The Freeza, without Kuzan and the others knowing, suddenly changed direction and headed for Cart Island, designated number three.
Whether this turn was a stroke of luck for Kōta and his crew, or for Kuzan and theirs, was unclear.
Perhaps it was fortunate for both sides.
Regardless of which party was stronger, this avoidance of encounter would allow both to live for a considerable time.
However, a pirate crew already present on Cart Island was not so fortunate.
Cart Island.
A small island exclusively for shipbuilding.
It lay nestled between several larger islands, so these larger islands, when in need of shipbuilding, would come here.
Alabasta was among these larger islands.
The entire island, when viewed from high above, resembled a giant clock, hence its other name, "Clock Island."
This was because upstream of Clock Island, the sea was home to a vast territory of "Ironhead Fish."
"Ironhead Fish," as the name suggested, were fish with very hard heads.
Of course, that was a jest.
These fish possessed extremely hard skulls and were ferocious. Their favorite activity was to ram their heads into the hulls of passing ships, and they could not be driven away.
Only when a ship sailed out of their territory would they cease their ramming and return to their domain to seek other vessels.
Every year, countless ships were damaged by these creatures, and many less sturdy vessels were permanently lost within their territory.
Thus, these creatures earned the moniker "Ironhead Fish."
It was precisely because of this that Cart Island evolved from a shipbuilding island into a special island that integrated both shipbuilding and repair. It housed not only several large shipyards but also countless smaller repair docks.
An immeasurable number of ships traveled here daily; only a small fraction came for supplies, while the majority came for repairs.
In a dry dock within a repair facility at the six o'clock position of Cart Island, a magnificent and beautiful three-masted medium-sized sailing ship was docked.
The bow of the ship was adorned with a galloping white horse, and wings were depicted on its sides.
Seated on a chair by the ship's railing was a handsome man wearing a cowboy hat adorned with fur tassels and sporting shoulder-length, golden curly hair with bangs that covered his forehead.
He wore a white shirt on his upper body and dark blue capri pants on his lower body, with brown combat boots on his feet. A rapier with a black and white striped pattern was sheathed at his waist, and a white cape was draped over his back.
He sat with his legs spread wide, a newspaper resting on his lap. In his left hand, he held a rose, while with his right hand, he pinched a corner of the newspaper, looking down intently at its contents.
Since the man's head was bowed, his expression was hidden, making it impossible to know his mood.
However, from his constant mumbling, one could gather that his current mood was likely far from pleasant.
"Him again, him again, always him."
As he spoke, the hand holding the newspaper tightened involuntarily.
"Can't you just calm down? Why is all the news always about you!"
He glared at the face on the newspaper, which was even more handsome than his own, his eyes burning as if ready to erupt.
Over four months ago, he had been living peacefully in the Kingdom of Rummel. However, due to his alter ego, a constant stream of Marines had descended upon the Kingdom of Rummel, forcing him to take to the seas and become a pirate.
He did not dislike being a pirate, however. In fact, the immense "popularity" brought by his alter ego made him revel in it.
With his formidable strength and handsome looks, he had frequently graced the headlines shortly after setting sail, causing his popularity to soar, and his bounty to rise accordingly.
He reveled in this feeling of being observed by countless people. Yet, just a few days prior, someone he had heard countless people discuss even before setting sail had appeared.
As soon as this individual emerged, he swiftly stole the spotlight, occupying an entire page of the newspaper.
Moreover, the newspaper had dedicated a page-sized image to this person's portrait.
He, having sailed for so long, had only ever achieved an image one-sixteenth the size of this person's at best!
This filled him with jealousy towards this individual who had disappeared for four months only to suddenly reappear.
And anger.
Only by making this person disappear forever could he reclaim his headlines and the sense of vain satisfaction that came with immense popularity.
With this thought, he flung the newspaper aside, lifted his head, and addressed his subordinate standing by his side, "Is the ship not repaired yet?"
He was impatient to go and eliminate this youngster who had stolen his thunder.
He cared not if this person was truly as formidable as the newspaper claimed.
After all, newspapers tended to exaggerate.
No matter how powerful, they could not be more powerful than him.
How could a brat who had never been to the New World understand his might?
He was, after all, a native of the Kingdom of Pulchra in the New World. Although he had been exiled by the kingdom due to his handsome appearance, his knowledge and strength were beyond comparison with the brats in the first half of the Grand Line who didn't even know what Haki was!
Even if that fellow had awakened Haki, he couldn't believe he would be stronger.
After all, age was a factor, wasn't it?
In this world, newspapers did not detail a person's specific abilities; they only stated who defeated whom and then accompanied it with a few large portraits.
This was partly to avoid offending these powerful pirates, and partly to confuse the masses, encouraging more people to challenge those they believed they could defeat.
Only when the world was in chaos would there be more news, and bigger news, wouldn't there?
This was why many, even knowing an opponent's bounty was incredibly high, so high that they had to look up to them, still didn't consider them truly strong.
This was because they had never fought the individuals depicted on the newspaper and were unaware of their true strength.
As for himself, he had always been the strongest throughout his journey.
Even if not the absolute strongest, he would never fear anyone.
This illusion of being the strongest would only be dispelled when these individuals truly ventured into the New World and witnessed the peak powerhouses of this world, instilling in them a sense of awe.
For now, they were fearless. Be it the 1.5 billion bounty of Silver Hair, or even a Four Emperor, they would dare to clash with them in the first half of the Grand Line.
"Captain."
Seeing the man's gaze, the subordinate instinctively straightened up and said, "It's repaired. We can set sail immediately."
They were supposed to change course for Alabasta the day before, but when they reached the territory of the Ironhead Fish, the ship's hull was damaged by several large holes.
Out of necessity, they had to come here to repair the ship, as it was the closest island to the Ironhead Fish territory.
If they hadn't come here, they might have sunk before reaching any other island.
"Good."
The man stood up abruptly, his left hand resting on the hilt of his rapier. Facing the sea, he raised his head.
His gaze seemed to pierce through the ship's cabin above, looking towards Alabasta, his killing intent radiating outward.
"Don't you dare go too fast! Wait for me, wait for me, wait for me to take your head."
He suppressed his killing intent and patted the cold-sweating subordinate's shoulder.
"What are you standing around for? Tell everyone to get on board!"
"Yes!"
The subordinate shivered and quickly turned to call their other companions.
These individuals were mere subordinates whom the man had casually recruited over the past four months; strictly speaking, they were not his crewmates.
His only crewmate at this moment was the snow-white steed standing proudly beside the chair, exuding an air of arrogance.
Seeing his subordinates board the ship and lower the gangplank, the man turned, placed his hands on the white horse's back, one foot on the saddle, and then mounted the animal.
"Let's go, 'Faruru'."
Faruru, the name of this white horse, was a white horse gifted to him on his birthday in his youth. It had been by his side ever since.
It could be said that this white horse was the person closest to him in this world, his best companion.
Therefore, even his epithet bore the mark of this white horse.
"Neigh!!!"
The white horse lowered its head and whinnied, then began to walk towards the ship.
Once they were aboard, the ship immediately set into motion. In a short while, it sailed out of the dry dock, raised its sails, and embarked on an unknown journey.
After they departed, a shipwright approached to clear the chair and happened upon the newspaper on the ground. He placed the cigarette he held between his fingers in his mouth and bent down to pick it up.
And at the moment he picked it up, the image on the newspaper could be seen to be Kōta's portrait.
Kōta's portrait...
Well! He offered his condolences to this handsome man.
He had no idea that the ship he was now boarding might well be a vessel bound for hell.