Inside the captain's cabin, Captain Jim gently caressed the newly acquired sea chart, fingers tracing its inked lines as if stroking a lover's skin.
With this, he could finally set sail for the Grand Line.
He'd had enough of this damned East Blue.
The Grand Line was a pirate's true paradise.
Once he got there, he could plunder at will, hunt for treasure to his heart's content, and no longer have to tiptoe around the Marines.
Suddenly, the entire ship shuddered.
Caught off guard, Jim staggered, barely catching himself on the table. A vicious light flashed in his eyes.
Those idiots…
He carefully rolled up the chart and locked it inside a treasure chest, treating it with far more care than he'd ever shown a human life.
Only then did he withdraw his Devil Fruit ability from around the captain's room and step out with a dark, brooding expression.
"Is anyone still alive out there? Who's going to tell me what the hell just happened?!"
His roar echoed through the corridor.
No answer.
From not far away, however, he caught the faint noise of rowdy chatter. The killing intent in his eyes flickered and slowly receded.
He followed the stairs up toward the deck and kicked through the railing with a single stomp, bellowing:
"What the hell are you morons doing? Didn't you feel the ship shaking just now?!"
He didn't even consider the possibility of an attack.
In an emergency, the lookout or someone on duty would've rushed to report it.
Given that no one had done so, odds were it was just some drunk making a scene.
Whoever it is, if I catch him, I'll peel his skin off, Jim thought coldly.
The noisy atmosphere on deck quieted instantly.
Everyone looked up.
Feeling his authority still firmly in place, Jim's scowl eased slightly.
He looked down from the higher platform, about to demand an explanation—
When his pupils shrank.
There were streaks of blood on the deck.
The air was thick with the metallic stench of it.
The food and wine were barely touched.
Most importantly—
All those faces looking up at him…
Those eyes, staring straight at him—
were empty.
Mutiny?
On the sea, such things weren't rare.
To prevent that very outcome, he'd purposely encouraged several factions among his crew—letting them hate each other, fight in the shadows.
Without his suppression, they'd have drawn steel at each other's throats long ago.
How could this pack of idiots possibly work together?
When did it start?
How did they do it?
And more importantly—
How dare they?
Jim's gaze finally settled on Vice-captain Duke—his trusted man.
A competent fighter, despised by everyone, with no followers of his own.
If something happened, why didn't this idiot report it?
Did he not realize that everything he had—his status, his authority—came from Jim?
Without him, Duke was nothing.
"Duke. What the hell is going on?"
But the one who stepped forward to answer—
was not Duke.
It was the boy in animal-hide clothing standing behind him.
The youth walked out slowly, a cold grin tugging at his lips. The look in his eyes made Jim frown.
"You're even slower than I thought."
Jim scanned the crowd.
No one interrupted.
No one corrected the boy.
It was as if they silently acknowledged him as their representative.
"Who are you?" Jim's expression darkened. "Who sent you? What's your goal?"
Unpleasant premonitions crept up his spine.
Faces flashed through his mind—enemies, rival pirates, bounty hunters—
But he dismissed them all one by one.
"I'm just a simple hunter," the boy said calmly. "Nobody sent me. As for what I want…"
Davy narrowed his eyes. A killing cold glinted within them.
"…A life for a life. That's only fair."
"You want to kill me?" Jim burst out laughing. "Just you?"
Davy wasn't impatient. His tone stayed almost lazy.
"Of course I can't kill you alone. But…"
"I don't care what you promised them," Jim cut him off, raising his pistol. "You really think they can kill me?"
The dark muzzle pointed straight at Davy's chest.
"I know you're strong," Davy said, unfazed.
In truth, he had never planned on a straightforward head-on fight.
The only reason he'd been talking this long was to buy time.
And now—
Time was up.
A thunderous rumble boomed from beneath the ship.
Cracks spread outward like serpents along the hull, racing across the deck in the blink of an eye.
The pirate ship groaned like a dying beast. Under the weight of the sea, it split cleanly in half.
The two halves of the deck rose sharply, like twin cliffs stabbing into the ocean.
Masts toppled.
Waves crashed in.
The entire ship began to sink at frightening speed.
What—
Jim's heart clenched.
He looked around.
In the churning waters around the breaking ship, dozens of bodies surfaced and sank with the waves—
All of them his crewmen.
The same pirates who, moments ago, had been drinking and shouting on deck—
All dead.
He jerked his head back toward the splitting deck, icy dread running up his spine.
The deck—
was empty.
No one remained.
It was as if everything earlier had been an illusion.
From start to finish, he was the only living person left on this ship.
"Ghosts? A sea demon?"
His mind trembled.
He slapped himself hard across the face.
The swollen, burning pain confirmed it—this was real.
"Damn it…"
He didn't dare hesitate any longer and dashed back inside the sinking hull—
But the spot where the lifeboat should have been was completely empty.
Gone.
He slumped down, legs giving out beneath him.
A terrible thought surfaced in his mind.
Vengeful spirits… here to claim my life?
Water surged higher with each passing second. The ship was on the verge of being swallowed whole.
Grinding his teeth, Jim forced his body to move. He pried loose a plank and climbed on.
So what if they were vengeful ghosts?
They couldn't kill him when they were alive—why should he fear them dead?
Just as he was about to paddle clear of the wreckage, something struck from below.
The plank beneath his feet jolted violently.
The tip of a blade burst up through the wood, splitting it in half before he could even react.
"Bastard! Die!"
Bullets spat from his gun in rapid succession, tearing into the water and kicking up white sprays. He fired again and again, only stopping when the gun clicked empty.
Breathing hard, he stared at the surface—
Not a single trace of blood.
Another blade flashed upward from beneath the waves, arcing straight for his neck. Jim leaned back desperately, barely avoiding the strike.
In the spray of seawater, he finally caught a glimpse of his attacker's face.
It was the first mate—
the same corpse that had floated past him just moments ago.
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