Chapter 60: A New Dawn for Fishman Street

After Krell finished speaking, he stood up and headed toward his home.

The moment he left, the little hut buzzed with voices as everyone began debating whether this plan could really work.

Krell heard the commotion behind him and the corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile as he kept moving forward.

In his mind, memories of his childhood here kept playing over and over.

Krell was born into a rough life. Maybe this was just the fate of Fishmen—their strength and their status never matched.

He’d never met his mother. All he had were a few faded photographs and his father’s stories. She’d been snatched by a slaver ship not long after he was born. With human traffickers getting bolder each year, Krell’s father could have gone searching for her, but because Krell was there, he chose instead to stay and raise his son.

When Krell turned twelve, his father heard some news about his mother from God knows where, and rushed to the surface to look for her. But he never came back. Most likely, he’d been taken by slavers too.

Since then, Krell was on his own. At just twelve he was already surviving solo on Fishman Street.

He’d done every dirty, thankless job you could imagine. No matter how rough things got, he never complained—he knew complaining changed nothing. No one helped him. He got used to all the cold stares and the looks from people who just watched.

Despite all this, he still managed to grow strong in this dark place. As his body became more imposing, his voice started to matter, and eventually, he became someone people listened to.

Maybe that’s what they mean by rising unsullied from the mud. Krell never bullied the weak after climbing up—he looked after his fellow Fishmen who’d suffered humiliation since childhood, giving them shelter and protection.

Krell looked around the battered little room, memories surfacing of his father playing with him back when he was a kid.

Ever since Karl taught him new abilities, Krell could feel himself growing stronger every day. He believed that one day, with his own power, he’d find his parents—even if all that was left were their remains.

Krell’s fists clenched tight. He growled, his voice filled with fury.

“I swear I’ll find you. Whoever took you—no matter who it was—I’ll make sure they pay.”

This place was once filled with childhood memories. He could still hear his father’s words echoing in his head.

But now, that world was gone forever.

Krell rolled up his sleeves and started by tearing down the broken parts of the old house.

Hauling new reef stones from farther away, he worked tirelessly until the house looked exactly as he remembered. Only now, the people from those memories were gone.

Krell knew he had too much to do. He couldn’t afford to linger here any longer.

He finished his repairs and, though his mind was racing, he soon drifted into a restless sleep. But from the way his body tossed and turned, anyone could tell he hadn’t truly dozed off. He wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.

…

Under the sea, time was kept differently. By about 8:00 in the morning, crowds of Fishmen gathered at the exit of Fishman Street. Some were massive, standing seven or eight meters tall; others were barely over a meter. All of them hoped to escape this place and head for the seas.

“Still not here yet?”

“Should be any minute. It’s almost time.”

“For real? We’re gonna join the Rocks Pirates?”

“What’s there to be scared of? There’s so many of us, there’s no way he can trick us all.”

Just then, Zack spotted a figure in the distance, making its way over step by step.

“He’s here!”

He knew instantly—it was Krell. He’d watched Krell head home yesterday himself.

“Krell! Over here!”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

“So, you all really want to head out to sea?”

Krell used a sliver of his Observation Haki. What he sensed left him stunned—the crowd stretched further than he could see. And that was just those who’d heard the news. That alone was fifty thousand Fishmen. Even more were still making their way here. Fishman Island’s population was over 4.5 million, and more than a million had been exiled to Fishman Street.

He wondered whether bringing so many would cause any trouble for Karl.

But looking at the crowd before him, he knew this wasn’t the right time to check in with Lord Karl.

Krell cleared his throat and spoke in a deep, steady voice to everyone assembled.

“If you want to leave for the sea, you’ll be putting your life on the line. I hope you all understand that.”

“And once we’re out there, if you ignore my orders, I can’t guarantee what’ll happen to you.”

Zack was the first to answer.

“No worries, Lord Krell.”

Soon, voices from all around began to chime in their agreement.

“We’re sick of hiding on Fishman Street—it’s no way to live.”

“Exactly. If there were better choices, we wouldn’t be risking our lives at sea.”

“Alright, if we’re set, here’s our first destination.”

Krell called out the loudest voices in the crowd—the swordsfish Zack, the giant whale Brynn, the electric eel Cassia, and the sea dragon Norman.

He pulled out the map Karl had given him and pointed out their route.

“First, we head here. Once we’re close, I’ll use the Den Den Mushi to contact Lord Karl.”

“Everyone clear on what to do?”

The four nodded.

“Crystal.”

Seeing their response, Krell put the map away.

“Good. Let’s move out.”

But Norman, the sea dragon, spoke up right away.

“Wait!”

“There are still more on their way—can we wait for them?”

Even Krell was stunned for a second. Clearly, something huge had rocked Fishman Island.

“More of them, huh?”

He thought for a moment, made his decision, then called Karl on the Den Den Mushi.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do.”

He pointed to the four of them.

“You four are squad leaders now. Each of you takes a team and heads for the destination.”

He pointed at himself and Zack first. Time was short and he couldn’t afford to hang around Fishman Island. He couldn’t wait for every single straggler—he had to get Lord Karl’s mission done first.

“Zack and I will go ahead.”

“Brynn, you follow us out next.”

Then he looked over at Norman, the one who’d asked him to wait.

“Cassia and Norman—”

“You two stay here to wait for the latecomers.”

“If the crowd gets too big, Cassia, you lead part of them over.”

“If it’s just a few, the two of you gather everyone up and set out together.”

Still uneasy, Krell gave some final instructions.

“Got all that?”

“Don’t worry, Lord Krell.”

“See you on Cake Island!”

They put their right hands in together, sharing a firm nod. At this time, Fishmen were more united than ever—most had been forced onto Fishman Street only recently. Almost everyone still knew each other, and bitter rivalries hadn’t taken root yet.

“Let’s go!”

Krell led the way, with Zack right behind him.

“Stick with us!”

Tens of thousands of Fishmen followed Krell, swimming straight for Cake Island.

After Krell left, Cassia turned to Norman, sounding a bit uncertain.

“Are we really going through with this…?”

Norman challenged Cassia right back.

“What other choice do we have?”

“With more and more of us every day, there’s no way Fishman Street can hold everyone anymore.”

“If there’s a real chance at a better life, why not take it?”

Norman watched their friends swim away, sighing softly. Somehow, he looked much older all of a sudden.

He was right. If there’d been another choice, things would never have come to this. No one wanted to see their own people scraping by and living in fear every single day.

Just an hour after Krell left, the place filled up with Fishmen once again.

Brynn knew it was his turn.

“Alright, I’m heading out next. You two better keep up.”

Cassia and Norman kept nagging Brynn—he was the youngest among them. If he got lost, at least the folks behind could help, which was why he left second.

“Safe travels!”

“Be careful out there.”

Cassia gave his chest a thump, looking totally confident.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’m off!”

A few more hours passed.

There was no one else coming from farther away.

Cassia and Norman exchanged a silent look, then led the rest out from Fishman Island.

“Yeah!”

By the end, three waves had gone out, nearly 390,000 strong. At the start of the original story, Fishmen didn’t have this much influence, but right now—fresh off their forced relocation—the numbers were staggering.

It was an exodus. These Fishmen were willing to risk everything for a better future for the next generation.