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OP: AMP Ch. 144
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 03:38:31 +0000 UTCAt the port, the crew split into two groups.
Marcus, Goliath, Robin, and Alvida, the four of them would disembark at Mock Town to gather intelligence. The rest of the crew would head to the other side of the island to find Mont Blanc Cricket to learn more about Sky Island.
If either group obtained useful information, they'd regroup on the opposite side of Jaya.
As for Robin, Nami had specifically asked her to go along with the Mock Town group, after all, whether it was Marcus, Goliath, or Alvida, none of the three really looked like the type who could properly gather information without starting a fight.
Robin had agreed readily enough. Information gathering was one of her specialties, honed over years of evading the World Government.
As for Vivi? She was still aboard the Going Merry. The Whisper-Whisper Fruit transmutation was at ninety percent completion, just a little more to go.
The streets of Mock Town were cleaner than Marcus had expected, though that wasn't saying much. The town still had that grimy, lived-in feel of a place where violence and vice were part of daily life.
What was immediately noticeable, though, were the hostile stares being directed at their group, particularly at Robin and Alvida. On a pirate island like this, women who could be seen walking around openly and confidently were extremely rare.
Most women here worked in taverns or brothels, constantly under someone's protection.
Alvida, however, showed not the slightest hint of fear. She walked with the confidence of a queen surveying her domain, her head held high and a slight smile playing at her lips. For her, those greedy, predatory stares weren't threatening at all, if anything, she took them as compliments to her beauty.
Truth be told, she'd insisted on coming along not just out of curiosity, but because she didn't entirely trust the situation. This was a pirate island, after all. And while it looked like it was full of crude, rough men on the surface, what places like this never lacked was women. Pirates who earned treasure naturally wanted to spend it, and the entertainment district, they called it Pleasure Street here, was the most famous area on the island. The biggest money sink for visiting criminals.
And where could you find the most information? Taverns and information brokers, naturally, but Pleasure Street was another goldmine of intelligence. Plenty of rumors and secrets could be extracted from the working girls who serviced the pirates. Sure, there'd be exaggeration and gossip mixed in, but the sheer volume of information available there was unmatched.
Before long, the group arrived at one of the larger taverns in town, a two-story building with peeling paint and a sign that read "The Drunken Mermaid."
It was supposedly one of the places with the highest concentration of information brokers, according to the intel they'd gathered before landing.
The four of them walked inside without hesitation, Marcus pushing through the swinging doors.
The noisy chatter inside the tavern immediately ground to a halt.
Of course, it wasn't because of Marcus or Goliath. It was because of the two women.
Robin was a dark-skinned beauty with an air of mystery. And Alvida was tall, curvaceous, and radiating confidence. Both women were absolute knockouts by any standard. Even by Pleasure Street's high standards, they'd be considered premium.
Instantly, greedy eyes turned toward them. Several pirates started rising from their seats, clearly planning to make their move. But in the very next second, Marcus' hand moved to rest on the hilt of the Shichiseiken.
A wave of ghostly energy burst forth from the cursed blade.
Those with weaker willpower immediately felt goosebumps rise all over their bodies. A creeping sense of dread spread through the room.
It was as if, in that instant, they'd all been demoted to the bottom of the food chain. And the man before them suddenly appeared as a predator. A king among beasts, watching them with calculating eyes.
Just one wrong move, and those jaws would snap shut around their throats.
The first ones to break were the people sitting closest to the door, because they were nearest to Marcus and felt the full brunt of the cursed sword's aura.
"Get out."
Just two words. Quiet, but carrying absolute authority.
The pirate who'd been drinking by the door almost dropped to his knees from the pressure. In the very next instant, he bolted for the exit as if his life depended on it, terrified that if he hesitated even a second longer, he might not leave alive. The others near the entrance quickly followed suit, nearly trampling each other in their rush to escape. In less than a minute, the once-rowdy tavern had gone from packed to half-empty.
The bartender, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a scarred face, looked at the four newcomers and sighed heavily.
"They didn't even pay their tabs."
But clearly, he wasn't about to chase down the people who'd just fled to demand payment. He knew when to cut his losses.
It was obvious that some dangerous people had just entered his establishment.
The few pirates who remained in the tavern were either strong enough to resist the intimidation, or too terrified to move. Several were pretending to be very interested in the wood grain of their tables or the contents of their drinks, avoiding eye contact.
Robin watched this scene unfold and couldn't help but smile faintly, shaking her head.
On the ship, Marcus was usually easygoing and relaxed. He joked around with the crew, got into food fights with Luffy and Usopp, and generally maintained a casual atmosphere.
The four of them took seats at a table near the bar. Marcus tossed four small gold nuggets onto the wooden surface, where they clinked softly.
They actually had quite a bit of gold but since most of the islands they'd visited couldn't or wouldn't exchange gold for Berries, they were broke. Broke except for all that gold they were carrying around.
The bartender's eyes lit up immediately when he saw the nuggets.
Compared to Berries, gold was perfectly acceptable for trade, in fact, it was usually preferable. Gold was easy to resell and held universal value. Meanwhile, Berries taken from pirates? Who knew if they were even legitimate currency? The One Piece world had its fair share of counterfeit money, especially in places like this where criminals congregated.
Pirates trying to pass off fake notes weren't exactly rare.
The bartender approached their table. "What can I get for you folks?"
"Information."
"Of course. What kind of information?" The bartender smiled. He didn't immediately pocket the gold nuggets, showing some degree of professional ethics, and instead asked what they needed first.
"Sky Island."
The bartender's expression turned complicated.
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"
"If you don't have anything on that, just bring us drinks."
Was this an issue with the worldbuilding, or just the nature of this particular town? Most likely, news about Sky Island was just incredibly scarce. The few people who knew about it were powerful individuals, and why would powerful people bother explaining Sky Island's existence to weaklings who couldn't reach it anyway?
The bartender glanced around the tavern, checking to see if anyone was paying too much attention. Then he quietly gathered up the four gold nuggets and disappeared behind the bar counter. After rummaging around for a moment, he produced a slip of paper and discreetly handed it to Marcus, who unfolded the note and read:
Skypiea, also known as Angel Island. Adjacent to it is another place called Upper Yard. To reach Skypiea, you must travel to the Mangrove Archipelago and take the High-Speed Sky Route.
The information was brief, but it included a method for reaching the supposedly mythical island.
Mangrove Archipelago? That was a new term he hadn't heard before. And what the hell was a "High-Speed Sky Route"? It sounded like something out of a theme park.
His curiosity was definitely piqued now.
"Do you have an Eternal Pose for this Mangrove Archipelago?"
"That would be a separate price," the bartender replied with a smile.
"How much?"
"Four more gold nuggets like the ones you just gave me."
Marcus didn't hesitate. He pulled out four more nuggets and placed them on the bar.
This time, the bartender left the counter entirely and disappeared into a back room. He was gone for quite a while, long enough that Marcus started wondering if the man had just taken their gold and run. But eventually, he returned carrying a small wooden box that looked old and well-used.
"This is what you requested. Anything else you need?"
Marcus shook his head, taking the box and examining it. Inside was an Eternal Pose, the glass sphere showing a needle pointing in a specific direction.
So they'd managed to get exactly what they wanted, that easily? Just by walking into a random tavern and throwing around some gold?
Though it did raise an interesting question: if the bartender had this kind of information and even an Eternal Pose for reaching Skypiea, why did the people on this island seem to think Skypiea was just a fairy tale?
He turned his gaze toward the remaining tavern patrons, who'd been sneaking curious glances at their group.
The moment his eyes met theirs, every single one of them quickly looked away.
Marcus' attention soon settled on someone who clearly bore no hostility, a drunk slumped at a corner table, nursing what looked like his fifth or sixth bottle.
The man was watching them too, but unlike the other patrons who were eyeing the wooden box he had just purchased, this guy seemed more curious about the four of them as people rather than as potential marks.
Marcus flipped a gold nugget across the tavern. It landed perfectly in front of the drunk, who caught it reflexively.
"Got any information?"
The drunk stared at the gold nugget in surprise, then took a long swig from his bottle.
"You've got good instincts, friend. Yeah, I've got information about Sky Island, but I'll save you some trouble and tell you upfront: you should give up on that idea."
"Why's that?"
The drunk chuckled, tossing the gold nugget lightly to test its weight, then bit it with his yellowed teeth to check authenticity. Once satisfied it was real, his grin widened.
"Every single day, people come asking me about Sky Island. And every single day, without exception, they all end up giving up on it."
Marcus leaned forward. "Mind explaining why?"
The drunk gestured around the tavern. "Look around you. What kind of place do you think this is? Everyone here's either a pirate or got a bounty on their head. You really think you can get to Sky Island through the bartender's official information channels?"
He laughed bitterly. "Impossible. That place is under World Government control. They call it the High-Speed Sky Route. It's just a passage connecting the Grand Line to the Four Blues."
Around them, other drinkers were starting to pay attention, clearly hearing this information for the first time. The drunk didn't seem to care about the audience he was gathering.
"So naturally, getting to Sky Island through that route is easy, if you're legitimate. They've even got places to exchange currency up there, with guidelines and everything. Hell, there's probably tourist brochures."
He took another drink. "But for guys like us? Pirates and wanted men? We'd get arrested the moment we tried to use those official channels. So my advice? Just stay put here on Jaya for a few days. Wait for your Log Pose to finish recording, takes about three or four days, then continue sailing like normal. Forget about Sky Island."
The drunk shook his head with a wry smile. "That's what most pirates who make it here end up doing anyway. Accept reality, have a few drinks, then move on."
Marcus processed this information. If what the drunk said was true, it explained a lot.
Sky Island wasn't actually a secret to wealthy people or those with legitimate government connections. It probably wasn't even truly called "Sky Island," that was just what people called it.
But for pirates? With no money, power, and legal routes to take? Going there would be suicide.
Of course, those with real strength had other options. Kaido could just fly there. Big Mom could do the same. But the pirates gathered in Mock Town? They were bottom-tier. No power, and legal identity.
Unable to reach the supposedly mythical island, they naturally chose to believe it didn't exist. Self-deception was easier than admitting their own inadequacy. One person's denial spread to another, lie after lie, until it became accepted truth.
After all, how many pirates were actually educated enough to question the narrative?
Having pieced together the situation, he turned his attention to the bartender, who was still wearing that professionally pleasant smile.
"So, the first four gold pieces were for drinks we never ordered, and the last four were for incomplete information and a Log Pose that might not even work?"
"The first payment covers the drinks your presence caused us to lose when customers fled. The second covers the information requested, which was provided, and the Eternal Pose." The bartender's tone remained perfectly professional. "And as stated, we don't offer refunds."
He gestured toward the pirate flag hanging on the wall, the distinctive symbol of Doflamingo.
Marcus wasn't an unreasonable person. The bartender had a point, he had scared away paying customers. That much was fair.
But incomplete information sold at full price? That was a different matter.
"Your information wasn't complete. How do you explain that?"
"You asked for news about Sky Island. We provided news. More detailed information comes at different prices."
"Is that so."
Marcus tapped the table thoughtfully, as if considering his options. The bartender probably thought he was calculating whether pushing back was worth antagonizing someone connected to a Warlord.
Then Marcus smiled. "In that case, we're leaving."
He stood up and headed for the door, apparently conceding the point.
The others in their group looked surprised. The other tavern patrons exchanged confused glances but seemed to think it made sense. After all, every merchant on this island operated under Doflamingo's protection. That man had connections in both the underworld and the legitimate world, in criminal circles, he was known as Joker. Under normal circumstances, no sane person would choose to make an enemy of someone like that.
The drunk seemed slightly surprised by Marcus' easy capitulation, but he shrugged and went back to his bottle. To everyone in the tavern, it was just another small episode in a day full of them.
Before long, the tavern was bustling again. In Mock Town, idle pirates looking for drinks were the most common sight imaginable.
The bartender continued his work as usual, serving drinks and collecting payment. But after a few minutes, something felt off.
It was subtle at first, just a strange floating sensation, as if his body were being pulled upward while simultaneously sinking downward.
He shook his head to clear it, but the sensation persisted.
To wake himself up, he stepped out the back door for a smoke. After a few deep breaths of fresh air and half a cigarette, the feeling faded slightly, though it never quite disappeared completely.
Outside in the side alley, Alvida frowned. "That's it? We're just walking away?"
Marcus shrugged. "What else would you suggest?"
"I'm going back in there to smash the place up," Alvida said flatly. "He sold us garbage information and still charged full price. I don't appreciate being treated like an idiot."
She'd been a pirate captain herself once. She knew exactly how these information brokers operated, and she'd been burned by half-truths before. The sting of it never really went away. But Marcus caught her arm before she could turn around.
"Don't do anything obvious. Just wait. That tavern won't be operating normally for much longer."
"What?"
Alvida looked confused. Robin, however, grew curious and used her Devil Fruit powers to sprout an eye inside the tavern, observing the interior.
In the next instant, she felt something disturbingly familiar. It was a sensation of her soul being tugged away from her body.
"This is... soul sand?"
Marcus nodded. "Yep. I placed it right under the bartender's feet while we were talking."
He'd explained soul sand to the Straw Hats before. The regular version didn't produce the terrifying wails of the damned like the Nether Portal variety, and it wouldn't cause people to sink into it and be devoured.
But it still had effects.
It created a bizarre, unsettling energy field that made a person's soul unstable. People exposed to it became dazed. Their thoughts would wander. They'd feel simultaneously exhausted and restless.
Over time, anyone who stayed near soul sand would become listless and drained. The effect was cumulative, the longer the exposure, the worse it got.
Robin couldn't help but smile and shake her head. Marcus clearly had a vindictive streak when he wanted to. He wasn't just trying to get even, he was aiming to completely ruin that tavern's business.
With soul sand placed there, the customer base would gradually dwindle. People would feel uncomfortable without knowing why. They'd start associating the tavern with feeling ill or exhausted. Eventually, the place would gain a reputation as cursed or haunted.
And since the soul sand was buried directly under the bartender's position behind the counter, he would be the one most deeply and continuously affected. His performance would deteriorate. His friendly demeanor would crack. Customers would notice something was wrong with him.
Alvida still looked confused, so Robin explained the mechanics of soul sand in more detail.
"Oh. That stuff."
Alvida had experienced soul sand herself before, like most of the crew. People were naturally curious, especially after Nami had described the Nether Portal version in such terrifying terms. When the others had later experienced the regular version, they'd found it unpleasant, but not as bad as they'd feared.
That was why Marcus had prepared a weaker sample of soul sand for the crew to test, just so they could understand what it felt like without being truly endangered.
After that experience, none of them had any desire to go near it again.
The portal variety, which he used for his Nether access, was even worse. That version could actually trap people and slowly drain their life force. Some of the crew had seen what happened when creatures fell into it.
The zombified piglin that had fallen in? Yeah, that thing just disappeared. Nothing left.
