News of the Op-Op Fruit

Egghead, residential district, inside a bedroom.

Dawn sat on the edge of the bed, his long golden hair draped casually over his shoulders and falling to his waist as he answered the Den Den Mushi.

In front of the bed, Baccarat knelt on the soft carpet with her head lowered, cleaning the sword he carried at his side.

On the other side, Monet stood before Dawn, carefully straightening the lapels of his black shirt, fastening every button, and folding his collar with meticulous precision.

Dawn enjoyed the two women's service as he listened to the words coming from the Den Den Mushi, a sharp gleam flashing in his eyes.

North Blue, Minion Island.

Snowflakes as large as mats drifted down from the lead-gray sky, blanketing the entire island in a thick coat of white.

Ruined buildings loomed faintly through the wind and snow, their broken walls and crumbling remains piled high with snow, like a forgotten icy graveyard.

Even in such atrocious weather, quite a few figures clad in felt cloaks and carrying muskets and longswords could still be seen patrolling through the ruins.

Their gazes were sharp and vigilant, constantly sweeping every corner without overlooking any suspicious movement. Their steps were orderly and their discipline strict; these people carried a militarized air ordinary pirates lacked.

In truth, they were not ordinary pirates.

Their leader, Diez Barrels, had once been an officer at Marine Headquarters. After leaving the Marines for some unknown reason, he used the training methods he had learned in the military to turn the desperados under his command into a semi-militarized force.

Though their numbers were small, no one in these waters dared underestimate them.

At the center of the ruins, several relatively intact buildings formed this pirate crew's temporary base.

Even with the wind and