Just as Marine Headquarters was holding an emergency strategy meeting over Arthur's rampage at Enies Lobby,
one of the seven scolded vice admirals—Doberman—stormed back to his office, seething with frustration.
He'd just spent hours being roasted alive in that meeting, and the anger had nowhere to go.
So when the den-den mushi rang, he picked it up with barely contained fury.
"Vice Admiral Doberman, sir! It's me—just calling to ask about that escaped convict from Impel Down. Arthur, right?
What's his bounty up to now? Heard he caused total chaos down there! Must be strong, huh?"
At that, Doberman's temple vein bulged.
"Strong? Strong my ass! He's just a flashy brat! A fake! Mark my words—one day I'll personally drag him in!"
Click!
He slammed the receiver down so hard the den-den mushi winced.
On the other end of the line, a rough-looking man with a patchy beard broke into a wicked grin.
"A fake, huh? Then he's fair game."
His name was Hoodbeard, a well-known bounty hunter with more ego than brains.
In his mind, if a Marine vice admiral said Arthur was nothing special,
then this "so-called monster" was just another payday.
The next day, the new bounty posters came out.
When Hoodbeard saw Arthur's number, his jaw dropped.
510,000,000 Berries.
"Holy crap!" he cackled, nearly foaming at the mouth. "A five-hundred-million berry bounty! The gods are smiling on me!"
By the time he spotted Arthur's group at Sabaody, his brain was already gone—replaced by greed.
To him, Arthur wasn't a person. He was a walking treasure chest.
And so, the hunt began.
"Captain, something's off."
Redfield's tone was casual, but his crimson eyes narrowed.
He'd felt those slimy, hungry gazes trailing them for a while now.
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
He'd been in good spirits, humming to himself, but upon extending his Observation Haki, he smiled faintly.
"Heh. Seems we've got a few flies following us."
"What do you want to do?"
"Simple," Arthur said with a grin. "If they want to deliver money to my door, who am I to refuse?"
The two exchanged knowing looks and casually turned down a quieter street, heading toward the coast.
"Boss, they're heading toward the shoreline."
"Perfect," Hoodbeard hissed, eyes gleaming. "They're isolating themselves. Everyone, circle around!
Once I take out their legs with a few shots, you move in and finish it. Quick and clean!"
His men nodded, moving through the brush with practiced stealth.
Clearly, this wasn't their first ambush.
Within minutes, they had Arthur and Redfield surrounded.
On the sand, the two pirates stood side by side, seemingly relaxed—looking out at the ocean as if sightseeing.
"They look distracted," one of the hunters whispered.
"Who cares? It's a perfect setup!" Hoodbeard said, trembling with excitement. "Get ready!"
He raised his pistol, took aim, and—
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Four shots, clean and fast—each one aimed precisely at Arthur's limbs.
All four hit their mark.
Or rather—they should have.
Arthur didn't even move.
The bullets passed straight through his body—
puff, puff, puff, puff—
—but there was no blood.
Only flickering arcs of lightning, crackling softly where the bullets had entered.
The bounty hunters froze.
"Wh… what the hell?"
"Why isn't he bleeding?"
The faint smell of ozone filled the air as Arthur turned toward them, smiling.
That smile chilled them to the bone.
"Ability user…" one of the hunters gasped, realization dawning too late.
"Now you notice?" Arthur said quietly.
He stepped forward—
—and vanished.
Zzzt—!!
A blinding flash of lightning erupted through the group.
A thunderclap cracked across the beach, sand whipping up like a storm.
When the dazed hunters finally regained their senses,
their clothes were scorched, hair smoking, and Arthur stood in front of them—hand gripping Hoodbeard's throat.
"Wha—!?"
They stumbled backward in horror.
This wasn't a man.
This was a god of thunder.
Hoodbeard's eyes bulged as Arthur tossed him to the ground like a rag doll.
Thud!
The bounty hunter coughed and wheezed, clutching his neck, gasping desperately for air.
"Now then," Arthur said softly, his tone colder than the sea breeze.
"Mind telling me what you were planning to do?"
His gaze swept over them, sharp as a blade.
Every man in the circle felt the temperature drop.
Finally, Hoodbeard stammered out the truth—
how he'd tracked them, the tip-off from Doberman, the plan to ambush for the bounty.
By the time he finished, Arthur and Redfield were both struggling not to laugh.
"You idiots…" Arthur chuckled. "You really thought you could take me for five hundred million?"
Redfield smirked, hand already resting on his sword.
"Captain, should I handle it?"
"Go ahead."
"Wait—wait, don't kill me!" Hoodbeard shrieked, panicking. "I—I've got something! A treasure map! A real one! From the New World!
I'll give it to you! Just please—don't kill me!"
At that, Arthur paused, raising an eyebrow.
"A treasure map, you say?"
He gestured for Redfield to stop.
"Alright," Arthur said, smiling with faint amusement. "Let's see it."
The man fumbled frantically through his coat, hands shaking, cursing his luck.
Five minutes ago, he'd thought he'd struck gold.
Now, he realized he'd just jumped headfirst into his own grave.
The gods hadn't blessed him after all.
They'd been laughing at him from the start.
He hadn't found a jackpot.
He'd capsized in the gutter.
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