Chapter 98: The Great Hero Sterry

Borgin was somewhat puzzled, but still reached into his coat and produced a finely crafted, petite pistol.

Like in other nations, the Kingdom of Goa strictly forbade anyone from carrying weapons into the royal palace. And, as elsewhere, such a rule was little more than a formality for those truly determined.

Garen looked at the pistol Borgin handed over—a miniature, multi-shot firearm whose technological sophistication was a whole era ahead of the East Blue’s typical standards—and couldn't help but marvel once again at the world's bizarrely skewed technological tree.

Wasting no time, Garen discreetly concealed the pistol, barely half the size of his palm, in his hand, then turned his attention to his intended target: Sterry.

Sterry, of course, could not discern the malice in Garen's gaze, nor could he have imagined what was about to unfold. On the contrary, he immediately greeted Garen with a sycophantic smile.

The farcical scene that had transpired in the palace not long ago had shattered all the schemes Sterry had plotted over the years, and had only deepened his recognition of the importance of power. His ambition for authority and status not only failed to wane in the face of defeat and setbacks, but swelled to an uncontrollable degree.

He quickly devised a plan for a reversal of fortune: curry favor with the "Celestial Dragon," present himself as a loyal hound in Garen’s eyes, and then, at an opportune moment, send assassins to eliminate Wallace while Garen let his guard down.

A Celestial Dragon would hardly spare much thought for the death of a mere servant, and then Sterry could seize the chance to replace the Michael family as the Celestial Dragon’s subordinate, and even marry the princess in Wallace’s stead.

With this idea, Sterry’s behavior before Garen became even more obsequious. Just a glance from Garen made him tremble with excitement.

Before Garen could approach, Sterry eagerly hurried over and greeted him warmly:

“Lord Garen!”

“Aren’t you about to leave?” Sterry continued, words spilling out as if shot from a cannon. “Is there anything else you require?”

“Please, just give the word, and I will do everything in my power to satisfy you!”

“Haha…” Garen replied with a hearty smile, matching Sterry’s enthusiasm: “Sterry, you truly are an interesting fellow! I have high hopes for you!”

Sterry was so elated by Garen’s praise that he could barely contain himself. Wearing a fawning grin, he replied humbly, “Thank you for your kind words, Lord Garen!”

Sterry glanced at Wallace and Uncle Borgin, whom Garen had left at a distance, then ventured tentatively, “Lord Garen! If you’d be so gracious, I’d like to invite you to our Outlook family estate for a visit. Whatever the Michael family can offer, I can…”

“There’s no rush, no rush,” Garen said with a gentle smile. “Why don’t I give you a gift first?”

“A gift?” Sterry was so overwhelmed that he could barely speak. “What an honor…”

“Then you’d better hold it carefully,” Garen said with a sly smile, extending the miniature pistol in his palm toward Sterry.

Sterry quickly accepted the pistol with both hands, holding it reverently and examining it intently.

It was indeed a fine weapon, but…

Why did it look just like the self-defense pistol he’d bought from a black market dealer in the Kingdom of Goa? Then he remembered: such high-quality goods were always smuggled from the Grand Line into the East Blue. That the Celestial Dragon possessed one was hardly surprising.

As Sterry scrambled to find the right words to express his gratitude, Garen leaned in and whispered, “I’ve given you the gun. Aren’t you going to fire a shot?”

Bang!

The words had barely left his lips when a piercing gunshot rang out.

Everyone present was stunned.

Sterry stood there gripping the pistol tightly, his finger frantically squeezing the trigger, pouring bullets into Lord Garen at point-blank range.

Someone was firing at a Celestial Dragon?!!

The old king’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets in horror, the nobles were thrown into panic, Borgin was utterly incredulous, and only Wallace and Nami remained unperturbed.

Ever since Garen had grown stronger and sturdier, bullets that once could pierce his chest now could not so much as dent his armor—they merely sparked dazzlingly against the steel, depriving Garen’s ever-improving acting skills of much of their challenge.

The bullets could not harm Garen, but Sterry, in a mad frenzy, kept firing.

Garen, unscathed, nonetheless clutched his chest and abdomen, contorting his face in a pained expression.

After the two seconds of his taunt skill elapsed, Sterry finally stopped, horror-stricken:

“What… what’s going on?”

“You’re asking me?” Garen roared in feigned agony, “If not for this armor, I’d be dead by your hand!”

“I—I didn’t…” Sterry stammered, waving the pistol in panic, his face drained of blood. “But… but you gave me this gun…”

Yet not a soul present would listen to his plea.

The old king and prince rushed to steady the “anguished” Garen, their faces flushed and spittle flying as they denounced Sterry:

“Sterry! Have you lost your mind?!”

“How dare you attack Lord Garen!!”

Sterry was not alone in his terror; the king, prince, and all the nobles were utterly petrified.

To attack a Celestial Dragon was to court certain death—and not just for oneself. If anything happened to “Lord Garen,” or if he sought vengeance, not even Goa’s status as a World Government member nation could shield it from the wrath of the Celestial Dragons.

This was a calamity that could doom the entire kingdom!

All because of that madman!!

As terror and shock gripped the royal family and nobles, their eyes turned upon Sterry with venomous hatred.

Sterry’s mind went blank. He had no idea what had just happened, nor how to escape this fatal impasse.

Confronted with the old king’s furious reprimands, Sterry could only mutter dully, “I didn’t, I really didn’t…”

But Garen was not about to let him off so easily.

Maintaining his mask of pain and rage, Garen shouted at the king and prince clutching him:

“He tried to assassinate me?!”

“You all must die! All of you must die!”

The old king trembled violently, attempting a feeble defense:

“L-Lord Garen!”

“It was all that madman Sterry! We had nothing to do with it!”

The prince, red-faced with fury, pointed at Sterry and cursed:

“You madman!”

“The Outlook family will be erased from the Kingdom of Goa today!”

The shattered Sterry could only repeat his futile defense: “I didn’t, I really didn’t…”

But Garen, seeing his taunt skill’s cooldown quietly end, added fuel to the fire for this “hero” who had just attempted to assassinate a Celestial Dragon before a crowd:

“Madness Taunt.”

At that moment, Sterry seemed to inherit the iron will of the fish-man hero Fisher Tiger, once again unleashing a hail of righteous bullets against the loathsome “World Noble.”

Gunfire erupted anew.

The great hero Sterry accomplished what none had before—attacking a Celestial Dragon twice in succession.

This time, however, the unfortunate victims were not Garen.

Standing too close to Garen, the king and prince became the unwilling targets of Sterry’s trembling, indiscriminate aim.

Garen himself remained unscathed, but the old king and his son both clutched their chests and collapsed in a pool of blood.

“You—you are utterly mad now!” the old king screamed, clutching his bleeding wound, eyes bulging with rage and terror. “Guards!”

“Kill this man!”

The nobles and guards, who had been frozen in shock, finally snapped to their senses and surged forward like madmen.

Feigning even greater agony, Garen cast his gaze toward the distant throng of noble attendants, silently anticipating the appearance of a certain figure.

There was a little-noticed feature on Garen’s system interface: the mini-map. It showed the terrain within a kilometer, displaying every person within range as an avatar on the map panel.

In the world of pirates, where few relied on stealth or assassination, and most preferred direct confrontation, Garen rarely found use for this function in his many battles.

Still, he could identify those around him by the avatars on the map.

From the moment he stepped out of the palace gates, Garen had spotted a conspicuous bald-headed icon on the mini-map.

And Sterry did not disappoint.

In the face of utter despair, his survival instinct finally awakened.

Sterry shouted to the nondescript noble attendants in the distance:

“Come save me! Get me out of here!!”

No one answered.

On the brink of death, Sterry’s mind worked with surprising clarity. He recalled the various contingency clauses in his contract with the assassin.

And so he wailed like a stuck pig:

“Don’t wait any longer! I’ll pay more! I’ll pay more!”

From the crowd, a bald man emerged.