The New World, the Flying Pirates.
The Flying Lion hovered ten thousand meters in the air, clouds flowing beneath its hull like a silver ocean.
On deck, the officers of the Flying Pirates had gathered, the atmosphere heavy and oppressive.
Golden Lion Shiki sat in his gold-inlaid captain's chair.
His golden mane whipped wildly in the wind, and the savage scar across his chest looked particularly glaring in the sunlight.
"The pace you lot are moving at..." His gaze swept over every officer present, his brow gradually furrowing.
"Wait..." Golden Lion's voice was low. Looking at the empty spot among the people below him, he asked in puzzlement, "Where's Davy?"
At Golden Lion's question, the officers exchanged glances. None dared answer.
After all, the Flying Pirates weren't a family like Whitebeard's crew, nor were they companions like Roger's... theirs was a true hierarchy of superiors and subordinates.
Finally, First Division Commander Galvin forced himself to step forward and said gravely, "Admiral, Davy... has been out of contact for several dozen days."
"Out of contact?" Golden Lion's pupils abruptly contracted.
He took a deep drag on the cigar dangling from his mouth and crushed his wineglass in his hand, red wine dripping between his fingers.
"You mean... my Third Division Commander just vanished without a trace?
And... you worthless bastards don't have a single scrap of information?!"
The air on deck seemed to freeze. The officers lowered their heads, not daring to meet Golden Lion's eyes.
"Admiral." The Second Division Commander wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and spoke cautiously.
"The last time Davy contacted us, he said he'd found a promising place in the New World.
He was planning to capture some slaves of unusual races and sell them at the Sabaody Archipelago... but we haven't heard from him