One Piece: The True Codex

For a moment, William thought Barbarossa might strike. He knew that the series of devastating blows Barbarossa had suffered left the man brimming with fury, desperate for an outlet. Yet, despite teetering on the edge of madness, the hulking pirate restrained himself in the face of the seemingly frail Arcadio.

The conversation was clearly over. With a swift kick, Barbarossa overturned the tea table and stormed out, his anger palpable. He didn't even bother to acknowledge William or Kuro as he left.

William couldn't understand why Barbarossa had held back. Even though Arcadio was accompanied by a group of guards, a direct confrontation would likely have ended poorly for the frail minister, especially considering Barbarossa's strength, even in his injured state.

William didn't immediately follow Barbarossa. His hesitation caught Arcadio's attention, who glanced at him with mild curiosity.

Turning to Kuro, Arcadio saw him give a subtle nod of confirmation before addressing William. "So, you're Stolt?"

"Yes, sir," William replied obediently.

Arcadio's expression softened into one of satisfaction. "You're the ship's navigator, correct? That means you've received a decent education. Unlike the rest of the crew—those uncouth, disrespectful brutes—you should spend more time associating with people like Kuro. People with refinement, discipline, and respect for order."

William glanced at Kuro, who took a sip of tea and gave him a discreet smile. Turning back to Arcadio, William maintained his polite demeanor and repeated, "Yes, sir."

On a remote, long-abandoned island, a merchant ship had finally arrived, breaking the years of solitude.

Before the gangplank could even be lowered, Aramis leaped down from the bow of the ship, landing gracefully on the shore. He surveyed the surroundings briefly before pulling out a map from his coat and comparing it to the island's features.

Once the gangplank was in place, Edmond, Tony, and Sherlock joined him on the shore. Meanwhile, sailors and laborers disembarked from the ship, bustling about as they began their work.

The group of four didn't join in the manual labor. Instead, they huddled around the map, discussing their plan. After a brief exchange, Edmond and Tony took the lead, clearing a path, while Aramis and Sherlock followed, using the map to guide them deeper into the island.

The island was eerily quiet, save for the occasional call of a bird. Its isolation and rugged terrain—strewn with jagged rocks and overgrown with wild vegetation—made it an ideal hiding place for treasure. No wonder Barbarossa had chosen it as a stash for his loot.

After searching for hours, the group finally stumbled upon a hidden path in a shadowy, inconspicuous corner of the island. Following it, they found themselves standing before a natural cave entrance.

Except for Sherlock, who had grown up in a life of wealth and privilege, the others—Edmond, Aramis, and Tony—were visibly excited. So far, everything they had discovered matched the descriptions in Barbarossa's navigation logs.

Lighting a kerosene lamp he had brought along, Tony took the lead, entering the cave first. The narrow passage forced the others to follow single file. After walking for some time, Tony suddenly froze, blocking the way.

"What's wrong?" Edmond asked, giving Tony a nudge. Startled, Tony quickly stepped aside, allowing the others to see what lay ahead.

A massive, natural cavern opened up before them. But none of them had the presence of mind to marvel at its grandeur.

The cavern was filled with heavy wooden chests, stacked nearly to the ceiling. Some of the chests were so full that their lids wouldn't close, leaving their contents—gold coins and gemstones—spilling out in plain view. The light from the kerosene lamp reflected off the treasure, casting dazzling colors across the walls of the cave.

Sherlock, the son of a former guildmaster, was the first to snap out of his daze. He nudged Aramis and said, "Stop gawking. Let's get this stuff out of here."

"Yes, yes, of course," Tony stammered, rubbing his hands together in excitement. "It's all ours now!"

"No," Sherlock corrected him, casting a sidelong glance. "It all belongs to William."

Tony froze, forcing a grin. "Of course. But William isn't a stingy man. We've all contributed to this operation; he'll definitely share the spoils with us."

"I'm sure he will," Sherlock replied evenly. "But until William says otherwise, all of this belongs to Morgan."

Edmond, unable to contain his excitement, ran over to the chests and began prying them open one by one. Aramis, after giving Sherlock and Tony a long, thoughtful look, followed suit.

With the others distracted, Tony leaned closer to Sherlock, lowering his voice. "What's your problem? Are you deliberately trying to humiliate me?"

Tony's tone was anything but polite. With the Flash Gold Guild now defunct, Sherlock had lost much of his former influence. To Tony, Sherlock was little more than a hanger-on, someone who owed his current position entirely to William's favor.

In fact, if it weren't for William's protection, Tony would have long since bled Sherlock dry of his remaining wealth.

Sherlock, however, remained composed. He had grown accustomed to such shifts in attitude following his fall from grace. That was why the few words William had entrusted Edmond to relay to him had left such a deep impression.

"I'm simply reminding you to know your place," Sherlock said, not even bothering to look at Tony. "I don't know when you got the idea that you're on the same level as William, but trust me—it's better to hear this from me than to have William remind you himself."

"But I…" Tony began, only to be cut off.

"But what?" Sherlock interrupted. "This plan was William's. The main players in this operation were Edmond and Aramis. As for that brewery you're so proud of, don't forget—it was William's idea to establish it in the first place."

Tony's face turned red, then pale, as Sherlock continued, ignoring his reaction.

"And those young men back in Maple Leaf Village—do you really think they still follow you out of loyalty? They stick around because they believe you're part of William's crew. If William hadn't said otherwise, they'd have abandoned you long ago. When was the last time you visited the docks or the brewery? These days, the person they admire and respect isn't you—it's William. His strength, intelligence, and approachability have won them over."

Sherlock's voice grew colder. "And now, with Hayreddin and Reis dead, Barbarossa is next. You and I grew up hearing stories about the terror of the Red-Beard Pirates, but once William kills Barbarossa and takes his place as captain, who do you think those young men will pledge their loyalty to? What makes you think you can stand on equal footing with him?"

"William hasn't said anything like that…" Tony muttered weakly.

"That's because he doesn't see the need to. He assumes the people around him are smart enough to figure it out on their own. Apparently, he overestimated you."

Sherlock clapped Tony on the shoulder. "I'm only telling you this because of our past friendship, old friend."

The emphasis Sherlock placed on "old friend" carried a hint of sarcasm, revealing that he hadn't entirely forgiven Tony for his earlier behavior.

~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~

Explore More Amazing Fanfiction on My Patreon!

Unlock 30+ Advance Chapters and Enjoy Exclusive Stories Early!

👉 patreon.com/GoldenLong