West Sea of East Blue, an unnamed small town on an island.
In the middle of the town, in a restaurant that should have been busy at noon, there were no other people besides the six sitting at the center table.
The empty restaurant had an oppressive atmosphere, with only the sound of drinks passing through throats breaking the silence.
Glug, glug.
“Captain, what should we do?” The man who spoke took a big gulp of alcohol. He had a huge scar running across his face, still bleeding, making his appearance gruesome. His tattered clothes barely covered the essential parts, and his exposed body showed many poorly bandaged wounds from knives and bullets.
“What do we do? What do we do, damn it! We fill our bellies and continue recruiting men.” The speaker was a burly man with brown hair and red eyes. His expression was no better than the one who asked, and his left shoulder was wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage from a through-and-through wound.
The other four people were focused on eating and drinking to replenish their energy.
Just looking at the six men’s wounds, it was clear they were desperados. The various scars and wounds on their bodies indicated countless battles.
However, like stray dogs, these six looked terrified and clearly in big trouble.
“Boss Red-Eye, why do those damned pirates keep hunting us like the navy? We only looted a merchant ship.” A young pirate, having finished his drink, angrily complained about their situation.
The captain of the Red-Eye Pirates, Fick, got his nickname because his eyes turned blood-red during slaughter. He had a bounty of 18 million berries and was a notorious pirate in the East Blue until he disappeared six months ago.
The Red-Eye Pirates ventured into the Grand Line, but as soon as they appeared, they were ambushed by the navy, with only a handful of core members narrowly escaping.
As a famous pirate once said, “The path you choose, you must walk, even if on your knees.”
So, despite the navy’s strength, the Red-Eye Pirates adhered to a strategy of never giving up, using the well-honed tactics of their predecessors: hiding and surviving.
While fleeing, they encountered a merchant ship. After killing all who resisted, they thought they had found hope, but it was just the beginning of their nightmare.
The merchant ship belonged to JOKER, an influential underworld figure. Touching his goods and trying to run was a grave mistake.
Being pirates only in the East Blue, they had no idea of JOKER’s terror and mocked him. But as the saying goes, “Courting death brings death.” Pretending to be tough led to their downfall.
The once insignificant pirate crew in the Grand Line faced annihilation. During a fierce battle, a storm saved them just when they were about to be wiped out. The Red-Eye Pirates had to flee to the East Blue, severely injured.
Now, only six remained, all wounded.
The Red-Eye Pirates had disappeared for six months, but the bounty posters were still at the local police station. When the six disembarked and entered the town, they were recognized, and most people fled to temporary shelters.
The town was emptied, and the restaurant owner, unable to escape in time, was forced to cook for them.
Colonel Franca received a call from the local police station and quickly assembled his team, aiming to capture the Red-Eye Pirates.
Fick finished eating, stood up, and announced loudly, “Fill your bellies, and we’ll start recruiting in this town. I am ‘Red-Eye’ Fick, the terror of the East Blue. We won’t abandon our dreams of dominating the seas because of a minor setback.”
Glancing towards Reverse Mountain, he continued his speech.
“Once we gather our men, we’ll seek revenge on those navy and pirates who ambushed us, and show them our true strength.”
Fick’s speech was passionate, but his vice-captain and four subordinates were too scared to respond, focusing only on their food.
Left without support, Fick felt like a performance artist ignored by his audience. Frustrated, he saw the trembling restaurant owner and brightened up.
“Hey, you cook well. Be my head chef.”
The restaurant owner was terrified. “I’m sorry, I won’t cook so well next time!”
“Please spare me, sir! Let me go!” He knelt, begging.
Enraged by the refusal, Fick smashed the counter with a nearby knife.
“You dare defy the great Captain Fick? Defying orders means death.”
At that moment, someone appeared at the restaurant door.
“Who are you going to kill, ‘Red-Eye’ Fick?”
It was Colonel Franca, wearing his Justice cloak.
Receiving the report from the local police, Franca quickly assembled his team and cornered the Red-Eye Pirates in the restaurant.
The pirates, terrified by the sudden appearance of the navy, grabbed their weapons and gathered together.
They sighed in relief after recognizing that these were not Grand Line navy.
“You are surrounded. Surrender is your only option.”
“Well, well, if it isn’t old friend Colonel Franca. Still so full of yourself. Catch me if you can!”
Meanwhile, at the town dock, Mosen was bored on the ship.
Unexpectedly, the crafty colonel left him to guard the ship, claiming it was a critical responsibility.
“You’re so smooth with your tricks; no wonder you’re 30 and still single.”
This was Mosen’s first time at sea with the combat unit, and he was excited to prove himself against pirates and hope to find the Porcupine Pirates.
For the past two years, Mosen has trained relentlessly, aiming to get revenge on the Porcupine Pirates for his foster parents.
But fate was not on his side. Each mission never involved chasing the Porcupine Pirates, who had moved to another navy’s jurisdiction.
This mission targeted the Red-Eye Pirates.
Aboard the ship, Mosen imagined the fight with a pirate worth 18 million berries, only to be disappointed by his orders to guard the boat.
Next to the warship was a battered merchant ship with broken masts and many damaged planks. It was barely afloat and had visible cannonball holes.
Nearby soldiers guarded the ship, ready to clear it once the pirates were dealt with.
In the distance, the sound of gunfire and fighting reached them.
A bearded soldier joked with Mosen, “Mosen, don’t slack off when clearing this merchant ship.”
“Hey, don’t underestimate Mosen!”
“Haha, Mosen choresman is the hardest worker in the base!”
Ignoring the banter, Mosen sat down to meditate, placing his rifle and sword on the deck.
Suddenly, Mosen’s ears twitched, and a smile appeared on his delicate face.
“Fate has its ways.”
About a thousand meters away, a dust cloud was approaching the shore. Leading it was a large man over two meters tall, running towards the shore, with gunfire and curses behind him—it was ‘Red-Eye’ Fick.
Mosen grabbed his sword, leaped off the ship, and sprinted faster toward Fick.
“Leave the ship to me. This one’s mine!” His voice echoed as he disappeared into the distance.
In an alley 300 meters south of the town, Mosen calmly awaited the fleeing pirate.
“10, 9… 6… 2, 1.”
As he counted to one, a large man with a long sword appeared at the alley’s entrance.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Red-Eye. Prepare to die!”
Moving with his words, Mosen charged, his voice still echoing.
Mountain Splitter!!
Mosen’s most practiced and most decisive move was a two-handed downward slash.
Startled by the sudden appearance of a navy, Fick instinctively raised his sword to block.
Bang!!
With a loud clash of metal, Fick was pushed back three steps and Mosen one step.
The standard navy sword had a notch where they collided, showing its poor quality.
Fick’s left shoulder was soaked in blood, hanging limply. Blocking Mosen’s full-strength slash with one hand showed his strength.
“Kid, name yourself. You deserve my full effort.”
“Too much talk.”
Mosen slashed upward with a single hand, not giving Fick a chance to recover.
“Die!”
This time, Fick didn’t dodge, stabbing straight at Mosen’s head, aiming for a mutual kill.
“Watch out!” Someone shouted from a distance.
“Heh, got you!”
It was a feint. Mosen retracted his sword and sidestepped slightly. Fick’s blade missed, and his momentum made him stumble.
“Swift Dragon!!”
“Crimson Dance!!”
Clang, clang…
A flurry of metal clashed, and they separated.
Mosen’s breathing was heavy. He had underestimated the 18-million-berry pirate. The battle instincts honed through countless fights were formidable, making a quick victory impossible.
Looking at the wounds on his chest and left arm, Mosen’s inflated ego deflated instantly!
“Careful survival brings lasting satisfaction.”
“Didn’t expect to fall to a kid. What’s your name?”
“No need to thank me, just call me Red Scarf.”
Mosen’s gaze was distant, his expression solemn.
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