"Not lending. Now get lost."
Rosinante didn't even hesitate. His tone was sharp and final, the only mercy he was willing to give these bounty hunters. If they had the sense to back off now, they might still walk away alive. But if they stayed… then they were the ones choosing death.
"Whoa there, Young Master," the scar-faced man sneered. "we chased you all the way out to this godforsaken rock. If you're not gonna lend us anything, that's not exactly friendly, is it?"
"Friends?" Rosinante's expression didn't change. "You think you are worthy of being my friends?"
The scar-faced man's grin froze. Slowly, his face darkened.
"Young Master, we've been nothing but polite so far. Don't mistake that for weakness."
Rosinante sighed, visibly bored. "I've wasted enough breath on you already. I'll say it one last time—not lending. Get. Lost."
Rosinante was always respectful to civilians and his fellow Marines. But for some reason, when it came to the corrupt and hypocritical kind, the sort who cloaked their greed in false virtue—his disgust ran bone-deep.
"You little brat," the scar-faced man spat, his patience finally snapping. "Looks like you really want to die, huh? Boys! The two big guys—chop 'em into mince! As for the pretty little 'Young Master'… keep him alive. I know a few slavers on the Grand Line who'll pay handsomely for someone with such soft skin."
The words were the signal. The horde of bounty hunters roared and charged.
"Go! A hundred thousand Berries to anyone who kills one of the guards! Ten million if you bring the Young Master in alive! MOVE!"
"Kill them all!!"
"Water Duck, ten on the left are yours, ten on the right are mine. Let's go!"
Turkey shouted the order, and both men sprang into action.
"Tempest Kick—Slash!"
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
"Watch it! These two aren't amateurs!"
The blade of compressed air was parried by a coordinated defense. Turkey clicked his tongue, then vanished in a blur.
"Shave!"
He reappeared behind the hunters. "Finger Pistol!"
TAP-TAP-TAP!
His fingers pierced through the air like bullets, dropping enemies in succession. Water Duck followed suit, also using 'Shave' to flash into the mob, striking with cold precision.
But numbers had their weight. Before long, the two were surrounded—locked in their own skirmishes.
Meanwhile, the scar-faced leader and his short rat-like accomplice closed in on Rosinante with a dozen men at their back.
"Young Master," Scar-faced sneered, tilting his head, "your bodyguards aren't gonna save you this time. I could cut you into pieces before they even get here."
Rosinante looked up at him calmly. "Tell me, is this how you usually 'borrow' money? Aren't bounty hunters supposed to hunt pirates?"
"Ha! Kid, are you stupid?" Scar-faced barked a laugh.
"You think we'd make a living catching real pirates? The ones who survive on this sea aren't pushovers—you'd starve waiting for a payday. Nah, it's the passing merchant ships that pay better. We take their coin, sell their women and kids to slavers—that's how we make real money. So? You see what kind of people we are now?"
He grinned wide, proud of his filth.
The short one scowled. "Enough talking. Catch him, bind him, and we'll figure out the price later."
"Don't rush me. I enjoy teaching pampered brats a little about how this sea really works."
Rosinante smiled faintly with a calm, and cold smile. "So you rob merchants and sell women and children… Bounty hunters more wicked than pirates. How fitting."
"Pirates?" Scar-faced chuckled darkly. "Don't compare us to those idiots. We do the same work, sure, but we don't mess with the Marines, and sometimes we even do the government a favor. We don't get hunted, they call us heroes of justice among the common folk! Hahaha!"
Rosinante's eyes narrowed.
"This world truly is rotten to the core. That filth like you can be called heroes…" His voice grew hard, cold as steel. "Fine then. But today, you met me. I won't let scum like you keep staining this sea."
He rose to his feet, his voice echoing like judgment.
"In the name of Justice, I sentence you all to death!"
His fury burned quietly, controlled—the kind that froze the blood.
How twisted could a world be, that devils wore the mask of justice?
"'In the name of Justice'? Hahaha! Don't make me laugh, kid! You think you're a Marine now?"
Scar-faced laughter was shrill and cruel, full of mockery.
"Enough talk! Boys, seize the Young Master—let's sell him for a fortune!"
The mob surged forward.
Rosinante's expression didn't waver. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"By the name of Justice… I grant you death, you worthless scum."
SNAP!
"Room."
A vast invisible sphere expanded around him.
"Death Domain."
Screams erupted almost instantly.
"My heart—! My heart's—!"
"Help! Somebody—aghhh—!"
Bodies crumpled one after another, lifeless before they hit the ground.
Within seconds, the rocky island fell silent.
Hundreds of bounty hunters lay dead, struck down by a single command. None of them had the will or strength to resist. In this world, power followed spirit and these men, who preyed on the weak but quailed before true justice, had neither.
Rosinante stepped down from the rock with a quiet thud.
He walked past Scar-faced twitching body. The man was still conscious, clutching his chest, choking on his last breath.
"P-please… spare me," Scar-faced wheezed, fingers trembling as they clutched at Rosinante's trouser leg. "I—I don't want to die…"
Rosinante looked down at him, his voice was calm—almost gentle.
"Didn't your victims beg you the same way? Think back to what you did then."
Then, he turned away.
"Only death can wash away sin."
Scar-faced hand froze midair. Then, moments later, it fell limp.
"Hey, boss!" Turkey called out, brushing off the blood. "I was just getting warmed up. You wiped them all out before I even broke a sweat!"
He picked up the chest of Berries and jogged to catch up. Water Duck followed in silence.
Rosinante didn't look back. His gaze was fixed on the sea ahead.
"Then let's get moving," he said quietly. "Back to training. Time waits for no one… and there's still too much filth out there waiting for us to clean up."
(End of Chapter)
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