From the city's outskirts, Kalmar City appeared to have been built without any real planning. Small, chaotic houses sprawled like wild weeds, scattered haphazardly across the area. Add to that the bizarre structures residents built to claim extra space, and the impoverished district resembled a strange labyrinth. Narrow alleys twisted between houses and low buildings, shrouded in gloom, with trash, thugs, and criminals blending into the harsh environment.
Pirates like those from the Redbeard Pirate Crew didn't alarm anyone here since the slums were already a haven for all kinds of outlaws.
However, as Reiss led William and the group deeper into the city, ascending a long stone staircase, their surroundings dramatically transformed. Broad streets, orderly buildings, and unobstructed balconies basked in brighter sunlight, contrasting sharply with the chaos below.
One step separated two entirely different worlds.
"I see why it stinks so much down there," one pirate grumbled, pointing to a drainage outlet nearby.
William followed his gaze. Not far away, a drain was pouring out dirty water. It was clear this area had a functioning sewage system. However, since it was built on higher ground without regard for the outskirts, some of the wastewater flowed down into the slums.
Unlike what William and the others had assumed before arriving, the persistent stench in the slums wasn't just from the locals dumping trash. It was also the result of this design oversight.
Reiss waved his hand. "Focus. This isn't the slums. There are guards everywhere."
Indeed, patrols of guards and soldiers were noticeably more frequent here. A few residents glanced at them from a distance, whispering among themselves. The group hurried along, avoiding drawing attention, and followed Reiss to an unassuming restaurant.
Inside the Western-style restaurant, the man behind the front counter—who seemed to be the manager—clearly recognized Reiss. Without a word, he gestured for the group to follow him and led them through the kitchen to a heavy iron door with a small window. The door resembled that of a storage room.
The manager knocked lightly. The window slid open from the inside, revealing wary eyes.
"Guests of the boss," the manager said, stepping aside to let the people behind him be seen.
The person inside inspected the group before opening the door. A burst of rowdy noise and the smell of alcohol hit them immediately.
William hesitated briefly, but the enormous man behind the door—who was as imposing as Reiss—ushered them into the basement room.
What lay beyond was much larger than William had anticipated. The space was arranged like a bar, with dark red wallpaper and warm lighting lending it an intimate ambiance. Vest-clad waiters openly carried drinks to patrons, while scantily clad women danced provocatively on stage, earning whistles from the crowd below.
Once inside, the restaurant manager excused himself with a bow, leaving the group in the care of the muscular man, who guided them past the stage to a spacious meeting room.
The room was well soundproofed; once the door closed, the outside noise disappeared entirely. Inside, a few men had been chatting and laughing but fell silent when Reiss and his group entered.
William scanned the room, quickly noting its layout before focusing on the four men seated on a sofa at the far end.
From the first glance, he could tell they were pirates. Their rugged demeanor and carefree attitudes, as though they didn't even value their own lives, were hallmarks of seasoned pirates who had spent years on the seas.
The man in the center of the sofa, a middle-aged figure with messy blond hair, stood out. His unkempt hair contrasted with the meticulously braided mustache that extended sharply to either side of his hooked nose, giving him an unforgettable appearance.
He wore a high-collared coat draped over a loose vest, exposing his well-defined muscles.
When he recognized Reiss, the three pirates around him, who had been lounging lazily, stood up cautiously. Only he remained seated.
This was Zeff, captain of the Cook Pirates, known as "Red Leg." Like "Redbeard" Barbarossa, he was infamous in the East Blue. However, unlike Barbarossa, whose reputation stemmed from his Devil Fruit powers, Zeff was renowned for his skills and for leading as a captain despite being a chef—a rarity in any sea.
To command a crew of unruly pirates as a chef, and to gain fame in the brutal world of piracy, was a testament to Zeff's extraordinary strength and leadership.
"Well, well," Zeff said with a faint smirk, scanning Reiss's group. "I've always said courage has nothing to do with size. Just because someone's built like an ox doesn't mean they have the guts to match. Look at this—bringing an entire entourage to buy a few things. If you're this timid, why bother being pirates at all?"
His mocking words echoed through the room, drawing the attention of the Redbeard Pirates. Several hotheaded members bristled, including William, who pretended to be offended.
Reiss, however, didn't react visibly to the taunt. Narrowing his eyes at Zeff, he calmly weighed the situation.
In this world, where individual strength could vary so greatly, the leader of a pirate crew was almost always its strongest member. Reiss had initially assumed that the Cook Pirates had sent a subordinate to this meeting. To see Zeff himself present changed the stakes.
Although Reiss had brought seven skilled fighters, he wasn't confident about victory with Zeff in the room—even with double their numbers.
More importantly, the Redbeard Pirates had ties to Alcatio, a royal official who wouldn't tolerate unnecessary trouble in the capital. On top of that, they needed to respect the restaurant owner's connections.
If they could swiftly eliminate one or two of Zeff's key officers, Reiss might have risked it. But seeing no such opportunity, his pragmatic mind dismissed the idea of a needless clash.
Feigning a relaxed smile, Reiss replied, "Captain Zeff, having a rough day? I thought we were here as allies. Why start things off with hostility?"
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