Loguetown Marine Branch.
Major Herman stood on the balcony, bottle of rum in hand, gazing toward the city.
The earth-shaking clashes of last night were gone.
The pillars of flame had dimmed.
Only a silent, suffocating darkness remained.
He hadn't slept a single minute.
When dawn finally bled across the sky, turning the horizon scarlet, the knock he'd been dreading arrived.
"Enter."
A soldier hurried inside, saluted sharply, and as expected—came to report the situation outside.
"R-Report… they… they're all dead."
Herman frowned, irritation surfacing.
"Speak clearly. Who is dead?"
"T-The pirates…"
Herman exhaled slowly.
As expected.
The Barto Club was strong—extremely strong.
With Bartolomeo and his Devil Fruit guarding them, even the Marines usually chose not to provoke them.
For them to crush the pirates wasn't surprising.
He nodded, ready to dismiss the soldier so he could handle the aftermath personally—
when the soldier gulped a breath and continued,
"A-And the Barto Club… they're dead too."
"What?!"
Herman whipped around so violently his neck cracked.
Ignoring the pain, he strode forward and seized the soldier by the collar.
"Explain yourself! The Barto Club was wiped out too? What about Bartolomeo?! With him there, who could annihilate them?!
What kind of pirate could do this?!"
"N-No… not pirates…"
The soldier's voice choked as he tapped desperately at Herman's arm, nearly suffocating.
Only then did the major release him.
"Pirates and the Barto Club were both slaughtered," the soldier said, gasping. "It was a bounty hunter. He's outside now, asking for the reward."
"A bounty hunter…?"
Herman's voice cracked upward.
The first person that came to mind was the "Strongest Bounty Hunter of the East Blue," Roronoa Zoro—
but he quickly dismissed the thought.
That demon swordsman had bafflingly joined a pirate crew, and from the reports Smoker chased, Zoro was with them.
"Name. Where is he now?"
"He said he's called Davy, and he's waiting at the execution plaza."
Execution Square
By now, the square was overflowing with townspeople.
Their own neighborhoods had been spared major fighting; the battles raged mostly in the entertainment district and near the docks.
But fear had kept them inside all night.
At dawn, those brave enough to return to work caught sight of long, crimson drag marks across the streets.
One person followed them…
then another…
and before they realized it, a crowd formed and converged on the execution grounds.
"Move aside!"
"Clear a path!"
Marine voices barked commands, forcing the crowd apart.
A column of Marines jogged through—
Herman leading at their head.
When he finally stepped into the open plaza, his breath caught in his throat.
"Wha—"
His pupils contracted sharply.
The first thing that filled his vision was the massive, blood-soaked character painted across the ground:
Death
Behind it—
A mountain of corpses.
All headless.
On top of the execution platform, a young man in a neatly tailored black suit sat casually on the edge, legs swinging.
The guillotine behind him was drenched in dried scarlet.
The heads—
Frozen in masks of terror—
were piled so high they nearly reached the platform itself.
The Marines behind Herman faltered, legs turning to jelly.
Some couldn't bring themselves to step forward at all.
"A… a monster…"
"He did all this? And he claims to be a bounty hunter…?"
Even though the dead were pirates and gangsters, the sight shook them to their bones.
Herman swallowed down the instinct to flee and forced himself onward.
Davy noticed them approaching.
He dusted off his suit and stood, overlooking the Marines with an easy smile.
"I am Major Herman, currently acting commander of the Loguetown Marine Branch."
Hearing the identity, Davy's eyes flickered.
Not Smoker?
So the man really chased Straw Hat out to sea.
No Buggy incident, no raucous last laugh reminiscent of the Pirate King…
Yet destiny hadn't changed much after all.
"You are?" Herman repeated, voice a touch too sharp. "And what do you want here?"
"Davy. Bounty hunter."
He paused, letting the tension thicken—
then grinned down at Herman.
"And obviously—I'm here to collect the bounty."
"You did this?"
Herman's voice shot up involuntarily.
He still couldn't reconcile the harmless-looking young man with the mountain of corpses.
"If not me, then was it you lot?"
Davy smiled, but his eyes chilled instantly.
He knew the Marines had a habit of stealing credit in the original timeline.
If they tried it with him, he wouldn't mind making this skull mound a bit taller.
Herman's face twitched.
He had ordered his men to stay inside all night.
They had no idea what even happened outside—
and certainly weren't responsible for the massacre.
"…Where is Bartolomeo?"
The question was half diversion, half genuine dread.
Bartolomeo was infamous—
feral, vindictive, and cruel.
Anyone who harmed his subordinates faced ruthless retaliation.
And the man was strong—dangerously so.
If he had survived last night, even Herman's Marines might be in grave danger.
"Oh, him."
Davy slapped his forehead theatrically, walked behind the guillotine, bent down briefly—
And then casually tossed something over the edge like discarded trash.
Herman followed the falling arc with his eyes—
And froze.
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