One Piece: The True Codex

When Sherlock was very young, he thought his father was the most remarkable man in the world.

His father, Sassarian, had formed alliances across the region, established a guild, and worked with local merchants to promote their products to the distant royal capital. He was revered by the local business community.

But by the time Sherlock reached adolescence, perhaps due to the natural instinct of a young male to seek more social resources, or perhaps simply because he had started to see more of the world and realized that the once-infallible man he admired as a child also had moments of groveling and compromise, he began to feel anger and shame. This sparked his rebellious phase—a textbook case of what William might have called "chūnibyō" in his previous life. Given that Sherlock was already eighteen, it could barely be called "late-stage chūnibyō."

It was only when Sherlock finally stepped out from under his father's wing and plunged headfirst into the thorny jungle of society—bleeding and battered—that he might begin to regain his childhood admiration for his father. Unfortunately, his privileged upbringing had delayed that day, and for now, his mind was still filled with thoughts of defying his father.

His father, Sassarian, was cautious and conservative, embodying the merchant's ethos of prudence and harmony in business. Sherlock, however, was brimming with bold ideas. He believed that the pursuit of profit was a merchant's duty and nature, subscribing to a philosophy akin to the saying from William's past life: "The bolder the man, the greater the yield."

After speaking with Tony on the Transponder Snail and learning some information about William and his proposal, Sherlock became intrigued. That very night, he pulled out all the newspapers related to the Navia Kingdom and its prohibition order, staying up until dawn reading them. The next morning, sporting dark circles under his eyes, he called Tony back and agreed to arrange a meeting with William.

Sherlock kept this smuggling deal entirely to himself. For five days, he told no one about it until he finally asked his family to arrange a ship to take him to Momiji Village.

Though he was the son of the guild president, Sherlock was not overly pampered. He took pride in his identity as a merchant, valued efficiency, and disliked unnecessary pomp. He brought only a male secretary to carry his luggage and requested a small, inconspicuous ship that happened to be passing through the area.

From these arrangements, it was clear that Sherlock's decisions were not necessarily wrong. However, as he boarded the ship and entered the cabin, he couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

Inside the cabin, a group of rough, menacing men with weathered faces stared at him.

Bang!

Sherlock froze in place. His secretary, who had been following closely behind him, had just stepped into the cabin when one of the men pulled out a pistol and shot him in the forehead.

A gaping hole appeared between the secretary's eyebrows, and he collapsed to the floor with a look of utter disbelief. Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere, filling the narrow space with a nauseating stench.

Sherlock had already felt something was off when he boarded the ship. Aside from the burly sailors on deck, there were surprisingly few people. Normally, the guild's overseers would be on deck shouting orders to speed up the work.

Now he understood. These "sailors" were not law-abiding civilians working at the docks—they were pirates. As for the ship's original operators or the overseers sent by the guild, they were either dead like his unfortunate secretary, locked up by the pirates, or—worst-case scenario—collaborators with the pirates.

Sherlock's mind raced as he felt the ship lurch beneath him. His heart sank.

The ship had left the dock.

"Are the others on board still alive?" Sherlock asked. He knew he had to speak up if he didn't want to end up like his secretary. In the brief moment since the secretary's death, Sherlock had quickly deduced that the pirates had a reason for not killing him outright.

The cabin was dimly lit, but Sherlock could make out the faces of three men, either standing or sitting, across from him.

Two of them had wild, afro-like hairstyles—one with a disproportionately large mouth and the other with a pockmarked face. The man in the middle, who seemed to be the leader, had dark skin and wore dreadlocks.

The dreadlocked leader chuckled at Sherlock's question. "You're still worried about others at a time like this?"

"Since you gentlemen haven't killed me yet, I believe you must have your reasons. That means my life isn't in immediate danger," Sherlock said with a forced smile. "The people on this ship are members of my family's guild. As the son of the guild president, it's my duty to inquire about their safety."

The pockmarked man pulled out a rope, walked behind Sherlock, and tied his hands behind his back. He sneered, "So you're a rich kid. Too bad for you—you've got it all wrong. Once we're far enough from shore, you're as good as dead. The others on board will definitely outlive you."

"So, I won't be killed right away?" Sherlock's face turned pale, but he tried to remain calm. "And the others are still alive?"

"If that's the case, gentlemen, may I propose a deal? Could I pay you to ransom the members of my guild?"

The pirates exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter. They seemed to find it utterly ridiculous that a prisoner was trying to negotiate a ransom with them.

"Fifty thousand Beli for each officer, twenty thousand for the others, and a hundred thousand for the captain!"

The laughter stopped. Though the amounts Sherlock offered might not seem like much individually, when multiplied by the number of hostages, it added up to a substantial fortune.

More importantly, it was an unexpected windfall—so unexpected that it seemed almost too good to be true.

For Sherlock, the most important takeaway was the pirates' reaction. From their expressions, he could confirm that the original crew of the ship was not in cahoots with the pirates.

Lowering his gaze slightly, Sherlock asked, "Forgive me for being presumptuous, but may I ask why you want to kill me? I don't recall ever crossing paths with you gentlemen, and I pride myself on befriending people of character. If we had met before, I would surely remember and would never have offended you."

The dreadlocked leader hesitated, but Sherlock's flattery seemed to hit the mark. Finally, he replied, "Someone hired us to kill you."

"And to make it look like a pirate attack," one of the other pirates added nonchalantly. They seemed entirely unconcerned about how much Sherlock, a dead man walking, might learn. Instead, they appeared to relish the cat-and-mouse game.

"I see," Sherlock nodded. "May I ask one last question before I die? How much did your employer pay you?"

The pirates exchanged glances before the dreadlocked leader answered, "Ten million Beli."

Sherlock couldn't help but let out a derisive laugh, as if he couldn't hold it back. The pirate behind him, who had just finished tying his hands, shoved him roughly on the shoulder.

Untrained in self-defense and physically frail, Sherlock stumbled forward, nearly falling to his knees.

Though anger simmered in his heart, he kept his composure, looking up with an apologetic expression. "My apologies. I just found the price amusing—not only does it insult me, but it also insults you gentlemen."

"What do you mean?"

"The son of the Flash Gold Guild's president, worth only ten million Beli? It's laughable. And considering your employer wants to stage this as a pirate attack, you must kill more than just me, which will require extra effort." Sherlock's voice grew steadier as he spoke.

"Flash Gold Guild?" The dreadlocked leader looked puzzled, clearly unfamiliar with the name. However, the large-mouthed man beside him reacted, whispering an explanation into his ear. The leader's expression shifted to one of realization. "So that's why."

"You've heard of our guild?" Sherlock smiled at the large-mouthed man. "It seems your employer is a miser. He must have withheld my identity to avoid you raising your price."

Before they could respond, Sherlock appeared to have a sudden idea. "How about this? I'll pay you three times the amount—thirty million Beli. You won't have to kill anyone or do anything else. Just let me go, and the thirty million, along with the ransom for my guild members, will be yours!"

~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~

Weekly Stable Updates with 30+ Chapters Always Available. High-Quality and Consistent Translations Are the Channel's Top Priority.

Current Books:

Naruto: Deidara's Struggle

God-Tier Kazekage: Building the Ultimate Hidden Sand Village 

Naruto: The Ōtsutsuki Bloodline Development Manual

One Piece:The True Codex

One Piece: Rising to Fleet Admiral Through a Coup

👉patreon.com/GoldenLong