Only when Loa's golden slit pupils locked onto him did Old Ghost understand why the Swordsman had looked so wretched.
Loa had struck in anger, focusing most of his attention on the Swordsman, the "Drunkard" who had ambushed him. Even so, the burst of Dragon's Might left Old Ghost struggling to breathe. He was still far better off than the Swordsman.
"I know." Seeing that Loa was still willing to answer him, Old Ghost breathed a sigh of relief.
If Loa would answer, there was still room to talk.
What Old Ghost had feared was that Loa would say nothing and simply kill them. Then it would all be over, with no chance to turn things around.
Coughing, Old Ghost sat cross-legged on the ground and steadied his breathing.
Suddenly, his body shrank at a visible rate, as though a pair of invisible hands were squeezing a waterlogged sponge dry.
Steam poured from all around him. His skin faded from red to white, soon losing every trace of color.
When the steam cleared, the figure before Loa was a withered old man. His skin was a deathly Bai, and he was so thin that he looked like skin stretched over bone.
Loa watched him without a change in expression, waiting for his reason.
He might be kindhearted, and he might have arrived in this chaotic world of pirates less than half a year ago, but he was no saint. He would show no mercy to those who deserved to die.
For now, he wanted to give Old Ghost a chance as a sign of respect for what he had done.
Old Ghost understood how grave the situation was. If events had followed his earlier plan, the other two could certainly have escaped, since Loa had already been holding back.
But