The deck was ablaze with lights.
A huge bonfire roared in the center, spitting flames sky-high. On iron spits above the blaze, several nameless sea-beast haunches slowly turned. Fat dripped onto the coals with a sizzle, sending mouth-watering aromas across the deck.
"Drink! Every last one of you drink!"
The one-eyed giant at the head of the table hoisted a tankard the size of a bucket. Rum sloshed over the rim and ran through his thick beard in amber streams.
He was the Captain of the Rabid Shark, "Bone-Smasher" Buck, wanted for twelve million Berries.
"Captain, we hit the jackpot this time!"
A scrawny, monkey-faced pirate scurried forward, all smiles. "The brats we grabbed are prime stock. That black-haired one's a real looker send him to the auction houses on Sabaody Archipelago and we'll clear at least this much!"
He waggled five grubby fingers.
"Five million?" Buck hiccupped and kicked the scrawny pirate sprawling. "You worthless worm! Make it eight! And I don't like that boy's eyes have someone cut his tendons before we sell him. He'll fetch a prettier price."
"Y-yes, sir! Brilliant as always, Captain!"
Laughter erupted; cups clashed in drunken revelry.
On these seas, weakness was the only sin.
Selling people was no different from wolves eating sheep it was simply nature.
"Where's the damn food? Cook! Why's the soup not here?"
Buck slammed his empty cup onto the table; the deck trembled under his roar.
"Coming, coming! Don't worry, Captain!"
From the galley waddled a chef shaped like a ball, hugging a cauldron that could have bathed a child. Sweat poured off him.
"Special thick soup-extra kick!"
He set the iron pot in the center of the table; steam billowed up.
No one noticed the shadow that had slipped across the dim galley moments earlier.
A few crimson drops slid from the shadow's fingers into the bubbling broth.
The red dissolved instantly, leaving the soup richer, darker, and more tempting than ever.
"Smells good-damn good!"
Buck sniffed, grabbed the ladle, and filled a bowl to the brim.
Glug, glug.
Scalding soup slid down his throat; he wiped his mouth with satisfaction.
"What're you lot waiting for? Eat! There's plenty tonight!"
At the order, dozens of pirates swarmed the pot, tearing at meat and broth.
Even the lookouts left their posts for a bowl.
In less than ten minutes, the cauldron was scraped clean.
"Great stuff!"
The monkey-faced pirate leaned against the mast, picking his teeth. "That soup packed a punch feel it warming me bones."
"Cook's getting better!"
"Haha, I could punch an ox dead right now!"
The deck rang with rowdy voices, the party at its peak.
The joy did not last.
As Buck reached for another cup, his hand itched.
He scratched.
A strip of skin tore away in his fingers.
No blood only purple-black veins writhing like earthworms beneath.
"W-what is this…?"
Buck stared, drunk and dumbfounded.
A racking cough erupted from his lungs.
Hack, hack, hack!
Each spasm felt as if his lungs would burst.
"Captain, what's wrong?"
The scrawny pirate stepped closer, reaching out.
With a retch, Buck spewed a jet of black, viscous liquid into the man's face.
The fluid hissed against the deck, white smoke curling up.
"Aaaah! My eyes-my face!"
The scrawny pirate screamed, rolling and clawing at his melting skin.
But it was only beginning.
"Ugh… ah…"
"So hot… so hungry…"
Moans replaced laughter across the deck.
One after another, the soup-drinkers turned ashen, eyes bloodshot, necks corded with swollen black veins.
Bodies twisted into nightmares.
Fingernails lengthened, blackened, and curved like daggers.
Teeth fell away, replaced by fangs that split their lips.
Muscles ballooned, shredding shirts.
"H-help…"
The fat chef, slower thanks to his bulk, watched in horror as his crewmates dropped then rose again in broken, twitching shapes.
The scrawny pirate's shrieks cut short.
He stood slowly, half his face gone, white bone gleaming in the firelight.
The last eye held no flattery or greed, only the most primal, beast-like hunger.
"Roar"
Skinny Monkey let out a low snarl and lunged at the nearest pirate who hadn't fully turned.
Crack!
He sank his teeth into the man's neck.
Blood sprayed.
"Ahhh! Let go! I'm your second uncle!"
The pirate screamed, pounding Skinny Monkey's head, but soon his struggles weakened, replaced by the same spasms and snarls.
Chaos.
Complete chaos.
The deck of the Rabid Shark turned into a Shura field.
Pirates still mid-transformation were tackled and torn apart by the fully turned zombies.
Crimson soaked the deck; shrieks and chewing blended into a symphony of death.
[Ding! Detecting extreme fear nearby; Astonishment +10!]
[Ding! Detecting despair nearby; Astonishment +20!]
[Ding! Detecting extreme shock nearby; Astonishment +50!]
Down in the hold, Mordred listened to the steady pings in his mind, a cold curve lifting the corner of his lips.
"Looks like the banquet's begun."
He rose, dusting off his clothes.
The children in the cage were already dumb with terror, huddled together, too scared even to cry.
Mordred walked to the bars, his fingers wrapping around iron as thick as a thumb.
Blacklight Virus surged through him.
Screeech
Metal shrieked as it twisted.
The iron bent like noodles, tearing open a gaping hole.
"If you want to live, stay put and don't move."
He tossed the warning over his shoulder and headed for the stairs to the deck.
His steps were light, yet in the pandemonium they rang clear.
One step, two steps.
With each stair, the stench of blood grew thicker.
By now, only a handful of living men still stood on deck.
Captain Buck, after all, was formidable, his constitution far beyond ordinary.
Though he'd drunk the soup, his powerful Haki and physique held the virus at bay only his eyes were blood-red, his breathing ragged.
"Bastards! What the hell is happening!"
Buck swung his blade, cleaving a zombie pirate in half.
To his horror, the torso kept crawling, jaws snapping for his ankle.
"Monsters! All monsters!"
An icy dread he'd never known flooded him.
Twenty years at sea had shown him much, but never a hell like this.
Just then, the hatch to the hold creaked open.
A slim silhouette stepped out against the firelight.
The boy's white shirt was ragged, black bangs whipping in the sea wind.
Facing the scattered limbs and howling freaks, his face showed no fear only appreciation.
"Good evening, Captain."
Mordred strolled into the carnage, hands in his pockets.
A zombie caught the scent of the living and roared, hurling itself at him.
Buck sneered, expecting the brat to be torn apart then nearly popped his eyes out.
Thwip!
Without a glance, Mordred's right arm lashed out as a black-red whip-blade, lightning-fast.
The zombie exploded mid-air into a rain of gore.
The blood showered over Mordred, only to be absorbed into his skin in an instant.
He inhaled, features slack with pleasure.
The ecstasy of feeding.
"Tastes good."
He flicked his wrist; the whip retracted, returning to a pale human hand.
Lifting his gaze to the stunned Buck, he smiled.
"How do you like the appetizer?"
[Ding! Detecting extreme terror from Buck; Astonishment +100!]
Buck's sword hand shook.
At last he understood: the worst monster aboard wasn't those biting madmen.
It was the kid he'd treated as cargo.
"W-what are you?" he rasped, retreating step by step.
Mordred tilted his head, pondering.
The surrounding zombies sensed a sovereign and fell silent, shambling to form a loyal guard behind him.
Firelight stretched the boy's shadow across blood-soaked canvas like demon wings.
"Me?"
He chuckled and vanished.
The next instant, an icy whisper detonated at Buck's ear.
"I'm your… nightmare."