Yulan Island:
The battle erupted into instant chaos with a storm of shouting and killing that shook the air.
Even from near the back of the formation, Kōjin felt the adrenaline surge through his body, his heart pound, his blood boil, and his chest burn with heat and excitement.
The pirates reacted with astonishing speed. The explosion of one ship sent chaos through the others instantly, and pirates were already leaping down into the shallow waters, roaring orders. A sharp whistle sliced through the air, carrying the alarm toward the distant town ahead.
"The Marines are here!"
"Go tell the captain and officers!"
"Kill them all! There aren't that many!"
Compared to the sheer number of pirates, Garp's unit was tiny, as there were barely a hundred Marines in total. Yet within just a few breaths, over two hundred pirates had poured off their ships, each with a savage, bloodthirsty grin on his face.
For some reason, Kōjin suddenly felt heavy pressure bearing down on him. The enemy outnumbered them two to one. This wasn't the passionate heroism of the anime from his past life; this was brutal, blood-soaked reality.
"Bang!"
A gunshot cracked through the noise. Someone grunted just ahead of him, and the tall Marine who had been blocking his view fell wordlessly to the ground. Kōjin leaped over the fallen man and watched the deck stain red with blood.
This was war, a real war with blood and death.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Gunfire erupted from both sides, merging into a deafening rhythm. The two lines were barely a hundred meters apart and were exchanging deadly fire. Marines fell every second, with heads exploding here and chests being torn open there. The smell of blood thickened, causing a sharp and metallic taste to enter the nostrils.
But the pirates were dying, too, being cut down one after another.
Still, it could be seen from this battle that Garp's unit was clearly made up of seasoned veterans. They may not have had the strength of those who practiced Rokushiki, nor did they possess monstrous power. However, their courage and refusal to retreat were absolute.
"Charge!"
The Marines on the front line lifted their rifles and fired as they advanced, shouting wildly with fury and determination twisted on their faces. They closed the distance quickly. Soon, only forty or fifty meters separated them from the pirates.
At that range, some pirates tossed their rifles aside and drew long blades from their waists. Hand-to-hand combat with blades was about to begin.
Kōjin took a deep breath, tightening his grip on his only weapon: the chair.
"Bang!"
On the thirty-sixth second of the charge, just as the two sides were about to clash, Kōjin's body jerked violently. He let out a muffled groan and looked down to see a red bloom spreading over his left chest.
His heart had been pierced by a bullet.
In the next instant, however, as if awakening from suffocation and darkness, he suddenly drew in a sharp, gasping breath and came back to life.
The bullet was forced out of his chest and clattered onto the ground with a faint metallic sound.
He had revived. Again.
His vision refocused, and he quickly locked eyes with the pirate who had shot him. The man wore a bandana and held a rifle. His face was frozen in shock and disbelief as he stared at Kōjin, and it looked as if the pirate had seen a ghost.
"Jerry! What are you spacing out for?" another pirate shouted beside him.
"Oi, oi! Did you see that? I hit that brat right in the heart, and he's still standing!" Jerry's voice trembled with utter disbelief.
"Impossible! Stop talking nonsense and shoot again! Fighting the Black Rex Pirates with a chair as a weapon is an insult to our crew!" his comrade roared furiously.
Jerry took a deep breath, raised his rifle, and aimed squarely at the black-haired Marine holding the absurd chair among the ranks.
"Bang!"
The gun roared, and the bullet screamed through the air, striking the boy between the eyes.
Jerry froze.
He saw the boy's head snap back for a second, then slowly tilt forward. Then, those cold, furious, and alive eyes locked directly onto him.
"That kid...he's a monster, isn't he?!" Jerry whispered.
He had hit him twice. Yet Kōjin was still moving.
In that moment, Kōjin fully understood the brutality of war. The death rate was too high, far too high. Within moments, Kōjin had been hit by two bullets.
Meanwhile, the vanguard had collided head-on with the pirates up ahead. Brutal, white-blade combat began in earnest, and curses, screams, and death cries tore through the battlefield once again.
Kuzan darted through the chaos, his blade flashing. The young Marine moved swiftly and precisely, his military sword gleaming as he cut through one pirate after another.
At the same time, Kōjin saw a comrade beside him, someone he didn't even know by name, impaled through the chest by a pirate's long blade. The man spat blood but, instead of retreating, let out a roar and dragged his attacker down with him to his death.
Fearless to the very end.
Marines and pirates alike seemed utterly mad, neither side caring for their own lives as they charged forward without hesitation.
"Kill!"
Kōjin roared as he sprinted forward and leapt.
That single jump carried him nearly ten meters. His physical power and explosive strength had already far surpassed what they were when he first arrived in this world. The chair in his hands, his only weapon, spun in a vicious arc as he swung it down with all his might at the head of the nearest pirate.
"Bang!"
The chair smashed squarely into the man's forehead. Kōjin saw blood burst forth as the man's skull split open like an eggshell. The chair shattered from the impact, splintering into a hail of wooden fragments.
Red and white, blood and brain matter, splashed all over him, but he didn't flinch.
He bent down, grabbed a rifle from the ground, and tossed it aside quickly, picking up a long blade instead. He had never learned to fire a gun, not in his past life nor in this one.
But a blade? He could master that in an instant.
"Bang!"
A stray bullet hit him in the abdomen, making his body shudder. Within seconds, however, his face twisted into a grimace, and he charged at the pirate before him again.
No one could truly imagine the white-blade battle without having lived through it. Within moments, blood and body parts littered the ground.
Kōjin swung his long blade in a broad arc, slicing the neck of a pirate with his back turned. The blade jammed against bone, forcing Kōjin to push harder. With a violent twist, the man's head separated from his shoulders.
After taking a deep breath, Kōjin stepped forward and met another pirate head-on. Their eyes met, and then they both roared and swung.
"Slash!"
The pirate's blade carved down Kōjin's face, cutting open his neck, chest, and abdomen in one stroke. Blood sprayed out like a fountain from his arteries, but within an instant, the wounds sealed. His body regenerated, returning to its uninjured state. Along with that came an even greater surge of raw, overwhelming power.
Without hesitation, Kōjin struck again, piercing the pirate's kidney with his blade. He ripped the blade free. Before the dying man could comprehend what he was seeing, Kōjin had rushed toward his next target.
For a fresh recruit thrown into a real battlefield, death had become almost ordinary, especially for him. In just a short time, his system points had climbed to seventy-five. Kōjin could clearly feel his body evolving: growing stronger, faster, and deadlier. By the end, he was cutting through pirates with ease, moving among them like a ghost.
However, just as the battle reached its bloodiest height, he suddenly heard Kuzan shout from nearby, "Kōjin!"
"Kōjin!"
"Look ahead!"
There was heavy tension in Kuzan's serious, urgent tone.
Kōjin lifted his head toward the town.
From the narrow, European-style streets ahead, a thunderous chorus of battle cries erupted. Dense waves of figures poured out of the alleys like swarming ants, rushing straight toward them.
A suffocating weight gripped Kōjin's chest.
There were too many of them.
(End of chapter.)
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