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

  Although Isnds 16 and 43 seemed far apart by hey were separated only by a narrow waterway. Yet, despite their proximity, the two isnds were like entirely different worlds.

  Isnd 43, a tourist destination, boasted streets, bustling crowds of merts and tourists, and rows of shops, restaurants, cafés, and bars. The air was filled with cheerful chatter and the sound of erce. 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 insignifit before Smoker, he was more than enough to strike fear into most pirates. In the first half of the Grand Lihose with Haki were rarer than Logia Devil Fruit users.

  In stark trast, Isnd 16 was chaos inate.

  Ohe most wless isnd of the Sabaody Archipego, it had few residents to begin with, and they were frequently harassed by pirates. When Smoker arrived, he evacuated the remaining civilians and merts, leaving the isirely to the pirates. It became a pilot project for his isnd relocation pn.

  Smoker quietly nded on Isnd 16, avoiding attention as he wahrough its streets. The isnd lived up to its reputation as an outw haven. Within a single block, he witwo brawls escate 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, tinuing to eat, drink, and verse as if nothing had happened.

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

  After all, there were no i civilia here. Anyone on Isnd 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 ter, the sounds of screams came from inside. Shortly after, the shopkeeper emerged, bloodied, and hung up a “Closed” sign before log the door. When the shopkeeper noticed Smoker him, he merely gave a knowing smile.

  Smoker didn’t care about the isnd’s state. As long as civilians weren’t affected, he didn’t mind the chaos. In fact, he sometimes fueled it by selliive ons and ammunition to unsuspeg pirates.

  He avoided the fights and headed to a small tavern tucked into a quiet er. The building looked more like an abandoned shack than a business. Its paint eeling, 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 er in sight, just an old man with a white beard reading a neer.

  Despite Smoker’s noisy entrahe old man didn’t even gnce up.

  Smoker approached the bar, arranging three gsses into a triangur 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 returo the bar and pushed the liquor shelf aside, revealing a dark passage.

  “Let’s go,” he said, lighting a dle and leading Smoker into the hidden corridor.

  The passage extended a siderable distance before opening into a spacious and fortable underground room, plete 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 de. “What are you talking about? I’d never do such a thing. Don’t snder me, odore!”

  “Denying it? Wao jog your memory? One-Eyed Snake Jinnon, Skullbreaker Shawn—”

  “Stop! Stop!” Pab hastily tried to cover Smoker’s mouth. “odore—no, godfather! I was just making some side money. o 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 hahe real business properly.”

  Relieved, Pab ughed nervously. “The main business is going smoothly, as always.”

  He opened a hidden partment 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-reted crimes have dropped by 40%.”

  Smoker reviewed the report and nodded in satisfa.

  “And that’s with some pirates still slipping through the cracks. Once we fully isote them in the wless zohe crime rate will drop even further.”

  He khis report would strengthen his case for the relocation pn 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 ime.”

  Pab grinned sheepishly and didn’t argue.

  “What about the intel work?” Smoker asked. “Do we have full ce of the wless zone?”

  Pab shook his head.

  “We’ve set up plenty of outposts in bars, inns, and warehouses, so the ce is there. But manpower is the issue. Most outposts have only one or two agents, and with the o stay undercover while gathering ihe efficy is low.”

  Smhed inwardly. He kablishing the work before relog civilians wasn’t ideal, but it was necessary. Pirates weren’t fools. If the intel work 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 tact. "You've worked hard. Headquarters has approved our request for reinforts. New recruits will be assigo 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, fwlessly seeing him off.

  As Smoker walked away, his mind raced.

  Intelligence...

  To precisely capture pirates and sve traffickers, relying solely on the Navy's intelligework isn’t enough.

  Smoker wasn't pnning to eliminate pirates indiscriminately. Doing so would only raise arms. Instead, his strategy was tet valuable ohose with bounties or Devil Fruit powers.

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

  Suddenly, aruck 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 Archipego, she immediately khe 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 dispyed her bat abilities, her es were fearsome. Fire Fist Ad Boa Hancoe 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 matoker 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 io make a move now, Smoker reasoned.

  Lost in thought, he wandered into a deserted alleyway.

  Hmm? Something feels off.

  He sensed multiple resences around him.

  Suddenly, a gruff voice bellowed, "Stht there!"

  Dozens of armed men emerged, surrounding Smoker with menag 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, nky pirate with sharp cws, 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 st’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!"

  Sm the gathering mob. "Well, I was hoping for some downtime, but..."

  His eyes darkened. "Bck Vortex!"

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

  Smoker emerged unscathed, dragging a rge sack behind him.

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

  "Ah, my esteemed er! What treasures do y me today?"

  Smoker dropped the sato the ter. "Flintlock rifles—25 pieces. Pistols—37. Swords—17. And some assorted odds and ends. What’ll you give me?"

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

  Smoker nodded without bargaining. "Gold s."

  After the transa, Smoker hefted the weighty bag of s, a satisfied smile on his face.

  Pirates... They’re walking treasure chests.