One day had passed since the merchant ship left Goat Island. Early in the morning, Kaos left his cabin and walked out onto the deck.
He took a deep breath of the salty sea breeze, letting it fill his lungs, and couldn't help but think of a line of poetry.
The sea you are in is all water.
In this vast and boundless ocean, merchant ships were nothing more than tiny flat boats drifting aimlessly.
For an entire day, they hadn't encountered a single pirate ship or even another passing vessel. Kaos, who had originally been eager to see pirates with his own eyes, found his expectations fading.
"It's not like watching anime," he muttered under his breath.
After enjoying the wind on deck for a while, Kaos, who wasn't especially fond of idle relaxation, decided to return to his small cabin.
Merchant ships had their own form of entertainment—gambling, drinking, and the like. But Kaos wasn't interested.
What did catch his attention, however, was the wealth this ship carried. His sharp sense of gold constantly reminded him of the abundance hidden within its holds.
Back in his quarters, Kaos began doing push-ups and other exercises. Training had become such a habit that missing even a single day left him feeling uncomfortable.
"A good habit to keep," he thought.
By noon, Kaos chipped off a sliver of gold—barely the size of a grain of rice—from his inner armor and went to the kitchen to trade it for some food.
After eating, he returned to his cabin, stretched out lazily, and prepared to nap. His plan was simple: rest now, train again after waking up.
But as soon as his head touched the pillow, he drifted into sleep.
In his dreams, Kaos felt as if he were lying in a cradle. Someone whispered softly in his ears, lulling him to sleep like a child being comforted.
Then, without warning, the cradle tilted violently, sending him crashing to the floor. His heart jolted with unease.
When his eyes snapped open, the entire merchant ship was shaking violently. From outside, he could faintly hear the thunder of cannons, the clash of steel, and the cries of battle.
Kaos hurried to the small round window, barely the size of a washbasin, and his eyes widened. Right beside them loomed a massive pirate ship, its sails flying a black flag emblazoned with a skull.
On its deck, dozens of pirates brandished sabers, muskets, and crude firearms, their faces twisted with bloodlust.
"Open the cannons!" someone roared.
"Don't let them get away!"
"Such a fat merchant ship must be loaded with treasure!"
The first volley of cannonballs screamed through the air.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Explosions rattled the hull as the merchant ship fired back, and in seconds, both sides were locked in a deadly exchange.
"Big surprise," Kaos muttered, eyes narrowing as a cannonball streaked directly toward his cabin. He didn't panic.
His golden body could withstand the impact of artillery if necessary. Still, better not to take the hit head-on.
He quickly opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it shut just as—
BOOM!
Flames and smoke burst through the cabin behind him. Holding the hatch with one hand, Kaos glanced at the panicked passengers fleeing in every direction.
His calmness stood in stark contrast to the chaos around him.
"Run!" someone screamed.
"The pirates are here!"
"We'll be safe—there are guards on this ship!"
"Damn it, my cargo! That's all my fortune!"
"Help me!"
As the cries of despair echoed, Kaos headed toward the deck to assess the situation.
Along the way, he passed rooms shattered by cannonfire. Flames consumed the wood, and through the gaping holes in the hull, the raging sea surged against the ship.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and charred flesh. Limbs and torsos lay scattered grotesquely, and Kaos's brow furrowed slightly.
It was the first time he had seen human remains so close. The sight was disturbing, but his tolerance was remarkable—no nausea, no vomiting, just a cold, steady acceptance.
When he reached the lower deck, he found guards rushing through the corridors, armed with muskets and cutlasses.
Some passengers had taken up arms as well, displaying surprising agility.
Life and death left little room for hesitation—everyone who could fight, fought.
Among the chaos, Kaos spotted a peculiar sight: a massive woman, easily over 300 pounds, dressed in a stained chef's uniform.
She barreled forward wielding a boning knife nearly a meter long, her face twisted into a snarl.
A human tank.
If Kaos hadn't known better, he might have thought she was on her way to slaughter pigs. The sheer impact of her charge was enough to make anyone pause.
"Stay inside!" a guard shouted. "We'll protect you!"
"Don't block the passage! Guards, hold your ground!"
Despite their efforts, panic spread like wildfire.
Outside, the once-calm sea had become a battlefield. The pirate and merchant ships were now locked side by side, their decks awash with seawater stained crimson.
Pirates and guards clashed in brutal combat. Bodies fell, the waves tossing them mercilessly, while cannon blasts rocked both vessels.
"Kill these damn guards!" a pirate bellowed.
"Brothers, find the women! It's been too long!"
"Don't let them escape! We're the Fang Pirates!"
"Our captain is Balfour, with a bounty of 8.7 million Beli! Even the Navy gives him face!"
The fighting grew fiercer. Muskets cracked, blades clashed, and screams pierced the smoke-filled air.
Kaos stepped out onto the deck. The scene was chaos incarnate: pirates laughing maniacally, guards dying in agony, and bodies strewn across blood-soaked planks.
A bullet whizzed past his face, striking the wall behind him with a sharp crack. His eyelid twitched, his pulse quickening slightly.
"The merchant ship can't sink," he thought. "I need it to reach Water 7—or Sabaody Archipelago."
Not far ahead, a lone guard struggled against a pirate wielding a cutlass. The guard's smaller frame left him at a clear disadvantage. In seconds, his arm was severed, and he collapsed, screaming.
Kaos's finger twitched. A fragment of his golden inner armor broke free, reshaping itself into a sharp nail. It shot forward like lightning, piercing the back of the pirate's skull.
The man fell instantly, his brains spilling across the deck, his twitching body collapsing lifelessly beside the wounded guard.
To Kaos, it felt no different than crushing a chicken's neck.
The guard, pale and drenched in sweat, stared at him in stunned silence. Clutching his stump of an arm, he scrambled to cover, trembling with fear.
Kaos remained at the cabin entrance, his expression calm. Four more golden nails materialized in his hands, and under his hidden control, they flew through the chaos like the hands of death itself.
Faster than bullets, impossible to dodge—pirates dropped one after another, their screams lost in the roar of battle.
Some hardened veterans rolled aside or ducked behind cover, thinking they had escaped. But Kaos's nails curved mid-flight, guided by his will, striking down each target without mercy.
"Damn it! There's a strong fighter on this ship!" one pirate shouted.
"Defend yourselves!"
"Notify the captain!"
The pirates quickly pulled back, leaving behind dozens of corpses. The surviving guards regrouped, wary eyes watching the enemy. Both sides began exchanging long-distance fire, each waiting for the other to slip.
The atmosphere grew tense, the deck painted with blood and entrails, the carnage unbearable to look at.
The battle was far from over.