Chapter 143: The Arms Dealer Friend (Patreon)

Chapter 143: The Arms Dealer Friend

Above the coral reefs of Fish-Man Island,

a deep blue flag adorned with silver-embroidered cross patterns swayed gently with the ocean currents.

The emblem of the Cross Guild was now firmly planted atop the coral tower, replacing the Sea God Flag that once symbolized the Fish-man Kingdom. The striking deep blue stood out vividly amidst the colorful coral clusters,

exuding both a steady sense of oppression and an undeniable air of aggression.

Passing ships slowed at the sight of that cross insignia, and even the most unruly pirates tempered their bravado. After all, everyone knew that any faction capable of earning the joint acceptance of Whitebeard's remnants and the Fish-man race was not to be trifled with.

The port remained a scene of stern discipline.

Enel sat atop a makeshift high platform, wreathed in faint purple lightning. Occasionally, his gaze swept over the bustling crowd below, his arrogant demeanor making the very air around him seem charged with paralysis.

Behind him, Shura and Ohm carried out their respective duties—the former shouldering his rifle in the shadows, while the latter scribbled rapidly in a ledger, occasionally barking orders at pirates who tried to cut in line, his voice brooking no argument.

"Newcomers, move faster!" Jabra leaned against a coral pillar at the port, his claw-like fingers leaving shallow scratches on its surface as he growled at a group of laborers hauling supplies.

Though his words were laced with curses, the corner of his eye never missed a single suspicious figure, silently memorizing the flow of people and the movement of goods throughout the port.

Not far away, Kaku directed several Fish-men in reinforcing the dock, his expression stern and unreadable. Yet his hands moved swiftly with a saw, sending wood shavings flying amidst the seawater spray, making him look every bit the genuine craftsman.

Blueno stood at the end of the dock, his towering frame like a reef. Anyone attempting to sneak around to the back of the port would find themselves subtly but firmly blocked by him. His flat declaration—"No passage that way"—carried an undeniable weight that left no room for protest.

Kumadori stood beside the registration point, hands clasped in prayer, murmuring under his breath as if blessing passersby. Yet between the rotations of his prayer beads, he meticulously committed the appearances and auras of every registrant to memory.

Kalifa stood at the innermost part of the registration desk, verifying the identities of recruits.

Dressed in the Cross Guild's standard-issue coat, her hair tied into a neat ponytail, her gaze behind her glasses coolly scanned each file. Occasionally, she exchanged a few words with those registering—her tone indifferent, yet always pinpointing the most crucial details.

Only when her peripheral vision caught sight of Enel atop the high platform did her fingers tighten imperceptibly. Bahr hadn’t come to the port today, which gave her some relief—but she couldn’t help wondering what he was up to at that very moment.

As days passed, the changes in Fish-Man Island became increasingly visible. The panic that once filled the streets gradually dissipated, and Fish-men began emerging from their coral homes, setting up stalls once more to sell pearls and coral crafts.

Though pirates still gathered at the port, none dared to cause trouble as recklessly as before. After all, no one wanted to experience the sensation of being struck by lightning or buried alive in sand.

The Cross Guild’s recruitment efforts progressed steadily. Every day, wanderers from across the seas came to register—some fleeing Marine pursuit, others drawn by the Guild’s strength, and still others simply seeking a meal.

Enel never interfered with these matters, only setting the rule of "combat prowess takes priority." The rest of the screening and registration work fell entirely on Nico Robin, Paula, and the others.

By evening, the setting sun refracted through the Red Line, casting a golden-red glow across the sea.

Kalifa closed the last file, watching as the port gradually quieted down. She couldn’t help but look up at the Cross Flag fluttering atop the coral tower.

The deep blue flag shimmered faintly in the twilight, the sound of the wind rustling through the fabric mingling with the distant laughter of Fishmen—an eerie yet harmonious blend.

She exhaled softly, tapping her fingers lightly on the file folder.

The more stable Fish-Man Island became, the firmer the foundation of the Cross Guild would be, and the safer their covert operations. But beneath this stability, how many schemes and hidden agendas lurked? Perhaps only the sea breeze knew.

As for Bahr… the recruitment at the port, the raising of the flag—he had only heard Nico Robin mention them in passing before promptly forgetting about them.

At that moment, Bahr was being lavishly entertained in Mermaid Cove, having just ensured Fish-Man Island’s peace.

The crystal-clear seawater lapped halfway up the coral reefs, sunlight refracting through the water into shimmering rainbow patterns, making the entire cove sparkle like scattered diamonds. A few mermaid girls with vibrantly colored tails laughed and played around him—some offering chilled Sea Fruit Wine, others humming ancient Fish-Man Island melodies. Even the sound of waves crashing against the rocks seemed to accompany the lively scene.

When Nico Robin walked along the cove’s sandy shore, she could hear the laughter from afar.

Today, she wore a short, practical trench coat, her long hair loosely tied back. Her gaze swept over the merry crowd before she quietly asked a mermaid nearby who was arranging seashell ornaments, "Where’s Bahr?"

The mermaid girl smiled and pointed toward a cluster of reefs not far away. "Lord Bahr is over there. He was just playing in the water with everyone."

Robin followed the direction she indicated. As she neared the reefs, the voices faded, leaving only the gentle sound of waves brushing against the rocks.

She paused, then called out, "Boss?"

A lazy voice drifted from a corner of the reef, tinged with mild annoyance at the interruption.

Robin maneuvered around a few massive coral formations and, sure enough, found Bahr lounging on a smooth rock. His shirt collar was open, revealing traces of seawater glistening on his collarbone. One leg rested casually on the edge of the rock, his toes occasionally dipping into the water, sending tiny splashes flying.

And in the water at his feet, a mermaid with long brown hair was looking up at him, as if waiting to be fed…

Robin’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Her gaze lingered briefly on the mermaid before shifting back to Bahr. "Boss, you could at least try to be discreet."

While they were running themselves ragged for the Cross Guild, this man couldn’t be bothered to care, indulging in his own pleasures instead—she hadn’t hired a boss so much as adopted a live-in lord.

Bahr clearly wasn’t fazed by the complaint, lazily lifting an eyelid. "You need something?"

"There’s a matter that requires your decision." Robin stepped closer to the reef. The sea breeze tugged at the ribbon in her hair, and her tone grew more serious.

"Go on." Bahr watched the woman who always managed to pinpoint the heart of any issue, responding succinctly as his fingers idly traced the shells on the rock.

"It's easy to recruit people, but hard to sustain them." Robin's gaze swept over the bustling figures at the distant harbor, her tone carrying undeniable seriousness.

"An organization needs funds to operate. People need to eat, weapons must be equipped, ships require maintenance, ports need reinforcement... None of these come without cost."

She paused, emphasizing her words: "The Cross Guild has set a rule against plundering, but these daily expenses can't just materialize out of thin air."

"I did say we wouldn't rob civilians." Bahr suddenly chuckled, tilting his chin up with a sly glint in his eyes, his tone firm. "But I never said we wouldn't do any 'plundering.' The Cross Guild's targets are those corrupt nobles—robbing the rich to aid the poor. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment idea.

He had thought it through clearly these past few days. For an organization to stand firm, slogans alone weren't enough. Recruits couldn't just be fed—they needed good meals, good pay, and top-notch weapons.

The saying 'a single cannon shot costs ten thousand gold' wasn't a joke. Though he had a Golden Pillar, impressive as it looked, it was far from enough to fully expand their operations.

Otherwise, gathering a ragtag bunch would be worse than doing nothing.

Pirates thrived on plundering, but the Cross Guild was different.

Mutual aid was their creed, but practicality mattered too. If they wouldn't touch the livelihoods of common folk, then they'd target the nobles who exploited them—those whose warehouses overflowed with ill-gotten riches.

Taking such unjust wealth would not only fill the Guild's coffers and give their men something to strive for, but it also wouldn't break their rules.

The nobles' wealth was dirty to begin with. Robbing them would sustain their operations while also avenging those they oppressed. The logic was flawless.

In short, they'd rob the "right" rich to aid his "poor."

They couldn't rely on so-called "faith" alone—ideals on an empty stomach wouldn't last three days before falling apart.

Seeing Bahr's smug, confident expression, Robin suddenly realized this Boss, for all his casual demeanor, had already worked out every detail in his mind.

She nodded slightly, about to say, "It's a feasible plan, but nobles often have far-reaching connections—this could invite a lot of trouble," when she abruptly stopped.

This was a man who dared to kill a Celestial Dragon. What wouldn't he do? Dealing with so-called nobles was probably nothing to him.

"Then there's the issue of weapons," she shifted to another key point. "The government controls most weapon-making techniques and core materials, especially Sea Stone products. The black market prices are exorbitant, and fakes are common. Without proper weapons, even recruits won't amount to much."

Bahr clicked his tongue, leaning back against the coral reef with a frown. This was why he hadn't wanted to build an organization—trouble kept piling up.

"Weapons aren't a problem. I know a friend in the arms trade with plenty of connections."

"A friend?" Robin raised an eyebrow slightly, curiosity flickering behind her sunglasses. "I haven't heard of this."

Someone who dealt in arms and could procure Sea Stone was clearly no ordinary figure.

"Doflamingo," Bahr said offhandedly.

During the Summit War, Doflamingo had approached him, proposing to team up and create some "big commotion." At the time, he wasn’t interested in forming alliances, preferring to stay free and unrestrained. Still, he recognized the other man’s connections within the World Government and casually replied, "I’ll think about it."

Who would’ve thought it would actually come in handy now?

Come to think of it, in the original story, that guy had already made a fortune through arms dealing—illegal weapons, Sea Stone products—his supply channels were probably no worse than the Navy’s.

With their own side currently lacking weapons, who else could they turn to but him?

Robin’s expression darkened slightly. She hadn’t expected the boss to still have ties with Doflamingo.

After a moment of silence, she spoke up, "He is indeed a suitable candidate, but... Doflamingo’s methods have always been unpredictable. Working with him could carry significant risks."

"Risks?" Bahr scoffed, straightening up. "Since when has there ever been a deal without risks? As long as we’re strong enough, even if he wants to back out, he’ll have to think twice."

Robin nodded in agreement but reminded him, "Then Boss should arrange things as soon as possible."

"No problem. I’ll contact Doflamingo right now." Bahr brushed off the sand from his clothes, his tone decisive. "Hand me a Den Den Mushi."

Back during the Summit War, Doflamingo had given him a private Den Den Mushi number. Just in case, he had casually tossed it into his Space storage.

Getting in touch with Doflamingo would be a piece of cake.