn't contain her excitement, skipping over to loop her arm through Ryan's, her eyes sparkling. "This sounds way more interesting!"
Without a word, Ryan started walking toward the eastern shallows, Mikita giggling as she followed.
As they passed through the coconut groves at the edge of town, the noise grew louder. In the distance, they spotted a comically designed ship anchored by the shore, its bow adorned with a cartoonish fox head wearing diamond-shaped sunglasses that gleamed obnoxiously in the sunlight. The grinning fox on the skull flag faced the makeshift arena.
That flag—it was the Foxy Pirates! He hadn't expected to run into them here.
"Captain, what's wrong?" Mikita asked, noticing Ryan's pause.
"Nothing. Let's go." Ryan didn't elaborate, continuing toward the arena. The shallows had been cordoned off with thick ropes into a circular ring over ten meters in diameter, colorful strips of cloth fluttering along the perimeter—the unmistakable setup for a "Groggy Ring" match.
By the time Ryan and Mikita arrived, the fight inside the ring had just ended. The defeated pirates were pointing angrily at the Foxy Pirates, shouting accusations. "You cheats! Using your abilities to interfere with the match—what kind of skill is that? You're just playing dirty!"
"A loss is a loss! Stop whining!" Hamburg of the Foxy Pirates kicked the fallen pirate, while Capote licked his lips smugly, his long tongue flicking out.
Standing on the referee's platform, Foxy raised a megaphone and screeched, "Rules are rules! The Sea Otter Pirates lost! Hand over your ship's doctor, or else—"
"Tch, that's it?" Mikita leaned against Ryan, her voice deliberately loud. "We just got here, and it's already over? How boring!"
Foxy's hand froze mid-air, his wrinkled face contorting in fury as he whipped around, his beady eyes scanning the crowd for the source of the interruption. "Who the hell dares to—"
His voice died in his throat the moment his gaze landed on Ryan. His face stiffened, the insults he'd been about to hurl vanishing as his eyes bulged like saucers. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, trickling down the part in his ridiculous hairstyle.
"Sev—Seven Warlord... the Wanderer, Ryan!" Foxy gulped audibly, his voice trembling as his jaw hung slack.
The other pirates turned as well, and the moment they recognized Ryan, the entire arena fell silent, as if struck by a paralysis spell. The Foxy Pirates stood frozen, their earlier bravado gone, their legs wobbling beneath them.
Ryan remained calm, his gaze sweeping over the scene before settling on Foxy. The man was short, his messy split hairstyle absurd, his gaudy clothes doing nothing to hide his panic.
However, the woman beside Foxy was hard to miss.
Tall and slender, with blue hair tied back, she wore a large white hat atop her head and deep-purple frameless glasses perched on her delicate nose. Her red short coat was adorned with metal epaulets, its cuffs trimmed with white fur pom-poms. Beneath it, her outfit hinted at more, her loose red pants cinched at the waist with a pink sash. Black leather boots completed the look, and she held a baton in one hand.
Though her outfit was eccentric, her beauty was undeniable—this was Porche, the Foxy Pirates' navigator and cheerleader.
At the moment, Porche's eyes were wide with shock and unease.
Foxy stood frozen for three seconds before scrambling forward, his hands rubbing together obsequiously, his smile more of a grimace. "S-Seven Warlord, sir! What brings someone of your stature to a place like this? Is there... something you need? Just say the word, and we'll—"
Ryan watched Foxy's groveling with indifference. This was the kind of man who bullied the weak but cowered before the strong—fitting, given the fox figurehead on his ship.
His eyes flicked to the empty ring. "Just passing through. Thought I'd watch the show."
"The show?" Foxy blinked, then nodded frantically. "O-Of course! We'll start another match right away! We'll make the Sea Otter Pirates fight again—guaranteed to entertain you!"
He shot his crew a look, and Capote and Hamburg immediately moved to drag the dazed Sea Otter Pirates back into the ring.
"No need," Ryan cut in, his lips quirking as he met Foxy's desperate gaze. "I hear you like 'Davy Back Fight'?"
Foxy's smile faltered. "Y-You mean...?"
"I mean," Ryan took a step forward, his shadow engulfing Foxy as his tone turned playful, "I'll play a round with you."
"!!!" Foxy's eyes nearly popped out of his skull, sweat pouring down his face and into his collar. His voice cracked. "M-Master Ryan, th-that's impossible! You're a Seven Warlord! Playing this kind of game with us would be... beneath you!"
"Golden Lion's disciple," "Slayer of the Golden Lion," "Slayer of Crocodile," "One with the right to challenge the world's greatest swordsman"—none of these titles were ones Foxy could afford to provoke. Playing "Davy Back Fight" with someone of that caliber? Even if he won, he wouldn't dare claim the prize. If he lost, his ship might end up in pieces!
But the moment he thought to refuse, Ryan's faintly amused gaze locked onto him, and the words died in his throat. He could only wipe his sweat furiously.
"What?" Ryan tilted his head. "Afraid?"
"N-No! Of course not!" Foxy's pride stung at the taunt, and he puffed out his chest despite himself.
Maybe... maybe he could sneak in a little "trick"... The rules never said anything about not using abilities against strong opponents... Foxy glanced at Porche, who was shaking her head frantically, clearly thinking this was madness.
"Th-Then, as you wish, sir! Wh-Which event would you like? Groggy Ring? Or... something else?" Foxy forced himself to ask, his smile strained.
Ryan's smirk deepened at Foxy's barely concealed terror. "Groggy Ring. One round, winner takes all."
"O-One round..." Foxy's face went deathly pale. He nearly collapsed on the spot.
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