One Piece Admiral Silver Fox - Chapter 11

In a daze, Foxy felt as if he was in a cradle, with whispers around him, much like when he was lulled to sleep as a child.

Suddenly, he felt a jolt as if he was thrown from the cradle, his heart racing, and he snapped his eyes open.

Breathing heavily, Foxy looked around the infirmary, where scattered items littered the floor, and the ship shook violently amidst the sounds of explosions.

“An attack.”

His face changed, and Foxy quickly got out of bed, only to feel a sharp pain in his chest that nearly made him fall.

Gritting his teeth, Foxy opened the door and saw Marines running back and forth in the corridor. Even the stout nurse was rushing out with a long sword, looking fierce.

She paused as she passed Foxy, patting his head.

“Don’t be afraid. This is Vice Admiral Tsuru’s warship. Those blind pirates will be dealt with soon.”

Without waiting for Foxy’s response, she turned a corner and disappeared.

Being on the famous Vice-Admiral Tsuru’s ship, even a nurse was formidable.

After hearing the nurse’s words, Foxy was even more certain it was an attack, likely a battle raging outside.

The most probable attackers were pirates.

But these pirates were too audacious, attacking Tsuru’s warship.

Should he go out or stay in?

After a minute of deliberation, Foxy decided to go out.

He was now a Marine, and if he cowered here until the battle ended, Tsuru might not say anything, but her impression of him would likely drop.

Before learning the Six Powers or Haki, a good impression was crucial.

If he were in a higher position, he’d prefer subordinates who weren’t cowards.

Going out was dangerous, but it could improve his standing, so Foxy decided to take the risk.

He had no backing in the Marines and had to hold onto Tsuru’s favour tightly.

In peacetime, connections were important, let alone in this world. With Tsuru’s care, even a few casual instructions would make his life in the Marines much smoother.

Foxy didn’t understand social intricacies well; he was just an ordinary guy. But the internet in his past life was a big melting pot of all kinds of information, so he had seen a lot.

Having experienced a massacre, Foxy had toured the edge of death, and his mindset had undoubtedly grown. Perhaps even he hadn’t noticed that he was gradually changing.

Determined, Foxy no longer hesitated but needed a weapon before going out preferably a gun.

Charging out boldly was impossible; he could die without knowing how. Sticking to the shadows and taking potshots seemed the safest option.

He remembered passing an armoury on the way to Tsuru’s office with Yaffel. It was where the Marines stored their weapons, next to the barracks.

After navigating two or three corridors, Foxy reached the armoury. Many weapons had already been taken, but some were left.

Swords, knives, and pistols were among the remaining weapons.

Foxy chose a short knife and a flintlock pistol.

He strapped the knife to his waist and examined the pistol.

Compared to his previous life, the flintlock was outdated.

Fortunately, the firing method was the same: load the bullet, cock the hammer, aim, and shoot.

With a bang, Foxy staggered, his chest throbbing with pain as a bullet hole appeared in the ship’s wall, smoke rising from the barrel.

Grimacing, Foxy grabbed a handful of bullets, stuffing them into his pocket, and left the armoury.

Outside, the previously calm sea was now churning. A massive pirate ship with a skull flag fired grenades, causing water to spray everywhere.

The warship retaliated, with many Marines loading cannons and firing back at the pirates.

The pirate ship and warship were close, with pirates and Marines fighting on both decks.

Both ships shook violently from the explosions, with seawater splashing onto the blood-red decks.

Bodies of pirates and Marines lay everywhere, blood staining the scene.

Limbs and gruesome wounds were scattered, making for a nauseating sight.

Bullets flew indiscriminately, riddling the ship’s walls with holes.

In mid-air, two figures clashed, their collisions creating shockwaves like tidal waves.

“Whizz.”

Foxy cautiously peeked out from the cabin, only to have a bullet shoot past his head, creating a hole in the wall.

His face went white, his heart skipping a beat.

He had just brushed past death.

He wasn’t a Logia user who could turn into an element. If a bullet hit a vital spot, he’d be dead in no time.

Steeling himself, Foxy focused intently.

Ahead, a Marine wielding a sword fought a pirate, clearly outmatched.

In moments, the Marine’s arm was severed, and he lay on the ground, screaming.

Swallowing hard, Foxy didn’t feel sick; instead, he raised the flintlock and aimed at the pirate.

“Whizz.”

As the pirate prepared to deliver a fatal blow to the Marine, Foxy fired.

The bullet hit its mark, with blood and a scream following, the pirate falling, clutching his groin instead of his chest.

Foxy was momentarily stunned. He had aimed at the chest; why did it hit there?

Was it his eyesight or the flintlock’s fault?

Touching his left eye, Foxy felt a surge of anger.

Bending low, he quickly ran to the pirate, holding the knife in his left hand, and slashed the pirate’s throat.

He would never forget who had blinded him. On a larger scale, it was the pirates, and specifically, Scar.

Seeing the attack, the pirate tried to fight back despite the pain.

But the armless Marine suddenly struck, driving his sword deep into the pirate’s chest as Foxy slit his throat.

Hot blood splattered Foxy’s face as the pirate fell, twitching a few times before dying.

“Are you okay?”

Up close, Foxy saw that the Marine not only had a severed arm but also a chest wound, exposing bone.

“You’re the boy we saved.”

Some Marines recognized Foxy.

“Hang in there.”

Feeling a strange emotion, Foxy sheathed his knife and helped the Marine back to the cabin.

“Don’t worry about me. I must continue fighting. For justice, we must eliminate these pirates, or countless innocent civilians will die.”

Supported by Foxy, the Marine tried to return to the fight, but his severe injuries were taking their toll.

“You’re seriously injured. If you don’t get treated, you’ll die.”

Dodging bullets, Foxy brought the Marine to the cabin, leaning him against the wall before running to the infirmary and grabbing a pile of bandages and medical supplies.

“Press on this to stop the bleeding.”

Looking at the pale, sweating Marine, Foxy quickly bandaged him.

“Okay.” The Marine coughed, nodding.

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