"Too late. They're already here." Renji Kai stood up with a lazy stretch and a faint smile on his lips.
Douglas Barrett downed the last of his rum in one swift gulp before the two of them stepped out of the tavern.
Once they were outside, the entire street was deserted. At the far end of the road stood a group of armed fishmen, clearly sealing off the town.
"Locking down the town? This pirate crew really thinks highly of themselves," Douglas Barrett scoffed.
"Come on," Renji Kai patted his shoulder, and they both began walking toward the port.
"Stop right there! Come any closer, and we won't show any mercy!" a sharp-snouted fishman with a spear shouted.
But the very next moment, Douglas Barrett sprang into action.
There was no suspense. In an instant, several corpses were left behind on the ground.
The townsfolk peering nervously from their windows gasped. To them, Arlong was already a devil—but this man, Douglas Barrett, was something far worse.
As the two men approached the port, a pirate ship appeared, flying a flag marked with a red, sharp-snouted shark overlaying two crossed skulls.
"Well, they didn't waste any time," Renji Kai remarked with a smirk.
"Guess we're doing the Navy a favor today. Maybe they'll give us an award for 'Outstanding Pirate Conduct'," Douglas replied nonchalantly.
From the ship, more than a dozen pirates jumped ashore.
Leading them was a fishman with a long, jagged nose, wearing an open casual shirt. A sun-shaped tattoo, symbolizing the Sun Pirates, was inked on his chest, while another symbol—representing the Arlong Pirates—was engraved on his left forearm.
It was unmistakable: this was Arlong, the captain of the Arlong Pirates.
Standing beside him were two of his top lieutenants. One was a good-natured-looking fishman with six arms and trumpet-like lips, silver-gray hair bundled in multiple tufts, and a sun tattoo on his forehead—Hachi.
The other was a cartilaginous fishman with hair tied into two upward-pointing spikes and the Sun Pirates symbol tattooed on his chest—Kuroobi.
Behind them were the rest of the Arlong Pirates' crew.
"Who the hell do you two think you are, stirring up trouble on my turf? You've got a death wish?" Arlong barked as he stepped ashore.
"Name's Douglas Barrett. Heard of me?" Barrett replied calmly.
"Ba-Barrett?!" Arlong froze at the name, stumbling over his words.
He'd read this morning's World News, which prominently featured the great pirate of the Roger Era, Douglas Barrett, who had escaped from the heavily guarded Impel Down prison alongside a young accomplice.
Looking now at the two before him, Arlong realized the young man matched the paper's photo exactly.
Swallowing hard, he realized he'd picked the wrong fight. He'd ruled over these weak nearby villages uncontested, but now, faced with two overwhelming powerhouses, he was suddenly unsure of himself.
"Boss, should we kill them?" asked Kuroobi coldly, oblivious to the growing tension. He hadn't read the newspaper and knew little of Barrett's infamy.
Hearing Kuroobi's words, Arlong's face turned pale.
But with so many of his underlings watching, he couldn't just back down. Forcing himself to speak, he asked, "What are you two doing here?"
"Nothing much," Renji Kai said with arms crossed. "Just stopped by for a drink. Then one of your fishmen—bored out of his mind, apparently—came to provoke us. Things escalated from there."
"Sounds like a misunderstanding. You two should leave. I'm not looking to fight today," Arlong said cautiously, testing the waters.
He desperately hoped they'd leave so he could save face in front of his crew.
But clearly, he was hoping for too much.
"Leave? Hell no! If you want to talk, get on your knees and knock your forehead on the ground three times first!" Renji Kai snapped.
He was furious. He knew all about the cruel things Arlong had done to the local people. For this pirate to now speak with arrogance was a direct insult.
Arlong's expression immediately fell.
Kuroobi couldn't take it anymore. With a furious roar, he lunged at Renji Kai!
In a flash, he was upon him, his right fist rocketing toward Renji's face.
But Renji stood there smiling, unmoved.
Just as Kuroobi's punch was about to connect, it stopped—frozen mid-air.
His fist hovered just ten centimeters from Renji's face. And that ten-centimeter gap became an unbridgeable chasm.
In the next moment, Kuroobi coughed up a mouthful of blood. With a look of disbelief, he stared down at the fist now buried in his own gut.
He opened his mouth to speak—but no strength remained to utter a word.