Chapter 78 Lawless Zone

Smoker parted ways with Zephyr but didn't head straight back to the base. Instead, he changed his outfit and made his way to Island 16.

Although Islands 16 and 43 seemed far apart by name, they were separated only by a narrow waterway. Yet, despite their proximity, the two islands were like entirely different worlds.

Island 43, a tourist destination, boasted clean streets, bustling crowds of merchants and tourists, and rows of shops, restaurants, cafés, and bars. The air was filled with cheerful chatter and the sound of commerce. It painted a picture of prosperity and order.

Although pirates occasionally crept in, Smoker had stationed Gasparade here to keep them in check. While Gasparade might seem insignificant before Smoker, he was more than enough to strike fear into most pirates. In the first half of the Grand Line, those with Haki were rarer than Logia Devil Fruit users.

In stark contrast, Island 16 was chaos incarnate.

Once the most lawless island of the Sabaody Archipelago, it had few residents to begin with, and they were frequently harassed by pirates. When Smoker arrived, he evacuated the remaining civilians and merchants, leaving the island entirely to the pirates. It became a pilot project for his island relocation plan.

Smoker quietly landed on Island 16, avoiding attention as he wandered through its streets. The island lived up to its reputation as an outlaw haven. Within a single block, he witnessed two brawls escalate into knife and gunfights.

In a dark alley, he caught a glimpse of someone lying in a pool of blood. Yet, the people around remained indifferent, continuing to eat, drink, and converse as if nothing had happened.

"What a bunch of desperados," Smoker thought, unfazed, as he walked on.

After all, there were no innocent civilians left here. Anyone on Island 16 now was either a pirate or part of the underworld. Even shopkeepers were hardened individuals who valued money over their lives.

Once, Smoker had seen drunken pirates enter a store. Moments later, the sounds of screams came from inside. Shortly after, the shopkeeper emerged, bloodied, and hung up a "Closed" sign before locking the door. When the shopkeeper noticed Smoker observing him, he merely gave a knowing smile.

Smoker didn't care about the island's state. As long as civilians weren't affected, he didn't mind the chaos. In fact, he sometimes fueled it by selling defective weapons and ammunition to unsuspecting pirates.

He avoided the fights and headed to a small tavern tucked into a quiet corner. The building looked more like an abandoned shack than a business. Its paint was peeling, windows cracked, and steps littered with dust and debris. Only the sign that read "Tavern" gave away its purpose.

Smoker pushed open the creaky door. Inside, a few tables and chairs were scattered about, and the bar held an assortment of dubious-looking bottles. There wasn't a single customer in sight, just an old man with a white beard reading a newspaper.

Despite Smoker's noisy entrance, the old man didn't even glance up.

Smoker approached the bar, arranging three glasses into a triangular formation. At that, the old man finally looked up, hurried to the door, checked the surroundings, and hung a "Closed" sign before shutting it.

He returned to the bar and pushed the liquor shelf aside, revealing a dark passage.

"Let's go," he said, lighting a candle and leading Smoker into the hidden corridor.

The passage extended a considerable distance before opening into a spacious and comfortable underground room, complete with sofas and a well-stocked bar.

Smoker dropped onto a sofa.

"Pab, you're as cautious as ever. Still tiptoeing around everything, huh?"

The old man removed his beard and wig, revealing a handsome middle-aged face.

"Thanks to you leaving me here! If I weren't careful, the pirates would've killed me by now."

"Careful?" Smoker smirked. "What about the times you sneakily captured pirates for their bounties? Not so careful then, were you?"

Pab froze, then quickly denied it. "What are you talking about? I'd never do such a thing. Don't slander me, Commodore!"

"Denying it? Want me to jog your memory? One-Eyed Snake Jinnon, Skullbreaker Shawn—"

"Stop! Stop!" Pab hastily tried to cover Smoker's mouth. "Commodore—no, godfather! I was just making some side money. No need to report me to the disciplinary squad!"

Smoker pushed Pab's grimy hands away, shaking his head.

"I don't care about your side hustles. Just make sure you handle the real business properly."

Relieved, Pab laughed nervously. "The main business is going smoothly, as always."

He opened a hidden compartment in the wall and pulled out a report.

"Everything's just as you predicted. Without the Navy present, the pirates have been too busy fighting each other over territory to cause trouble elsewhere. Pirate-related crimes have dropped by 40%."

Smoker reviewed the report and nodded in satisfaction.

"And that's with some pirates still slipping through the cracks. Once we fully isolate them in the lawless zone, the crime rate will drop even further."

He knew this report would strengthen his case for the relocation plan with Navy Headquarters, easing the burden on Zephyr, who always supported him.

"Good work," Smoker said, pocketing the report. "I've already taken care of the bounty issue for you. Just be more discreet next time."

Pab grinned sheepishly and didn't argue.

"What about the intel network?" Smoker asked. "Do we have full coverage of the lawless zone?"

Pab shook his head.

"We've set up plenty of outposts in bars, inns, and warehouses, so the coverage is there. But manpower is the issue. Most outposts have only one or two agents, and with the need to stay undercover while gathering intel, the efficiency is low."

Smoker sighed inwardly. He knew establishing the network before relocating civilians wasn't ideal, but it was necessary. Pirates weren't fools. If the intel network was set up after the relocation, the risk of exposure would skyrocket.

He patted Pab on the back. "Just keep at it. We'll manage."

Smoker reassured his contact. "You've worked hard. Headquarters has approved our request for reinforcements. New recruits will be assigned to the branch soon. Hang in there just a little longer!"

Pabu didn't say a word, but instead gave a firm salute.

After chatting for a while, Smoker prepared to leave. Pabu quickly disguised himself again, flawlessly seeing him off.

As Smoker walked away, his mind raced.

Intelligence...

To precisely capture pirates and slave traffickers, relying solely on the Navy's intelligence network isn't enough.

Smoker wasn't planning to eliminate pirates indiscriminately. Doing so would only raise alarms. Instead, his strategy was to target valuable ones—those with bounties or Devil Fruit powers.

Bars are the best hubs for pirate information, Smoker thought.

Suddenly, an idea struck him like lightning.

Of course!

He recalled a certain information broker: the former Amazon Lily empress, the previous captain of the Kuja Pirates, and now the owner of the "Bamboo Shoot Bar"—Shakuyaku.

When Luffy arrived at the Sabaody Archipelago, she immediately knew the whereabouts of all eleven Supernovas. Her precise and timely intelligence was exactly what Smoker needed.

But enlisting her help wouldn't be easy.

Though Shakuyaku had never displayed her combat abilities, her connections were fearsome. Fire Fist Ace and Boa Hancock—one a former Warlord of the Sea with a bounty in the billions, the other a high-ranking member of the infamous Rocks Pirates—were prime examples.

This alone suggested that Shakuyaku was at least as powerful as a Warlord, with formidable Haki.

And then there was Silvers Rayleigh, the "Dark King" himself, who frequented her bar. A master of all three types of Haki and a swordsman without a Devil Fruit, he was more than a match for Smoker at his current level.

Taking on Rayleigh directly would be foolish, especially since even the Navy's top brass avoided provoking him.

If even Kizaru, Garp, and Akainu steer clear of him, I'd be insane to make a move now, Smoker reasoned.

Lost in thought, he wandered into a deserted alleyway.

Hmm? Something feels off.

He sensed multiple weak presences around him.

Suddenly, a gruff voice bellowed, "Stop right there!"

Dozens of armed men emerged, surrounding Smoker with menacing grins.

Smoker looked unimpressed. "Gentlemen, what's this about? I don't have any money on me."

He gestured at his simple outfit—T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops.

A tall, lanky pirate with sharp claws, red fur, and a bushy tail stepped forward.

"So, you're not just any wanderer," the pirate sneered. "You're Rear Admiral Smoker!"

Smoker raised an eyebrow. "You know me?"

The pirate grinned wickedly. "I'm Red Reaper, captain of the Jackal Pirates! I ate the Dog-Dog Fruit, Model: Red Jackal. Your disguise might fool others, but my nose doesn't miss a thing! You captured my first mate—his scent's all over you!"

Smoker scratched his arm, sniffing curiously. "Really? I don't smell anything."

The pirate's grin widened. "I'm not here for revenge. I'm here for your head—it's worth a fortune!"

Smoker glanced at the gathering mob. "Well, I was hoping for some downtime, but..."

His eyes darkened. "Black Vortex!"

The pirates barely had time to react before chaos erupted. Screams filled the alley, then fell eerily silent.

Smoker emerged unscathed, dragging a large sack behind him.

He stopped at a nearby weapon shop. The shrewd shopkeeper's eyes lit up as Smoker approached.

"Ah, my esteemed customer! What treasures do you bring me today?"

Smoker dropped the sack onto the counter. "Flintlock rifles—25 pieces. Pistols—37. Swords—17. And some assorted odds and ends. What'll you give me?"

The shopkeeper inspected the contents with practiced precision. "Hmm... 1.18 million berries. Does that sound fair?"

Smoker nodded without bargaining. "Gold coins."

After the transaction, Smoker hefted the weighty bag of coins, a satisfied smile on his face.

Pirates... They're walking treasure chests.