In the town, atop the rooftops.
Ochoku savored the cool breeze, taking a bite of the pizza in his hand while holding a small wine flask in the other.
Taking a sip from time to time, he narrowed his eyes at the gradually dissipating dust in the distance, a completely carefree grin spread across his face.
“Hehehe…” Ochoku gave a few light chuckles, sticking out his long tongue to lick the sauce from the corner of his mouth.
“The noise has died down?
The good show is over already?
Man, if that’s the case, that guy was way too fragile.”
With that, he shook the flask, listened to the liquid sloshing inside, and took another swig.
Ochoku wasn’t worried about any unexpected accidents.
The single “condition” that could cause an accident was already firmly in his grasp.
Ron wanted to clear his name?
As long as that “condition” was in Ochoku’s hands, Ron would never be able to prove anything.
Even if Whitebeard, Kaido, and Stussy were willing to testify, without actual “proof,” Roger wouldn’t listen to a word of it.
Purupurupuru—
Purupurupuru—
Suddenly, the Den Den Mushi inside Ochoku’s coat began to ring.
Ochoku paused slightly, stuffed the remaining crust of pizza into his mouth, chewed at an unhurried pace, and wiped his hands on his clothes before slowly taking out the Den Den Mushi to answer.
“Hey, you bastard!
I’ve been waiting for your call for a long time!” Ochoku cursed.
The other side didn’t tolerate his attitude, snapping right back, “Bastard, don’t you know why it took this long?
Why didn’t you share the intel on Ron beforehand?”
Ochoku sneered, “Who could have known that guy had that kind of strength?
Besides…
I had no obligation to tell you.
You messed up because of your own Marine incompetence.”
“You…” The voice on the other end sounded furious, choking on its own words for two seconds before managing to squeeze out a breath.
“Hey,” Ochoku cut him off, his tone turning dead serious.
“Where is my payment?”
The other end fell silent for a moment before speaking in a heavy voice: “What’s the rush?
I’ve already arranged for personnel to deliver it to your specified location.”
Ochoku smiled with satisfaction.
“That’s more like it.” Pausing, he added, “Hey, Sengoku, let’s make another deal.”
Silence hung over the line for a short while before Sengoku’s voice came through, asking warily, “What kind of deal?”
“I have a woman named Annika here.
She was one of the slaves you were escorting earlier, but her true identity is the target the Kuja Pirates want to rescue.”
“Hm?” Sengoku pondered for a few seconds, his voice completely flat.
“What do I need her for?”
“Hehehe…
Don’t try playing the ‘useless’ card to lower the price.” Ochoku saw right through the tactic, speaking with clear mockery.
“What use she has, you know far better than I do.
I believe a smart man like you will definitely make this trade with me.”
The other side remained silent for a long time.
So long that Ochoku thought he had hung up.
Glancing down at the Den Den Mushi mimicking Sengoku’s expression, he asked, “What?
Or are you truly not interested?”
After a long pause, Sengoku’s voice finally drifted over slowly: “How do you want to carry out this trade?”
“Very simple,” Ochoku’s tone turned brisk.
“Give me the payment first.
When I leave this island, I will tell you where she is locked up.”
“What if you’re scamming me?”
“Hehehe…” Ochoku laughed.
“We aren’t doing a one-time business.
I’m certain we will cooperate more and more, because no matter when or where, I can provide you with whatever Rocks is planning to do.”
Sengoku hesitated for a moment before finally spitting out a single word: “Fine.”
The very next second, he added in a cold voice, “However, Ochoku, let me make this clear upfront.
If you dare double-cross us, I guarantee Rocks will be the first to know you’re playing both sides.”
Ochoku’s smile didn’t waver as he continued, “Don’t worry…
I have zero reason to do something like that.”
He was entirely right.
Competing for scraps among the monsters of the Rocks Pirates could never compare to the profits of cooperating with the Marines.
Rocks offered pure risk, while the Marines provided solid gold and silver.
He calculated those numbers better than anyone.
“Alright.
Don’t contact me unless necessary, and don’t expose yourself around Rocks,” Sengoku warned.
He still valued Ochoku as a useful chess piece.
As long as he was used well, the Marines could avoid many unnecessary losses.
“How is that possible…?!”
Ochoku suddenly jumped in fright, his voice rising sharply.
His eyes were locked onto a street not too far ahead, where a golden figure was moving rapidly, darting through the crowd.
“What do you mean, ‘how is that possible’?” Sengoku asked with suspicion.
“Nothing, hanging up now.”
Ochoku quickly cut the call, frantically shoving the Den Den Mushi back into his coat.
This shouldn’t be happening.
Did that bastard Roger…
not make a move on him?
Ochoku instinctively shrank back, ducking behind a chimney in fear of being spotted by Ron.
“Tch!” Ochoku let out a disdainful scoff.
“I overestimated you, Roger.
To think I risked my neck feeding you the intel…
and this is how you repay me?”
Just as Ochoku was cursing under his breath, Ron suddenly came to a dead halt on the street below.
Ochoku’s breath hitched instantly.
The moment Ron turned around, he hid himself completely from view.
Ron didn’t see anyone, but his Malice Perception clearly picked up an intensely thick aura of hostility coming from that direction.
“Who is it?
Roger?” Ron murmured, his brows furrowing slightly before rejecting the thought.
“No…
Roger didn’t leave in this direction.”
With that, his figure flickered and vanished from where he stood.
By now, Ochoku had already climbed down from the roof, trying his best to make his expression look natural.
Unfortunately, before he could take more than a few steps…
Whoosh!
A golden figure descended from above, landing right before him.
Ochoku froze, his footsteps coming to an abrupt halt.
Yet very quickly, an easy smile surfaced on his face.
“And here I was wondering who it was,” Ochoku gave the wine flask in his hand a light shake, speaking in a relaxed tone: “Turns out it’s you, Ron.”