Amid the usual laughter and lighthearted chatter of the girls, the Meili floated high above the clouds, propelled by a drifting island cloud under Reno's control.
They had officially crossed the Red Line.
And now—finally—they had arrived at the legendary pirate graveyard.
The Grand Line.
"I can't believe it… We're really here," Kaya whispered, her voice filled with awe. "I wonder what we'll encounter next…"
"Eh?! Reno—what are you doing?!"
Nami, stretching lazily beside him, suddenly yelped in alarm as the Meili began descending rapidly. She wasn't the only one startled; the other girls instinctively held on to whatever was nearby as the deck tilted.
Clearly, Reno was in control.
He calmly explained, "The Grand Line isn't like the East Blue. Its magnetic fields are chaotic and constantly shifting. To sail properly here, we'll need Log Poses and Eternal Poses calibrated to island magnetic signatures."
"Ohh… So that's how it works," the girls murmured, nodding in realization.
But Nami squinted suspiciously. "It makes sense you'd know all this about the East Blue… but how are you so familiar with the Grand Line too?"
Reno smirked. Nami was sharp—too sharp.
And this was only the beginning. The real surprises were still to come.
Once the Meili gently touched down on the sea, Reno guided it toward a quiet shore. The group disembarked and headed inland, eventually approaching a tall lighthouse that stood watch over the sea.
Beneath it, an elderly man lounged in a chair, his back turned as he casually read a newspaper.
His hairstyle was distinct—curved tufts resembling saffron petals—and his brightly colored tropical outfit gave him the air of someone immune to time.
Even as Reno and the girls approached, the old man didn't stir. Only when they drew close did he glance up.
"And who might you be?" he asked gruffly, his voice unbothered and steady.
A man traveling with six beautiful girls would've turned anyone's head—but not this man. He had seen too much in his lifetime to be surprised by the unusual.
The ever-polite Kaya stepped forward. "Hello, sir. We're travelers from the East—"
"I'm Crocus," the man interrupted bluntly.
The abruptness caught Kaya off guard, but she kept smiling and nodded respectfully.
"Mr. Crocus, may I ask… what is this place called?" she continued.
The man raised his voice with irritation. "Shouldn't you introduce yourselves before asking others for their names? Kids these days—no manners at all."
Nami's temper flared immediately. "We're from the East Blue! This is the Reno Pirates, and I—"
"This is Twin Cape. I'm the lighthouse keeper."
Once again, she'd been cut off. Her jaw clenched.
"You grumpy old man! Maybe you're the one with no manners! Can't you just let someone finish a sentence for once?!"
Sparks danced across her skin—literal, silver-blue arcs of lightning flickering from her fingertips.
Even Crocus seemed to think better of escalating further.
Reno chuckled and finally stepped forward. "I'm Reno, captain of the Reno Pirates," he said calmly. "I know your name, Crocus."
That drew the old man's attention.
Reno walked a bit closer, pointing to his unique hair. "If I remember correctly, the Roger Pirates had a ship doctor by the same name. And… if I'm not mistaken, the two of you share a very specific hairstyle."
Silence.
For a beat, Crocus didn't move.
Then—he chuckled.
"To think a brat like you would actually recognize me," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Seems you're not as clueless as the rest."
"Come. Let's talk inside."
But before they could move—
Thoooom!
A low, thunderous cry rolled through the sea air.
"What was that?!" the girls tensed, instinctively reaching for weapons.
Even Crocus froze. His expression shifted instantly from casual to grim.
"That sound…" Reno muttered, "belongs to Laboon."
All eyes turned to the sea.
And there it was.
A whale.
But not just any whale—a behemoth, easily over 400 meters in length. Even with only a fraction of its body visible above the surface, it dwarfed the shoreline like a mountain rising from the ocean.
Suddenly, the massive creature lunged forward—slamming itself headfirst into the side of the Red Line with a bone-shaking impact.
"That's insane—look at its head!" Kaya cried.
"It's full of scars… Are those from doing this over and over again?" Makino asked, horror in her voice.
Crocus nodded solemnly.
He turned and ran back to his cabin, quickly retrieving a syringe filled with a strong tranquilizer.
Laboon was still trying to ram the Red Line again when Crocus boarded a small raft and approached the whale's side.
With practiced precision, he injected the sedative. Slowly, Laboon quieted.
The whale stopped thrashing.
But even as it stilled, its cries continued—a deep, mournful wail that seemed to shake the sea itself.
"What happened to him?" Makino asked softly, her heart aching.
Crocus returned, sitting heavily in his chair. His eyes looked distant.
And then he told them the story.
Of Laboon.
Of the Rumbar Pirates.
Of a promise made… and never fulfilled.
By the time he finished, silence had fallen over the group.
They now understood why this great beast battered itself against the wall.
"Fifty years…" Nami murmured. "If they were still alive, they would've come back by now…"
Crocus sighed. "I know. But try telling that to Laboon."
The others looked again at the great whale's head—at the web of scars that covered it. So many attempts. So much pain.
Just for a reunion that might never come.
"Actually…" Reno's voice cut in.
He turned his eyes toward the Red Line, a subtle light in his gaze.
"Someone from the Rumbar Pirates… is still alive."