Aos shut his left eye, steadied his breathing as much as he could, and locked his Observation Haki tight onto that tall figure among the Marines,
set his finger lightly on the trigger, and pulled without hesitation,
"One-Shot Style · Fate Kill!!!"
Aspiring to learn from the "naming fruit" ability users, Aos wasn't about to let his cool factor fall below anyone else's,
not even for a basic, Observation-assisted shot.
"Shhk—"
With the sound of flesh tearing, a crimson spray blossomed over the sea, then scattered into the waves below.
The figure falling from the sky was tall—head and shoulders above the surrounding Marines—yet very lean, eyes wide with disbelief and helplessness,
and then he sank slowly into the sea.
"Hey! Kuzan!!!"
A Marine fighting nearby saw this and shouted, kicking into Moonwalk to rush to the rescue,
as a veteran on Vice Admiral Garp's ship, he knew the potential of this recruit and his Devil Fruit power—and that a kid like this couldn't be allowed to die here.
"My ability…"
As Kuzan drifted toward the seabed, pain flared at the base of his thigh, and a numb weakness and suffocating pressure spread through his body,
and one nasty possibility flashed through his mind:
"Who the hell uses Seastone on a random grunt…"
Still, just before he hit the water, he caught a hazy glimpse of the black-gun shooter—looked like a long-haired kid.
"Tch! A man's instincts, huh—missed even with Observation-assisted aim!"
Seeing—via Observation—that he hadn't hit the exact spot he wanted, Aos sighed; which meant the Navy's first-ever female admiral would not come to pass after all.
He clicked his tongue—what a shame,
but he wasn't the type to put all his eggs in one basket,
why not spread the blessings around?
It was, in a sense, for rebalancing the Navy's lopsided yin-yang—balance for the seas!
And so, in a sense, Aos crowned himself king before Roger did.
Ask what kind of king?
The One-Shot King, of course!
"Charging in with a blade and trading cuts is really not my thing. Picking people off from a high perch—that's the true way."
Watching Aos's marksmanship warm up nicely, Bittam—busy handling incoming shells—felt both gratified and clammy with cold sweat,
this brat really didn't play fair.
The chase grew a bit stalemated, but overall the Roger Pirates' average combat power was so high that they held the edge, pulling farther ahead of the warship at steady speed,
"Boom—boom—"
"For the love of Armament Haki…"
Once again, a bullet he "saw" with Observation was blocked at the, uh, Armament-coated pants zone, leaving Aos a bit helpless,
grunts he could handle, but anyone with even a lick of the two Haki colors turned his shots into nothing—hard to track, hard to pierce,
of course, with his fine-grained Observation, not a single enemy bullet could tag Aos either.
"Just wait till I've got Armament and Future Sight—let's see if you can still 'guard the goods' then."
"Clack—"
Quick as a cat, Aos slung his rifle and zipped down the rope from the lookout,
since he hadn't "finished growing," no sense playing at high elo yet—those Conqueror-coated or Armament-laced attacks were touch-and-die, graze-and-bleed for him right now.
The other hands on deck, seeing the small kid with the rifle retreat into the cabins, said nothing,
facing an elite Marine unit, a nine-year-old wasn't much use—and if he insisted on rushing in, they'd only have to cover him.
Same for Buggy and Shanks; the crew had no bandwidth to babysit them, and Aos was no different in their eyes,
even if Aos figured that right now Shanks and Buggy together still couldn't beat him,
to the full-fledged crew, the three brats were roughly the same level—
equally green.
"Hey! Shanks, that guy Aos definitely ducked out ages ago—let's hurry too!"
"Don't be like that, Buggy! This is a man's battle on the sea!"
Sensing two signatures still loitering on deck, Aos paused and headed for the other side of the ship,
truth be told, Aos was a fun-seeker at heart—he liked roaming the world and doing as he pleased,
and the mad dash to grow stronger was so he could seek fun at will, not be made into the fun,
so, spotting two clowns still hanging around on deck, he smiled and didn't rush back to the cabin just yet.
On deck, a red-nosed brat was tugging on a red-haired brat, while a black-rifle-toting brat crept up on them,
looked like Shanks had a sword in hand and wanted in on the fight, while Buggy was trying to drag him to hide—but couldn't budge him—hence the spat,
to be fair, Buggy was foul-mouthed but loyal.
"Buggy, who are you calling a hider?"
Without a sound, Aos clapped a hand on Buggy's back mid-struggle; his whisper in Buggy's ear nearly scared the life out of both of them!
"Aos! You bastard—do your footsteps make no sound?!"
Buggy was his usual sputtering self, but as soon as he finished barking and saw Aos, he immediately thought to rope him in and haul Shanks off to hide,
after all, he didn't dare get close to Garp's warship; on deck they had no real ranged tools, and there were stray bullets to worry about,
not everyone awakens Observation Haki at nine.
"Hey, Aos, let's head back to the cabin together." Buggy was first to propose a tactical retreat, and after a moment's thought, Aos nodded.
Like Aos, Buggy had only recently joined the Roger Pirates—nowhere near the "three days and nights without sleep" guy he'd be years later—and he'd yet to go through any true baptism of battle; a reaction like that was normal,
but looking at Shanks, still sprawled on the rail itching to watch the show, Buggy had a headache—this kid had been adventuring with the Rogers since birth, and his skull was thick,
"What's up?"
Slinging his rifle to casually knock aside a stray bullet, Aos glanced at Buggy's grimace, puzzled,
but the moment he saw Shanks hadn't budged an inch, he understood.
The "Three Scoundrels" usually moved as a set; Shanks wasn't helping—just adding chaos,
this wasn't the Wano war years later where captains fought captains and grunts tangled with grunts and Whitebeard's trainees kept Shanks busy,
these elite Marines could lace their attacks with Haki, and one decent hit could end a nine-year-old redhead,
sure, you'll be a monster someday,
but right now…
you're not grown. Don't get cocky.
Watching Shanks still leaning over the rail to gawk, Aos motioned Buggy to step aside,
and as Buggy stared, bewildered, Aos raised his black rifle and took aim at the back of Shanks's head,
"Bang—"
Born a monster and grinding nonstop, Aos might not swear to it, but he was pretty sure his strength wasn't far off young Whitebeard's,
and with that butt-stroke, even the future Red-Haired Emperor would see stars.
"Nice—Young Aos vs. Young Red-Hair,"
"Young Aos wins."
Satisfied, Aos nodded, and under Buggy's stunned gaze, dragged Shanks by the collar toward the cabins.