In the rebel headquarters in Rainbase, the candlelight in the palace hall had not been extinguished for days.
The map on the long table was repeatedly smeared with vermilion ink, and the originally clear markings were now covered with arrows, crosses and circles, looking at first glance like a madman's graffiti.
However, upon closer inspection, each arrow points precisely to a weak point in Alubarna's defenses, and each cross corresponds to a blind spot in the enemy's firepower that has already been identified by rebel scouts.
Prince sat at the end of the long table, his hands folded on his knees, his fingertips tapping rhythmically on his knuckles.
His dark brown robe had ink stains on the cuffs, and the faint scar below his left eye appeared pale white in the candlelight.
He had just finished listening to Charles's final report on the organization of the siege forces, nodded slightly, and then looked up at both sides of the long table.
"The defenders of Katya did not die in vain."
His voice wasn't loud, but each word resonated in the quiet hall, like chess pieces falling on a chessboard.
"They told us at least one thing: the Uchiha has sided with Nefertari, and the enemy in this battle is not just the walls of Alubarna."
His gaze slowly swept from left to right, lingering for a moment on Dorovich's face.
"Everyone, bring out your most treasured possessions."
Dorovich propped himself up from the leather swivel chair, which emitted a sharp metallic groan as he rose. The gold chain, as thick as a little finger, swayed with his movement, clanging against the edge of the table.
His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed into slits, the light shining through them a kind of resolute determination born from being cornered.
"The Sand Ant Gang had been operating in Alabasta for twenty years—twenty years of territory, twenty years of business, twenty years of connections—and the Uchiha Trading Company devoured it all in just a few years."
He pulled the gold nail file from his pocket and slammed it on the table.
"Prince Highness Prince, let me be frank with you. The Sand Ant Gang can only offer ten siege cannons and five hundred muskets in the Rainbase Warehouse, with ample ammunition."
"All the brothers who can still wield a knife are at your command. I don't want territorial divisions after the war, nor do I want trade licenses. I have only one request."
He pointed his index finger toward Alubarna, the gold ring on his knuckle flashing in the candlelight. "Get the Uchiha Trading Company out of Alabasta, completely out."
Prince nodded slightly. "Your request aligns with my goal."
Dorovich put the nail file away, leaned back in his chair, and the gold chain on his belly jingled again.
He didn't speak again, but his silence itself was a statement; the Sand Ant Gang had staked everything on this gamble.
Fisher stood up from the left side of the long table.
His bald head gleamed with a dull, bluish-gray light in the candlelight.
He leaned on the barbed short spear, the end of which struck the sandstone floor with a dull thud.
He had done this spear-tapping motion countless times: when boasting in taverns, when receiving orders aboard Rocks's flagship, and even when he pierced the garrison commander with a spear at the western gate of Rainbase.
"But this time, the voice he spoke after he finished kowtowing was not as rough and unrestrained as usual."
"I quit."
Dorovich turned his head sharply to look at him, the fat piled on his neck jerking as he did so.
Charles stood beside the map, his expression unchanged, simply watching Fisher quietly, as if he were observing a tactical variable that he had already anticipated.
Fisher switched the lance from his right hand to his left and then back to his right. This action was meaningless; he was simply subconsciously buying himself time to formulate his words.
"I, Fisher, have been on the Grand Line for twenty years. I retired once because I didn't want to die at the hands of the Navy. This time, I'm back because Captain Rocks thinks highly of me, gave me a flag, and let me make some money in Alabasta."
"I thought I was here to make a quick buck, help a fallen prince fight his tyrannical Pops, seize a few cities, make a fortune, and then return to the New World to report back."
He slammed the short spear heavily on the ground, the iron ferrule at the end striking the sandstone floor and sending up a small shower of sparks.
"But I'm not here to die. Those are Uchiha, you know what Uchiha means?"
"Barlow, Roy, Mila alone wiped out several of our units, not to mention the Uchiha Security Force and that Marine Vice Admiral Damian!"
Prince listened quietly, without making any expression.
He simply stared at Fisher with his deep-set eyes, as if waiting for the other to finish speaking before firing his second shot.
"Mr. Fisher, we are allies. From the day you accepted Captain Rocks' orders and set foot on Alabasta, we have been in the same boat."
"I have no objection to you disembarking now."
He stood up, the hem of his robe trailing on the sandstone floor, and walked toward Fisher.
His tone remained calm, even gentler than when he was deploying tactics, as if he were soothing a frightened horse.
"Please come with me, let's talk alone."
Fisher's knuckles tightened around the short spear.
He looked into Prince's eyes; there was no murderous intent, no cold light, only a sincerity so genuine it sent chills down his spine.
He hesitated for two seconds, then nodded.
Prince walked first toward the side door of the hall, followed by Fisher leaning on his short spear. The side door closed, cutting off Dorovich and Charles's view of the hall.
Outside the side door is a small lounge, originally a small reception room in the Rainbase Palace, which was converted into Prince's temporary study after the rebels occupied it.
There was only one candlestick in the room, its flickering flame casting long shadows of the two people on the mottled wall.
Fisher walked to the center of the room, turned to face Prince, held his short spear horizontally in front of him, and got straight to the point.
"Little Prince, I don't want to beat around the bush with you. Even if you argue until the end, I'm not going to get involved in this mess. Captain Rocks' orders were to develop my power in the first half of the Grand Line, not to risk my life."
"You want to attack Alubarna? You want to go against the Uchiha Clan? Fine, go by yourself. I'll take my men and leave tonight. Let's part ways amicably."
Prince looked at him and remained silent for a moment.
His expression suddenly changed, like the change that occurs when a candle flame finally burns out its last wick and then naturally goes out.
A sincere smile, warm gaze, and soothing tone—all the things that were so pleasant and appropriate in the hall just moments before—vanished completely from his face in the blink of an eye, like a thin layer of wax melting under high heat, revealing the true material beneath.
Mr. Fisher.
His voice was still gentle, but the warmth within that gentleness had completely changed, transforming from a spring breeze into the icy chill of a blade against skin.
"You now have two choices. First, return to the hall, lead your mercenaries and pirates, and attack Alubarna with all your might. If you succeed, Captain Rocks will gain the support of Alabasta that he desires, and you will receive the reward he promised. Second—"
"You're going to die right here."
Fisher saw what was protruding from under Prince's robe, and his pupils contracted sharply.
"So you were..." Fisher's voice was squeezed out of his throat, hoarse and dry, every word trembling.
The veins on the back of his hand, which was gripping the spear, bulged, and his knuckles were clenched white, but his hand did not move, because his body was telling him that any slight movement could now trigger irreversible consequences.
Prince's expression changed again.
The warm, comfortable wax was applied back to his face, so quickly it was as if the previous scene had never happened.
He wrapped his robe tighter around himself, smiled at Fisher, and spoke in a gentle tone as always.
"In that case, let's all cheer each other on."
Fisher stood there, his chest heaving violently.
His lips moved several times, but in the end he only managed to squeeze out one word. "----Okay."
39