The burly old man extended a scar-covered hand and pointed toward Rossi.
"Sir, please return our navigator."
Rossi did not hesitate.
He thrust the small, green-haired figure in his arms forward, as casually as tossing away some inconsequential clutter.
The girl traced a short arc through the air before the old man caught her securely. Her feet landed with a soft thud.
The old man turned, his leather soles grinding over loose stones.
But the green-haired child turned her head, her eyes startlingly bright in her dirty little face.
She raised a finger and pointed straight at Rossi.
"Remember this-Balph Misaoli. That's my name."
Her voice was sharp and shrill, like broken glass scraping across stone. "Navigator of the White Dragon Pirates.
"In the New World-"
"Oni, keep up."
"Coming, Uncle Anok!"
The old man and the child soon disappeared into the smoke and dust hanging over the docks.
Across the ruined battlefield, people wearing the same emblem began to move, lifting their unconscious or ** companions and boarding the merchant ships moored along the shore.
Mooring ropes were severed, and sails rose with a clatter.
They spared the other scattered pirate crews not so much as a glance-mere vermin trailing behind a predator to lick up its scraps.
Apart from the ship belonging to the family, not a single vessel remained at the docks.
White Dragon's people took everything that could sail, along with the cargo in the holds.
They had not come away empty-handed, even if their planned plundering had never fully gotten underway.
Rossi stood where he was, feeling the searing ache in his lungs.
Continuing the fight would not change the outcome.
Everyone knew what a Zoan user meant: almost savage vitality, the sound of muscles writhing as wounds healed, and biting that never stopped until