Chapter 87: Liberation

Qiubai’s words were unmistakably leading, with an overt agenda. He began by emphasizing the importance of “relying on oneself,” and immediately after, pressed for a choice: to wait endlessly for rescue or to struggle out of adversity through personal effort. His intent could not have been clearer.

Moreover, his target for persuasion was someone as young as Ailun. There was no need for convoluted rhetorical traps—anything too complex might simply leave the boy baffled. The most crucial point, however, was that although Qiubai was guiding him, his reasoning was undeniably sound from Ailun’s perspective.

If they were to restore Ailun’s lost limbs using Luo’s “Surgical Fruit” ability, it would actually be a rather straightforward matter. The first step would be to find someone of similar height and build to Ailun, and then, through various persuasive—if regretful—means, convince that person to donate their own hands and feet for the sake of “true love.” Afterwards, the limbs would be grafted onto Ailun.

The process was reminiscent of “cut and paste,” even simpler than grafting in woody plants.

But Qiubai had no desire to proceed this way. Allowing someone to “reap the benefits without effort” left a distasteful feeling in him. He wanted Ailun to go to the “Kingdom of the Future”...

On a mechanical island somewhere in the first half of the Grand Line lay a nation called “Baltimore, the Kingdom of the Future.” If there was any distinguishing feature of this country—apart from its harsh, inhospitable natural environment—it was its unmatched technological advancement. In terms of scientific research alone, Baltimore was reputedly more than five centuries ahead of the rest of the world. Such a “fantastical” degree of progress and imbalance was absurd, yet this was simply the way things were.

The reason was simple: years ago, a certain “Vegapunk” was born in that country—a peerless scientist who would later surpass the wisdom of all mankind.

By this time, Vegapunk should have long since left Baltimore, but he had left behind a legacy of extraordinary knowledge. Even in the absence of this genius, the nation’s technological prowess remained at the world’s pinnacle.

Qiubai’s knowledge was somewhat vague, but as far as he knew, semi-mechanical biological reconstruction was already a non-issue there. Whether through direct surgical modification or self-conducted enhancements after learning the requisite techniques, either route was entirely feasible.

This was the path Qiubai preferred, and the one Ailun ultimately chose. Of course, this had nothing to do with a desire to see Ailun become a complete “runt,” nor any intention to hand him a silver pocket watch and have him play the role of an “Alchemist of the Seas.” Qiubai’s motives and plans were always rooted in reality... His main reason was necessity.

One day, Qiubai would have to set sail himself. To travel with some peace of mind on the Grand Line, or even the New World, a competent navigator was considered essential. Yet even more crucial than that was the “material foundation”—a ship sturdy enough to survive the rigors of the journey.

The New World could easily destroy vessels of any kind, but the more robust a pirate ship, the better. Qiubai, with his luck for destruction and his ill fate with ships, needed at least one that could withstand some punishment—so he wouldn’t meet the same fate as the Kongzhi, Kongou, or Caesar.

At the moment, Qiubai was just a hired hand, but there was no doubt the “Qiubai Pirates” were in the making. A navigator was already on board—yet what about the ship?

Qiubai’s gaze drifted to the boy with only stumps left for limbs... No, perhaps not yet a “boy” in the truest sense? After what he had been through, his mental maturity was surely at least at that level. All Qiubai hoped was that he wouldn’t grow into a brooding, dark, and troubled adolescent.

So... could Ailun, while reconstructing his body with mechanical parts, spare some time to build a pirate ship as well?

That was a concern for another time. For now, the challenge was that the Kingdom of the Future was not so easily reached. First, it lay in the early stretch of the Grand Line, and as a member of the Donquixote family, Qiubai could not leave the North Sea. Second, the kingdom sat in a perpetually frozen sea, accessible only by the Navy’s icebreakers on scheduled routes.

As things stood, there was simply no way Ailun could reach that place on his own.

For now, all these ideas remained just Qiubai’s wishful thinking and plans on paper. Did Ailun even have the ability to master such advanced knowledge? That remained uncertain.

It had to be acknowledged: the world was full of disheartening truths. Often, the desperate efforts of the many could not compare to the casual genius of a few. Some people simply seemed born for certain things.

Yet, if the choice was simply between possible and impossible, Qiubai still felt there was no reason not to pursue this possibility.

Qiubai was always hatching various plans—plans that only ever seemed to multiply. Yet he had not settled on his next “course of action.” For now, the urgent matter was to help Ailun recover from his weakened state as soon as possible.

But unexpectedly, these challenges were resolved on their own, about a week later.

On that day, Qiubai received two major pieces of information. First, he spotted a familiar name on a brand new wanted poster delivered with the latest paper from the News Coo, along with a headline-worthy piece of news on the front page.

It should have been a monumental scandal, yet the headline described it in the opposite tone. The title consisted of just seven words:

“Hero” Fisher Tiger.

In short, a fish-man named Fisher Tiger had scaled the sheer, nearly vertical cliff of the Red Line—thousands of meters high—with his bare hands. What he did next bore some resemblance to Qiubai’s earlier exploits: he caused a commotion at the World Government headquarters and the Holy Land of the Celestial Dragons, Mariejois.

Yet it was the subsequent events that highlighted the difference in character between the two. Qiubai’s actions had been about creating chaos, stealing things, and making a getaway. Fisher Tiger, on the other hand, freed thousands of slaves of all races imprisoned in the Holy Land.

By comparison, Qiubai seemed woefully lacking in humanity—these were, truly, people on different levels. Tiger was a “liberator,” whereas Qiubai acted only for his own sake. But ultimately, such comparisons were meaningless. Anyone branded a hero would, inevitably, meet a predictable fate, and Tiger would be no exception.

Heroes change nothing. The one who shaped this era was no hero, just a pirate named Gol D. Roger.

Regardless, the shockwaves from Tiger’s actions were global. Although it was his first bounty, the amount on his wanted poster was astonishing: 230 million.

Yet even that sum seemed paltry for what he had done.

Now that the news had broken, many dangerous individuals freed by Tiger were out at sea—some had become pirates, even Warlord-caliber pirates; others had joined the Revolutionary Army, some even rising to the highest ranks. Two hundred million, even if the beli hadn’t yet depreciated as it would in a decade, still felt insulting.

“But... fish-men really do look strange. How should I put it? The creativity and imagination are remarkable.”

Qiubai’s eyes lingered on the wanted poster, his attention as idiosyncratic as ever—this time, however, he touched on the heart of the issue. “We all look different”—this was the root cause of the rift and animosity between humans and fish-men.

In fact, humans and fish-men could interbreed and produce fertile offspring, so despite their differences, they were still within the same species. And yet, just because of their differing appearances... one could say that the tyranny of appearances truly ruled the multiverse.

Still, for all its explosive global impact, Tiger’s actions had little direct effect on Qiubai. What did matter was the sudden message from Doflamingo that followed.

That was enough to give Qiubai a reason to head for the Grand Line.