After word spread across the world that Baichuan and his crew had slaughtered an entire Marine branch, every pirate crew that spotted them in the Grand Line steered clear. In their minds, the Silver Pirates were cold-blooded killers who wouldn't blink at slitting a throat.
"How's it feel, getting your first bounty?"
Baichuan asked Salar, who was staring at his own wanted poster. For the better part of his life, Salar had probably never imagined the day would come when he'd become a pirate.
"It's alright. Feels pretty good, actually." Salar had been prepared for this since the day he joined the Silver Pirates. He just hadn't expected things to get this intense right off the bat.
Yuristin had his own mixed feelings. As a former bounty hunter, his whole job used to be hunting down pirates. Now here he was, turned pirate himself, become the very thing he'd once hunted. Looking at his own wanted poster, even though his bounty was lower than Salar's, Yuristin didn't believe for a second that he was weaker. If anything, he might have been a cut above. The Marines, however, had somehow gotten wind of Salar's background, dug up the fact that he was the son of Count Ril, and spun the whole story to paint him as a man who murdered his own father. That was why Salar, who hadn't really shown any overwhelming strength, ended up with a higher bounty than Yuristin.
Their current location was roughly a month's sailing from Reverse Mountain, the gateway to the Four Seas. As long as the Marines didn't catch wind of them during that month, nothing would go wrong. The Marines had no idea of their exact route or their destination, so tracking them down would be extremely difficult, provided no one snitched. Plus, they had no intention of stopping at any inhabited island during that month. If they did set foot on land, it would be on some deserted island, just long enough for a quick rest and resupply.
As things stood, the crew now had five members. Just enough to form a mahjong table, with one left over to serve tea. But to Baichuan's disappointment, aside from Riddle, nobody was interested in his mahjong. They were all training like their lives depended on it. Riddle was probably just humoring him to be polite.
Ever since his fight with that Marine rear admiral, Jora had fully grasped where he fell short and knew exactly what his weak points were. Yuristin had been drilling his gun fu relentlessly. His marksmanship was top-notch, but his close-quarters combat left a lot to be desired. He didn't want to be the kind of sniper who gets taken out the second an enemy closes the distance. Salar spent most of his time honing his Devil Fruit ability, and when he wasn't doing that, he cooked, using exotic Sea Kings to experiment with new dishes. Riddle, needless to say, was the all-purpose support guy, simply because he was the weakest on the ship. Even though Yuristin and Jora taught him the two types of Haki whenever they had free time, the truth was undeniable: Riddle's talent was just plain hopeless. No improvement whatsoever. Hard to say whether Jora and the others were bad teachers, or if Riddle was truly a lost cause.
Just like that, more than twenty days passed. Those twenty-plus days were smooth sailing, no obstacles in sight. Even merchant ships that couldn't manage to avoid them would proactively come forward with tribute. Baichuan and his crew hadn't intended to demand anything, but as the saying goes, don't refuse what's freely given. Why turn it down? Only the gifts themselves turned out to be pretty ordinary: gold and silver jewelry, clocks, diamonds, that sort of thing. On the ship, no one except Yuristin cared for that stuff. Some merchant vessels hauling weapons handed over swords and guns, but neither the blades nor the firearms were quality goods. The crew had no use for them, so they just stashed everything in storage for any ordinary crew members who might join later.
From here on out, Baichuan planned to take an elite route, but a ship couldn't sail without regular crew. He intended to recruit a few dozen members. Beyond a handful of elite officers, each of them would need a squad of their own. Baichuan also had thoughts of someday recruiting a few powerful or high-potential pirate crews to become subordinate crews. They'd offer these crews protection, and in return, those pirates would back them without hesitation whenever the need arose. But all of that would have to wait. Right now, including the captain, there were only five people aboard. They seriously lacked presence compared to the big-name pirate crews.
Baichuan had actually hoped to pick up a few new members along the way to boost their image. It wasn't that he didn't want to recruit; those pirates just bolted the moment they laid eyes on their flag. Especially when Baichuan waved at them, they acted like they'd seen Death itself and ran even faster.
"This is all your fault."
Every single time, Baichuan would shoot them a resentful look and say exactly that, because on that day, he hadn't lifted a finger.
"Captain, you can't put it that way. Sure, you didn't throw a punch, but you didn't stop us either. Doesn't that make you, y'know, indirectly responsible for offing them?"
At first, they'd all been left speechless, Salar especially. But as time went on, they'd come up with a counterargument. And it was one Baichuan couldn't refute. If he had stopped them, this never would've happened. So why hadn't he? Even Baichuan didn't know. Maybe, from the moment he set foot on the Roger Pirates' ship, he'd stopped seeing himself as a champion of justice. He became a pirate. He didn't want to be some kind of saint. He might not raise a hand against ordinary civilians, but against their enemies, the Marines, Baichuan saw no reason to show mercy. There's a saying: mercy to an enemy is cruelty to yourself. The fate of former Marine Admiral Zephyr had circulated throughout the Navy as a grim warning to never, ever go easy on pirates. And the instant Baichuan laid eyes on that Marine rear admiral, he'd pegged him as a ruthless bastard who'd follow Marine doctrine to the letter. If they'd been the ones defeated that day, the Marines definitely wouldn't have spared them. Of course, all of that was just Baichuan's own speculation. To put it bluntly, he'd simply wanted to act like a real pirate for once. No deep reason. It was purely a spur-of-the-moment whim.
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