Sarquiss swung his big knife sideways, flicking the blood off the blade, and muttered, "Because of foolish bastards like this, my party gets interrupted and my mood gets ruined." He clicked his tongue in irritation. "Where do these idiots even come from?"
After saying this, he sheathed his big knife and turned around, clearly intending to leave.
But just as he did, a calm voice cut through the noise of the pub.
"Stop."
Sarquiss paused mid-step. Slowly, he turned toward the source of the voice. The one who had spoken was none other than Gojo.
Sarquiss's eyes ran over the young man standing in front of him. Black sunglasses. Simple black clothes—black jacket, black pants, black shoes. Everything about him was understated, yet strangely eye-catching. And annoyingly enough, the boy was handsome. Far more handsome than Sarquiss liked.
A flicker of jealousy passed through him, souring his already bad mood. He scowled and said, "What is it, boy? You trying to stand up for this guy?" He sneered. "Want to play hero or something?"
Gojo shook his head lightly. "No. Why would I do that?" His voice was steady, almost indifferent. "I didn't stop you because I wanted to stand up for him. Or because I wanted revenge for him. I don't even know that person."
He continued calmly, "Why you killed him doesn't matter to me."
There was a brief pause before Gojo added, "I stopped you because I'd like to meet your captain." His lips curved faintly. "I have something I'd like to borrow from him."
As soon as Sarquiss heard this, a chuckle escaped his lips. A crooked smile spread across his face as he said, "You want to borrow something from my captain?" He shook his head in amusement. "You've got some guts, boy."
He leaned forward slightly, confidence oozing from his posture. "If I'm not wrong, you're just playing some trick. Giving a random excuse to meet our captain because you want to join the Bellamy Pirates, right?"
The moment Gojo heard this, a clear look of disgust appeared on his face. He frowned openly, not even bothering to hide it. "I mean, why would you even think that I'd want to associate myself with a garbage group like yours?" he said flatly, his tone dripping with contempt.
He continued, his voice calm but sharp, "I don't want any association with your garbage pirate crew, okay? I just need something from your captain." He paused briefly, then added, "What I want is the Eternal Pose to Water 7. That's where I'm headed next, and I'd like to leave the island of Jaya as soon as possible."
Gojo's gaze hardened behind his sunglasses. "If you take me to your captain honestly, you'll be fine." There was a slight pause. "Or else…"
As soon as Sarquiss heard Gojo call their pirate crew garbage, the mocking smile on his face vanished. The confidence he had—his certainty that Gojo was just making excuses to meet their captain and join their crew—was wiped away completely. In its place rose pure, unrestrained anger.
His expression darkened as he snapped, almost shouting, "You dare call our pirate crew a pile of garbage?" His grip tightened instinctively. "And what was that—'take you to our captain or else'?"
He sneered, eyes burning. "I want to see what a pretty boy like you can actually do."
As soon as Gojo heard this, he remained completely nonchalant. He didn't care about Sarquiss's anger in the slightest. That indifferent expression on Gojo's face only made Sarquiss even angrier, and without wasting another moment, Sarquiss lunged forward and attacked with his big knife.
Gojo didn't defend at all. He remained standing there, perfectly still, both hands tucked casually into his pant pockets.
Seeing this—seeing that even at the very last moment Gojo hadn't made a single move, hadn't even unsheathed the sword resting on his back—a cruel grin spread across Sarquiss's face. A satisfied gleam flashed in his eyes. In his mind, there were only two possibilities: either this boy was so scared that he had completely frozen, or he was so weak that he couldn't even track Sarquiss's speed. Either way, it only made Gojo seem more pathetic.
Around them, the other pirates and pirate hunters in the pub shook their heads. Almost all of them came to the same conclusion at the same time—that such a young man was about to die.
None of the people present felt any sympathy for him out of compassion or pity. Their thoughts went in a far more practical—and far uglier—direction. If only they could have captured him and taken him to a slave market or somewhere similar, he would have fetched a very high price.
In fact, even earlier, when Gojo had been sitting and talking with the bartender, a few of the pirates in the pub had already been making such plans. Some were waiting for him to leave, while others were considering making a move right there inside the pub—capturing him and selling him off at a slave market for a hefty sum.
But now, that young man—who could have been an expensive commodity worth a lot of money—was about to be killed by Sarquiss. And with that, they would lose a large profit.
That was the true reason for their regret.
Even the bartender thought that Gojo was some kind of hothead. He felt a wave of relief that he hadn't associated too closely with him or revealed too much. Otherwise, if the Bellamy Pirates decided to target his pub—or him—it would have been the end. No doubts about it.
But what happened next didn't just horrify Sarquiss—it shocked everyone present in the pub.
Sarquiss's big knife came to a sudden halt, stopping just inches away from Gojo's body. Gojo stood there calmly, wearing the same nonchalant expression as before, as if a massive blade hanging in front of him meant absolutely nothing.
He didn't give Sarquiss even a fraction of a second to react. Before Sarquiss could pull back, attack again, or retreat, Gojo pivoted sharply on his left leg and drove a powerful kick straight into Sarquiss's stomach.
The impact sent Sarquiss flying backward like a rag doll. His body smashed through the bat-wing wooden gate of the pub, splintering it apart as he was hurled outside.
For a few moments, Sarquiss's two followers simply stood there, stunned. It took them a second to process what had just happened—that their leader, Sarquiss, had been casually sent flying out of the pub by a single kick from the young man standing before them.
"Damn you, bastard!" they shouted almost simultaneously.
They moved at once. One of them pulled out a gun, raising it toward Gojo, while the other drew two large daggers, gripping them tightly as he prepared to rush forward.
But by then, Gojo already had his hand on the hilt of the sword on his back. In the blink of an eye, he vanished from his spot and appeared outside the pub.
To the people inside, what happened next was barely visible. One moment, Gojo was standing there in front of them. The next moment, he wasn't.
Both of Sarquiss's followers froze in place. A heartbeat later, blood burst from their chests—one bearing a clean vertical cut, the other a sharp horizontal slash across his torso.
They collapsed to the floor, their bodies hitting the ground heavily, their fate—life or death—uncertain.
And Gojo was already outside the pub.
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