The Finest Among Thugs

Under the blazing sun, Jogo walked along a road paved with gravel and seashells.

Crowds pressed past him on either side, while stalls lining the street displayed all manner of strange goods.

Smack!

After knocking away the seventh hand reaching for his wallet, he sighed.

He could not help recalling the captain's instructions from half an hour ago.

"I know you're in a hurry, but don't rush."

"The Blackhead has avoided docking whenever possible along the way, but if we want to keep sailing, we need to restock our supplies and repair the hull."

"And besides... you know how it is. The Acne Pirates are short on people right now, so I need to recruit some newcomers."

"You can look around. Honestly, Sunflower Island is pretty nice. Interesting things from all over the West Blue gather here. Whatever you want to buy, you can find it."

"Aren't you a historian? There are plenty of antique sellers here."

"Anyway, just come find me here again in three days."

Before leaving, the captain had chuckled strangely as he warned him not to go anywhere crowded, because there were rather a lot of thieves.

Nor should he go anywhere too deserted. There were many seawater-eroded caves around Dark Harbor, and he should be careful not to get robbed.

Finally, if he wanted a drink, he could find him at Wild Sunflower.

It was run by a brother of his who had taken an arrow to the knee.

Rather a lot of thieves, my ass...

Jogo grumbled inwardly.

They were like summer mosquitoes.

"Whatever. Three more days, huh?"

Though he wanted to enter the Grand Line sooner, he knew this wait was necessary.

"I'll treat it as a break."

"Besides, putting aside the thieves all over the place, this is actually a pretty nice place."

He looked around at the packed crowd, feeling a surge of emotion.

"Sure enough, everyone beyond the sea is an 'enemy'!"

He did not even dare imagine how many "enemies" he could defeat if he equipped Leaving the Nest and unleashed a burst of Conqueror's Haki—and how much his Conqueror's Haki could improve!

These past few days aboard the Blackhead, he had either been training or prowling around like he was hunting mice, searching for Acne Pirates to use Conqueror's Haki on.

He had practically become some sort of terrifying legend aboard the pirate ship.

Now that he thought about it, his mindset had really been too narrow.

How could the people on one ship compare to the people on an entire island?

Jogo wondered whether he should do something big.

"But not now. It has to be when I leave."

After knocking away the eighth ill-intentioned hand, he crouched beside a street stall and began picking through its wares.

"For now... I should relax properly."

These street-stall goods might have come from questionable sources, and some even still bore bloodstains, but there really were quite a few good things among them.

"This is an antique porcelain piece from the Flower Country?"

"Hiss—there were actually totem carvings in shapes like this?"

"This edition of coinage is five hundred years old, right? It might even help complete that old man's hypothesis..."

"Oh, a bracelet? The artificial aging is quite distinctive. I'll buy it for Robin to play with."

Looking around, Jogo did not see antiques. He saw paper after paper.

"Antique Enthusiast (White) - 98%."

"Once I write the papers, the progress on Historian (Blue) should rise too."

"If I can put together one paper on every island in the future, then when I return to Ohara, wouldn't I rule over old men and children alike?"

Shaking his head, Jogo continued wandering down the long street, occasionally snapping up a bargain. Before long, after turning this way and that, he wandered into a narrow path.

As he walked, he eventually arrived at a deserted dark cave.

The sounds of people faded away. Turbulent seawater rushed in from outside the cave, crashing against the cliff walls and breaking into white foam.

Jogo leaned over to look at the sheer cliff dozens of meters below and could not help sighing.

"No wonder he warned me not to wander around. This really is a perfect place for murder and robbery!"

"If someone happened to walk in here by accident and got their exit blocked, they'd really be in trouble."

He turned around and looked at the two leather-clad thugs blocking the way back.

"Don't you think I'm right?"

He might not know any counter-surveillance techniques, but these two were unprofessional to an absurd degree.

Who squatted beside him and stared at his face from both sides?

The Mohawk thug held a magazine in his hand and excitedly said to the thug beside him,

"It's him! It's that, that, that... how do you read these two characters?"

"It's Jogo, idiot!"

The Dagger thug nimbly spun the dagger in his hand, sizing Jogo up.

—He looked sturdy enough, but he had such a scholarly air. Sure enough, he was a historian.

In short, he was a weakling!

After confirming that Jogo gave off no dangerous aura, a malicious smile appeared on his face.

"You're in trouble now, Jogo!"

"If you come with us obediently, you'll suffer a little less!"

"That's right!" Mohawk put on a pair of knuckle dusters. "Jogo, was it?"

"If you resist, get ready to be beaten senseless!"

Jogo pointed at the two of them, hesitated as if he wanted to speak, stopped himself, then seemed about to speak again. In the end, he sighed, his eyes filled with pity for the illiterate.

Still, he patiently asked,

"You seem to have come specifically for me?"

"Why?"

That magazine was from two years ago. He had not expected to see it still being circulated.

"What do you mean, why?"

Mohawk swaggered over with a vicious grin.

"You historians offended the Capone Family. Did you think you'd still have it easy?"

Historians... the Capone Family...

"I see."

Understanding dawned on Jogo. He nodded and tossed his small bag of belongings aside.

"I understand."

He had originally thought nobody would recognize him.

That the Capone Family would not trace things back to him.

Yet he had not expected thugs to read such third-rate popular-science magazines.

"I really underestimated the world's illiterates. By the way, let me remind you..."

Jogo slowly rolled up his sleeves, flexed his wrists, and bounced lightly in place twice.

The next second, like an arrow released from a bow, he charged at Mohawk!

"So fast!"

The Dagger thug only had time to shout, "Watch out!"

Jogo had already appeared before Mohawk like a ghost.

His iron-claw fingers gripped Mohawk's skull tightly.

"My name is Jogo. Remember it?" A faint voice sounded by his ear.

Mohawk's face filled with horror. Just as he was about to react, he felt an immense force suddenly descend upon his head.

Jogo yanked downward with his palm.

At the same time, his flying knee drove upward!

Crack!

Something seemed to shatter.

Aah!!!

A miserable scream echoed through the cave.

At the same moment,

Whoosh!

A flash of cold light shot in from the side—a dagger aimed straight for Jogo's throat!

Jogo's expression did not change. Prepared for it, he stepped back, grabbed Mohawk in his hand, and casually used him as a shield.

Then, ignoring Mohawk's screams, he delivered a powerful front kick that sent him flying toward the direction the dagger had come from.

A startled cry sounded in the distance.

The Dagger thug scrambled to catch his companion. Before he could even rejoice, however, Mohawk's terrified warning rang in his ears: "Watch out!"

Watch out?

Watch out for what?

The Dagger thug raised his head in confusion, only for a gale to blast into his face—within the blink of an eye, that face, no longer remotely gentle, had rushed before him!

Dark eyes gleamed with icy light!

Yet the corners of Jogo's mouth curved into a faintly excited smile.

Hello!

Is this still the same person from before?!

As terror abruptly filled the Dagger thug's face,

Jogo's figure seemed to stretch from the speed. He braked on one foot, drew a deep breath, and pulled his body into an exaggerated bow.

He twisted his waist and threw a punch!

"Wait—"

Boom!!!

His fist sank into the thug's face!

Ripples spread across flesh and skin.

Blood and teeth flew.

The Dagger thug was launched into the air, spun two and a half times, then landed on the ground unconscious.

Wait for what? Take it up with my fist!

"Awesome!"

As though he had finally broken free of his restraints, Jogo tilted his head back and exhaled a long stream of hot breath through his uneven canine teeth.

For the past three years in Ohara, he had stopped short every day when sparring with the old men.

He was sick of stopping short.

"Sure enough, fighting with my fists feels different!"

Rolling his neck, he walked over to the dumbfounded Mohawk.

His blood was boiling with long-unfelt fervor.

He crooked a finger.

"Get up. Weren't you going to beat me senseless?"

"Keep going!"

Half an hour later, Jogo claimed Mohawk's knuckle dusters as spoils of war.

He tossed aside the dagger in his hand, wiped the blood from his own hands, and kicked the two corpses—now useless after being interrogated—into the waves below the cliff.

Against trash like this, he did not even need Conqueror's Haki.

Of course, there was no need to conserve it either.

Even mosquitoes had meat on them. These two had already been recorded in Leaving the Nest's performance tally.

Jogo straightened his clothes and tied the small bag back around his waist.

Standing at the cliff's edge, he toyed with a dog-head Velcro patch in his hand, deep in thought.

"The Capone Family issued orders to deal with historians?"

"That isn't surprising."

"Was finding me merely an accident?"

"Unfortunately, these two were only local thugs. They didn't know the Capone Family's specific plans... Forget it. I'll trust the old man."

Ohara had been in the West Blue for so many years.

He did not think the Capone Family would suddenly lose its mind and destroy Ohara over a mere Chest Hair Pirates crew.

"Also, I need to be more careful myself. I didn't expect Capone Bege to be on this island."

"Ah, fame really isn't a good thing~"

After thinking for a while, he shook his head.

Just as he was about to throw the Velcro patch off the cliff and destroy the last piece of evidence, a sharp shout came from behind him.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Jogo turned around.

At the cave entrance stood several heavily tattooed men with thick arms and vicious faces, though he had no idea when they had appeared.

Judging by the dog-head Velcro patches neatly affixed to their chests,

they were members of the Wild Dog Gang, just like those two earlier.

Jogo's brow gradually furrowed.

"Was this an accident too?"

Did the Wild Dog Gang have some kind of vendetta chain going on?

"What rotten luck..."

"Should I settle this with Conqueror's Haki?"

He looked past them, where more people were still rushing over.

With so many people down, others would definitely notice.

And he still had to stay here for three days...

Seeing that Jogo remained silent, the leading man was about to fly into a rage when he suddenly spotted the Velcro patch in Jogo's hand. Confused, he asked, "You... could you be the newcomer Dagger recruited today?"

Jogo stuck the Velcro patch to his chest and puffed out his chest. "Yes, boss!"

"Is that so..."

The man stroked his chin and scrutinized him with a frown for several seconds before suddenly saying:

"That's not right. Dagger clearly told me it was a Mohawk! With tattoos too, and...

No matter how I look at you, you seem like a decent guy who's been educated!!"

As soon as he said that, the Wild Dog Gang members immediately drew their weapons and glared at Jogo with unfriendly expressions.

Jogo's expression did not change.

"I felt joining a gang should be more formal, so I changed my hairstyle and washed off my tattoos. As for my temperament...

Sorry for making you laugh. This is what I originally looked like!"

[Haki Panel] entry switched.

"Flower-Flower Fruit (Gold)" → "Hoodlum (White)"

[Entry effect: Makes Conqueror's Haki emit the aura of a hoodlum]

Conqueror's Haki released: 1%

In the man's eyes, the utterly ordinary Jogo suddenly became striking.

Simply standing there, he naturally gave off the aura of a piece of social trash—dropping out as a child, accomplishing nothing, wandering the streets in his youth, stealing and cheating, then bullying the weak and fearing the strong in adulthood, utterly without principles.

That was the flavor!

The man's eyes lit up. He knew he had found the cream of the crop among hoodlums.

He hurriedly stepped forward, grabbed Jogo, and dragged him outside. "What's your name?"

"Qiao Yi!"

"Right, Qiao Yi. Where's Dagger? Forget it, never mind him. You'll take his place. Come with me, quickly."

"What's so urgent?"

"It's a good thing! Lord Gotti has summoned us for a meeting!"