As expected, the moment Aeridar appeared, the ragtag bunch opposite them started to stir uneasily. The brown-haired man leading them visibly flinched the instant he saw Aeridar, a flash of fear flickering in his eyes.
"Oi, Arlan, you couldn't take care of them?" Aeridar gave the group a lazy glance, his tone light and casual.
"Boss, the other side's got a few serious fighters," replied Arlan, the handsome blue-haired man. He sniffled, scratched the back of his head, and looked helplessly at his boss.
"Really now?" Aeridar raised an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn't expected one of his two strongest subordinates to struggle like this.
Arlan was no slouch—his combat skills were among the best on Shiga Island. Aside from Aeridar himself, only one other subordinate could barely manage to hold his own against him. Everyone else didn't even come close.
"Tch. So you finally showed yourself, Aeridar. I thought you were hiding like a coward," the brown-haired man sneered, trying to recover from his earlier embarrassment with a twisted grin.
Aeridar cast a disdainful glance his way, casually hooking his index finger with his thumb resting on top, and said, "Big Cat Sams, who the hell gave a weakling like you the balls to stand in front of me? Have you already forgotten what I'm capable of?"
The moment Sams saw the motion of Aeridar's fingers, his face went pale. He stumbled back a few steps, as if recalling something truly horrifying.
Smack!
A thunderous slap sent Sams crashing to the ground. A vivid handprint swelled across his right cheek, already turning red and puffy.
"Useless shit."
A tall, well-built man with white hair lowered his hand. He stared coldly at Sams, his voice sharp and unforgiving.
The white-haired man stood close to two meters tall, his expression vicious and menacing. A cross-shaped scar ran down the left side of his face. His slicked-back white hair and open-chested white-and-gold coat gave off an imposing air. A white katana hung at his waist, his baggy pants cinched with a black belt, and he wore high-top round-toed shoes.
"S-sorry…! I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" Sams clutched his swollen cheek, bowing repeatedly as he scrambled to his feet, face contorted in a pathetic grimace.
"Well, well… so you're the one pulling the strings behind all this?" Aeridar eyed the white-haired man, rubbing his nose. The guy seemed familiar somehow, but the memory just wouldn't click.
"Didn't expect the boss of the biggest gang on Shiga Island to be such a kid. What do you say—want to join me?" the white-haired man asked, amused. He had known the top gang leader on the island was young, but this? This kid looked like he'd just come of age.
"Oi, oi, White-Hair… are you underestimating me?" Aeridar said, annoyed, his expression darkening.
"Heh heh heh… Of course not. That blue-haired guy of yours is already stronger than anyone on my crew besides my first mate," the white-haired man said with a laugh, rubbing the hilt of his katana. "Seriously though, you should come with me. Let's hit the Grand Line together."
"Hehehe… So you're a pirate, huh?"
Aeridar's eyes lit up in realization. He burst out laughing. So this guy was in the same business. Aeridar wasn't a pirate yet, but he was already prepared to take that step.
"Oi, oi… no way. That's why you looked familiar!" Arlan suddenly gasped, sweat beading on his forehead. Tugging at his short blue hair, his voice trembled: "You're that rising star of the East Blue… the one with a 20 million beri bounty… the captain of the White Mane Pirates—White Mane Swordsman Enrod!"
"Oh~ So it was you," Aeridar said, finally recognizing him.
Just a few days ago, he had seen Enrod's latest bounty poster: Wanted – Dead or Alive: White Mane Swordsman Enrod. Accused of killing 164 Marines stationed across various islands. Extremely dangerous. Bounty: 20 million Berries.
Hissss—
Gasps swept through Aeridar's crew.
They'd dealt with pirates before—plenty, in fact—but usually low-tier ones with bounties in the tens or hundreds of thousands. This was the first time they'd encountered a pirate with a 20 million beri bounty. And judging by the wanted poster, Enrod wasn't just dangerous—he was infamous.
"Ahaha… So you're the new East Blue hotshot with the 20 million beri bounty—White Mane Swordsman Enrod, huh?" Aeridar emphasized the words 'hotshot', his tone sharp. "You hurt my subordinates. What do you want? Don't tell me you're here to give me some half-assed recruitment speech."
Truthfully, with his knowledge of how things would unfold in the future, Aeridar never considered anyone with a bounty under 100 million beri worthy of the title 'great pirate'. In this era, even 80 million beri barely made the cut.
Still, this was the East Blue—the weakest of all the seas. Here, even the Grand Line was spoken of like a legend. So a 20 million beri bounty did just barely qualify as a big deal.
"Heh heh heh… You're a blunt one, kid," Enrod chuckled. He didn't take offense at the tone.
But his fingers were tapping rhythmically against his katana's hilt. Then his smile vanished.
Expression cold and flat, Enrod said, "I know you've cornered the market on the finest lumber on Shiga Island. My ship took heavy damage in the last storm, and I need that top-quality wood to make repairs. Without it, there's no way we'll survive the Grand Line's waters."
So that was it.
Enrod's pirate ship had been badly damaged in a violent storm two nights ago. By chance, they'd drifted here. While scouting for supplies last night, he'd wandered into West Street—Big Cat Sams' turf. Recognizing Enrod, Sams had immediately sucked up to him, spilling everything he knew about Aeridar.
He'd exaggerated Aeridar's strength and wealth, claiming he monopolized the island's finest wood, hoping to provoke Enrod into going after him. This was Sams' shot at revenge after Aeridar had humiliated him a year ago.
"Ah, that…" Aeridar scratched his head, pretending to be troubled. With a sly grin, he said, "Sorry about that… but I'm kinda running low myself."
"Boss… are you sure?" Gorbo's face twisted around his scar. He hadn't expected such a flat-out rejection.
"C-come on, Boss, don't be that direct," Arlan muttered, still a little dazed. The enemy crew had given him hell earlier—and that was without the captain or first mate lifting a finger.
"…Is that so?"
Enrod's face darkened. His cold eyes sharpened as his hand gripped the katana's hilt.
"Then… go to hell."
A sharp, murderous cry rang out.
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