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Leaving Jessica's restaurant, Arthur walked from Saboland towards Grove 1—the lawless district.
This area was a melting pot of vice and villainy—World Government officials seeking illicit pleasures, pirates, human traffickers, underworld figures—all converging in this den of iniquity.
Slave shops, auction houses, pleasure districts—anything illegal could be found here.
With enough Belly, one could acquire almost anything: Devil Fruits, legendary swords, slaves—the Grand Line's black market offered it all.
The people here wore their ruthlessness like a badge of honor—their faces grim, their auras menacing.
——
Passing through Groves 10-19, Arthur reached Grove 6, located in the center of Sabaody—the location of the Giberson Family's storage warehouses.
The Gibersons, a respected and well-established family, had a reputation for security and discretion. Their warehouses were considered the safest in the New World, a haven for pirates and Marines alike seeking to store their valuables. They had a powerful security force, their influence extending throughout the archipelago.
Arthur, having done his research, wasn't concerned about Jessica's belongings. The Gibersons built their business on trust. Their reputation was more valuable than any treasure—they wouldn't risk it for a few Devil Fruits.
Grove 6 was a sprawling complex of metallic warehouses, bubble carts transporting goods, workers loading and unloading cargo.
Arthur approached, a worker greeting him with a practiced smile. He presented the multi-sided key and was immediately escorted to a warehouse on the edge of the complex. The key unlocked a secure vault inside.
Storing small items directly in a warehouse was impractical and drew unwanted attention. Jessica had opted for a vault within a warehouse—a more discreet option.
Arthur opened the vault, retrieving the Castle-Castle Fruit and the Door-Door Fruit. Beneath the fruits lay a letter.
The entire transaction had been smooth, effortless—almost too easy. He'd expected complications—the fruits being confiscated by the Marines, or Jessica destroying them—but they'd been returned without incident.
He was pleased.
His mission accomplished, he left the warehouse, opening Jessica's letter.
——
The letter described Jessica's guilt at being unable to help Arthur during the Sabaody ambush. She felt like a burden.
Unwilling to hold him back—she'd decided to leave the crew—temporarily.
She had joined the Marine's recruitment drive, hoping to train under Admiral Zephyr, to become stronger, to be worthy of sailing alongside him.
She'd written the letter after seeing the news of Arthur's escape. She had left days ago, likely already at the Marine training camp.
Arthur finished reading, a faint smile touching his lips. He was proud of her determination.
Weakness wasn't a sin. No one was born strong. But the courage to strive, to improve—that was what mattered. Effort, regardless of the outcome, left no room for regret.
"Anyone willing to put in the effort—isn't worthless." Arthur burned the letter, then looked up at the shimmering bubbles drifting through the sunlight.
Without trying—there was no chance of success. Only by taking that first step, by embracing the challenge, could one seize opportunity.
Only by climbing a mountain, step by agonizing step, could one reach the summit.
If he hadn't risked his life on the Knock Up Stream—he wouldn't have the Rumble-Rumble Fruit.
——
"Indeed. Effort, regardless of the outcome, leaves no regrets… Fancy meeting you here, Seabury D. Arthur."
A calm, elegant voice, mature and intelligent, echoed from behind him.
Arthur didn't need to turn around.
He had sensed her presence the moment he'd arrived on Sabaody. Nico Olvia and the three archaeologists were here too, their hushed conversations about the Poneglyphs easily overheard by Arthur's island-wide electromagnetic surveillance.
"You, too, Nico Olvia. I'm glad you're still alive." Arthur's voice was flat, his expression unreadable.
"We were prepared to die," one of the archaeologists—a tall, gaunt man with a long, flowing beard—said before Olvia could respond.
"Death isn't something to be proud of. There are no Poneglyphs on Sabaody, are there? What are you doing here? Trying to get yourselves killed?" Arthur narrowed his eyes.
"A meaningful death—that is something to be proud of," another archaeologist—a shorter, stockier man with a neatly trimmed beard and a wide-brimmed hat—retorted.
"There are no Poneglyphs on Sabaody," Olvia explained, interrupting their argument.
"But there's an auction later today. A journal detailing events from eight hundred years ago is on the list. That's why we're here."
"Good luck with that." Arthur turned to leave. He had no interest in their quest.
"Wait!" Olvia called out, stepping in front of him.
Arthur's smile vanished. "You're blocking my path. Have you considered the consequences?"
"Arthur, don't you want to know what the 'D' in your name stands for? Aren't you curious about the history the World Government is so desperately trying to hide? Why is everyone with the initial 'D' so extraordinary?"
"That pirate in the New World, Gold Roger—His real name is Gol D. Roger, isn't it? And Vice Admiral Garp! Vice Admiral Saul! Throughout history—every person with the initial 'D'—Marines, pirates, doctors, musicians, scientists—they all possess extraordinary talents!"
"Don't you want to know the truth?"
Olvia's voice was filled with a desperate urgency. She knew their journey was dangerous, but she wouldn't give up, not before uncovering the truth.
Olvia needed Arthur's help.
Arthur's gaze was cold, his voice filled with disdain. "Get out of my way. As long as I'm happy—I don't care if the world ends tomorrow." He couldn't be bothered with their obsession.
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