"Self-detonation. A ruthless character, aren't you? Though I imagine you've done this sort of thing plenty of times before, to have developed that level of resolve."
As the smoke from the explosion cleared, Shirakawa emerged before the crowd, completely unscathed.
The blast, however, had given Tom and the others a terrible fright. It was far too sudden—it hadn't given them a single moment to prepare or react.
Just as Shirakawa finished speaking, the flesh and blood the man had scattered in the explosion began to slowly pull itself back together.
"Ugh. Disgusting," Shirakawa remarked with distaste.
This time, though, the recovery took considerably longer—nearly five full minutes before the one-eyed man's body was fully restored. But his appearance had deteriorated drastically compared to moments before.
His hair had gone stark white. Wrinkles covered his body. He was skin and bones. If he had looked like a man in his thirties moments ago, he now resembled someone in his eighties or nineties.
"How... how is this possible?"
Seeing Shirakawa utterly unharmed, the one-eyed man spoke in disbelief. This move had never failed him. Why had it proven useless here?
"Looks like the price of that regeneration is burning through your own life force."
Shirakawa had already grasped the principle behind the man's Devil Fruit ability. He had to admit, it was an extraordinarily powerful fruit—but it had ended up in the hands of the worst possible kind of person.
Shirakawa further suspected that this Devil Fruit could replenish life force through some method. Otherwise, if the one-eyed man had been pulling stunts like this regularly, he would have died long ago.
"Why? Why are you unharmed?"
The one-eyed man seemed to be spiraling into madness. All his trump cards had been revealed—so why did his opponent bear not a single wound?
"Why? An explosion of that caliber no longer qualifies as an attack against me. At best, it's a tickle."
"Damn you..."
The one-eyed man slammed his fist weakly against the ground. But from his utterly spent demeanor, Shirakawa could tell he was already a spent arrow at the end of its flight.
"In that case, you can go to hell with peace of mind."
Shirakawa grabbed him, hoisted him up, and hurled him with force toward the sea. A resounding splat echoed as he hit the water.
For an ordinary Devil Fruit user, falling into the sea meant certain death. Clearly, this one-eyed man fell squarely into the certain death category.
"Mr. Tom, I'll leave the cleanup to you. No problem, right?"
"No problem." Tom flashed Shirakawa an OK gesture.
"Good. I'll be off then. If you run into trouble, remember to give me a call."
With that, Shirakawa took to the sky and flew off once more. This time, however, his speed was slightly slower than before.
"Alright, Iceburg, Franky—toss these corpses into the sea to feed the fish."
"Yes, Master!" Franky answered Tom, then added, "Still, Master, Shirakawa really cut it close. If he'd been even a little later, Senior Brother and I would've lost our heads."
"Heh. The moment that one-eyed bastard showed up earlier, I had a bad feeling. I called Shirakawa and told him to come back. But then the one-eyed man left, so I told Shirakawa the danger had passed. Who could've guessed the cyclops would turn right back around? I had to call Shirakawa again and tell him to hurry back."
"So that's what happened. But if you're troubling Shirakawa like this, won't he hold a grudge?"
"How could he? He's the one asking me to build him a ship. Worst case, I'll just put a little extra care into his ship and call it even."
Still, Tom was only half-serious. To Tom, no matter the reason a ship was being built, he would always craft it to his highest satisfaction. He would never allow his work to bear any flaw.
Having departed Water Seven, Shirakawa's next destination was the Sabaody Archipelago. As the largest and most prosperous island in the pirate world, he believed this place was bound to hold what he was looking for.
It took him the better part of the day to fly from Water Seven to Sabaody. Every time he laid eyes on the archipelago's colossal mangroves, he couldn't help but marvel.
I wonder if using one of these trees for the keel would be as good as using Adam Wood.
The thought flickered through Shirakawa's mind and vanished just as quickly. If he actually destroyed one of these trees, it would inevitably draw the attention of the Marines and the World Government. And if the tree turned out to be unsuitable for a keel, the loss would far outweigh the gain.
After arriving at the Sabaody Archipelago, Shirakawa inquired at several auction houses in succession, but none had any information on the Treasure Tree Adam he was searching for.
Is this tree really that rare?
If there truly was none to be found, Shirakawa would have no choice but to settle for second best and use another type of wood as a substitute.
"Young sir, while I may not know, there is someone who most certainly will."
Just as Shirakawa finished asking at the very last auction house on the archipelago and was about to give up, the man seated across from him spoke. He was the current manager of this particular auction house.
"Oh? And who would that be?"
"Heh heh." Hearing Shirakawa's question, the man extended his hand and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.
The hint was obvious. How could Shirakawa not understand what he wanted?
Without hesitation, Shirakawa pulled a thick stack of bills from his coat and placed it into the man's waiting palm.
"Ha! Straightforward. I like your style, young sir."
"Quit stalling. Spit it out," Shirakawa said, impatience creeping into his voice.
"If we're talking about the most well-informed person in this world, there's only one name—Morgans, the president of the World Economy News Paper. If you can get him to help you, I'd wager within three days, you'll have the information you're after."
"Morgans, huh?" Shirakawa didn't know much about the man.
"And where can I find him?"
The moment Shirakawa finished speaking, the man made the exact same gesture as before.
"You really are greedy."
Shirakawa let out a helpless laugh.
"Heh, living in a place like this—how can anyone survive without money?"
At those words, Shirakawa knew he had no choice but to pay up again.
"Speak."
Shirakawa pulled out yet another stack of bills and placed it in the man's hand.
"It's simple. Morgans is an incorrigible gambler and frequently haunts the casinos here on the Sabaody Archipelago. So, if your luck holds, you might track him down fairly quickly."
"Much obliged."
"Eh, no need for thanks. You paid for it, after all."
With that, Shirakawa turned and left.
As the man watched Shirakawa's retreating figure, he sank into deep contemplation. Just a moment ago, a crooked thought had flickered through his mind.
But in that same instant, a terrifying premonition had seized him.
His premonitions were innate and had always been eerily accurate—a sixth sense, one could say. That sixth sense had helped him evade countless dangers over the years.
Looking at Shirakawa now, he could almost see an enormous, horrifying black shadow looming behind him—one that seemed capable of plunging a person straight into the abyss of despair.
/-\
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