Sky Island is a peculiar place; it is not a single, continuous continent, but rather a collection of disparate islands. They exist above the first half of the Grand Line, the New World of the second half, and potentially even above the four blues.
Thus, "Sky Island" refers not to one place, but to countless islands, each possessing imnse developnt value.
The Upper Yard currently resides above the first half of the Grand Line. If Aranea wanted to bring Robin all the way to Arderay, it would be incredibly ti-consuming, taking at least half a month. Even utilizing Kuma’s abilities, it would still take at least a week.
Based on the intelligence provided by Robin, the breakthrough for Pluton lies in Water 7. To save ti, Alucard didn’t bother having Aranea bring Robin back to the New World for an audience. Investigating directly in the City of Water was the most efficient path.
"Pluton, one of the three Ancient Weapons? Now that is interesting."
Upon hearing the news, Dr. Vegapunk stroked his chin. "If it’s Nico Robin of Ohara providing the lead, the credibility of this intel is indeed very high."
Seeing Alucard descend from his throne on the dais, Dr. Vegapunk remarked with interest, "Oh? Is the Captain stepping out personally?"
"I cannot simply sit by and watch the Governnt’s power grow. It’s ti I got a little serious myself."
Alucard left the castle, preparing to depart. He had long maintained a playful, ga-like attitude toward most affairs, but after witnessing the sheer power of the Governnt’s "National Treasure," he felt it was ti to commit to a task with gravity. And first on the agenda was crushing the World Governnt.
"To think the Captain actually knows the aning of ’serious.’ Truly surprising," Dr. Vegapunk mused. After Alucard’s departure, he returned to his laboratory, flanked by a crowd of researchers. "I can’t fall behind, either. Research material like the Celestial Dragons is hard to co by, after all."
...
It was currently dusk. As one of the world’s premier trading hubs, the twilight scenery of Water 7 was undeniably beautiful. Unfortunately, tonight was not a night for sightseeing.
As the President of the Galley-La Company, the World Governnt’s preferred shipbuilders, Iceburg had finally finished a streak of overti. He slumped unceremoniously into his office chair, stretching and yawning as he spoke to his secretary nearby. "Kalifa, get a glass of fresh-squeezed juice."
The young woman, dressed in professional office attire, adjusted her glasses with a finger. Holding a stack of docunts, she replied flatly, "Iceburg-san, please watch your words. That is sexual harassnt."
Ignoring Iceburg’s dark expression, Kalifa continued, "Also, please rember that your break ti is only thirty minutes. After that, there are twenty-seven specialized warships requested by the Governnt awaiting your urgent supervision."
"Honestly," Iceburg groaned, "what is the World Governnt going crazy for lately? Building so many warships all at once?"
Because the losses from the conflict between the Sky Island and the Pacifistas are too severe, Kalifa thought to herself. She could not, of course, say that out loud.
"Awwwnng—"
Iceburg let out another yawn. "Whatever. I’ll deal with it after a nap. It’s a pain in the neck."
As Iceburg stood up to leave the office, he suddenly noticed that the sunset glow, which should have been streaming in from behind him, had vanished.
Turning around, Iceburg and Kalifa discovered that the sunset scenery had been replaced by a thick, eye-shielding fog.
"Fog? What’s going on?" Iceburg muttered. He had seen fog roll in during the day, but who had ever heard of a sudden fog at dusk?
"You are Iceburg-san, the top apprentice of the world’s greatest shipwright, Tom, correct?"
A female voice suddenly snapped Iceburg and Kalifa back to reality.
They spun around to find two won who had sohow appeared inside the office without notice.
"Aranea Highwind! And Nico Robin!"
Kalifa’s face paled. She almost blurted out their nas, her mind racing: How can these two be together?
"Who are you people? I don’t know you. Get out, now," Iceburg said, sticking a finger in his nostril and acting the fool.
"Playing dumb won’t work," Aranea replied. "Explaining things isn’t my style, it’s too long-winded and a total drag. Just hand over the blueprints for Pluton so we can finish the job and go ho."
Next to Iceburg, Kalifa’s expression turned even grimr. Their CP9 unit had been undercover at Iceburg’s side for years under Governnt orders without finding a single useful lead. These people from the Immortal Pirates were bold enough to just walk in and ask for it. Weren’t they afraid of overreaching?
Iceburg’s face flickered with panic, but he continued to play dumb. "I don’t know anything about blueprints. Get out, I’m going ho to sleep."
"Really now..." Aranea sighed. "I won’t do anything to you. You’re an important figure; can’t kill you, can’t hit you. But the Captain is on his way. He can make you talk."
Aranea eyed the sofa in the office and slumped into it lazily. "Whether you hand over the blueprints now and let leave, or wait for the Captain to arrive and have things get... unpleasant... the choice is entirely in your hands, Iceburg-san."
At the ntion of the word "Captain," cold sweat dripped from the faces of all three people present.
Iceburg was agonizing internally. He recognized Aranea and knew exactly who her "Captain" was. If that man arrived, would there ever be another peaceful day in Water 7?
For a mont, he was at a complete loss.
"Little secretary, get a cold drink. I’m exhausted from the trip," Aranea said, fanning her face with her hand as she called out to Kalifa.
Kalifa exchanged a look with Iceburg and quickly left the office.
Iceburg assud she was going for the Marines; in reality, Kalifa was rushing to contact her fellow undercover agents within Galley-La to discuss a counterstrategy.
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