Chapter Forty-Four: The Devil Fruit Compendium

The navy and pirates have always maintained a relationship of mutual antagonism, yet they also complement each other—it would not be an exaggeration to call them two sides of the same coin. Put simply, wherever there are many pirates, there is also a strong naval presence. In the North Sea, where pirates are particularly formidable, encountering a Vice Admiral from Navy Headquarters is not an uncommon event. And if the term “pirates” here specifically refers to the Donquixote Family, then coming across a high-ranking admiral like Tsuru becomes an everyday occurrence.

After a period of frantic sailing, Qiubai’s small boat finally slowed its pace. Although Vice Admiral Tsuru was patrolling these waters, this did not mean that Qiubai and his companions faced any immediate crisis. As long as their identities as pirates remained undisclosed, everything would be fine. Only the guilty are nervous; once the pirate flag is taken down, who would suspect that the few inconspicuous passengers on this little boat are actually outlaws? Moreover, a renowned naval officer like Vice Admiral Tsuru would hardly open fire on such ambiguous targets.

Even when the two ships collided earlier—when the Interneigh attempted to challenge the warship and failed—the navy would likely turn around and rescue what appeared to be three ordinary civilians. It was precisely because he knew the warship was commanded by someone like Vice Admiral Tsuru that Qiubai could wave to them so openly and amiably, as if saluting the navy. It is perfectly natural for civilians to show goodwill towards the navy that protects them.

Nevertheless, it was wise to keep a safe distance from the warship; Qiubai certainly had no intention of provoking a navy vice admiral. After all, there was only one man, one bear, and one spy on their little boat. Objectively speaking, the navy is, after all, the official armed force, with overwhelming superiority in manpower, firepower, and technology. Normally, when pirates encounter the navy, their first instinct is to flee. Only pirate crews as powerful as the Four Emperors, or those with recklessly foolish captains, would ever consider standing their ground against the navy.

First of all, ordinary pirates simply cannot best the navy—even their cannons are in a completely different league. Second, even if they managed to defeat a warship, the navy would hunt them down relentlessly to reclaim their honor. Rebelling against the navy means being marked for life, something even Doflamingo himself tries to avoid. There are, of course, some lunatic pirates who dedicate their lives to defying the navy or even slaughtering sailors, but such fools inevitably suffer the navy’s wrathful retribution.

If the navy ever truly mobilized its full strength, no matter how arrogant a pirate might be, their ultimate fate would be to become fish food. In the post-Roger era, one might say that the power of pirates and navy is balanced, yet pirates operate as scattered individuals, each fending for themselves, while the navy, like a couch potato’s abs, stands united as one.

The resources the navy can marshal far exceed anything a single pirate crew can summon, even one as formidable as the Donquixote Family. At sea, it has always been the same story—big fish eat small fish. Thus, even if Qiubai wanted to stir up trouble, he could not afford to target the navy. He could only seek out lesser pirates as practice. Indeed, he was eager to experience the atmosphere of a genuine “robbery” on the way back. If he could utter a classic line like, “IP, IC, IQ cards—tell me all your passwords,” it would be the icing on the cake.

But fate had other plans; he was given no such opportunity. Especially after raising Doflamingo’s pirate flag once more—even when distant pirate ships spotted them, they would immediately turn tail and flee. In these waters, Doflamingo’s reputation still commanded great fear; his flag, in some ways, inspired more dread than even the navy’s. After all, words like “ruthless” are rarely ascribed to the navy, while for Doflamingo, those very words seemed to be etched permanently on his brow.

Without the navy present, Doflamingo’s flag could provide tremendous protection in the North Sea, as Qiubai’s journey so clearly demonstrated. Avoiding unnecessary conflict is generally a good thing, but Qiubai did not see it that way; his mind simply worked differently from most people. Safe travels only left him feeling frustrated and bored.

Those four words—“safe and uneventful”—were suffocating for a man whose heart yearned for mischief, leaving him in a foul mood. Of course, no one else cared about his feelings but himself.

Although they had encountered the navy at night, the three did not end their nocturnal voyage, but instead adopted a rotation system for rest. After all, Bepo was not particularly reliable—the bear would fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

As long as two people remained awake at all times, the safety of the voyage could be maximized.

Several days later, Qiubai and his companions finally returned to the Donquixote Family. Qiubai stepped off the boat with a scowl as if the world owed him millions of beri. No sooner had he landed than he paused, waiting for Rosinante to pass by. As he did, Qiubai murmured something to himself in a low voice.

Since communicating with Rosinante was a laborious affair and, in truth, they were not truly companions, Qiubai had spoken little to him along the way. Yet this ambiguous remark left Rosinante momentarily stunned. As he wondered whether he had misheard, Qiubai had already walked away, with the short-legged bear scurrying after him.

……

At Doflamingo’s base, there was a small library. It was more akin to a navigator’s reading room, containing documents that might be confidential to ordinary people but were not particularly secret to those in the know.

For example, if Qiubai wished to find out what leverage Doflamingo held over the Celestial Dragons, he would find nothing in this library. Nevertheless, that did not mean the library was valueless to him.

In fact, many of the books here were extremely practical and worth reading, such as the one Qiubai now held—an “Encyclopedia of Devil Fruits.”

Books of this nature and the knowledge they contain are rarely found among the general populace, but for Doflamingo, possessing such a volume was no problem at all. There was no author or editor listed, but to systematically categorize and document the bizarre and varied powers of Devil Fruits would undoubtedly require a vast expenditure of manpower, resources, and funds. In reality, only the World Government could have accomplished such a feat.

Although the encyclopedia contained only a fraction of all Devil Fruits, given their immense variety, that alone made it an extremely valuable reference. Devil Fruits are not to be eaten recklessly; at least the “encyclopedia” could offer some guidance.