Blood gushed from Lachet's severed arm as his face turned deathly pale, yet he managed to regain his composure.
A bloodstained, silver-white longsword was already resting on his shoulder. The weight of the blade alone forced him to hunch over.
Gawain stood over him, looking down with an icy gaze that couldn't conceal the killing intent surging within.
"Where are my people and my things?"
The same words, spoken again, carried an even heavier gravity. The pirates on deck felt their hearts drop.
"Hey, hey, hey... is this real?"
"He cut off Lord Lachet's arm just like that?!"
"Don't tell me the East Blue actually gave birth to a monster like this!"
"It's got to be an illusion—there's no way this is real!"
A pirate floundering in the sea stared in disbelief, hoping to deny the horror playing out before him. But the cold seawater around him only sharpened the reality.
Back on deck, Labute—who had just moments ago brimmed with arrogance—now looked like a frightened feline. The hair on his back bristled as he instinctively stepped away to the edge of the deck.
Cold sweat streamed down his face. All trace of bravado had vanished.
He knew he was stronger than Lachet, but only slightly. If Gawain could sever Lachet's arm with such ease… he could just as easily take off his head.
He had only ever felt such overwhelming pressure once before—from his own captain, the man known as the Lizard King.
"Wait!" Labute suddenly cried out.
"We're with the Hanafuda Pirates! Officially recognized by the World Government as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea!"
"Defying us is defying the Warlords—and the World Government itself! Do you really want to face those consequences?"
At that moment, the title of Warlord became Labute's final lifeline.
They'd faced stronger enemies before—but every time, the sight of that flag was enough to make their enemies retreat in fear.
Surely… it would work this time too. Right?
There wouldn't be an exception...
"The Seven Warlords of the Sea?" Gawain paused, the blade still resting on Lachet's trembling shoulder.
Labute's eyes lit up—he thought his words had struck a chord.
He was just about to continue—
Swish!
Before he could get another word out, Labute saw Lachet's head fly into the air—caught cleanly by Gawain's free hand.
The stench of blood sprayed across Labute's face, cutting off the rest of his sentence in a hot, metallic splash.
He stared in numb disbelief, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
Didn't normal pirates run the moment they heard the names World Government or Seven Warlords of the Sea?
Why did this monster exist? And why was he so strong?!
Only Gawain responded, his voice tinged with a mocking tone:
"What a coincidence."
"I was just planning to take the head of a Warlord myself and replace him."
"And here you are, dropping into my lap like a pillow when I'm tired."
"So—this 'Hanafuda' guy, huh?"
Swish.
Gawain flicked the blood from his blade, a faint smile curling on his lips.
"You can go first. He can follow you down there."
Labute's body tensed. A chill surged from his spine to his scalp. His eyes widened in terror, his pupils shrinking to slits.
Bang!
He leapt backward, hurling himself off the deck.
Even though the dark, churning sea was a nightmare for Devil Fruit users, none of that mattered now. He just wanted to escape this madman.
Why had he accepted this job?
Why had the East Blue birthed such a freak?
But above all, he knew this man wasn't bluffing.
He would really kill him without hesitation!
"Spare me! Please—! That woman, and the Devil Fruit—they're both here, I can—"
Mid-air, Labute was still begging for his life when—
Silence.
He froze.
Gawain stood on the deck, sword swinging—but there was no visible flying slash.
Plop.
A heavy splash echoed beside him.
He looked down and saw a headless feline body slowly reverting to human form, swallowed by the waves.
"That's... my body?"
The thought flickered across Labute's mind, and then—darkness.
Plop.
Two nearly synchronized splashes echoed across the sea.
The pirates on deck watched in horror as the heads of Lachet and Labute sank beneath the waves.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
"Even... even monsters like Lord Lachet and Labute... all... all..."
Fear twisted their expressions. The pirates could barely form words. The only thing left was to beg for mercy.
"I-I want to live! Please—don't kill me!"
"They forced me! I never wanted to be a pirate!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A flurry of kneeling echoed across the deck.
Some of them had soiled themselves—yellow and white mixed with the stink of fear.
Gawain scanned the crowd.
Even his unintentional bloodlust was enough to shatter their will to resist.
He chuckled darkly.
"This isn't regret."
"You're just afraid of dying."
Then, more coldly:
"Now, who can tell me where the woman you kidnapped is—and where my Devil Fruit went?"
"I'll spare the one who answers."
The nearest pirate raised his hand instantly.
"I know—!"
But before he could finish, two others tackled him, clamping their hands over his mouth.
They tried to shout first—only to be tackled by more pirates.
In seconds, the deck had turned into a chaotic melee.
Everyone was fighting for their only chance to survive, turning blades on their comrades without hesitation.
Gawain even saw one pirate stab his own ally, pulling out a chunk of bloodied flesh in desperation.
Of course.
How could men like these have true companions?
The scene descended into madness.
Gawain watched in silence.
Until, finally, a young girl stepped out of the cabin.
She walked with steady steps, cradling a beautiful gift box in both hands. Her eyes burned with resolve.
"Mr. Gawain," she whispered. "This is a gift I prepared for you."
The chaos froze.
All eyes turned to Grayza—and the gift box she held.
Some pirates made a move to snatch it—but froze in place.
Gawain's presence crushed them like a mountain. None dared move.
Grayza, witnessing it all, felt nothing but satisfaction.
Back when the port guards were slaughtered, these same pirates had laughed and reveled in blood.
Now they trembled in terror, helpless and pathetic.
How fitting.
They bullied the weak with impunity—but cowered before true power.
Gawain looked at Grayza, momentarily stunned.
It took effort—real effort—to connect the beautiful, radiant girl before him with the plain, unremarkable Grayza from Raven Harbor, just months ago.
A breath of relief escaped him.
And before he could stop himself, he blurted out:
"Did you get plastic surgery?!"