Spider Miles was a marketplace for things that shouldn't be sold.
Steel skeletons loomed over polluted canals. Ships unloaded goods no port would dare name. People came here to disappear. Smoke curled through the alleys, thick with lies and heat and coin.
Nox stepped off the skiff, stretched... and immediately froze mid-yawn.
Sniff.
Sniff sniff.
His eyes widened. His nose twitched. His whole body locked onto the scent like a predator discovering a steakhouse.
"MEAT," he said. Loudly.
His stomach roared in agreement.
"Something's grilling. Spiced. Smoked. Juicy. Oooooh—what is that?!"
He started speed-walking. Then jogging. Then sprinting like a starving lunatic down the alley.
"Meat! Meat! Meat!"
Locals stared as the tall Oni thundered past, sniffing like a maniac and shouting about ribs.
He crashed through crates, knocked over a fruit stall, slipped on a fish, and never stopped moving.
Finally — at the end of a crooked path and behind a row of smoke-stained buildings — he found it.
THE BLACK STITCH.
Smoke billowed out the windows. The scent of grilled Meat and beer was thick enough to chew.
"That's the one," Nox whispered, dazed.
He kicked the door open like a man possessed.
"I'll take one of everything and a beer big enough to swim in!"
⸻
The Black Stitch was the kind of place that served meat in slabs and drinks by the bucket.
The tables were sticky, the roof leaked smoke, and something was always sizzling. It smelled like sin and spice—
and Nox loved it.
The bartender was built like she could wrestle sea kings and win.
One eye was cloudy, the other sharp. Her jaw clicked with every word.
She didn't ask what Nox wanted — just slammed down enough food to feed a crew, then shoved a mug his way.
Nox descended like a hurricane.
Rack of ribs: gobble.
Sausage: gulp-gulp.
Chicken wing: crunch.
Fish? Whole thing gone.
His belly ballooned. His shirt strained. He leaned back with a satisfied groan…
And unleashed a BURRRRRP that shook the ceiling beams.
The tavern went silent.
Then, a laugh.
Then a few more.
Even Mara, the bartender, cracked a half-smile.
⸻
In the corner, someone was watching.
Snaps.
Information broker. Slippery. Nosey. Nervous.
He'd already heard about Yaba. Horned man. Massacre.
Rumors from every dock in the North Blue. The face matched. The appetite sealed it.
He slid into the seat beside Nox.
"Wil D. Nox, right? The Devil from Yaba?"
Nox rubbed his belly. "Who's asking."
Snaps stuck out a hand. "Name's Snaps. I move information — the kind that gets people paid… or killed."
The handshake was ignored. He dropped the hand and kept talking.
"I've got a proposition. Auction house, tonight. Before it opens, they stash everything underneath — vaults full of loot. I know the layout. Security rotation. We get in, get out—clean."
Still nothing from Nox.
Snaps leaned closer.
"Thing is… I'm not exactly what you'd call heist muscle."
He wiggled his fingers — ink-stained, not calloused.
"I plan. I sneak. I bribe. But if things get messy…"
He eyed Nox's massive frame.
"I need someone who can turn a room full of guards into a bad memory."
Nox shrugged, belly round as a drum.
"Can't. Too stuffed to move."
Snaps blinked.
"Wait—what? C'mon, this isn't just normal everyday loot! It's the good kind—sealed crates, black market grade, no questions asked!"
Zzzzzzzzz…
Nox was out.
Head on the table. Drooling.
A Roasted Seaking leg was still clutched in his hand.
Snaps stared.
"Are you KIDDING ME—?!"
⸻
The door burst open.
Five thugs in Donquixote Family coats.
Brass knuckles. Scarred knuckles.
"Wil D. Nox," one said. "Boss Lao G wants a word."
Nox kept snoring.
One of them grabbed his collar—
Big mistake.
WHAM.
Nox snapped awake and headbutted the man across the room.
CRACK.
Another caught a stool to the ribs.
A third went flying out the front window with a scream.
Twelve seconds. Five men down. One Oni still sleepy.
[+3 XP Gained]
[Low-threat encounter]
Nox stretched.
"Ugh. Now I'm hungry again."
Snaps peeked up from behind the bar.
"…Okay," he said breathlessly. "You're in. You have to be in."
Nox blinked. "For what?"
Snaps pulled closer. Lowered his voice.
"The vault. It's not just treasure. There's... other stuff. High-value. One of them's not listed on any manifest. Big crate. Seastone lock. Rumors say it's a failed prototype."
Nox blinked again.
SYSTEM ALERT
SIDE QUEST UNLOCKED: THE CAGED FLAME
Target: Contained Asset — Status Unknown
Vault Access Level: High-Security
Objective: Investigate & Determine Potential.
Crew Compatibility Rating: PROMISING
Nox's eyes flicked open.
"Now I'm interested."
Before Snaps could say more, a shadow loomed over them.
Mara.
Arms crossed. Jaw locked. Eyes sharp enough to skin a shark.
"You paying for that food," she said flatly, "or do I gut you and sell your horns for spice money?"
Nox scratched the back of his head, sheepish. "Uhh… I don't got any money."
He nudged Snaps.
"You got this, right?"
Snaps blinked. "Me?!"
Mara slapped the crumpled bill onto the counter.
Snaps read it. Then screamed.
"You ate that much?! There were two trays of ribs and a whole Seaking!! How are you still breathing?!"
Nox patted his belly. "Talent."
Mara slammed her fist on the bar. The wood cracked.
"I want my money."
Snaps raised both hands. "Okay, okay — look! Join the heist."
Mara arched an eyebrow. "The hell for?"
"You get a cut," Snaps said quickly.
"Vault's full of loot. You help us, you walk away rich."
Mara paused. Thought about it. Cracked her neck.
"Fine. But I hit first and I take the biggest share."
Nox grinned.
"Well. Guess we're robbing an auction."
⸻
Elsewhere on the island…
Lao G listened to the report in silence.
"Wil D. Nox," the Den Den Mushi said.
"Confirmed. Already in a fight."
Lao G flexed his arms. Bones cracked like old wood.
He grinned.
"Finally he's here."