Chapter 10: Blood and Steel

This was, after all, a bustling city marketplace. From the moment the Steel Blade Pirates appeared in force, wielding their weapons, countless bystanders—versed in the art of self-preservation—had already begun to scatter in all directions.

In no time at all, the once noisy, lively street fell utterly silent. Shops slammed their doors shut with impressive speed; residents bolted and barred their windows; and the passersby vanished almost without a trace.

Captain Steel Blade had no interest in the mundane lives of ordinary people. His gaze was fixed solely on Garen, the man in heavy armor wielding a greatsword. It wasn’t that he had been intimidated by Garen’s outburst—rather, like Nami before him, he was enthralled by the shining armor and the exquisite sword, his greed for treasure abruptly awakened.

“So this guy is really loaded…” Greed flashed in Steel Blade’s eyes. He waved at his men. “Surround that iron can for me!”

His crew instantly obeyed, forming a tight circle around Garen, layer upon layer, until not a gap remained. All their standard-issue long blades were drawn at once, and from a distance, it looked as if a forest of steel had sprung up.

Yet the henchmen did not attack immediately. Instead, they brandished fierce glares, closing in on Garen, trying to intimidate him by sheer proximity. The giant strength Garen had just displayed might not have scared the formidable Captain Steel Blade, but it was more than enough to cow these third-rate lackeys. The one who had just been sent flying by Garen’s casual blow still lay on the ground, writhing in agony…

Judging by the unnatural angle of his limbs, he would likely be spending the rest of his days in a wheelchair, or worse.

For his part, Garen made no move either. After all, this was his first time squaring off against such armed criminals. The Great Teddy’s trial had given him the courage to fight for his life, but not the experience of wielding a sword against men.

The standoff was tense, but suddenly the quiet was shattered.

A small squad of uniformed men arrived on the scene at a hurried, disordered pace. Both Garen, hemmed in by pirates, and Steel Blade, standing proudly with blade in hand, turned to look with curiosity.

These were not marines, but the town’s own security officers—the sort found in any respectable settlement, responsible for maintaining market order and occasionally handling weak, petty pirates. Having heard of trouble in the town center, they were obliged by protocol to show up and go through the motions.

But the Steel Blade Pirates were clearly not the kind of small fry this amateurish force could ever hope to subdue.

The moment Steel Blade spotted these unremarkable officers, he hauled his massive blade onto his shoulder and, without the slightest courtesy, pointed at the newcomers—who had yet to grasp the situation—and barked, “The Steel Blade Pirates are here to kill! You worthless minnows dare meddle in our affairs?”

“Stand perfectly still, all of you!”

As soon as that notorious name—Steel Blade Pirates—rang out, a sheen of cold sweat broke across the brow of the middle-aged security captain. He knew better than to provoke such men; surviving by meekly offering protection money was already luck enough.

So, the shrewd captain immediately forced a servile smile, ready to bow and stammer a conciliatory “it’s all a misunderstanding.” But just then, a young recruit, new to the force and full of hot-blooded bravado, stepped forward indignantly. Pointing up at the towering giant that was Steel Blade, he declared without a hint of fear:

“Damn pirates! I won’t let you run wild in my hometown!”

“Silence!” the captain barked, his face turning ashen as he rushed to drag the foolhardy youth back.

But it was already too late.

“Oh?” Steel Blade’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a brave soul among these minnows?”

He gripped his enormous blade, a savage grin splitting his face.

“Hahaha… My blade loves to taste the blood of the brave!”

Bang! A gunshot rang out, fire flashing.

The young man, burning with youthful fervor, fell to the ground, writhing in a pool of blood.

“You… you…” Blood frothed at his lips, but he still spat defiance at the shameless pirate before him. “What happened to your precious blade? You shot me, damn it…”

Steel Blade flushed red, sheepishly sliding his flintlock pistol back into its holster. Then, waving his gleaming blade in embarrassment and anger, he roared, “I’ll use whatever I damn well please! You got something to say about it? Looks like you all want to die!”

With that, the nearly three-meter-tall pirate began advancing on the trembling officers. The blade glinted coldly; a murderous, blood-soaked aura swept toward them.

He would indeed kill, and kill more, even though these officers posed no threat to him at all. For Steel Blade, slaughtering the weak was both a pleasure and a means to spread his infamy further across the seas.

There was a dark irony in all this: the Navy and World Government had poured vast resources into establishing a system of bounties for pirates. Yet, in the end, these bounties did little to inspire bounty hunters—instead, they simply guided them in choosing their targets, usually the weaker pirates. The truly dangerous ones, with the highest bounties, were largely ignored. Even many who served under the banner of justice in the navy preferred to steer clear of the great pirates.

The courage to challenge the strong had faded, while the pirates’ morale only grew. The bounty became not just a price on their heads, but a symbol of status and power—a badge to be brandished with pride. Pirates, in pursuit of higher bounties, would commit ever more wanton destruction and slaughter.

Captain Steel Blade was just one among countless pirates chasing ever-higher bounties, willing to take innocent lives to make his name infamous—such as the hapless officers before him.

“Everyone, retreat!” The captain didn’t hesitate to issue the order, his voice tinged with defeat. The officers fled in a panic—just as they’d been itching to do—dropping weapons and gear in their haste, so oppressive was the killer’s aura radiating from Steel Blade.

But the captain himself did not run. The middle-aged man with graying temples stood firm before the wounded youth—and then, heavily, knelt before Steel Blade.

“Lord Steel Blade!” He prostrated himself, his voice trembling but clear.

“The boy is young and foolish—please, I beg you, show mercy and forgive his insolence!”

“I’m not backing down…” the hot-blooded young man gasped from the pool of his own blood, refusing to yield even now.

The captain’s brow bulged with veins of frustration; had it not been for the youth’s wounds, he might have smacked some sense into him right then. But now, all he could do was bend his back lower and lower, humbling himself to the utmost.

“Hahaha…” Steel Blade’s laughter echoed through the deathly still street, then cut off abruptly. His face twisted with cruel delight.

“Too late. I want blood.”

He raised his blade high. The captain closed his eyes in resignation.

“Enough!”

The shout cracked like thunder, brimming with fury.

Steel Blade halted mid-swing, turning, intrigued, toward the source—a man clad in heavy armor, wielding a greatsword.

Garen, surrounded by pirates, was ablaze with a wrath he had never known.

“So this is what pirates are?” The scope of his worldview shattered, Garen gripped his sword until his knuckles went white with anger.

“My thanks, truly, for this vivid demonstration…”

In this world, the vast majority of pirates were not dreamers chasing freedom, as in those tales, nor pure-hearted villains with grand ambitions—such types were rare indeed. Most, like those before Garen, were scum who took pleasure in tormenting the weak.

He felt nothing but disgust.

For the first time, Garen felt the urge and desire to fight for others—to battle on behalf of those who could not fight for themselves.

Clutching his sword, he turned his head and called out in a commanding voice, “Nami! Take care of yourself!”

“Huh?” came a confused grunt from a nearby pirate, not Nami.

The orange-haired girl was long gone; given the chance, she would never remain in danger—a survival instinct Nami the Cat Burglar had honed to perfection.

“Ah…” Garen sighed in exasperation. “Outmaneuvered again…”