Chapter 438: The Fate of the Former World King

Paradise No-Wind Belt, Impel Down waters.

On the deck of the Queen Ship, Blackbeard stared at A-Long, emaciated as a streak of lightning, his eyes misting over.

“Brother A-Long, you’ve suffered so much these years.”

With that, Blackbeard pulled A-Long into a tight embrace.

A-Long clearly hadn’t expected Blackbeard to come rescue him from prison; feeling the roundness of Blackbeard’s belly, he grinned.

“Captain, you need to lose some weight.”

Blackbeard released him, sighing helplessly: “I’m thirty-two now. At my age, even drinking cold water makes me gain weight.”

In truth, Blackbeard suspected his abnormal weight gain: it was likely due to only partially integrating the Baccania bloodline, causing bloating.

But he had no way to fix it for now.

He could only hope that, after capturing Vegapunk in the future, he could solve this problem.

“Brother A-Long, this is Lafitte—you’ve met before. This is the ship’s intern, Kid, a Paramecia-type Island-Island Fruit user.”

After brief greetings, Blackbeard handed A-Long over to Lafitte’s care and went aboard another unremarkable merchant ship.

Inside the cabin lay the intelligence he had long sought.

“Director Fozz F, I’m David D. Tich, owner of the Blackbeard Club.”

The founding of the United Kingdom was, for Blackbeard, the best thing: as long as you don’t break the law, you can sail freely across the Four Seas.

Even descendants of the David clan were treated equally under the United Kingdom.

But if you break the law, sorry—you’re either executed, imprisoned in the underwater dungeon of Impel Down, or sent to a mine for forced labor.

Precisely because of this, over the years Blackbeard had traveled the Four Seas under the guise of a merchant, always using the name David D. Tich.

“Ah, it’s you,” Fozz F said, legs crossed, sizing up the black, fat Blackbeard before him.

“I know you—you once helped us defend Hive Island alongside Minister Marco.”

At this, Blackbeard felt a pang: Marco, once his comrade in the Whitebeard Crew, was now a powerful deputy minister of the United Kingdom’s Health Force.

And he, Blackbeard, was merely a merchant—a merchant who bore a slight resemblance to a Peacekeeper.

Due to his weight gain, the Peacekeeper built ten years ago based on Blackbeard’s old appearance now only vaguely resembled him.

“That’s correct.”

Fozz F said nothing more, his gaze dull as he changed the subject: “Speak up, Brother Tich—what do you want to know?”

Seeing this, Blackbeard confirmed: Fozz F was indeed a marginal figure of the Morning Star Guild—otherwise, he wouldn’t be this broken.

Moreover, with Little White Hair’s wedding approaching, Fozz F, a Morning Star Guild member, hadn’t returned to the Holy Land for the ceremony—enough to tell everything.

“It’s like this,” Blackbeard paused.

“Director, you know my David clan holds a blood feud with the World Government. Though the Five Elders were executed by the United Kingdom, I still can’t find peace.”

“All these years, I’ve wanted to know: are there any other Celestial Dragons still alive?”

“Celestial Dragons?” Fozz F stroked his chin, his sharp gaze fixed on Blackbeard.

“The whereabouts of the Celestial Dragons come at another price. Those twenty billion were just my appearance fee.”

Hearing this, Blackbeard nearly wanted to kill Fozz F on the spot—twenty billion for an appearance fee? Do you think you’re Little White Hair?

Yet, as Blackbeard thought of how deeply corrupt the United Kingdom had become, a strange excitement stirred within him.

Corruption is good—better if everyone is corrupt.

Otherwise, how could he overthrow the United Kingdom and restore freedom to this sea?

“Then… what’s your price?”

Fozz F held up one hand: “Five billion—I’ll tell you all the Celestial Dragons’ whereabouts. Ten billion—I’ll add one valuable piece of information.”

Blackbeard clenched his fist silently, wanting to punch Fozz F’s head clean off.

Yet, in the end, he nodded silently.

“Fine. Ten billion it is.”

Fortunately, with support from the old aristocracy alliance and profits from the Blackbeard Club’s trade, Blackbeard had at least thirty billion in liquid funds.

With that, he pulled a file folder from his carry-on bag.

“Director, these are eighty billion in bearer bonds from the Sabaody Merchants’ Guild. The remaining twenty billion will be paid upon completion.”

“Good boy,” Fozz F grinned, taking the folder and opening it, inspecting it like a demon obsessed with wealth for over ten minutes.

This scene reassured Blackbeard further.

This was a discarded outcast from Impel Down, utterly resigned, scheming only to squeeze out money.

“There aren’t many surviving Celestial Dragons. One is Shamm Luoke , brother of Red-Hair Shanks—he now serves as Head of Security for Lord Seven.”

“Manmayya Junchu currently works at the Holy Land Library.”

“Elaine Saint is now employed in the Engineering Department.”

“Besides that, there’s a Celestial Dragon lost in the Satsuruso Province of the East Blue—just ten years old, named Kobi, with pink hair.”

“That’s all I know.”

Blackbeard nodded: if Fozz F had named dozens, he’d have suspected deception.

After all, Fozz F was merely an ordinary member of the Morning Star Guild—not even a cadre.

Once this matter was settled, he must personally travel to the East Blue and kidnap this Celestial Dragon named Kobi, keeping him close to torment.

“Since you paid ten billion.”

Fozz F lowered his voice: “I’ll tell you one more secret—the former World King, Im, never died. He was sent by the Captain seventeen years into the future…”

Mid-sentence, Fozz F let out a hollow laugh.

“It’s already been nine years… eight years from now, the former World King will return.”

Fozz F portrayed the weary, marginalized, and ostracized demeanor of a failed bureaucrat with uncanny precision.

Blackbeard stared, stunned.

Eight years from now… the former World King returns?

“Why send him seventeen years into the future?” Blackbeard asked quickly.

Fozz F shrugged.

“Don’t get greedy, Brother Tich—this secret comes at another price.”

Seeing this, Blackbeard pulled out another Sabaody Merchants’ Guild bond.

“Director, here’s another twenty billion.”

Fozz F happily took the bond: Of course—I’m the Captain’s favorite. He always thinks of me for these good assignments.

“Because Lord Seven isn’t confident he can defeat the former World King, so he sent him seventeen years ahead. Now there are only eight years left.”

“Brother Tich, listen to me.”

“Enjoy life while you can—eight years from now, the world will be in chaos again.”

“No need to see me off.”

Fozz F, clutching ten billion Berries, set sail toward Impel Down, preparing to use its teleportation array to reach the Holy Land for the Captain’s wedding.

Left alone, Blackbeard’s breathing grew rapid, until he could no longer contain himself—he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“Hehehehehe!”

Here was his chance!

In these eight years, he would find the Dark-Dark Fruit at all costs—otherwise, he wouldn’t even have the qualification to ally with the former World King, Im.

Blackbeard returned to the Queen Ship, brimming with ambition.

Seeing this, Lafitte pursed his lips.

He knew: after all these years, ordinary motivation no longer worked on Blackbeard—only outside-the-box tactics did.

The veteran nuclear-powered ox, Blackbeard, is now in place—will the Dark-Dark Fruit be far behind?!