Inside the rowdy tavern of Mock Town.
"Drink up! No going ho sober tonight!"
"You bastard, bring it on, let's drink!"
"Haha! Three fours, a leopard, I'm sweeping the pot!"
"Dammit! Lost again, for f***'s sake!"
"Captain, look at that chick, what a smoking body!"
The tavern roared with chaotic energy. At the center of the hall, two sultry won twirled provocatively around poles, while pirates of every sort, dozens of them, from various crews, filled the surrounding tables. So guzzled booze, others gambled, and more hooted at the dancers. It was absolute, unfiltered bedlam.
At the bar, five figures sat calmly, unbothered by the noise—Aeridar and his crewmates. They sipped their drinks while lazily watching the spectacle unfold.
"Hot dancers but no music? La!" Arlan scoffed as he eyed the girls mid-performance. He didn't seem to care that the bartender's face darkened in response.
"Just drink, will you? Stop yapping," Oliver muttered, annoyed, swirling a glass of premium rum. "You've been whining since we walked in. You're killing the vibe."
"Who asked you?" Arlan snapped, shooting him a glare. "What would a sword-swinging, hook-nosed blockhead like you know about anything? Just shut your damn mouth."
Oliver wasn't having it. "Hook-nosed, huh? Big talk from a loudmouth whose bounty's twenty million lower than mine, Blue Mop."
"You bastard, say that again!" Arlan flared up. The bounty comparison already pissed him off, now Oliver had to rub it in? If he could, he'd stomp his size 43 boot straight into Oliver's smug, size 41 face and crush that damn beak.
"Idiots, both of you." Aeridar sighed. A vein throbbed on his forehead. Without another word, he raised his fists and wham! wham! delivered two solid punches.
"Shut it."
Thud. Thud.
"Sūmimasen!" the two chorused, clutching the new lumps on their heads and blinking back tears.
Once the dust settled, Arlan turned back toward Aeridar.
"Captain, word is the top dog in this town's got a sixty million bounty, and he's a Devil Fruit user. Should we take him?"
"Let's watch a bit longer. We're not in the business of picking up just anyone," Aeridar mumbled through a sip.
Just then, the tavern door creaked open, and the mood shifted.
A group of broad-shouldered thugs strutted in. Each had unruly, long hair, ranging from afros to mohawks to tangled manes, and branded across their chests were skull tattoos with flowing hair. The second they entered, the tavern's volu dropped. Whispers filled the void. Fear glinted in many eyes.
"That's the Longhair Pirates."
"What the hell are they doing here?"
"These freaks always an trouble..."
The newcors sneered, clearly relishing the unease they caused. Without a word to anyone, they took seats in a corner, ordered a dozen bottles of rum and so food, and made themselves at ho.
Aeridar leaned toward the bartender, curiosity piqued.
"Hey, boss. These Longhair Pirates... are they really that tough?"
"Shh, keep it down!" the barkeep hissed, voice low and wary. His diamond-shaped face tensed. "You guys are new, so I'll let you in on sothing. The Longhair Pirates are the top dogs on Jaya Island. Over 800 n strong. Their captain, 'Demon Hair' Owen, has a 60 million bounty, and he's a feared Devil Fruit user. Ruthless as they co. On Jaya alone, he's killed hundreds."
He gave an involuntary shudder after saying it.
Arlan's eyes sparkled. "Sounds powerful."
"Tch. Not a swordsman, though," Oliver muttered with a scoff.
Aeridar stroked his chin, intrigued. "Judging by everyone's reaction, sounds like they're a real piece of work."
The barkeep nodded, speaking even softer. "Yeah, they've been terrorizing this place for over three years now. If any rookie crew shows up with sothing they want, they wipe them out and take everything. No rcy."
"Brazen bastards," Aeridar said, grinning.
"It gets worse," the barkeep added grimly. "Word is, they've got backing from one of the major pirates in the New World."
Aeridar's eyes lit up. "A New World pirate?! Who?"
"Rumor says it's the Demon Mask Pirates, the sa group that attacked those World Governnt ships recently. Their captain, Demon Mask Gutte, is a living nightmare."
Just the na made the bartender shiver again. Attacking governnt vessels? Sinking two Navy battleships? To n like him, Gutte was practically death incarnate.
"So they're working under that guy now? Demon Mask Gutte's subordinates, huh..." Aeridar muttered, understanding dawning.
It was Demon Mask Gutte's raid that caused Syrons' first assault fleet to retreat from Alabasta, scrapping their ambush of the Chris Pirates. That bought Aeridar enough breathing room to plan a one-on-one fight instead. Without that stroke of luck, he'd likely be rotting in Impel Down, not sitting here with a 300 million bounty on his head.
After all, that fleet, combined with Syrons' strength, was more than enough to crush Aeridar's crew of under 300.
So when Aeridar heard who had attacked those ships, he'd been very grateful to Demon Mask Gutte.
"That guy's got a 550 million bounty now. We're nowhere near that level," the bartender muttered, shaking his head in awe.
After the attack, the World Governnt raised Gutte's bounty from 480 million to 550 million. That put him on par with Ace, Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates and Fla-Fla Fruit user, who held that sa bounty.
Even Luffy, after defeating Donquixote Doflamingo, one of the Seven Warlords, was only worth 500 million. And at that ti, the numbers carried even more weight, 550 million now would rival the 600–700 million tier of future years.
The bartender leaned in suddenly, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"And get this... six days ago, over half their crew set out to sea. They only just got back two days ago... and no one knows what they were up to."
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