Chapter 5: Rumors of the Devil

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The sun hung high in the sky as the Flying Dutchman cut through the waves, its dark sails billowing in the wind. The cursed crew moved with purpose, their grotesque forms a stark contrast to the smooth efficiency with which they handled the ship. At the helm, Davy Jones stood in silence, his mind consumed with thoughts of power, vengeance, and the unknown forces that lay ahead.

It had been days since the encounter with the ghostly pirates and the ominous message left behind. The chest containing the heart still sat safely in Jones's quarters, its presence a constant reminder of the power he wielded—and the dangers it attracted. But it wasn't fear that gripped Jones; it was a growing sense of determination. He would not be hunted or manipulated by unseen forces. If the world of One Piece wanted to challenge him, he would answer with the full force of the Flying Dutchman.

Unbeknownst to Jones, however, the tale of his arrival had already begun to spread. The story of a cursed ship, led by a monstrous captain who could summon the storms themselves, had reached the ears of pirates and civilians alike. Whispers of the Flying Dutchman's wrath echoed in taverns and ports across the Grand Line, gaining momentum with each retelling.

"Have you heard?" one sailor murmured over a mug of rum in a bustling port town. "They say the Devil himself has come to our world—a captain with a heart of stone and a ship that sails the depths of the ocean."

"Aye, and he's looking for blood," another added, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Some say he's after treasure, others that he's looking to build an empire. But mark my words, whoever crosses him won't live to tell the tale."

The rumours spread like wildfire, growing more exaggerated with each telling. Soon, the name "Davy Jones" was on the lips of every pirate crew from the East Blue to the New World. Some dismissed the tales as mere superstition, while others saw them as a warning of a new force rising to challenge the established order.

But for the most powerful players in the world of One Piece, the rumours were more than just idle chatter—they were a potential threat that demanded attention.

In the heart of the New World, on an island surrounded by a sea of flames, the infamous pirate captain known as "Red-Haired" Shanks sat in his quarters, a thoughtful expression on his face. The Yonko had heard the tales of Davy Jones and his cursed crew, and while he was not one to be easily swayed by rumours, something about this new player piqued his interest.

"Captain," a member of his crew spoke up, interrupting Shanks's thoughts. "We've received more reports about that ship—the one they call the Flying Dutchman. It's been seen near several islands in the Grand Line, but no one's gotten close enough to confirm if the stories are true."

Shanks leaned back in his chair, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "A ship that can sail beneath the waves, and a captain with the power to command the seas…" He chuckled softly. "It sounds like something out of a legend, doesn't it?"

"Do you think it's real?" the crewman asked, his tone uncertain.

Shanks smiled, his gaze distant. "Real or not, it's causing quite a stir. And if this Davy Jones is as powerful as they say, he could be a dangerous force in the days to come."

Far to the east, in the dark, fog-shrouded waters of the Calm Belt, the warlord Dracule Mihawk stood on the deck of his solitary ship, Yoru's edge gleaming in the dim light. The world's greatest swordsman had little interest in the affairs of most pirates, but the rumours of Davy Jones had reached even his isolated fortress.

"A cursed captain with a ship that defies the laws of nature," Mihawk mused aloud, his voice cold and calm. "If such a man truly exists, he may prove to be a worthy opponent."

Mihawk's piercing eyes scanned the horizon as if searching for the spectre of the Flying Dutchman. He had crossed swords with countless enemies over the years, but few had ever left a lasting impression. If Davy Jones was as formidable as the rumours suggested, then perhaps he would offer Mihawk the challenge he sought.

Meanwhile, on the Grand Line, a far more sinister figure had also taken note of the tales. In a dark, subterranean lair, deep beneath the surface of a desolate island, the warlord Donquixote Doflamingo lounged on his ornate throne, his trademark grin stretching across his face.

"Davy Jones… the Devil of the Seas," Doflamingo murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "How delightful."

The warlord's laughter echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down the spines of his subordinates. Doflamingo thrived on chaos, and the emergence of a new, powerful pirate was just the kind of upheaval he relished.

"Let's see how this so-called devil fares in the world of pirates," Doflamingo said, his grin widening. "And if he becomes a threat… well, I'll be more than happy to welcome him to the game."

As the rumours continued to spread, Davy Jones was already plotting his next move. He knew that the tales of his power would draw attention—both from those who feared him and from those who sought to challenge him. And in the world of One Piece, making a name for oneself required more than just reputation—it required action.

Jones needed to send a message, a declaration of his presence that would leave no doubt as to who ruled the seas. To do that, he would need a target—someone notorious enough to make an impact, but not so formidable as to jeopardize his plans. The name of one such pirate quickly came to mind.

"Captain!" a crewman called out, breaking Jones from his reverie. "We've received word of a pirate fleet to the north—led by Captain Edward Weevil. He's been causing trouble in these waters, and it's said he's looking to expand his territory."

Jones's eyes narrowed at the mention of Weevil's name. The self-proclaimed son of Whitebeard, Weevil was a brute of a man, feared for his immense strength and ruthless nature. He had carved a bloody path through the Grand Line, leaving destruction in his wake. Targeting him would indeed make a statement—and it would show the world that the Flying Dutchman was not to be trifled with.

"Set course for Weevil's fleet," Jones commanded, his voice a low growl. "It's time the world learned what happens when you cross Davy Jones."

The crew sprang into action, adjusting the sails and turning the Dutchman toward the north. As the ship surged forward, cutting through the waves with deadly purpose, Jones allowed himself a rare smile.

He had been given a second chance—a new world, a new life, and the power to bend the seas to his will. But with that power came the need to prove himself, to establish his dominance in a world full of powerful foes. The battle with Weevil would be just the beginning.

The Flying Dutchman sailed on, its cursed crew eager for the fight ahead. And as the ship drew closer to its target, the sea itself seemed to shudder in anticipation.