The Eyes Have It

Mo Xingchen led his squad of soldiers without any hesitation, directly entering Island 1. He had expected the place to be filthy, chaotic, and lawless—but to his surprise, this so-called lawless zone was actually quite orderly.

It wasn't until he saw an ordinary restaurant waiter with a sword at his waist and a physique like a bodybuilder that it clicked: anyone who could run a shop here was no pushover.

Ordinary folks probably wouldn't come here, but gangs with real power—or individuals strong enough—wouldn't pass up such a huge profit. After all, pirates were easy money.

It seemed the local gangs had jointly laid down some underground rules that weren't too harsh, and the pirates had tacitly accepted them.

So both sides kept a basic restraint. Pirates needed supplies for their voyages, after all—stir up too much trouble, and even with money, they'd be screwed if no one sold to them. Besides, there was a Marine Branch on the island.

Walking along, Mo Xingchen ignored the fierce-faced, menacing pirates he passed. The pirates noticed the Marines too, but didn't provoke them—just stared coldly. Mutual disgust.

He crossed two islands without making a move. Then, from a weapons shop on Island 3, a few men walked out. Lieutenant William's eyes lit up, and he stepped close to Mo Xingchen.

"Captain Mo, that's the captain of the Tyrannant Pirates, 'Butcher' Shakun, bounty 17 million, and his crew."

Before he finished, Mo Xingchen was already beside the pirates. One punch or kick each, and they lost all combat ability. Within seconds, every one of them was unconscious. Mo Xingchen walked on without looking back.

"If they're not dead, cuff them! William, I don't need to know those scum's names—just report the bounties!"

Then came a sweep.

"27 million." "Cuff him!" "11 million." "Cuff him!" "78 million." "Cuff him!"

They kept sweeping until Island 19, where a group of men in black suits blocked their path.

Mo Xingchen stood there like a statue, silent. The middle-aged leader stepped forward.

"Officer, I am—" "What business?"

Mo Xingchen cut him off. From the tone, this wasn't CP—so it was the mob. He didn't even indulge CP, let alone gangsters.

"I have an arrangement with your base commander, Will—" "He doesn't command me!"

Mo Xingchen interrupted again, thinking: What an idiot. Everyone knew local gangs paid protection to Marine bases, but you don't say that out loud. Say it, and you've made an enemy of me.

"Then how do we settle the losses from your actions?"

Because Mo Xingchen had swept so many islands, the pirates panicked—some tried to flee, triggering looting and destruction. Of course, they only dared because Mo Xingchen looked young and unfamiliar. If it were Garp, these gangs wouldn't even show their faces.

"Heh, settle? Tell your boss to go to Marine Headquarters and ask Fleet Admiral Kong for the money."

Mo Xingchen tilted his head with a cold smirk.

Hearing that, the man fell silent, awkwardly rooted to the spot, unsure what to do.

"Anything else? If not, get out of the way."

Mo Xingchen stepped forward. The soldiers, chests out, followed with their captured pirates. When they reached the gangsters, the men silently parted to make way.

The small-time pirates were panicking—some fled, some hid. But there were always the stubborn. Several Great Pirates with bounties over 100 million gathered to discuss. They figured this Marine operation had no high-ranking officers. Mo Xingchen had skill—he'd captured plenty, including some over 100 million.

But those were single defeats. If they joined forces, they could take down this Marine squad. Their bounties would skyrocket, and more followers would flock to them.

Meanwhile, Mo Xingchen was puzzled. Why were the later islands so empty of pirates? Just a few stragglers. Had they all run?

No way. Were pirates this cowardly now? He wasn't some big name. Until they reached Island 29.

"Boys! Kill these arrogant Marines!" "Boys! Kill them, and your Boss rewards you handsomely!" "..." "Roar!"

Mo Xingchen smiled. So that's where they all went—gathered for a frontal battle.

"Captain Mo, 120 million... 180—" "Heh, William, no need for bounties. Since they dare attack Marines, they've earned death."

Mo Xingchen cut William off. He grabbed two standard-issue swords from soldiers and pulled an unopened bottle of rum from a captured pirate. Turning to Dragon, he raised an eyebrow.

"Watch closely. I'll teach you something cool today."

He took a gulp of rum, sprayed it on the blades, then clashed the swords together with a sharp clang. The blades ignited.

Like a startled swan, he plunged into the crowd. Every spin and leap claimed a pirate's life.

Like a butterfly through flowers, a spirit's dance—weaving between flames and blood. Though it was a brutal, bloody battlefield, Dragon, the soldiers, and even the captured pirates watched mesmerized.

They had never imagined—never seen—that killing could be so elegant, so beautiful.

Until Mo Xingchen emerged at the end of the street, back to them. He shook his arms, extinguishing the flames, and sheathed the swords. As the blades hit the ground with a ding, everyone snapped back to reality.

"Looks like I got carried away. Let's wrap it up—no one left to cuff this time."

Mo Xingchen turned and walked back toward the group. Only then did everyone realize that across the entire battlefield, over a hundred pirates—regardless of their bounties—had all fallen, not a single groan escaping their lips. Dragon, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed that every fatal wound came from a slit throat.

Watching the approaching figure, the soldiers' eyes burned with fervor, while the captured pirates turned pale, their legs trembling, terrified that this guy might just take them out too. They all hung their heads, quiet as quails.

Mo Xingchen slung an arm around Dragon's shoulder and said smugly:

"How was that, bro? Cool or what?"

"Cool."

"Did you pick it up?"

"My eyes picked it up. My hands and feet still haven't."