A Gift: Plant My Flag on Your Ancestral Grave

Vancarlo scratched his head and laughed.

"Vice captain, looks like your acting was too convincing. Someone really took us for idiots."

The vice captain acted startled, striking an exaggerated pose as he said in mock surprise:

"Oh! But Captain Giant Lion, I was imitating you. Could it be that you're the idiot..."

Crack!

A whip snapped sharply against the ground, and the vice captain's entire demeanor turned ice-cold.

"Leave this to me, Captain. Weaklings who haven't been tempered by the sea aren't worthy of you lifting a finger."

"You bastard! If you want to get to our boss, you'll have to step over our corpses!"

Hess and Amber stood in front of Rebel, one on either side, one holding a rolling pin and the other a boat oar.

Swish, swish, swish, swish!

Crack!

The vice captain's whip lashed rapidly through the air with sharp cracks, striking at them with a fierce rush of wind.

Hess's rolling pin and Amber's oar snapped instantly. Their bodies flew backward like rag dolls, and savage wounds were left on their faces, the flesh torn open.

"Keep your hands off my dear subordinates!"

Rebel shook his head, let out a low roar, and swung his heavy bat at the vice captain.

The vice captain moved nimbly, his whip lashing Rebel again and again while he kept plenty of distance between them.

"Do you know the secret to taming a beast?"

The vice captain gave a mocking smile. "It's a long enough whip. Drive the beast into a helpless rage, and its anger will burn away all its dignity until it admits it's worthless. How long can a beast like you hold out?"

Covered in blood, Rebel gritted his teeth and shouted, "Hess, use Golden Pitch!"

Hess clutched his face, grimacing in pain, but at those words he immediately scrambled up and pulled a yellow metal ball from behind his waist.

He crossed his legs, leaned backward, and used the force of his spin to hurl the ball at Rebel with all his might!

"Bastard pirates, this is the will of the gang!"

Bang!

The metal ball hurtled forward!

It slammed into Rebel's bat with a deafening bang.

"Whose whip is longer now?!"

Rebel's gaze was fierce, his forehead covered in blood, his presence like that of a demon god. The metal ball, already flying at high speed, suddenly accelerated even further after striking the bat.

Thud!

The metal ball struck the vice captain hard in the lower abdomen, making him vomit blood on the spot!

Vancarlo strode over to Hess, furious. "Who told you to interfere in the duel?! Blunt Strike Execution!"

The enormous spiked club smashed Hess's frail body into the ground with overwhelming force.

Hess lost consciousness on the spot. Every bone in his body broke, piercing through his flesh and protruding from it as blood sprayed everywhere.

"Hey, hey, hey! My vice captain, are you still alive?"

Two jets of white vapor shot from Vancarlo's nostrils as he glared at Rebel.

"I-I'm okay. I still have a third of my health bar..."

The pirates dragged the vice captain out of the battlefield. He lay limp on the dock like a dead dog, blood still spilling from his mouth.

Dozens of pirates were ganging up on Rebel and Amber. The two stood back to back, blood and tears mingling on their faces, with no time even to mourn.

"Landlubber trash, apologize to my vice captain with your lives!"

Thud, thud, thud, thud...

Bang!

Vancarlo's enormous body moved at an utterly unreasonable speed. His spiked club whistled through the air and sent Rebel and Amber flying with a heavy blow, smashing through several buildings in succession and sending rubble and dust flying.

"Protect Rebel!"

"There are no cowards on Cook Street!"

"You wicked pirates, kill every last one of us if you've got the guts!"

A group of neighbors rushed out with tears in their eyes, brandishing all kinds of weapons.

Cooks held cleavers, porters carried shoulder poles, women brought hot water, children clutched stones, and even the tottering elderly raised their walking sticks.

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't come over here!"

The isolated vice captain panicked. He was in the neighbors' path, and after they surrounded him, he let out a few screams before their assortment of strange weapons beat him unconscious in moments.

"Bastards, how dare you attack the Giant Lion Pirates!"

Seeing this, Vancarlo's eyes turned blood-red. He grabbed his spiked club and gave a great shout, about to charge into the crowd.

"Cook Street won't bow to pirates!"

At that moment, the neighbors too resolved to die. They raised their weapons and glared fiercely at Vancarlo.

"Good grief! Sorry to interrupt, but could I ask for directions?"

A tall figure wearing a crying-face mask and a white trench coat strolled leisurely through the air, a map in his hand.

Vancarlo stopped and swallowed. "A Devil Fruit User who can fly?"

"You don't know Geppo?"

The man in the crying-face mask landed smoothly on the dock.

"You see, my colleague in CP0 told me he came here on two small assignments three years ago, so I followed the map he gave me.

Places that aren't Affiliated Nations are such a hassle. I flew all the way around the island before I found this-"

The man in the crying-face mask scratched his head and looked down at the map again.

"Right, Cook Street! I'm looking for Muscle Bat King of Cook Street. He's a novelist. Could I trouble you to give me some information?"

Vancarlo hid his spiked club behind his back and pointed a trembling finger at the kingdom's nobles' towering castle.

"Go ask over there. There's no way commoners in a non-Affiliated Nation can read..."

Vancarlo didn't consider himself a simple-minded brute. He had no desire to offend a powerful man whose strength he couldn't gauge.

None of the neighbors connected it to Rebel either. After all, as they knew him, although Rebel was a kind, powerful, and pure-hearted big brother to them, in daily life he was almost as uncultured as they were.

"Thanks. I've met a kind pirate, it seems..."

The man in the crying-face mask looked toward the castle and stepped over Hess, who was covered in blood and unconscious.

Then he walked around Rebel, who was covered in wounds and could barely speak.

"Wait..."

Amber lay slumped among the rubble, his breath faint, and softly called out to the man in the crying-face mask.

The man in the crying-face mask tilted his head and raised a finger, pointing it at Amber's head.

"Good grief, I don't mind hearing your last words, but I'm on a mission..."

Amber coughed up two mouthfuls of blood. "My boss is called Rebel. He's Muscle Bat King..."

The force gathering at the masked man's fingertip dispersed. He crouched down and said earnestly:

"Oh, good thing I didn't kill you outright. That would've been a hassle...

My good friend, where's your boss now? My boss wants to meet him."

Vancarlo called out urgently, "Sir, don't believe him! He's dying, so now he's just making things up to deceive you!"

After waiting a long time without an answer, the man in the crying-face mask patted Amber's face. "Hey, can you still talk or not? I'm in a hurry!"

Amber forced his eyes open and painfully adjusted his breathing.

"Sir, the person you're looking for should be in the castle. Please don't let him fool you."

Vancarlo kept shouting.

The man in the crying-face mask sighed and raised a finger at him.

"Noisy pirate! Flying Finger Pistol!"

Whoosh!

Force burst forth with a bang!

A wound appeared through Vancarlo's lower abdomen. His enormous four-meter-tall body flew more than ten centimeters into the air before crashing down, blood gushing out.

"All hands, set sail! Run!"

Vancarlo's face was full of terror. His huge body writhed on the ground as he crawled frantically toward the pirate ship.

The pirates didn't abandon their captain. They all ran over to help him.

Amber pointed toward Rebel. "He... he's Muscle Bat King."

The man in the crying-face mask found a slightly cleaner spot on Amber's body, pinched it between two fingers, and carried him over to Rebel.

"Are you Muscle Bat King?" the masked man asked.

Rebel was completely unconscious, let alone able to answer.

The man in the crying-face mask clutched his head in distress.

"What a hassle! How am I supposed to report back with him half-dead?!"

Killing intent surged, and the man in the crying-face mask called out impatiently, "Hey, wait a moment! Stay right where you are and don't move."

The pirates jolted and froze where they stood, not daring to move again.

The man in the crying-face mask stood up and gestured toward the pirates with his thumb raised.

"Forty percent of my strength should be enough..."

Boom!

He drew his fist back to his waist, pitch-black Armament Haki humming as it spread over his arm. The terrifying pressure made the pirates' legs tremble.

"Whatever the reason, sir! We know we were wrong. Please spare us..."

Vancarlo's enormous body suddenly fell to its knees, and he begged for mercy, weeping bitterly.

The next second, a wave of Armament Haki, almost tangible, erupted from the masked man's fist. It was like a primeval beast roaring as it broke out of its cage, or a millstone weighing tens of thousands of pounds, grinding everything to dust...

The pirates, the pirate ship, the stone dock...

Rumble-

In an instant, they vanished in the explosion...

"Trouble and the people who cause it are what I hate most!"

The man in the crying-face mask pulled a Den Den Mushi from his trench coat and slowly dialed.

"Saint Longinus, um... I've found Baseball King."

"It's Muscle Bat King..."

The boy's voice on the other end was clear and casual.

The man in the crying-face mask seemed to realize something. "Right, right, right. There's a metal bat beside him, so it should be the right person."

"Bring him back to the Holy Land. The five old men have their noses buried in his 'Cook Street' every day now, hoping to gain some wisdom. If they still haven't gained anything in a few days, they'll probably order him killed."

The boy wore a nasty, gloating expression. It was impossible to tell whether he wanted Bat King dead or alive.

The man in the crying-face mask scratched his chin. "Saint Longinus, there's a little trouble. He's badly injured right now, so I might have to report back later."

The Den Den Mushi's expression suddenly turned grave. "Who did it?"

The man in the crying-face mask nodded slightly. "Pirates did it, Saint Longinus."

The icy voice seemed to come from hell.

"Then... did you get a good look at their flag?"

The man in the crying-face mask immediately looked around and realized he'd hit too hard. Forget the flag-there wasn't even a scrap left nearby. He said in a panic:

"Um... I didn't notice. I wiped them out with one punch... Saint Longinus, did you want to desecrate their corpses?"

"Well done, Evan!"

The boy's tone grew warm again, and he laughed heartily. "Everyone who sails under a pirate flag deserves to die. If only the Marines were all as swift and decisive as you."

Evan breathed a sigh of relief. Watching the dark clouds on the horizon part and let down several brilliant rays of golden light, he yawned and asked:

"Saint Longinus, do you have any other orders?"

The corners of the Den Den Mushi's mouth rose. "A gift: Bat King may plant one of my flags on his ancestral grave."

"You mean the Villains' flag?"

"Yes, Evan."

"Understood, Saint Longinus."

"Ka-chunk~"

The Den Den Mushi closed its eyes.