Loguetown Naval Base — Warehouse.
Ten million Berries in cold, hard cash were neatly stacked in front of a group of pirates, forming a dangerously tempting rectangular pile.
Besides Captain Smoker of the "White Smoke Pirate Crew," there were over a dozen pirates from the East Blue who had either confidence in their strength or were simply blinded by greed. They had all accepted the mission to ambush a navy squad.
Now, they stood around the pile of money, raw greed and violence written all over their faces.
"This is the deposit. The remaining twenty million Berries will be paid once the job is done,"
Lieutenant Charles spoke in a gentle tone, but deep within his eyes hid scorn and cruelty.
"Hold on."
"Ambushing the Navy isn't a small job,"
One pirate said with a sinister grin as he began to haggle with Charles.
"With this many people involved, thirty million Berries doesn't sound like enough!"
"No problem at all!"
Charles's expression didn't change one bit. Without hesitation, he began handing out empty promises.
"Once the mission is complete, Commander Hammer will give each of you an extra five million as a bonus."
"As for this thirty million—that's just a little extra gift upfront!"
With a few words, Charles had raised the pirates' pay several times over.
"Hahaha!"
The pirates all burst into satisfied laughter.
"Alright then! Those Navy heads are as good as ours!"
Smoker silently puffed on his cigar, saying nothing.
But inside, a storm was brewing—his suppressed anger churned with the thickening smoke and the fast-burning cigar in his mouth.
Charles's lips curled into a cold smirk.
He had never intended for the pirates to actually see that money.
These trash from the weakest sea were merely scapegoats—a bunch of idiots set up to take the fall for Commander Hammer.
As long as the assassination went smoothly on Hammer's end, Charles planned to trick these weaklings into marching to their deaths.
But just as the pirates roared with laughter, another voice cut through the noise:
"So… how are we going to divide this extra thirty million among so many of us?"
The mood instantly turned tense.
The dozen or so pirates glanced at one another, all with ugly, greedy glints in their eyes.
"My bounty's the highest here!"
A three-meter-tall man holding a battle axe spoke bluntly.
"So I should get the biggest cut!"
"Heh..."
Another pirate, with a mochi-like torso and stick-thin legs, sneered.
"A high bounty doesn't mean you're the strongest."
The pirates quickly devolved into shouting, arguing over how to divide the money. The warehouse, which had just quieted down, was once again filled with noise and chaos.
Smoker, naturally, had no interest in these greedy, reckless, scum-in-human-form pirates.
Until—
"Everyone!"
A pirate with a treacherous grin suddenly spoke up:
"I've got an idea for how to divide the thirty million—"
"Whoever kills the most Marines gets the biggest cut!"
"Yes!"
The pirates lit up, and another chimed in:
"We'll count heads! Every Marine head equals more cash!"
"Whoever kills the most—"
He never finished his sentence.
That grotesque grin froze on his face—he collapsed to the ground like a dead pig.
A fresh pool of blood began to spread on the floor—Smoker had casually swung his jitte.
"You—what do you think you're doing?!"
Another pirate pointed at Smoker in panic.
Smoker ignored him completely.
He slowly blew out a thick ring of smoke, his cold, stern face shrouded in haze like a vengeful spirit from hell.
The sound of air being ripped apart echoed through the vast warehouse, causing a reverberating boom.
"Ahhh!"
The pirate who first suggested splitting the bounty by kill count let out a scream as Smoker smashed him into the ground.
Smoker calmly retracted his bloodstained jitte and cast a cold glance at the remaining pirates.
"He wants to kill us all and take the money for himself!"
One pirate shouted in terror.
"We can't just stand here! Fight back!"
The remaining pirates swallowed nervously, exchanging hesitant glances. Eventually, they mustered their courage, gripping their weapons as they stepped forward to confront Smoker.
The sudden outbreak of violence stunned Lieutenant Charles for a moment.
But Smoker didn't hesitate at all.
Justice had long since been trampled, black and white reversed, monsters and villains running rampant—Smoker was already filled with rage at this distorted reality.
He didn't even use his Devil Fruit powers.
He relied purely on his physical strength, the most primal, satisfying force of all, as he charged the group of pirates.
They never stood a chance.
Despite their bluster, none of them could match Smoker, who hadn't even revealed his true strength.
In no time at all, the pirates who'd been howling for Marine heads were now lying on the ground, bleeding, crippled, and groaning in pain.
Smoker stood in the middle of the blood-soaked scene and turned to look at Lieutenant Charles.
Charles's face turned ugly.
From what he had just seen, this unknown captain of the "White Smoke Pirate Crew" was far stronger than he had expected.
He'd planned to use weak pirates as scapegoats in a plot to kill a Navy headquarters officer… but he'd stumbled into a real beast instead.
Seeing the crimson rage in Smoker's eyes, Charles quickly softened his tone:
"B-Brother!"
"Those pirates' pay—it's all yours!"
But Smoker remained unmoved.
He looked like he was addicted to killing, unwilling to stop.
Charles was scared out of his wits.
Just then, a messenger burst into the room, completely ignoring the gory scene.
"Lieutenant!"
"A fight's broken out in the conference room! Commander Hammer requests immediate backup!"
Smoker paused, the killing intent in his eyes dimming a bit.
"What?!"
Charles's face turned dark and anxious—far worse than when Smoker had stared him down earlier.
The success of their plan hinged on one thing:
Commander Hammer had to assassinate Captain Smoker while the target was off-guard.
If Hammer was now in a fight, that meant the assassination had failed.
Which also meant they were now up against a furious Logia-type Devil Fruit user… a Navy Headquarters officer.
"Damn it."
Charles clenched his teeth, his instincts screaming at him to run.
But Commander Hammer held tight control over his core subordinates—everything from their property, families, and even their criminal records was in his hands.
Charles didn't dare disobey.
Not yet.
He tried to convince himself—
If Commander Hammer was still holding his own in a fight, that meant Smoker must've been injured. Otherwise, there'd be no way he could've sent a messenger for help in the middle of a fight with a Logia user.
Which meant… there was still a chance to turn things around.
"..."
After a moment of silence, Charles made up his mind.
He gritted his teeth, straightened his weapons, then suddenly thought of something—
He turned to the blood-drenched, violent, and rebellious "pirate" and said:
"You're coming with me. Help kill that Navy captain!"
"You'll be paid whatever you want!"
…..
At that moment, Commander Hammer was in a miserable state—just like Steel Blade had been back then.
Though he had the upper hand against Garen, it only delayed the inevitable.
Blood flowed steadily from his wounds, his stamina was waning, and sweat had completely soaked through his clothes.
This was Hammer's first time in a battle of endurance like this.
And the opponent in this marathon was still fresh—unscathed and full of energy.
Hammer wanted to retreat.
But it was too late.
His exhausted body couldn't support the high-speed Soru anymore, and his legs were too weak to outrun the strange man who could suddenly burst into speed.
Finally, Hammer—who'd always held himself in high regard—thought of using his subordinates' lives to exhaust the enemy.
But most of the corrupt navy soldiers under his command were too weak to stop Garen's blade.
Meanwhile, Tashigi, who had been waiting for news, heard the sounds of battle and led her troops into the base. She tied up most of Hammer's remaining forces.
Now Hammer could only grit his teeth and hold out, praying that his trusted, powerful subordinate Lieutenant Charles would arrive in time.
"Decisive Strike!"
Garen once again raised his gleaming greatsword and slashed down at Hammer.
A loud metallic clang rang out—Hammer had barely managed to block it.
But his arms trembled uncontrollably, his muscles aching unbearably.
"Commander Hammer, I've come to support you!"
Charles's voice suddenly rang out.
"I brought a powerful pirate to help too!"
Hammer finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"A helper?"
Garen's heart sank.
Up to this point, he'd only managed to hold Hammer back thanks to his game-like stats and self-healing passive.
He'd just barely worn down Hammer's stamina—he couldn't handle another "powerful ally."
He turned toward the voice with a concerned expression—
And then froze.
"Uhh..."
Garen's face twisted into a strange expression.
"That 'ally' of yours sure is... powerful."
(To be continued.)