At the eastern port of Ashen Port, a pirate ship lay docked.
The Blood Spear Pirates' flag snapped in the wind—
a blood-dripping spear piercing a skull against a crimson backdrop.
On the open ground, pirates sat around a bonfire.
Unknown meat sizzled on the grill, fat dripping into the flames.
The air reeked of scorched flesh and blood.
"Captain, this haul was good!"
A pirate laughed, teeth smeared with grease.
"The Navy should be arriving soon—we'll make it even bigger!"
"Hmph. West Blue Marines…"
A tall, gaunt figure like an iron tower sat atop a reef.
Pale skin, old scars twisting grotesquely in the firelight.
He stroked the modular spear beside him—Blood Beak—its hooked tip gleaming coldly.
"They're nothing but trash."
"Blood Spear" Lugart wore a cloak stitched together from looted Marine officer uniforms.
Rank insignias deliberately left intact glinted in the fire.
"When they arrive," he sneered,
"I'll hang their leader's head on Blood Beak and let the West Blue Marines know—
I'm back. Hahaha…"
The laughter stopped abruptly.
The sea breeze went still.
The pirates sensed something wrong and looked up.
At the port entrance, a lone figure was walking toward them.
A Marine youth.
A long blade wrapped in white bandages slung across his back.
…
Lugart grinned savagely.
"Heh… finally here—"
Then his eyes landed on Gern's shoulder insignia.
The smile froze.
"E-Ensign?!
A branch Ensign?!"
Veins bulged on Lugart's forehead.
"You've got to be kidding me!!"
He stomped, cracking the reef beneath his foot.
"I'm Blood Spear Lugart!
A Grand Line veteran!
Sixty-nine million bounty!"
"And the Navy sends a branch Ensign to deal with me?!"
He roared with laughter, spear thrust toward Gern.
"Is the Navy out of men?!
Or do you think I'm not even worth more than an Ensign?!"
The pirates erupted in jeers.
"Captain, they're insulting you!"
"An Ensign isn't even enough to fill our teeth!"
Gern didn't respond.
He kept walking.
Then a lanky pirate suddenly widened his eyes, staring at Gern's back.
"That sword—white bandages—!"
"Spit it out," Lugart snapped.
"Captain… that's Pirate Hunter Gern!!"
"What?" Lugart frowned.
The pirate hurriedly explained:
"Sixteen pirate crews wiped out in one year—solo!
Gold Tooth Hawk—twenty-three million—was killed by him last month!"
"And I heard… he trained at Marine Headquarters, but his rank was suppressed for being too extreme!"
Lugart narrowed his eye, reassessing Gern.
"Oh?"
His smile returned—this time bloodthirsty.
"Pirate Hunter Gern?"
In the Grand Line's first half, there were countless like him.
He wasn't afraid.
"So, kid," Lugart sneered, rising to his feet,
"is the Navy really that desperate? Sending you to die?"
Gern finally spoke.
"You're Blood Spear Lugart?"
Lugart lifted Blood Beak and pointed it at him.
"Heard of me?"
"So it's not that the Navy looks down on me…"
He rotated the spear slowly.
"They think you alone are enough to kill me?"
The pirates howled with laughter.
Gern raised his hand, palm upward.
"You slaughtered Ashen Port," he said calmly.
Lugart burst out laughing.
"Slaughter? Those trash deserved it!"
He licked his lips, eyes gleaming.
"On the sea—weak lives are worthless!"
Gern's eyes turned glacial.
"Then your life—"
The air twisted in his palm.
HUM!!!
A pure-white vibration sphere collapsed and condensed, shining like a compressed star.
Lugart's laughter died.
"…how much is it worth?!"
Gern punched sideways into the air.
BOOM!!!
Space shattered.
Cracks spread like spiderwebs.
The Blood Spear Pirates' ship exploded into fragments in a thousandth of a second.
Wood, masts, iron, sails—pulverized into dust.
Even the seawater beneath collapsed into a massive vacuum.
Waves roared in, wreckage swallowed by a vortex.
Silence fell.
Lugart's pupil shrank to a pinprick.
His ship.
His wealth.
Gone.
Gern lifted his head, black hair whipped by the shockwave.
"There's something else you got wrong."
For the first time, his hand gripped the hilt of Black Blade · Eight Desolations.
The blade screamed.
Bandages unraveled into ash, crackling with high-frequency vibration.
Dark-red fractures ignited along the blade like a waking beast.
"It's not that I think…"
His eyes locked onto Lugart.
"…that you're worth killing alone."
"It's that you alone aren't worth killing slowly."
"If you like the chapter please vote using power stones and do suggest me your thoughts about the story"