One Piece Swordsman's Heart - Chapter 25

Vir felt that this situation was the most perilous he had encountered since arriving in the world of One Piece. If things went poorly today, he might really be left behind.

The young nobleman was not an impulsive fool. During Vir’s life-or-death battle with Gat, he hadn’t intervened but had instead gathered forces to surround the dock.

For a speed-based fighter, the greatest threats were large-scale attacks and overwhelming numbers. Now, the dock was packed with people, leaving hardly any space between them.

Vir was made of flesh and blood; no matter how strong he was, he would still bleed if cut, and serious injuries would lead to death. He needed to buy some time to recover, at least to a fighting state, if not fully.

Thanks to years of practicing the “Thunder Stab Method” for cell activation, Vir’s recovery ability wasn’t as abnormal as Gat’s awakened Zoan-type power. However, it still allowed him to regain stamina quickly.

Looking at the young nobleman in front of him, Vir spoke in a low voice:

“I don’t know who you are, but it seems you are determined to kill me today. Is it because I killed Gat on your dock, and it made you lose face? Many pirates die every day. If you send so many people to attack just because someone causes trouble on your dock, how have you managed to stay alive without being killed by someone else?”

Vir voiced his confusion. If the nobleman had a close relationship with Gat and was avenging him, that would make sense, but his previous words suggested he didn’t care much for Gat.

As for the idea that causing trouble on the dock meant death? That was laughable. This was the world of pirates. There was trouble even on the Sabaody Archipelago, let alone on an island known for producing gunpowder.

“It seems you’re not completely stupid. Yes, many pirates cause trouble on the dock every day, but not every dead pirate is Gat. I’m just giving someone an explanation. He is my partner, after all. If not for his face, a greedy, arrogant fool like Gat wouldn’t have survived until today,” the young nobleman replied, still maintaining the typical false smile of a noble, answering Vir’s question with a nonchalant attitude as if he had already won.

“Oh? So Gat had a powerful backer that even a noble like you feared? That’s not good news,” Vir continued to chat casually, trying to buy time to recover. He never feared strong enemies. Even if Gat’s backer was one of the Four Emperors, he would still have killed Gat.

“Stop stalling. No matter what, today you must die. So, goodbye,” the young nobleman said, signaling his men to move closer to Vir.

“Hehehe, hehehe. Looks like I’ve met a smart one, but it’s about time,” Vir said, no longer wasting words. He activated “Thunder Mode” and charged at the encircling enemies.

Now able to fight, Vir didn’t slaughter his enemies madly as before. He aimed for one direction: his ship. Once on board, it would be difficult for his enemies to catch him at sea.

A brutal battle ensued at the dock. Various forces rushed at Vir fearlessly. With so many enemies, Vir inevitably got injured.

Severed limbs and bodies flew around Vir, and the blood under his feet made it hard to stand. He had multiple wounds, the worst being a gunshot wound that went through his abdomen.

The one who inflicted this severe injury was someone Vir recognized—the young gunman from his first mission, who carried a large box made of Adam Wood and had lost an arm to Vir. Now, on the Grand Line, they crossed paths again. It seemed the gunman had joined some faction on Tut Island, but Vir no longer had to worry about revenge; the gunman was already dead by his sword, and Vir paid with a wound to his abdomen.

The more he killed, the more enemies appeared, and Vir’s forward progress slowed.

Amidst the slaughter, Vir noticed the enemies stopped advancing and instead formed a circle, staring at him in horror.

Vir stood on a small hill of corpses, exhausted, and couldn’t care about appearances. He sat down on the pile of bodies, pulled out a bottle of liquor from his waist pouch, took a large swig to ease his fatigue, and poured some on his wounds for disinfection.

The surrounding enemies were terrified. They had never seen such a brutal opponent. Killing was one thing, but chopping people into pieces was rare. Sitting on a pile of corpses, drinking with a look of satisfaction and excitement—this wasn’t just cruelty, but madness.

Terrified, they ignored their leaders’ urgings. Life could only be lived once, and no amount of money could buy it back. Who would willingly throw their life away?

In the distance, the young nobleman stood on a rooftop, looking displeased. He had planned to give the crazed person a proper explanation for the death of Gat’s brother. But this person before him seemed even more insane.

The young nobleman felt troubled. The trump card he had planned to use for a fatal strike against Vir might not be necessary. If Vir survived and escaped, he would live in constant fear.

He called over his bodyguard, gave some instructions, and walked towards the town, leaving the dock that resembled hell.

After drinking for a while, Vir realized he had frightened his enemies into submission and laughed. Initially, he planned to activate “Thunder Mode” at full power and charge toward his ship, but surviving after that would be slim. So he killed, killed brutally, to the point where the enemies dared not oppose him. It seemed he had succeeded.

Standing up, Vir walked slowly toward his ship. The crowd that had tightly surrounded him parted to make way. Wherever he went, people scrambled to get out of his path. Not a single enemy followed.

Once he was out of sight, Vir entered an alley and ran as fast as he could. Despite his earlier display of strength, he was nearing his limit. The act of drinking was a bluff; he was dizzy from blood loss, and his wounds were numb and swollen.

As Vir neared his ship, he noticed a person by the shore—a stunning woman.

With green wavy hair, a red top, black pants, and high heels, her appearance was striking, yet she exuded an icy aura.

Vir’s first thought was that she was a fellow assassin. In his current state, fighting her would likely mean death.

“Don’t be alarmed. I’m not here to fight. Someone asked me to give you something,” she said, placing a box on the ground before turning to leave.

Hearing her voice, Vir frowned. The beautiful woman had a rough, hoarse voice as if her vocal cords had been damaged. It reminded Vir of someone who had been slashed in the throat.

He picked up the box, opened it, and found a Den Den Mushi inside. After some thought, he took it and returned to his ship.

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