"I don't like taking cheap shots—there's no satisfying feeling of steel cutting through flesh." Zaraki flexed his stiff right shoulder with a flat tone.
"Your dynamic vision is good, so forget about stealing a few measly Beli. You should learn to blow the heads off anyone trying to kill me from a thousand meters away."
Carina froze, hugging the still-warm rifle as her fingertips traced the cold bolt.
In the past, she had navigated between various pirate crews by relying on petty theft and reading people's expressions.
No one had ever entrusted her with a weapon like this!
This was a gun that could decide life and death—one that could change the entire course of a battle.
"Don't worry!" The shock in Carina's eyes quickly burned into excitement, and she hugged the rifle stock tight as a sly glint flashed in her eyes.
"As long as I have enough stamina, anyone who dares approach the Captain will get their head blown wide open!"
'If I sold this thing... No, with this, think of all the money I could steal in the future!'
....
Three days later, after leaving Nami and Carina at the rear pier to haggle over supplies and having Zoro stay outside to watch the ship, Zaraki sat alone in a corner of the Baratie floating restaurant, idly swirling the ice water in his glass while wearing a massive coat to cover his body and face.
The midday sun spilled across the floorboards.
The air hung thick with the smell of fried fish and rum.
The noisy restaurant suddenly fell silent when the main door swung open, revealing several figures stepping inside as dark silhouettes against the bright light.
The youth taking the lead wore an orange cowboy hat adorned with a laughing-and-crying face trinket on its brim.
Being bare-chested, he radiated the sharp, untamed energy of a wild youth.
It was the captain of the Spade Pirates, Portgas D. Ace—a rookie who had rapidly risen to fame across the East Blue!
"Welcome, you bastards. What'll you have?"
A blond cook with curly eyebrows walked over with a cigarette dangling from his lips, his tone rude while his body remained tense.
From this hat-wearing youth, Sanji sensed a dangerous aura entirely different from that of ordinary pirates.
Up by the second-floor railing, the one-legged "Red-Leg" Zeff paused in polishing his peg leg, a sharp gleam flashing in his old eyes.
"The makings of Haoshoku Haki..." Zeff muttered to himself, his gaze lingering on Ace for a moment before sweeping toward Zaraki, who sat quietly drinking water in his corner.
'The waters of the East Blue had grown incredibly murky these past few days.'
"Hey, that's... the Spade Pirates!"
"Is that 'Fire Fist' Ace?"
The restaurant patrons finally caught on, and panicked exclamations erupted as many were so startled they dropped their cutlery to the floor.
Ace was used to such commotion, but just as he was about to find a seat, an even louder uproar suddenly exploded from outside!
The noise was coming straight from the direction of the docks.
"Oh my god! Look outside!"
"That's... the flagship of the Krieg Pirates!"
"It's Pirate Admiral Krieg! The ruler of the East Blue is here! Run!"
Blind panic instantly swept through the restaurant as patrons scrambled for the back door in a wild frenzy, leaving even Sanji and Zeff with grave expressions.
The Krieg Pirates, with their massive fleet of fifty warships, were the ultimate nightmare of these seas!
Yet Zaraki just sat by the window and let out a soft chuckle, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table.
"Ruler? More like a drowning dog now."
Proving his words, when the people finally looked out the window, they all froze in pure shock.
It was indeed the Krieg Pirates' fleet, but it had completely lost its imposing majesty!
Over a dozen ships were battered and broken, their sails torn to shreds and their hulls covered in deep scorch marks.
The flagship, the Dreadnaught Sabre, looked the worst of all—its mainmast was totally gone, and a massive, charred crater was punched clean through the side of its hull!
With each swell of the waves, the ship let out a sickening creak, sounding like it might fall apart at any moment.
"Did they... run into a storm?"
"What kind of joke is that?! What kind of storm could burn through steel decking like that?!"
The restaurant fell into a dead silence.
Even Ace, who had just sat down, stood right back up and walked to the window.
He pressed down the brim of his hat as his gaze locked onto the devastated flagship.
As a Mera Mera no Mi user, he was incredibly sensitive to the destruction caused by fire, and he knew those lingering traces were the clear result of an extremely concentrated, high-temperature force piercing straight through the metal in an instant.
"Interesting..." A wild grin spread across Ace's face, a heavy battle intent igniting in his eyes. "In a place like the East Blue, someone actually managed to beat Krieg that badly?"
He turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the restaurant before finally settling on Zaraki, who remained seated calmly in the corner.
That probing stare lingered on the swordsman for half a second before retracting, his instincts sensing a deep hidden danger.
Ace pressed down the brim of his hat again, turned back around, crossed his arms, and leaned against the window frame.
Watching the dense crowd outside, a faint smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
'Let's see what kind of waves these defeated dogs can still stir up first.'
Zaraki withdrew his gaze, his fingers lightly tracing the water droplets condensed on the outside of his glass.
The cool sensation traveled up his fingertips, calming the slight restlessness in his blood that flared up whenever he encountered a strong fighter.
He even had the leisure to pick up his fork, skewer a piece of leftover smoked ham from his plate, and pop it into his mouth.
This was the life!
Compared to that stamina-draining sniper shot three days ago that nearly emptied him out, sitting in the best seat to watch a show was a much better rhythm for a guy like him.
"Food... give us food..."
Outside on the dock, the pirates swarming down from the wrecked warship did not immediately launch an attack, as pure starvation had completely hollowed out their reason and their ferocity.
A man strapped with two massive iron shields—Pearl—lay sprawled on the pier like a dying dog, thick drool mixed with stomach acid trickling from the corner of his mouth.
His eyes were fixed solely on the warm, yellow light emanating from the restaurant.
"Commander... I can't go on..." Pearl's voice was weak, sounding like it was squeezed through the crack of hell's door.
"Shut up! Charge in! Kill all the cooks! Steal anything edible!"
Krieg's hoarse roar ripped from the deck of the shattered Dreadnaught Sabre.
Although Zaraki's shot had blasted his golden armor to pieces, he seemed to have dug out a spare set of heavy armor from his backup storage.
However, wearing it over a body covered in deep burns and bruises made him look utterly ridiculous—like a plucked peacock still desperately trying to fan its tail.
At this command, the group of pirates on the verge of total collapse seemed injected with a savage dose of survival instinct!
Hundreds of pairs of greenish, desperate eyes fixed intently on the restaurant door, their faces twisted by extreme hunger looking more terrifying than any horror movie monster.
"What a nuisance..."
Behind the counter, the old man with only one leg let out a heavy sigh as Zeff slowly untied his apron.
His clouded old eyes didn't look at the starving mob about to charge in from outside, instead, he looked past the crowd, focusing straight on Ace by the window.
"Hey, you brat." Zeff's voice wasn't loud, yet it cut clearly through the noisy room and reached everyone's ears.
"Since trouble followed you through my front door, you ought to do some work to settle it, right? If this place gets smashed up, you might as well take that curly-browed eggplant over there with you and save me the headache."
"You old geezer! Who are you calling an eggplant?!" Sanji, who had been getting ready to kick someone with a cigarette clenched in his teeth, instantly bristled.
A thick vein throbbed on his forehead as he ground his black leather shoe hard against the floor.
"I'm not going anywhere! If these pieces of trash dare dirty my floor, I'll kick every single one of their ribs to pieces!"
Ace was taken aback for a moment, but then burst into a hearty roaring laugh.
He reached out to stop a crewmate who was about to draw his sword, his face beaming with a carefree cheerfulness. "Well, if the boss says so... Deuce, go give them a warning and make them think twice."
The masked, long-haired man—Masked Deuce—shrugged helplessly as he walked right to the entrance.
Clearing his throat, he faced the horde of starving men surging forward like a desperate tide and suddenly raised his voice.
"Attention, pirates ahead! This is the territory of the Spade Pirates! Standing before you is Fire Fist Ace, carrying a bounty of fifty million Beli! If you value your lives, get lost right now!"
Fifty million Beli!
In the East Blue, where the average bounty barely hit three million, this was an astronomical figure that could literally make grown men stop and cry!
Following the usual script, the other side should have been scared out of their wits by now, turning around to run for their lives or prostrating themselves in total submission.
That's exactly what Ace thought, too, having even adjusted his posture to get ready to receive their shocked and admiring gazes.
However, reality is often way more absurd than any script.