At the eastern docks of Ashen Port, a pirate ship lay anchored in open defiance.
The flag of the Blood Spear Pirates snapped violently in the wind.
A blood-red banner—
a long spear dripping crimson, piercing straight through a human skull.
The background looked as though it had been dyed in real blood.
On the open ground of the docks, pirates sat in a loose circle around a bonfire.
Unknown cuts of meat roasted over iron grates, fat dripping into the flames with a sizzle.
The air was thick with an unsettling blend of scorched flesh and blood.
"Captain, this haul was damn good!"
A pirate grinned, bits of meat clinging to his teeth.
"Those Marines should be here any minute—let's make this one big!"
"Hmph. West Blue Marines…"
A tall, gaunt figure like an iron tower sat atop a reef stone. Old scars crisscrossed his pale skin, twisting grotesquely under the firelight.
He slowly raised a hand, stroking the detachable, modular spear resting beside him—
Blood Beak.
Barbed hooks gleamed coldly at its tip.
"They're nothing but trash."
"Blood Spear" Loggert wore a cloak stitched together from looted Marine officer uniforms.
The deliberately preserved rank insignia glinted under the flames.
A cruel smile curled across his lips.
"When they arrive, I'll hang the leader's head on Blood Beak—
let the West Blue Marines know their nightmare has returned. Hahahaha—"
The laughter stopped abruptly.
The sea wind fell unnaturally silent.
The pirates around the fire sensed something wrong and looked up in unison.
At the entrance to the docks—
A figure was walking toward them.
A young man in a Marine uniform, a long blade wrapped in white bandages slung diagonally across his back.
...
When Loggert saw the approaching Marine, his mouth twisted into a feral grin.
"Heh… finally showed up, huh?"
But the moment his eyes locked onto the insignia on Gern's shoulder—
The smile froze.
"E-Ensign?! A branch officer?!"
Loggert's face darkened instantly, veins bulging on his forehead.
"You've gotta be kidding me!"
He slammed his foot down, the rock beneath cracking with a sharp crack.
"I'm Blood Spear Loggert!
A pirate who slaughtered his way back from the Grand Line!
Sixty-nine million Beli bounty—and the Marines send an ensign?!"
He laughed in sheer rage, spear thrust toward Gern, voice dripping with humiliation.
"Are you bastards out of men? Or—"
His single eye narrowed, killing intent boiling over.
"—do you think I'm worth less than a damn ensign?!"
The pirates roared with laughter at their captain's fury.
"Hahaha! Captain, they're clearly looking down on you!"
"An ensign? Not even enough to get stuck between my teeth!"
"Hey Marine brat, you lost? This isn't recruit training!"
Gern didn't respond.
He kept walking.
As he drew closer, a lanky pirate suddenly widened his eyes, staring hard at Gern's back.
He grabbed his companion's arm, voice shaking.
"Wait… that guy… the sword—white bandages!"
Loggert shot him an irritated look.
"What, scared already?"
The pirate swallowed hard.
"C-Captain! That's Pirate Hunter Gern!"
"What?" Loggert frowned. "Pirate Hunter? What the hell is that?"
The man hurried closer, whispering urgently.
"Captain, his rank's low, but in just one year—sixteen pirate crews in the West Blue were wiped out by him alone! He's a Marine monster!"
"Last month—the Golden Blade Pirates!
Twenty-three million bounty—'Gold Tooth' Hawk—he killed him!"
"And I heard—he was secretly trained at Marine Headquarters!
They suppressed his rank because his methods were 'too extreme'!"
After hearing it all, Loggert narrowed his eye and reappraised Gern.
"Oh?"
This time his smile wasn't mocking—it was hungry.
"Pirate Hunter Gern…"
His gaze flicked to the ensign insignia again, lips curling in disdain.
In the first half of the Grand Line, fighters with reputations like this were everywhere.
He wasn't afraid.
Loggert stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow.
"Kid, so you've got some fame. But are the Marines really so desperate they send a runt like you to die?"
Gern said nothing.
His gaze swept over the pirates by the fire, across the still-wet blood staining the docks, and finally settled on Loggert.
"You're Blood Spear Loggert?"
The voice was calm—razor sharp.
Loggert snorted, lifting Blood Beak to point at him.
"Oh? Heard of me?"
"Then I guess it's not that the Marines look down on me…"
He slowly raised the spear, voice sinking low.
"It's that they think you alone are enough to kill me."
The pirates burst into laughter again, some even whistling.
...
Faced with their mockery, Gern remained expressionless.
He slowly raised his hand, fingers spreading, palm facing upward.
"You slaughtered Ashen Port," he said softly, as if stating a trivial fact.
Loggert froze for half a second—then exploded with laughter, Blood Beak carving a crimson arc through the air.
"Hahahaha! Slaughter? Those worms deserved it?"
His grin split wide, single eye blazing with warped delight.
"I was teaching them something—"
The spear slammed down, its tip aimed straight at Gern.
"On the sea, the lives of the weak—
aren't worth a damn!"
Cold intent condensed instantly in Gern's eyes.
"Then your life…"
The air in his palm twisted violently.
"BZZZ—!!"
A sphere of pure-white vibration erupted into being—
jumping, collapsing, compressing.
The light flared like a star crushed to its limit.
Loggert's laughter died mid-breath.
"…how much do you think it's worth?"
Gern's arm tensed.
The next instant, he punched sideways into empty air.
BOOM—!!!!
Crack.
Space shattered.
From his fist outward, the air fractured like glass, spiderweb cracks racing across reality as a fan-shaped shockwave detonated—
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The Blood Spear pirate ship anchored beside the dock disintegrated in less than a thousandth of a second.
Planks. Masts. Iron nails. Sails.
All pulverized into dust.
Even the seawater beneath the hull was blasted open into a massive vacuum crater.
Crash!
Water rushed back in, a towering wave surging as shattered wreckage was swallowed by a violent vortex—vanishing in an instant.
Silence.
Absolute, suffocating silence.
Loggert's pupil shrank to a needlepoint.
His ship.
His treasure.
Erased in a single blow.
Gern slowly raised his head, black hair whipping in the shockwave, revealing eyes colder than death.
"And one more thing," he said quietly—
each word smashing into Loggert's heart like a warhammer.
"You were wrong."
For the first time, Gern reached back and gripped the hilt of Black Blade · Eight Desolations.
In that instant—
The blade screamed.
High-frequency vibrations tore through the air in a shrill howl.
The bandages spiraled apart from hilt to tip, disintegrating into ash-white fragments that hovered midair, crackling with electric arcs of vibration.
Fully unleashed—
The blade lay bare.
Dark red fissures blazed with violent light.
The sword felt like a feral beast finally awakened.
Gern's voice was calm.
"It's not that you're enough for me to kill alone."
"It's that you—"
"—aren't worth killing by yourself."
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