Chapter 170: Twin Island

Twelve days later.

As the ship's navigation supplies were about to run out, the silhouette of an island finally appeared before the group.

"Finally, we're here."

Maude let out a weary sigh.

In just thirteen days, they had braved enormous whirlpools, hailstones as large as Bailey, and waterspouts wrapped in lightning.

Each ordeal brought them to the brink of disaster. Thankfully, Lafitte's exceptional skills and vast experience as a navigator kept them afloat. Without him, the consequences would have been unthinkable.

The perilous but ultimately safe journey underscored for Maude the critical importance of having a skilled navigator.

"I need a drink," groaned Bailey, the perpetually drunkard, as he slumped weakly over the ship's bow.

Although the food on board remained sufficient, they had run out of alcohol several days ago, much to Bailey's despair.

"We're almost there. Bear with it," Maude said, glancing at the despondent Bailey.

Nearby, Gaya peered curiously at the outline of the Twin Island in the distance.

Lafitte stayed focused, monitoring the wind and currents even as they approached their destination. He was not one to let his guard down.

As they drew closer, the group gradually discerned the unique structure of the Twin Island.

True to its name, the island consisted of two landmasses of identical size and topography, separated by a narrow channel.

On the left was the Spring Island, bathed in warmth and blossoms. On the right lay the Winter Island, blanketed in pristine snow. A stream flowed steadily between the two islands.

At the center of the channel stood an enormous tree, its massive roots resembling a dragon's body, stretching out to anchor themselves into the rocky shores of both islands. This supported the colossal trunk that spanned the gap.

Interestingly, the tree was affected by the contrasting climates of the two islands.

The left side, facing Spring Island, boasted a lush canopy, while the right side, toward Winter Island, was bare, with only stark branches remaining.

What was even more striking was the enormous tunnel carved into the tree's trunk near its base, forming a natural bridge connecting the two islands.

From the ship's vantage point, the tunnel was not visible, but the spectacle of the tree was awe-inspiring.

"What a magical island," Gaya murmured, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scene.

The boundary between spring and winter was starkly defined by the mere 500-meter distance between the two islands, with the towering tree caught in the middle.

Even Lafitte and Jim, seasoned travelers, were captivated by the extraordinary sight.

Maude, too, found the Twin Island fascinating, especially the imposing tree that stood between them.

"Do you think they call it the Yin-Yang Tree?" he quipped, offering a cheeky guess.

"???"

The others turned to him silently.

The awe-inspiring atmosphere was somewhat marred by the sheer absurdity of Maude's suggestion.

Unbothered by their stares, Maude scrutinized the Twin Island, a thought suddenly surfacing in his mind.

"Doesn't it look like two lungs connected to a trachea?"

"..."

Gaya, Lafitte, and Jim were at a loss for words.

Even Bailey, who had been lying idly at the bow, turned to look at them, his expression serious. "I've seen lungs before. Now that the boss mentions it..."

"Shut it," Gaya snapped.

"Got it!" Bailey quickly turned back around, resuming his defeated posture.

The Twin Island were a rare twin-island formation. Locals called the left island Spring Island and the right Winter Island.

Given the warmth and bloom of Spring Island, most people avoided the icy chill of Winter Island.

Naturally, Maude and his crew chose to head toward Spring Island, steering the mast ship in that direction.

Spring Island's shoreline was dotted with natural docking spots, where a variety of vessels were moored.

From a distance, the shore of Winter Island appeared barren, with no ships in sight.

On a high slope overlooking Spring Island's harbor, a group of about fifty armed men stood, their weapons glinting menacingly.

"Newcomers," one man sneered, eyeing the mast ship like a prize waiting to be claimed.

"Emmy, check their background."

"On it!"

A short man named Emmo pulled out a thick stack of bounty posters from his bag.

Unlike standard bounty posters, these had hand-drawn pirate flags on them.

Squinting at the mast ship's crossed-blades pirate flag, Emmo flipped through the stack, searching for a match.

He worked quickly but found nothing resembling the flag on the posters.

"Nothing."

Emmo turned to the leader of the group.

"Figures. No bounty poster means they're just a bunch of rookie pirates who got lucky," the leader sneered in disappointment. Still, small prey was better than none.

Turning to his crew, he barked, "What are you all waiting for? Get the guns ready!"

The men scrambled to comply, setting their sights on the approaching ship.

The leader scowled internally. Useless fools.

To men like him, preying on fresh-faced pirate crews was the quickest way to thrive.

The Twin Island were the first stop along this route, making them a magnet for fledgling pirate crews—and opportunistic predators.

Such groups typically fell into one of three categories:

One, Fellow pirates.

Two, Bounty hunters.

And three, Slave traders targeting pirates.

This group was of the first kind.

They, too, had once dreamed of conquering the Grand Line, only to have their courage shattered within fifteen days between Twin Cape and here.

Unable to face the next challenge, they settled on Spring Island, preying on rookie crews to sustain their debauchery.

As the mast ship sailed into range, the leader grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with murderous intent.

Just then, another group appeared in the distance, led by a man with striking red hair.

"Boss, Turkey's crew is here."

"Damn that Turkey! He's after my prey again. No matter. Whoever grabs it first gets it. No one breaks that rule," the leader growled.

"Fire as soon as they're in range!"

"Yes, sir!"

Emmo, however, stared intently at the figures on the ship's deck.

When he recognized Maude's face, his pupils contracted sharply, and the blood drained from his face.

"Boss, wait! Don't—"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The pirates fired eagerly, cutting off Emmo mid-sentence.

"It's over," Emmo whispered, collapsing to the ground.

The leader furrowed his brows as he turned to Emmo and asked, "What's wrong?"

Emmo, pale and shaken, stammered, "Th-that ship... It's... it's Bacardi Maude's ship!!!"

The mention of that familiar name caused the leader's body to tremble violently.

"W-what did you just say?!"

Enraged, the leader grabbed Emmo by the collar, his bloodshot eyes glaring as he roared, "Are you blind?! Where were your eyes?!"

Emmo's face was ashen.

How the hell could he have expected a notorious pirate with a bounty exceeding 100 million berries to be sailing such a ramshackle ship?

And to make matters worse, the Marines hadn't even updated the name of Maude's pirate crew, let alone recorded this seemingly random pirate flag.

Were they playing some kind of sick joke?

The gunfire ringing out around them came to an abrupt halt.

The group of pirates stared wide-eyed as Maude stepped through the air toward them with calculated precision.

"What a unique welcome party."

Maude descended from the sky, landing gracefully at the edge of the slope, facing the group of stunned and speechless pirates.

Not far away—

The group of scavengers, led by a man known as Turkey, froze mid-step, their plans to swoop in and snatch the loot immediately abandoned.

"Damn it, lucky for me I was late."

Hearing Emmo's panicked shout, Turkey couldn't help but curse aloud before abruptly turning on his heels to flee.

This was a pirate with a bounty exceeding 100 million berries.

With their scrawny crew, they'd be nothing more than crumbs stuck between his teeth.

"That's the kid with a 100-million-berry bounty? Bacardi Maude? Damn, he really is that young."

"A guy daring enough to go after royal families during the Reverie... he's got to be hardcore."

"Looks like those idiots from Dior's crew are about to meet their end."

Even as Turkey cursed, his face betrayed a hint of fear.

Now that he thought about it, when was the last time they'd come across a pirate with a bounty of over 100 million berries?

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