"You... I... sigh."
Shanks pointed a finger at Takero, the words catching in his throat. In the end, all that came out was a sigh full of helplessness. He had seen that this group of Blood Axe Pirates meant trouble from the moment they arrived. His plan was to tease them a bit, enjoy a classic pirate standoff, and maybe blow off some steam before the "devil training" began. But just as he was getting into the rhythm and preparing to put on a show, Takero had flipped the whole table over.
That sudden, bloody headshot hadn't just startled the Blood Axe Pirates; it had splattered Shanks's face with a warm, gory "surprise." It wasn't that he was against fighting—he was never soft on his enemies—but couldn't the kid at least give a warning before attacking? Especially at such close range. His clothes were new!
Looking at Takero's eyes, which were trying very hard to look innocent, all of Shanks's complaints just seemed to dissolve into the sea breeze with that one long sigh. "Next time... next time, before you make a move, just give me a signal, okay? A nod, a look, anything. Understand?" He wiped the last of the blood from his face, trying to hold onto what little authority he had left as captain.
"Alright, stop being so dramatic!" Takero frowned impatiently, his battle intent practically steaming off him. "So, are you going to fight or not? Because if you're not, I'm going in."
"Fine, you go..." Shanks waved his hand helplessly, but his words were cut short.
Whoosh!
Takero had already shot forward like an arrow, carrying a wild aura as he charged straight into the stunned crowd of pirates. Shanks's raised hand froze in mid-air, and he could only let out another long, tired sigh. He felt like ever since Takero came on board, the number of times he sighed per day had gone up exponentially. If this kept up, he wouldn't be defeated by some powerful enemy; he'd die from the stress of dealing with this kid.
"Maybe I should just find an island and drop him off," Shanks muttered to himself, rubbing his temples.
At that moment, the deck had become Takero's personal hunting ground. The fanaticism for battle that was burned into every Saiyan's DNA was completely unleashed. He moved like a tiger pouncing into a flock of sheep, every punch and kick delivered with unstoppable power and chilling precision. As he smashed one enemy's head in with a punch, the smile that spread across his face was one of pure, almost cruel, joy.
His steel-hard fists tore through the air. The pirates didn't even have time to scream or curse before a dull crunch of bone ended their consciousness forever. Blood splattered like cheap paint, dyeing him crimson in seconds. But Takero didn't seem to notice. His face showed only a craving for more violence, and the flames of excitement burned in his pure black eyes. He didn't need to shout or make threats; the sheer, overwhelming brutality of his attack was enough to grip the hearts of the surviving pirates with ice-cold fear. For Takero, however, this was just a simple warm-up.
"Hahaha, I'm just getting started! Don't bother begging for mercy, because I'm not stopping!"
Amidst his wild laughter, Takero stomped his foot down with immense force. The thick oak deck groaned and cracked under the impact. Propelled by the powerful push, he launched himself high into the air like a crimson hurricane.
Boom! Boom!
Two dull explosions, like heavy hammers striking drums, erupted almost at the same time. When Takero landed, the heads of the two pirates closest to him exploded like watermelons. Shattered bits of skull, brain, and blood flew everywhere, leaving two headless bodies to slowly crumple to the ground.
That hellish scene finally shattered the nerves of the remaining pirates.
"Fire! Fire now! Kill this monster!" the first mate of the Blood Axe Pirates shrieked, his voice distorted with terror.
The instinct to survive finally overcame their fear. The remaining pirates clumsily raised their old firearms and, without even bothering to aim, frantically pulled the triggers at the crimson figure.
Bang, bang, bang—!
Gunpowder smoke filled the air as hot lead bullets flew everywhere. But it was all a useless struggle. Takero didn't even bother to use his Ki for defense. The bullets fired from the old flintlock pistols simply bounced off his body with dull thuds, like raindrops hitting a rock. They couldn't even leave a scratch before they deformed and fell to the deck. This pathetic attack, which wasn't even as annoying as a mosquito bite, only served to irritate him.
"Boring."
A hint of impatience flashed in Takero's eyes as he looked at the group of weaklings who weren't even good enough to be punching bags. He had completely lost interest in them. He suddenly raised his right hand, and a dangerous, glowing red energy ball instantly formed in his palm.
Whoosh—!
The energy blast shot from his hand like a death sentence, landing right in the middle of the densest part of the crowd.
Boom!
A blinding red light and a violent explosion swallowed their screams. When the light faded, all that was left was a scorched pit in the deck and a few scattered limbs. All resistance had come to an abrupt and silent end.
"My ship! Hey, watch where you're aiming!" Shanks's annoyed shout came from the sidelines.
Takero gave him a thumbs-up. "Don't worry, I controlled my strength."
He casually rolled his shoulders, his joints making crisp cracking sounds. The battle had barely felt like a stretch. "Tsk, opponents at this level... It seems like if I want a real fight, I still have to spar with you guys," he said, shaking the blood from his hands, his tone full of disappointment.
"Spare me," Shanks said as he walked over, directing his crew to start cleaning up the "trash" on the deck. He was secretly alarmed. He could have sworn that the power and speed Takero had just shown were even greater than before. Is this kid really getting stronger with every single fight? he wondered.
He kept his thoughts to himself, instead looking at the messy, blood-stained deck and smacking his lips. "Tsk, tsk, so brutal... Beckman and the others worked so hard to clean this deck this morning. Now we have to do it all over again."
Takero couldn't be bothered with his nagging. The invisible Ki around him vibrated slightly. With a soft buzz, all the sticky blood and grime clinging to his clothes and skin was repelled, falling back onto the deck.
Shanks, finding himself ignored, just chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "So, uh... Takero," he began, "what do you plan on doing with all these 'spoils of war'?" According to pirate law, all the wealth on a defeated enemy's ship belonged to the victor.
"Not interested. You guys can have it," Takero said with a wave of his hand, not even looking back. Besides legendary items like the Dragon Balls, he had no interest in things like gold, treasure, or Berries. All he cared about was getting stronger.
"Oh, but we couldn't possibly accept! After all, you earned it..." Shanks said politely, but his actions were much faster than his words. He immediately turned to his eagerly waiting crew and waved his hand grandly. "Did you all hear that? Brother Takero is being generous! Lads, get a move on! Move everything valuable over to the Red Force! We wouldn't want to let our brother's good intentions go to waste!"
He couldn't really be blamed for being so eager for loot. Takero's Saiyan appetite was so huge that he alone could eat half of the kitchen's supplies. As the captain responsible for such a big eater, it was his duty to be thrifty and find ways to bring in more income.