Three days later, on a small town within Goa Island, a group disembarked from a massive, black-and-red warship. Leading them was none other than one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, Lucifer Wilder!
After departing Barbaro Island, Wilder had set his sights on the next target from his list, and that individual was located right here on Goa Island.
Compared to the tranquil Barbaro Island, Goa Island was a bustling hub of activity. Commerce thrived here, and its population far exceeded that of typical islands in this sea. But everything has two sides. Goa Island's prosperity was built upon a foundation of darkness and chaos. It was, at least covertly, an island of outlaws.
Within the island's main town stood a well-known tavern named the Pirate House. Rumor had it that its owner was a pirate who had returned from the Grand Line. Wilder and his contingent headed straight for this establishment.
However, they failed to notice a group lingering at the docks, watching their retreating figures with suspicion.
"Big Bro, that guy… he kinda looks like the Warlord, Wilder…" one pirate with bright yellow hair muttered uncertainly, staring towards the direction where Wilder's group had disappeared.
"You think so too, huh…?" Beside him, a burly man with a brutish, fleshy face nodded slowly. A wide grin split his face, revealing oversized, blackened teeth. "Looks like it." His eyes, fixed on Wilder's distant form, began to burn with a feverish excitement. A cruel smile touched his lips. "A Warlord… Worthy enough to be my stepping stone, I suppose. Qiehahaha!" The harsh laugh died down, and the brutish pirate waved a hand. "Alright, lads! Follow them!"
"Yeah!"
At the Pirate House tavern, Wilder pushed open the doors and stepped inside. His tall figure momentarily blocked the sunlight streaming in from outside. He paused, silently scanning the interior before striding confidently forward.
The tavern wasn't small, and a wave of boisterous noise immediately washed over them. The sudden entrance of Wilder's group caused a brief lull in the din.
Some patrons turned their heads, their fierce faces marred by cold glints in their eyes. A variety of hostile gazes met Wilder's group – bloodthirsty, sneering, cruel, curious – but none were friendly. This was clearly a gathering place for pirates and other lawless elements.
If there was any friendliness to be found, perhaps it was in Wilder's own smile. He met the assessing stares from within the tavern with a warm grin, though the sharp intensity in his own eyes caused many to quickly avert their gaze.
In one corner, a group of men who had been observing Wilder exchanged shocked glances after looking away. Silently, they placed a stack of Belly on their table and walked out, attempting to appear nonchalant.
Wilder took a seat at the bar counter, ordered a drink, and began sipping it slowly. He appeared to be captivated by a mural painted on the wall behind the bar, but in reality, his invisible Observation Haki had already spread out, taking in every detail of the entire establishment.
After a second, a faint smirk touched Wilder's lips. He took another sip of the scarlet liquid in his glass. His Haki had already locked onto a figure huddled in the corner near the entrance – someone completely enveloped in a dark cloak, head bowed, drinking alone.
That was Wilder's target for this visit. However, he had no intention of acting just yet. The wine here, remarkably, suited his taste quite well, and he planned to enjoy it for a while longer. More importantly, the disgusting pests who had been following him should be arriving any moment now.
His eyes remained calm, unreadable, as he mentally counted the approaching footsteps outside.
Soon enough, a stout, massively obese figure burst through the tavern doors, followed closely by several menacing-looking pirates. The group swaggered in, scanned the room, and their eyes quickly fixed upon Wilder seated at the bar.
Finally here… In the corner, the cloaked figure slightly lifted their head, eyes hidden in shadow focusing intently on the obese pirate leader.
The tavern fell quiet for a moment before scattered conversations resumed hesitantly. Some patrons cast nervous, furtive glances towards the large newcomer and his crew.
"It's 'Fat Pig' Statta! Bounty: 80 million Belly!"
"And Statta's right hand! Jari Beta, the 'King of Delinquents'! He's a cruel bastard!"
"That's the Twin Tower Pirates! Notorious throughout the East Blue! Heard… the two leaders are brothers!"
"Brothers…? They look completely different in size and appearance!"
The murmuring in the bar gradually died down again as everyone's attention was drawn to Statta's movements.
"What's he planning? Looks like he's targeting the guy at the bar…" someone whispered, then fell silent like the rest.
The crowd watched quietly as Statta lumbered over, stopping directly behind Wilder. His enormous, blubbery frame, easily twice Wilder's height while seated, completely engulfed Wilder in shadow.
Nearby, Sacren frowned, instinctively tensing to intervene, but then he caught sight of Wilder's impassive expression and immediately halted his movement.
Inside the tavern, everyone—be they pirate, outlaw, or hidden bounty hunter—couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety for the man seated at the bar. Although the stranger looked imposing himself, and there was something vaguely familiar about him, almost no one believed he stood a chance. Statta was simply too massive! If Statta decided to attack, the man at the bar would undoubtedly suffer a gruesome fate.
"That guy's done for…" someone muttered, eyes fixed on the bar.
"No one Statta targets ever dies peacefully. They always suffer horrible torture first."
"Better pray for the poor bastard."
Just as these low whispers threatened to grow louder, Statta, still standing behind Wilder, suddenly shot a sharp glare across the room. The talking instantly ceased.
"Shut your damn mouths if you don't want to die!" A cruel, brutish smile emerged from the fleshy contours of Statta's face. He retracted his fierce gaze and looked back down at Wilder, who remained with his back to the room, quietly sipping his drink.
"Hey!" Statta suddenly boomed, his voice reverberating through the entire tavern. "You… You're Warlord Wilder, aren't you!"
It was as if everyone in the room had taken a gulp of water only to have someone instantly clamp down on their throats. Eyes widened collectively, jaws seemed to unhinge and drop slackly.
A deathly silence descended upon the Pirate House, so profound one could have heard a pin drop. In that moment, the only audible sound was the frantic, heavy thumping of dozens of hearts.
"Guh…" one pirate gasped, mouth wide open, seemingly choked, unable to utter a word.
Warlord of the Sea!
Wilder!
The two titles echoed like colossal bells tolling repeatedly inside everyone's minds!