"Jim, are you insane?! Do you have any idea why you can roam around plundering freely right now? Who do you think is covering for you? Without me, you'd be chased like a dog by the Marines all over the sea! Is that what you want—every Marine branch hunting you down?!"
Once the initial shock wore off, Captain Nezumi quickly regained his tongue.
He slammed a palm against the table and shot to his feet, face dark as ink as he roared, "Go on then! Shoot! Let's see if you can get away after killing me!"
His shrill voice echoed around the cabin—loud, but hollow, like a rat baring its teeth behind a wall.
Jim didn't respond.
Instead, he stood up and silently stepped aside.
The one who had been quietly standing beside him—Davy—walked past and took the main seat at the table, face expressionless.
Nezumi's eyes went wide at the sight.
He looked from Jim…
to Davy…
and back again.
Finally, his gaze stuck to the young man.
"You… took over the Jim Pirates?"
It was the only explanation he could think of to justify why Jim was standing behind this boy like a subordinate.
"That's not important," Davy said lightly, tapping a knuckle against the table. "We're talking about you."
"Who the hell are you? What do you want? You've heard of my name, haven't you?" Nezumi's tone shifted quickly, oily and coaxing. "If there's something you're unhappy with, we can negotiate."
Now he was truly afraid.
Unlike seasoned pirates hardened by years at sea, hot-blooded rookies were the most unpredictable. They didn't care about consequences, only babbling about "One Piece" and "Pirate King" like they were invincible.
If they went to die in the Grand Line, that was their business.
But Captain Nezumi still had plenty of luxury and corruption left to enjoy—he had no intention of dying here.
"I heard," Davy said slowly, eyes narrowing. "You don't just provide protection. You sell information too. That 'jackpot' Jim hit a few days ago… came from you, didn't it?"
He ground his teeth slightly when he said "jackpot."
Nezumi brightened instantly.
So it wasn't some brainless rookie after all—just another "smart" pirate.
He nodded repeatedly, grinning until his eyes nearly vanished.
"Yes, that's right. I have plenty of information like that. As long as you keep your mouth shut, I'll share it all with you. You raid the targets, and we split the profits fifty-fifty."
Davy's face darkened.
Nezumi's heart lurched.
He hurried on, panicking, "Others are getting seventy-thirty, mind you. I get seven, they get three. You can ask Jim if you don't believe me. Fifty-fifty is already a huge concession for me. I have to handle the aftermath, suppress rumors, bribe the higher-ups, feed a whole flock of subordinates…"
The anger burning in Davy's eyes only grew, killing intent rolling off him in waves.
Seeing that, Nezumi gritted his teeth and shouted, "Fine! You seven, I three! That's my final offer. If you're still not satisfied, then just kill me!"
He wasn't lying.
This was truly his limit. Even then, he'd have to pay out of pocket to keep things quiet. And if this kid got greedy and killed too many people, there was no guarantee Nezumi could cover it up.
Not that he planned to use his own money, of course.
This was just what you did when the roof was caving in—you bowed your head.
If the boy agreed, Nezumi already had a dozen ways in mind to make him spit it all back up.
He wouldn't kill him—
After all, with Arlong gone, Nezumi was desperately short on disposable muscle.
But he would show this brat what "Marine authority" truly meant.
The more he thought about it, the more smug he felt.
At the same time, irritation simmered.
What are those idiots outside doing? I've been yelling this long—why has no one come to check? When it's time to split the loot they're faster than anyone, but when it's critical they're completely useless!
"Haaah—"
Across the table, Davy took a deep breath.
He'd been shaking with rage moments ago, but as Nezumi kept talking, his expression slowly… calmed.
His dark eyes locked onto the Marine captain's face, cold and bottomless.
"Sounds like you're in a hurry," Davy said softly. "Waiting for your men?"
Nezumi's heart skipped a beat.
Before he could answer, Davy went on:
"'Deal'? I was just confirming the facts."
He smiled then—slowly, baring white teeth.
"From the start, I never planned on letting you go. The only question was how you'd die."
Nezumi's face drained of color.
He finally abandoned all hesitation and flipped the table violently.
Using the moment's cover, he lunged for the door.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack! You idiots, get in here and save me!"
"Shhk—"
"Aaahhhh!!"
Steel sliced through fabric and flesh. Nezumi screamed at the top of his lungs.
It had been a very, very long time since he'd last been hurt.
But even so—
To live, he forced himself forward, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Ten steps left.
Nine.
A scorching bullet slammed into his back.
Eight.
A blade flashed so close it shaved his scalp raw—and took his right arm clean off.
By the time he reached the door, Nezumi's body was riddled with seven bullet wounds and five deep cuts. His right arm was gone, his back a crosshatch of bloody slashes.
But he made it.
I'm saved…!
With his remaining left hand, he shoved the door open.
Hope flared desperately in his eyes—
Then went out just as quickly.
The warship's deck was a wreck.
Bodies lay everywhere.
Marine bodies.
Only Marine bodies.
Blood flowed like streams, pooling across the boards and staining the deck a slick, dark red.
Reflected in that pool of blood were clusters of eerie, greenish flames—each the size of a fist, hovering silently above corpses.
Nezumi finally couldn't stand anymore. He collapsed at the threshold, legs giving out entirely.
The scene before him…
was hell.
Tap, tap.
Footsteps echoed softly behind him.
As Davy stepped out, the ghost fires floating over the corpses stirred—as if baby swallows returning to the nest.
One after another, they flew past Nezumi and plunged into the space between Davy's brows, vanishing without a trace.
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