The Key Record Pointer
Yang Ning, sporting a fresh bump on his head, had been chased all the way to Curaçao Island overnight.
Before disembarking, Nami waved her tiny fists and declared with mock severity:
"If you can't find the Log Pose, just pick a pretty spot on this island. We don't need to go any farther—we can just die here."
It was an exaggeration—but not by much. For a navigator, the Log Pose wasn't just important—it was essential.
The Grand Line's magnetic fields and celestial currents were so chaotic that traditional navigation—compasses, star charts, even ocean currents—was useless. Sailing without a Log Pose was like wandering the desert blindfolded.
Yang Ning strolled along the beach toward the native settlement, kicking aside a large purple crab blocking his path. He wasn't in a rush. In fact, he paused to cheer on two crabs locked in combat.
"Oi, Sylvester, Arthur—which one do you think wins?"
Arthur kept his eyes closed, offering no reply. A faint hint of disdain crossed his young but weary face.
Only Sylvester chuckled sheepishly. "Hehe… whichever the boss says wins… wins."
"You little rascal," Yang Ning laughed, pointing at him. "You're really stepping up your game, huh?"
The three of them chatted and laughed—or rather, Yang Ning and Sylvester did—showing zero anxiety about being stranded.
Yang Ning's logic was simple: this was a large island with a full native population. There had to be a Log Pose somewhere.
And if not? There was still the old man from the World Government. He'd navigated the Grand Line with perfect accuracy—surely he had one. And if he had one, then Yang Ning had one too.
At the settlement, Yang Ning didn't waste time on the ramshackle huts. He kicked through a wall and headed straight for Hei Lu's mansion.
When looting, always go for the richest.
The mansion grounds were a charnel house. Limbs lay half-buried in congealed blood, already bleached white by the sun. Vultures circled overhead, feasting.
Yang Ning rubbed his temples. His smile faded.
He'd felt nothing during the slaughter. But now, seeing the aftermath—the mountain of corpses, the river of blood—a strange unease stirred in his chest.
He wasn't a madman. He wasn't a killer for sport. But if the situation repeated itself, he'd do it again. Mercy wasn't in his nature. At best, he'd make it quick—and that was the only kindness he'd offer.
He shoved the feeling aside and walked straight through the gore into the mansion.
Inside, shattered tiles and broken furniture littered the floor. The place was empty—eerily silent, like a tomb.
Yang Ning, Sylvester, and Arthur split up, searching every room.
"Did you find it? A glass ball with a needle inside?"
Both shook their heads.
Yang Ning slapped his forehead. Worst-case scenario.
"Let's go."
He didn't even bother looting. He turned and marched out—now genuinely in a hurry.
"Sylvester—go back to the ship. Tell Nami to set full speed and circle the island. Make sure no vessel leaves. Return to this spot in three hours and wait."
"Arthur—you can sense life around you, right? You and I will split up and hunt for that old World Government rat. Whether you find him or not, meet me on the beach in three hours."
Both nodded and left without a word.
Yang Ning activated his Observation Haki to full power and began scanning the island.
That old man was absurdly resilient. He'd survived Yang Ning's massacre of the Celestial Dragon's warship. He'd survived the slaughter at the mansion. And—most improbably—he'd dodged the apocalyptic sword slash that night by sheer luck, hiding in the jungle like a cockroach.
Now, he trudged through the undergrowth, muttering to himself:
"Black Law's shipyard must be just ahead…"
"Just you wait, that filthy pirate Yang Ning—how dare he humiliate me like this!"
"When I get back to Mary Geoise, I'll go straight to the Five Elders!"
"Oi, old man," a voice called from above, lazy and amused. "Who exactly are you suing?"
The old man froze. He looked up.
Yang Ning stood on a tree branch overhead, black coat fluttering, looking down with a smirk.
This man is scarier than a ghost.
Ever since he'd seen that thousand-meter sword light carve the sky, the old man hadn't slept.
He took a breath, instantly switching on his best performance face.
"Oh! Captain! I was just coming to find you!"
"Oh?" Yang Ning dropped straight down, landing with a soft thud that made the old man flinch.
"I just heard someone mentioning the Five Elders… complaining about 'filth' and 'damn it.'"
He leaned in, eyes glinting. "The wind's loud, old man—did you hear me clearly?"
The old man broke into a cold sweat. After a long tremble, he croaked:
"I'm hard of hearing, sir… didn't catch a word."
"Hahahaha!"
Yang Ning laughed—partly to ease his own tension, partly to watch the man squirm.
Then he held out his hand.
"Give me the Log Pose. Don't tell me you don't have it."
The old man had planned to lie. He knew the Log Pose was his only ticket off this rock.
But Kotetsu slid out half an inch—no words needed.
He swallowed hard, wiped his brow, and reluctantly pulled a small glass ball from his pocket.
"This is it. So far, it's recorded Curaçao Island… and the next destination."
Yang Ning took the Log Pose, turned it in his hands, then leapt onto a nearby tree.
"Thanks, old man."
The man nodded with a damp, forced smile—bitterness burning inside, but not a word dared escape.
Back at the shore, Yang Ning waited.
Three hours later, the New Windbreaker and Arthur arrived as promised.
Yang Ning grinned and held up the Log Pose to Nami.
"Looks like we won't be growing old and dying on this island after all, huh, my dear navigator?"
Nami didn't mind the teasing. She beamed, pounced on him, and snatched the device from his hand.
Onboard the New Windbreaker, shifts were assigned, cabins secured. Everyone rested. At sunrise, they'd sail again.
None of them knew that at the other end of their new course, seven warships already waited.
On the deck of the lead vessel, a tall man in a blue shirt and white vest lounged on a beach chair. He lifted one corner of his eye mask and glanced at the empty horizon.
"Ara ara~ That Dragon Slayer Yang Ning hasn't arrived yet…"
He sighed dramatically.
"Sigh~~~~ Pirates these days are so lazy."
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