Justice That Came Too Late Did Not Deserve to Be Called Justice

The waters of the West Blue had never been so calm...

Gern stood on the warship's deck, one hand resting on the hilt of Black Blade: Eight Desolations, his gaze fixed on the outline of an island slowly emerging in the distance.

"Report! Ashport is just ahead!" A Marine hurried over, a trace of unease in his voice.

"According to our intelligence, the Blood Spear Pirates landed this morning..."

"Landed this morning..." Gern gave no reply beyond those words, merely narrowing his eyes.

Ashport-a renowned fishing town in the West Blue-produced precious luminous pearls. Its residents had made their living by fishing for generations, enjoying peaceful, prosperous lives.

Yet now, the town that should have been basking in the morning light lay shrouded in an eerie, deathly silence.

The warship slowly approached the shore. A strange smell drifted through the air... charcoal, blood, and rotting flesh.

Gern's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

"Something's wrong..." A Marine behind him swallowed. "It's too quiet here..."

When the warship finally docked, everyone froze.

Blood.

The ground across the entire harbor had been stained dark red. The thick blood had yet to dry, and boots stepping into it made a sickening squelch.

Bodies lay piled in every direction. Some had been pinned to wooden crates by spears through their chests; others had their limbs hacked off and been discarded along the roadside like rags.

"Urgh!" A young Marine recruit finally doubled over and vomited.

Gern paid him no attention and strode forward, his military boots pressing into the sticky surface of Ashport's dock.

On either side of the street, houses had burned down to charred skeletons. The flames had long since died, but the thick smoke had yet to disperse.

Several charred corpses lay curled in the ruins, still frozen in the poses of their final struggles.

The fully laden fishing boats once moored in the harbor had been burned down to their frames. Their blackened wreckage floated on the water, while submerged bodies could just barely be seen below, like a shoal of drowned fish.

And this was only the harbor!!!!

"Those pirate animals..." A Marine following Gern gritted his teeth, his clenched fists cracking.

Gern never broke stride. His gaze swept over every gruesome sight, his expression still as cold and hard as iron.

Until he reached the fishing town...

The entire town famed for its luminous pearls had become hell.

Bodies lay twisted and piled in the streets. Some had been pinned to walls with spears; others had been gutted, their entrails trailing across the ground like dark red carpets.

Children's bodies hung from the lighthouse ropes, swaying gently in the sea breeze.

Their throats had been slit, their blood long since drained away. Only their vacant eyes remained, staring up at the sky.

Outside the tavern, a man's head had been mounted atop a flagpole bearing the Marines' emblem. His jaw had been brutally forced open, and a luminous pearl stuffed into his mouth.

Ashport's specialty had become a mocking "decoration."

The square at the center of town.

There stood a "tower" built from corpses.

Dozens of bodies had been cruelly piled together. At the very top was a little girl, her naked body draped in a Marine flag.

Her throat had been slit, and her hands nailed to wooden stakes on either side, like a butterfly pinned dead in place.

But her eyes were still open, staring emptily at the sky, as though demanding an answer.

"Is... is this even fucking human?!" Many Marines who could not withstand the sight broke down on the spot, roaring in anguish.

Gern simply stared at the "corpse tower" in silence, his eyes terrifyingly fathomless, his fingers digging deep into his clenched fists.

So behind those romanticized feasts Oda depicted... there were children clutching their mothers inside charred buildings...

The civilians before him, nailed to masts as human flags, were all telling Gern the same thing.

Just what kind of world this was... this supposedly freest world of adventure.

"Report! Warrant Officer Gern, we found survivors to the east!" A Marine rushed over.

"Take me there." Gern immediately turned and strode toward a half-collapsed warehouse to the east.

Inside the warehouse, several blood-covered militiamen lay huddled in a corner. One was still alive, but barely breathing.

His abdomen had been pierced, and blood kept pouring out, staining the straw beneath him red.

"Hold on! The medic will be here any moment!" A Marine hurried forward and tried to stop the bleeding.

But the militiaman raised a trembling hand and seized the soldier's collar, his voice hoarse:

"Th-they... deliberately... stalled..."

"What?" The soldier froze.

"The pirates... they... deliberately let us... call for help..." The militiaman's eyes began to lose focus. "They wanted... to lure you... here..."

Gern's gaze abruptly turned icy.

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside the warehouse.

"Warrant Officer Gern! We found the Blood Spear Pirates' ship in the eastern harbor! They... they never left!"

Gern pressed his lips together and slowly rose from beside the militiaman, who had breathed his last. "So this was a hunt."

The Blood Spear Pirates had slaughtered the entire town, yet deliberately left a distress signal, all to wait for the Marines to arrive and wipe them out in one fell swoop!

"Those damned pirates..." The Marine's face was deathly pale.

With Black Blade: Eight Desolations on his back, Gern strode outside, his tone icy. "Which direction?"

The Marine recruit paused at Gern's words, then quickly answered, "The eastern harbor. The Blood Spear Pirates haven't left."

"Understood." Gern's voice was low and cold.

His stride never faltered as he crossed the street, Black Blade: Eight Desolations swaying slightly on his back with each movement.

The Marines on either side straightened and saluted when they saw him, their eyes filled with awe.

"Warrant Officer Gern!" The young Marine caught up to him, hesitation in his voice. "We..."

Gern kept walking, his icy voice carrying distinctly through the sea breeze. "Take the warship out. If any of them slip through, kill them on sight."

"But, sir..." The Marine swallowed. "How many men will you take?"

"No need." Gern cast a long shadow in the sunlight. "I alone will be enough."

"But they're the Blood Spear Pirates! They..." The young Marine's words abruptly died.

He saw Gern suddenly stop, his gaze fixed on the tiny body wrapped in the Marine flag.

The girl's body had already been carried down from the deck, but that blue-and-white flag now felt like a resounding slap in the face.

"All hands, listen up!" Gern's roar silenced the entire dock.

The Marines turned in shock and saw a terrifying fury burning in their warrant officer's eyes.

"The flags on the warship..." His voice trembled with suppressed rage. "Tear every last one of them down!"

"Sir, that's..."

Gern slowly turned, his gaze sweeping over each young face before finally settling on the tiny corpse.

"Justice that comes too late..." His voice was soft, yet it struck every heart like a sledgehammer. "Doesn't deserve to be called justice."

When Gern disappeared beyond the end of the harbor, the young Marines remained rooted to the spot.

No one knew who raised a fist first. Then came the second, the third...

A glimmer of admiration flashed in the young Marines' eyes as they shouted in unison, "Lower the flags!!!"