But you had to hand it to him—this Sand Bandit King wasn't completely without skill. The moment he stepped off his ship, he locked onto Jora as his first target. He remembered with crystal clarity that when he'd announced his title "Sand Bandit King," Jora had laughed the hardest.
Hefting his spiked club, he brought it down on Jora with what looked like tremendous force—only for Jora to block the attack with a single blade, effortlessly, not moving an inch.
"That's all you've got, and you dare call yourself Sand Bandit King? Are you trying to make me laugh myself to death?"
Jora flicked his blade upward, sending the man flying backward. He crashed straight into his own ship and punched a hole clean through the hull.
Isn't that a little too violent? Shirakawa watched Jora's handiwork, feeling a touch of helplessness. The ship had a hole in it now—could they even use it anymore?
"Captain!" Seeing their captain sent flying, the crew cried out in alarm. How was this possible? The captain they worshipped like a god had been beaten in an instant.
That was when one of their members suddenly shouted in panic, "I know who they are!"
"Who are they?" Seeing the terror on their comrade's face, a bad feeling crept into their hearts.
"They're the Silver Pirate Crew! That captain with the one-billion-bounty, the great pirate!"
"What?" At those words, utter panic set in. One by one, their gazes snapped toward Shirakawa, and the image of his wanted poster surfaced in their minds.
Noticing everyone staring at him, Shirakawa put on what he thought was a very friendly smile. What he didn't realize was that, in their eyes, it looked like a demon's grin.
"How is this possible? Why would people like that come here?"
With their captain—the pillar of their morale—now unconscious, they had no idea what to do.
"Captain, what now?" Seeing that their opponents had completely lost the will to fight, Yuristin asked Shirakawa. Against people with no fighting spirit, he didn't even want to bother drawing his blade.
"Leave none alive," Shirakawa answered flatly.
It was about time they displayed some of the ruthlessness expected of pirates.
"Understood."
The words leave none alive sent absolute terror through the Sand Bandits. The moment they'd learned the Silver Pirate Crew's identity, they'd already known they stood no chance.
"Everyone split up and run! I refuse to believe that with this many of us, they can kill us all!"
"Yeah, scatter! They're only a handful of people—there's dozens of us! No way we all end up dead here!"
In a flash, all the Sand Bandits agreed. They scattered, fleeing in every direction.
"Not exactly smart. But still useless."
Since the captain had given the order, there was no way these men were leaving alive.
Saral multiplied his speed several times over. Not a single man could stand before him for even a second. Yuristin and Jora, too, got just a little more serious.
These Sand Bandits, barely stronger than ordinary people, were naturally no match for them.
"Devils… they're devils…"
The handful of survivors stared at Shirakawa and his crew with eyes full of sheer terror. By now, they didn't even want to run anymore.
Just moments ago, they'd numbered in the dozens. Now only a few of them were left.
"In your next life, be reborn as decent people."
Those were the last words they heard before losing consciousness.
"Captain, mission accomplished. Every last one dealt with."
"Well done." From start to finish, Shirakawa hadn't moved from his camel. His crew had cleaned up that trash without much effort at all.
"Looks like this ship is useless now, though."
Yuristin tinkered with the sand ship for a while, but it wouldn't budge an inch.
"Hmph, what a piece of junk. One hole and it's done for."
Jora looked at the sand ship with utter contempt. He was very much trying to shift the blame onto the ship's build quality—after all, that hole was his doing.
"Check how much water's left on board and bring it all down. You all worked up a bit of a sweat just now."
Just then, a cool little breeze stirred.
"Tsss… This breeze really knows how to pick its moment." Jora shivered.
He might not fear ordinary low temperatures anymore, but he was covered in hot sweat, and the breeze was cool. The contrast hit his body a little too sharply.
"Yeah, this breeze feels really good."
Yuristin agreed with what Jora had just said.
But the breeze was starting to show signs of picking up—growing fiercer by the second.
Then, in the same instant, Shirakawa, Jora, Yuristin, and Kurokamu all stiffened. Their eyes shot toward the right front. A violent gale erupted around them out of nowhere.
Sand kicked up by the wind swallowed their field of vision.
Shirakawa immediately unfurled his Saint Domain. This was no ordinary wind. It felt… man-made.
After the dust storm passed, a lone figure stood before them. The person wore a hooded cloak, the hood large enough to obscure their face completely. Still, from what they could sense, it was a young man around twenty years old.
"Who are you?"
Jora asked, his expression grim. He could feel that this person was no pushover—there was a faint sense of threat aimed at him.
"You're the Silver Pirate Crew?"
Instead of answering Jora's question, the stranger directed his words at Shirakawa and the others.
"That's right. Who are you?"
This time, it was Shirakawa who spoke.
"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm here to challenge you. Do you dare accept? Silver Sword, Adolf K. Shirakawa."
"Such a big mouth for a nameless nobody daring to challenge our captain. No need for the captain to lift a finger—I'll accept your challenge!"
Jora moved to draw his sword and charge out, but a large hand suddenly grabbed him by the back of the collar and yanked him back.
"I'll do it."
The one who spoke was Kurokamu. He'd taken a bit of an interest in this young man before them. He hadn't even sensed how the man had arrived right in front of them.
His instincts told him: this was a strong one.
Shirakawa didn't stop either of them.
"Old man, the one I'm challenging isn't you. It's your captain."
Seeing Kurokamu step forward to fight, the young man sounded a little exasperated.
"I'll be your opponent. If you can't even beat me, what right do you have to challenge our captain?"
"Fine. If you put it that way, old man, then refusing to fight would just be rude to you."
As soon as the words left his mouth, his figure vanished from their sight. Shirakawa instantly expanded his Saint Domain, shielding all his comrades within it.
"Captain, do we really need to be this cautious?" Jora asked, puzzled.
"If I'm not mistaken, he's a Logia-type Devil Fruit user. Unless you all want to eat a mouthful of sand, feel free to step outside."
"Hard pass." At that, Jora immediately shrank back obediently inside Shirakawa's Saint Domain.
/-\
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