New World, a transfer island along one of the shipping routes.
The city buzzed with life, the streets packed with traffic and the noise of a crowd in constant motion. Shops lined both sides of the busy roads, their displays overflowing with all sorts of goods. Merchants hurried by, and in the shadowy alleys, curses were muttered under breath.
Ships from all over the world came and went at the harbor. Sailors fought over docking space, sails flapped like waves in the wind, and the air rang with shouting voices.
Zephyr, Sengoku, and Borsalino, dressed in civilian clothes, walked down the cobbled streets. All three wore hats and trench coats, their bodies and most of their faces concealed.
"Are you sure this is the right place, Sengoku?"
Zephyr scanned their surroundings with caution, lowering his voice.
Just then, a rough-looking group passed by on the other side of the street, bursting into loud, unrestrained laughter. Swords hung from their waists, and their fierce expressions marked them clearly.
"Pirates!"
Zephyr's eyes went wide, and he was about to charge forward, but Sengoku grabbed his arm and hissed through gritted teeth,
"Let it go, Zephyr—keep it low profile! Don't forget why we're here!"
Zephyr watched the pirates disappear down the road, muttering bitterly under his breath.
"Then hurry up and lead the way!"
When Sengoku didn't move, just stood there frozen, Zephyr suddenly narrowed his eyes.
"Wait... Don't tell me you don't know where it is?"
Sengoku's face twitched. Then, all of a sudden, his face turned red.
"I've never been to a place like that! How would I know where it is!?"
"And what, you have? If you're so familiar with it, why don't you lead the way!"
Zephyr immediately clammed up, stumbling over his words.
He hadn't been there either.
"Let me handle it..."
Borsalino, who'd been watching the whole exchange with an amused smirk, finally spoke up with a lazy grin.
Sengoku and Zephyr stared at him in surprise.
They watched as Borsalino casually strolled off and stopped in front of a man wearing a flashy gem-studded ring. Looming over him, he asked casually,
"Say... where's the best geisha house around here?"
"Who the hell are you!?"
The man snapped instinctively after being grabbed.
He was overweight, his expensive suit stretched taut like a balloon. But the moment he saw the tall figure towering over him, he was overwhelmed by a suffocating pressure that chilled him to the bone. Cold sweat broke out across his back.
Especially the face of the man in front of him—obscured in shadow, with that creepy, sidelong stare—it was enough to make anyone feel uneasy.
"S-Sir... the best geisha house is over there,"
The fat man stammered, his face twitching as he pointed in a direction.
"A-A couple minutes' walk that way."
Only then did Borsalino release his grip and smile, even helping the man tidy up his wrinkled collar.
"Much appreciated..."
How polite... The fat merchant barely finished the thought before turning and fleeing for his life.
"All sorted."
Borsalino turned back to the stunned Sengoku and Zephyr with a grin.
...
Two minutes later.
In front of a traditional Japanese-style building.
Sengoku and Zephyr stood stiffly, faces stiff with discomfort, staring up at the elegant, old-fashioned structure that looked more like a miniature palace than a brothel. Every muscle in their bodies tensed up.
"Welcome, honored guests."
A young woman in a black and red cheongsam, her figure graceful and alluring, bowed deeply with a warm smile. The motion made the snowy curve of her chest even more tempting.
Soft, seductive music drifted from inside. The air was thick with the rich scent of alcohol, food, and heavy perfume. The dim lighting gave the place a hazy, indulgent feel.
Sengoku and Zephyr both twitched at the corners of their mouths.
They exchanged a glance.
Zephyr's eye twitched.
"Hey, Sengoku... we're really going into a place like this?"
Sengoku didn't look much better. His face had darkened.
"If we're talking about intel and connections in the underworld, places like this are usually our best bet."
He let out a heavy sigh, his tone serious.
"Just bear with it. Don't forget, our mission is to rescue Daren. As long as we can get him out, a little sacrifice on our end isn't worth fussing over."
"And we're just here to gather information. We're not even drinking—no need to be so tense."
Thinking about his top student still stuck in the depths of danger, Zephyr's expression turned grim.
He took a deep breath and clenched his fists, like he was steeling himself for battle.
"Well... I guess there's no choice."
Borsalino scratched his head in confusion as he watched the two of them struggle.
Seriously? This is a lively geisha hall, not an execution site. What's with the doom-and-gloom?
Shaking his head, he stepped forward, lit a cigarette, and casually wrapped an arm around the waist of the cheongsam-clad hostess, smiling smoothly.
"Big room. Upstairs."
Then, as if remembering something, he turned to the dumbfounded Sengoku and Zephyr with a grin.
"Oh, and don't forget to give a good butt squeeze on the way up—otherwise you'll look totally out of place."
Squeeze... a butt?
Sengoku and Zephyr froze, faces blank with disbelief. Then, as if they'd just been punched in the gut, they groaned, covered their faces, and followed behind him like reluctant shadows.
...
Three minutes later.
"Hahahaha! Come on, don't stop now!"
In an extravagant private room, Sengoku puffed on a gold-trimmed cigar, face flushed and beaming with joy as he raised his drink high.
"Keep the music going! Keep the dancing!"
On stage, graceful dancers spun elegantly. On either side, heavily made-up geishas in ornate kimonos strummed delicate notes on the guzheng and koto.
"Come on, Zephyr, drink! Old man Kong gave us an operational budget, didn't he? So... this counts as part of the mission!"
He threw an arm around Zephyr, who sat in the corner of the room clearly on edge.
Zephyr gritted his teeth.
"Sengoku, don't forget why we're here!"
He then whipped his head toward Borsalino, shouting,
"And you! Why the hell are you so familiar with this kind of place!?"
Still puffing on his cigar, Borsalino raised both hands in a mock surrender, putting on an innocent look.
"Back in the North Blue, Commander Tokikake used to bring me here all the time..."
Zephyr: ...
He stared at Borsalino's pervy-looking face, recalled Tokikake's notoriously sloppy personality, and for a brief moment... he almost felt sorry for the poor geisha entertaining those two.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
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