005. Don't Move!

Flevance was the pearl of the North Blue, its land riddled with veins of precious platinum-lead ore.

So much so that the entire country had been dyed white.

As if it had never known a speck of dust.

A dreamlike white kingdom.

That was Flevance.

There were countless business opportunities here.

Wealth flowed without end.

People from the surrounding seas often came here to strike it rich and settle down.

Merlin's father was one of them, but he had bad luck. He was caught in a mining disaster and buried here.

Merlin didn't have a very clear understanding of this world's future. He knew what happened before the future King, Luffy, entered Dressrosa and defeated Doflamingo, but after that point, most of what he knew came from posts and videos.

Merlin knew Flevance's future well enough: it would be baptized in cannon fire and burned to ashes in a raging inferno.

Almost none of its people would survive.

Merlin didn't want to die. He wanted to live. Only by surviving could he have a future.

The country's Royal family had known for a hundred years that mining platinum-lead harmed living beings, but they had chosen to conceal the truth alongside the World Government.

Feasting greedily on the people's suffering.

They had deceived the whole world and made a fortune. Now the Royal family had already left aboard a government ship.

With their vast wealth, accumulated over a century, they might buy land and people on another island and continue ruling as the Royal family of some country.

They would live it up and enjoy every bit of it.

As he threaded his way through the streets, Merlin recalled all the information he knew.

Bang, bang!

Gunshots rang out again on the distant street, and Merlin quickened his pace.

Two minutes later, just as he ran out of an alley, Merlin abruptly stepped back. Three soldiers in protective suits, carrying guns, had appeared on the street not far away.

Catching his breath, Merlin looked up at the two-and-a-half-meter wall beside him. He crouched, jumped, grabbed the top with both hands, and hauled himself onto it.

Crouching atop the wall, he watched the soldiers running toward him in the distance. Then he glanced at the courtyard inside the wall and nimbly climbed down, landing steadily on the lawn.

This was Flevance's central district, where most of the residents were rich or noble.

From Merlin's memories, this seemed to be the estate of some Viscount.

He had heard the man liked collecting expensive swords and other weapons.

But now the place was utterly quiet, and the mansion was pitch-black.

With Nezumi's help, Merlin had gained a faint ability to see in the dark.

He pressed himself against the wall and didn't move. Before long, hurried footsteps sounded from the other side of it, followed by voices.

"Where'd that guy go?"

"He must've run off!"

"He might've already made it into one of the nearby estates."

"True. Should we go in and look?"

"Forget it. One little rat isn't worth the trouble. We should get back to clearing out the infected around here. They're all going to meet the same end anyway."

The footsteps began to fade. Merlin's gaze remained calm as he continued to slow his breathing, but a minute later, hurried footsteps sounded again.

They had doubled back.

"Looks like the little rat really did run off. Let's head into the estates and clear out the garbage here."

"Fine. We'll start here."

Merlin slowly looked up toward the top of the wall. A soldier climbed over and, after looking around for a few seconds, declared it safe before jumping down.

Merlin's eyes turned cold. Watching the man less than half a meter away, he didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, locked his left arm around the man's neck, and viciously plunged his dagger into the side of his neck. Then he drew the blade sideways, slicing through the soft cartilage of his throat with a sharp crunch.

Blood gushed out.

By then, another soldier had climbed onto the wall and jumped down.

Merlin suddenly shoved the convulsing soldier toward him. The man was clearly startled, but in the darkness he couldn't see properly. Thinking the other soldier had stumbled, he reached out to steady him.

At that moment, Merlin lunged forward, driving his left knee viciously into the man's groin. A dull, wet smack rang out.

The soldier's mouth fell open, and his legs gave way as he dropped to his knees. A flash of light swept past. Merlin gripped his dagger with both hands and plunged it into the back of the man's neck, the tip emerging from his mouth.

The flurry of movements had taken no more than five seconds. The third man climbed over the wall and spotted that something was wrong. Merlin yanked out his dagger and leaped up, bracing his left hand on the wall as he drove the blade into the man's thigh.

Then he let go of the dagger, grabbed the man by the collar, and dragged him off the wall.

Merlin landed on the ground and picked up a rifle. Gripping it by the barrel, he swung the butt hard into the man's head.

A dull thud mingled with a scream. Merlin kept swinging for more than ten seconds, until the soldier fell silent.

Merlin quickly bent down, pulled his dagger from the man's leg, and stabbed him in the neck.

After making sure he was dead, Merlin dropped onto the ground and began panting hard.

The sharp stench of blood kept filling his nostrils. His throat worked, and his stomach clenched. Merlin took deep breaths until he adjusted.

Looking at the three corpses around him, Merlin breathed heavily and muttered:

"If you didn't die, I would. It's only because I'm stronger than you right now that things ended this way."

He had no deep grudge against them, and Merlin felt no particular attachment to Flevance. But they had chosen to attack him, so they must have been prepared for him to turn the tables.

Merlin couldn't exactly say he hated what was happening to Flevance.

They weren't the ones responsible.

But that didn't mean he'd go easy on them.

This was war.

Even if he was the only one fighting it.

Merlin's gaze hardened. He looked over their equipment and began to loot it.

Five minutes later,

Nine egg-shaped hand grenades lay beside him, along with three five-shot rifles and one of the protective suits the soldiers wore.

Merlin took off his clothes and changed into a protective suit that was about his size.

The shoes were a little too big, but it didn't matter. Merlin cut up another man's undershirt with his dagger and stuffed the pieces inside to make them fit.

He packed his belongings into their sturdier backpack and slung it over his shoulders. He clipped a gas mask to his belt, picked up a rifle he didn't know how to use, and hung eight hand grenades on his right hip.

Merlin looked at the grenade in his hand. It was similar in shape to the German M39 from his previous life.

After a brief inspection, he pressed down the safety lever, pulled the pin, and hurled it as hard as he could into the distance. At the same time, he counted silently. One... two... three... four... BOOM!

A deafening explosion rang out sixty meters away, accompanied by a burst of fire.

Judging by the blast, its radius was about five meters, and it had taken four or five seconds to detonate.

Merlin's eye twitched as he marveled at it. Weapons in this world really did develop in strange ways.

In his memories, guns in the East Blue were still limited to single-shot flintlock pistols and smoothbore rifles.

But here in the North Blue, there were repeating rifles and revolvers. Even hand grenades and Flamethrowers had already appeared.

He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and looked toward the mansion's main building.

He remembered that the Viscount here was fond of collecting expensive swords. He wondered if any were still inside.

With his dagger in hand, Merlin walked lightly toward the main building.

Before long, he reached a floor-to-ceiling window on one side of the mansion. He swung the rifle butt in his left hand at the glass, smashing it with a crack.

Merlin didn't hurry inside. Instead, he stayed hidden outside the window and listened carefully for any other sounds within.

Then he heard a hoarse, "Meow!" from inside. Merlin's eyes showed a flicker of thought.

"Didn't this Viscount also keep a young lynx, along with his sword collection?"

At the thought, a gleam appeared in Merlin's eyes. He stepped through the shattered window.

The dim interior couldn't block Merlin's vision. The place was lavishly decorated, and three sword stands stood to the right.

Two of them were empty, but the last held a long sword in the style of a katana. Delight flashed in Merlin's eyes.

He hurried over and slid his dagger back into the sheath strapped to his right leg. Then he reached for the blade. Just then, a cold voice came from behind him:

"Don't move. Drop your weapon, or I'll shoot."

Merlin's gaze sharpened. He dropped the rifle in his hand.

"Turn around."

The voice spoke again.

Merlin slowly turned. A middle-aged man stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, bloodstained bandages wrapped around his chest.