After finishing a full day of training,
Arthur finally took a short break.
After all—
Work and rest should go hand in hand.
Suddenly—
"Die!"
A pirate delivering coffee abruptly lunged at Arthur with a dagger, its blade coated in Armament Haki, aiming straight for his throat.
Crack!
Arthur crushed the dagger with a single hand. Looking up, his fingers flicked forward—cleanly manicured nails slicing across the attacker's throat.
"Hmph."
The pirate's face contorted in pain. He struggled for a few seconds before collapsing, completely lifeless.
Arthur calmly caught the nearly spilled coffee, gave the man a glance, then sat back down and took a sip. With one hand, he grabbed the corpse by the collar and flung it into the sea.
Ssshhh—
If someone could see inside Arthur's body, they'd notice:
The moment the coffee reached his stomach, it was instantly digested.
Even the poison mixed into it didn't have a chance to activate before it was completely neutralized.
A Red Dragon's stomach... was no shit.
Naturally, it possessed such overwhelming power.
"Mmm~"
Arthur closed his eyes slightly, savoring this brief moment of peace. A little rest now and then wasn't so bad.
"Hmm?"
Beside him, Shakky had witnessed the whole thing and was now jotting something down in her small notebook.
Arthur teased with interest,
"Shakky, are you planning to sell intel about me?"
Snap!
Shakky finished writing, closed her notebook, and shook her head:
"Selling your intel is pointless. Yours changes too fast. It's so bizarre and unstable that I can't even keep up. Still, I figured I should keep a record... in case someone pays good money for it in the future."
"Hahaha."
Arthur chuckled,
"Now that's the Shakky I know. Always a shrewd businesswoman."
She nodded confidently.
"Of course. Business is business."
Arthur just smiled.
That really was Shakky to the core.
---
"Die!"
"You bastard!"
Out of nowhere, several pirates charged in from all directions, wielding weapons of all shapes and sizes. Their goal? Kill Arthur right here.
Arthur remained calm.
He stood, made his move, and effortlessly dispatched every last one of them.
Then, as before, he tossed the corpses into the sea and returned to his seat.
The whole process—
Smooth. Swift. Fluid.
In fact, it was so clean and practiced it was almost unsettling.
Why was he so good at this?
Clearly—
This wasn't the first time.
It had now been nine days since Arthur had returned from his mission.
Starting from the second day, ambushes like this had become routine.
Assassination. Poisoning. Surprise attacks. Group assaults.
Every underhanded trick imaginable had come his way.
Just like what Captain Rocks emphasize:
If you've obtained treasure on this ship—let's see if you can hold onto it.
Over the past nine days—
Arthur had been through everything:
His own crewmates, calling him "Bro" one minute, then pulling weapons the next.
Pirates from other divisions arrogantly trying to take his head—only to end up at the bottom of the sea.
Even some of the lower-ranking officers had joined the ambush attempts.
It got to the point where even members of the elite 600-man unit joined the fray.
In one word:
Chaos.
Utter chaos.
Everyone knew Arthur had gained something big from that last mission.
And in this world, fortune is earned through risk.
Compared to the terrifying top officers, whom most wouldn't dare cross,
Arthur looked like a more "reasonable" target.
He could be beaten—right?
With that mindset,
A bloody, frenzied assassination campaign began.
---
"Hup!"
CRASH!
Out of nowhere, a massive sword came sweeping in.
Arthur flipped backward with ease, lightly touching the tip of his finger to the chair beneath him, and gracefully avoided the strike.
As he landed, he brought his foot down—
Slamming the blade to the deck with a thud.
"Oi!"
"It's the middle of the night! Even if you don't need sleep, I still do!"
Arthur sighed in annoyance.
This was what frustrated him the most.
Whether he was eating or trying to rest,
They just wouldn't stop.
Give me a break already.
He was already worn out from brutal daily training.
Why did these idiots keep throwing themselves at him?
"Tch! Brat! This is only the beginn—"
Shunk!
Arthur casually decapitated him mid-sentence,
and tossed the headless body into the sea.
"Ugh. Spare me the cliché villain lines. Its oveused."
Turning around, Arthur headed for the cabin.
Inside the ship—
Eyes gleamed with crimson light in the shadows.
He didn't need to guess.
Tonight… was far from over.
---
"Mmm~~~"
Shakky noted it all down, muttering to herself:
"Arthur seems to have grown even stronger… Just nine days, and the difference is clear. Is this man even human? Is he… actually some kind of alien breed?"
"Tch."
Kaido, who'd been standing nearby, let out a cold grunt.
He had planned to rest—but now?
Forget it.
He turned and headed back to train.
This was unacceptable.
They were both apprentice crew members.
Roughly the same age.
And yet… he still wasn't Arthur's match?
Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable.
Driven by this frustration, Kaido began training again.
Meanwhile, Arthur returned to his room.
It was time to rest.
No matter how powerful, even dragons needed sloth to balance their gluttony.
And Arthur—
Had inherited both traits perfectly.
-----------------///
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