Want to read ahead? Join my Patreon for just $7 to get early access to all upcoming chapters!
Currently, there are 500 chapters of this book on my PATREON.
> Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations
─────
Chapter 425: Pirate Version of PUBG
Inside the tavern, Kaido—who had just grouped up with Doflamingo—turned completely black in the face.
That sign... he had wiped it spotlessly clean with a rag just this morning.
Those fruit peels from the stand... he had swept them into the trash can with a broom just five minutes ago.
Kaido took a deep, shuddering breath. He didn't transform into a dragon, nor did he activate his Demon Dragon Body. He simply turned around, grabbed a long-handled mop dripping with soapy water from the corner, and walked toward the door.
"You guys keep chatting," Kaido grumbled, his expression dark. "I'm going to take out some trash."
Outside, Doug was just about to kick the tavern doors open when they suddenly swung out on their own. A burly man wearing a ridiculously tight, ill-fitting security uniform and sporting two massive horns on his head stepped out, holding a dripping wet mop.
Doug paused for a second, then arrogantly pointed his blade at Kaido. "You the mayor of this trash village? You look pretty unique. Hurry up and hand over the stuff I asked for, or else my blade will—"
Doug never finished his sentence. His vision went pitch black. A massive, heavily calloused hand clamped directly over his entire face.
It was too fast. Doug didn't even have the chance to turn and run.
"You—"
Kaido didn't say a word. Holding Doug by the face as easily as grabbing a baby chick, he planted his right foot back and twisted his waist. Just like throwing a baseball, Kaido swung his arm and violently launched the 280-million-Beri great pirate straight out toward the open ocean.
Boom!!! A sonic boom shattered the air. Doug was turned into a human cannonball, leaving a trail of white vapor in his wake. He sailed right over the Foosha Village port, over the Marine warships and pirate vessels docked at the shore, and finally splashed into the bottomless sea thousands of meters away without even making a proper splash.
The dozens of pirate lackeys who had followed Doug into town were petrified on the spot. Their jaws hung open, completely oblivious to their swords clattering to the ground.
Kaido swept a cold glare over them. He raised his dripping mop, pointing at the scattered apples from the fruit stand.
"Three seconds."
"Sweep this floor clean."
"Glue that sign back together."
"Otherwise, you can all go to the bottom of the sea and keep him company."
Thud! Dozens of pirate lackeys dropped to their knees in perfect unison, scrambling frantically to pick up the fruit peels and broken wood chips. A few of them, unable to find glue, desperately started using their own spit to stick the 'No Weapons' sign back together.
Kaido snorted coldly, carrying the mop back into the tavern.
"Trash has been taken care of." Kaido put the mop back in its place and bowed respectfully to Blake. "Boss, stamp me for a ticket to that battle royale."
Blake smiled, tossing a bronze badge over to Kaido. "Here's your ticket."
The atmosphere inside the tavern instantly heated up again. Shanks threw his arms around Benn Beckman's shoulders. "Beckman, this time we must absolutely win, to save our face from the previous dungeon."
Garp picked his nose and mocked them from the side. "Red-haired brat, don't come crying to this old man when you land dead right off the spawn."
Akainu quietly wiped down a short blade in his hands, already calculating exactly who he was going to eliminate first once they dropped in.
Whitebeard chuckled, sipping his wine as he watched these top-tier figures—men who dictated the tides of the world—acting like a bunch of rowdy children fighting over candy.
Standing behind the bar, Blake watched the admission tickets sell out in record time. This was pure, glittering Beri.
"Battle Royale..." Blake stroked his chin. If all these lawless tyrants had their powers completely sealed and were dumped onto an island to beat each other bloody over a frying pan or a Kar98k... the spectacle would undoubtedly be more entertaining than an all-out war between Emperors.
"The show is about to begin." Blake closed his ledger and downed the rest of his coffee.
Clutching the bronze badge engraved with a parachute icon, Kaido marched back to Doflamingo's table.
Doflamingo poured a glass of red wine and pushed it over. "Boss Kaido, this is a solid deal. Without Devil Fruits or Haki, everyone is on the exact same starting line," Doflamingo grinned.
Kaido shoved the badge into his pocket and downed the wine in one gulp. "Don't celebrate just yet." He grabbed a roasted meat leg and began tearing into it. "When has any scenario this boss created ever followed common sense?"
Doflamingo pushed up his sunglasses. It was true. Thinking back to the previous otherworldly dungeons, every single one of them had completely shattered their understanding of reality.
Blake stood behind the bar, wiping the surface with a rag. Watching these normally high-and-mighty figures whispering among themselves, he found the entire situation incredibly amusing.
"A few words of warning," Blake said, draping the rag over his shoulder and rapping on the counter.
The tavern immediately fell silent as everyone turned to look at him.
"The rules of the battle royale are simple: just survive. However, your physical attributes will be uniformly suppressed to the absolute peak of normal human limits."
The crowd instantly erupted.
"Normal humans?" Sengoku frowned.
Kaido slammed his half-eaten meat leg onto the table. "You mean my demon muscles and dragon scales are useless!?"
Blake spread his hands. "I meant exactly what I said. Once you enter that island, you are normal people. No Devil Fruits, no Haki, and even your natural defenses—which are hundreds of times tougher than an ordinary person's—will be completely stripped away. If you get slashed by a knife, you will bleed. If a bullet hits you in the head, you will die instantly."
The only sound left in the tavern was the heavy breathing of the crowd.
Akainu's face darkened as he looked at his own hands. He was so accustomed to melting everything in his path with magma; if he reverted to a normal human forced into close-quarters combat, he really had no idea how he'd fare.
Kizaru tugged at the collar of his yellow suit. "How terrifying... what a lethal setup. My old bones won't be able to outrun you young folks."
Garp, however, slapped his thigh in delight. "BWAHAHAHA! Now this is a real battle! Even without my Sage Body, this old man's fists are still harder than yours!"
Shanks looked at his hands, making a fist, and fell into deep thought.
Benn Beckman took a drag from his cigarette. "Don't worry. Didn't the boss say there are weapons to scavenge on the island? Just grab a submachine gun; you can spray just fine."
Whitebeard lifted his wine bowl, taking massive gulps. "All beings are equal." He wiped his mouth. "I'd like to see who manages to stay standing on this island until the end!"
A fluttering sound came from outside. A News Coo wearing a suit squeezed through the crack in the window, landing on the edge of the bar. It was Morgans. He adjusted the small top hat on his head, trembling with excitement.
"Lord Blake! Can I have the exclusive rights to report this massive news!?" Morgans's eyes practically morphed into the shape of Beri symbols.
"Big News Morgans." Blake poured a cup of coffee and slid it over. "Perfect timing."
He casually grabbed a sheet of parchment and wrote down the rules, time, and ticket prices for the battle royale. "Print this on tomorrow's front page and distribute it to the entire world."
Morgans accepted the parchment with both hands, treating it as carefully as an imperial decree. "No problem! This is absolutely the most explosive news since Roger's execution!" He spread his wings and flew back out the window.
The tavern doors were pushed open again. A man carrying a massive black blade on his back and wearing a wide-brimmed hat walked in. Dracule Mihawk. The World's Strongest Swordsman. He was usually a lone wolf and rarely showed his face in crowded places like this.
Mihawk walked up to the bar, untied a heavy cloth sack, and dropped it onto the counter. It was filled with gold bars and Beri—exactly ten million.
"Give me a ticket," Mihawk's voice was perfectly steady.
Blake tossed him a bronze badge.
"I hear it seals all abilities and physical attributes." Mihawk grasped the badge in his palm. "I can't even bring my Black Blade in, correct?"
Blake nodded. "There are pans, crowbars, and even machetes on the island. You can find one yourself."
The corner of Mihawk's mouth curled into an extremely rare smirk. "A pan can kill a man just fine." He turned and walked over to an empty corner to sit down.
With Mihawk's addition, the remaining spots were dwindling fast. Although a ten million Beri ticket was expensive, it was pocket change to these great pirates with bounties in the hundreds of millions.
Garp stood up, shaking his bandaged right arm until it cracked. "Sengoku, go pay for our remaining spots."
Sengoku's eyelid twitched. "You old bastard, I just paid out three hundred million! Where would I get the money!?"
Garp picked his nose. "Deduct it from my salary. I never expected to collect the full amount anyway."
Sengoku was so angry his beard trembled, but he still pulled out his checkbook and signed his name. Akainu, Kizaru, and Aokiji each received a badge. The Marines' strongest four-man squad was officially established.
However, as Sengoku watched the four unhinged monsters he called subordinates gear up, a terrifying realization dawned on him. Leaving Garp, Akainu, Kizaru, and Aokiji completely unsupervised on an island where they had to scavenge for survival was a colossal PR disaster waiting to happen.
Gritting his teeth, Sengoku stormed outside the tavern. Less than a minute later, he marched back in, dragging three completely random, terrified Marine guards who had just been patrolling Foosha Village.
"You three are with me!" Sengoku barked, slapping down another forty million Beri for four more tickets. "I have to babysit these lunatics."
Thus, Sengoku's 'Babysitter Squad' was formed, looking exactly like three trembling lambs being led to the slaughter by a very stressed golden Buddha.
Shanks gladly paid out forty million as well. Beckman, Yasopp, and Lucky Roux grabbed their badges and huddled together to discuss strategy.
"First priority when we drop in: find guns," Yasopp said, polishing his flintlock. As the sniper of the Red-Haired Pirates, his reliance on firearms far exceeded the others.
"What if we land and only find a brick?" Lucky Roux asked, biting into a chunk of meat.
Yasopp was rendered speechless.
Doflamingo wove through the crowd, looking for two more teammates. Relying solely on Kaido wasn't safe enough. He set his sights on Mihawk, who was sitting alone in the corner.
"Fufufufu... Hawk Eyes, care to join us?" Doflamingo pulled up a chair and sat down.
Mihawk didn't even look up. "I have no interest in teaming up with the tasteless."
The smile on Doflamingo's face froze, a vein popping on his forehead. But he held back. Starting a fight in here meant that silver-haired manager would throw him straight into the sea.
A few hours later.
Morgans's News Coos, carrying the latest edition of the newspaper, scattered across the entire world like snowflakes.
─────
Support this fanfict by leaving Positive Review, Comments, and Power Stones.
For Advance Chapters:
> Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations