Boom!
The sound of cannon fire erupted, and dark cannonballs exploded continuously around the warship, stirring up the surging waves.
Smoke billowed.
The Marines aboard the ship reacted immediately, their once-relaxed expressions turning sharp and serious.
Without waiting for orders, they swiftly manned the cannons, the lookout posts, and the helm, grabbing their weapons and preparing for battle.
Although they had been slacking off earlier thanks to a certain 'lazy bum,' they were now showing the calm and bravery expected of the Marine Headquarters' elite.
Rifles were raised in unison, and the heavy cannons quickly adjusted direction, scanning the smoke-covered waters for any sign of the enemy.
The next second—
Clang!
A metallic sound echoed from the side of the ship, as if something had struck it.
Everyone froze and turned to look, only to see a series of rusty metal hooks piercing through the thick smoke on both sides of the ship.
The hooks were attached to thick hemp ropes, firmly latching onto the deck railings.
What is this...
The Marines' pupils shrank, their expressions changing dramatically.
"Grapple hooks!"
"They're under the sea!"
"The enemy's boarding!"
"Prepare for close combat!"
As soon as the words fell, before they could react, a group of soaked, ferocious figures climbed up the ropes and leaped onto the deck.
These men wore vicious expressions, their bodies draped in tattered hemp cloaks, wielding all sorts of weapons.
Even more bizarre was that every single one of them looked rough and misshapen—some missing arms, others with only one eye, some faces covered in scars, some with barely any teeth left...
In short, they didn't look like good people.
They were the very image of ruffians and cutthroats.
If it weren't for the ferocity of their boarding attack and the sheer murderous aura they exuded, just based on their appearances, one would have thought they were a band of thugs.
"Hahahaha! Didn't expect it to be a Marine warship!"
"But it doesn't matter! Tough luck for you guys!"
"Hand over your weapons and supplies!"
"Oh, and we're taking the ship too! You can all just jump into the sea!"
The thick smoke swirled around them as arrogant, brutal laughter filled the deck.
They looked at the Marines like a pack of ravenous wolves eyeing fresh prey, their eyes gleaming green.
The leader, a bald man with a bushy beard, arrogantly stood with his hands on his hips and laughed loudly,
"Hahahaha, you guessed right... we're robbing you!"
Robbing...!?
The Marines on board were completely dumbfounded.
They stared blankly at the group of grotesque-looking invaders, their minds a complete mess.
Because they had all seen it clearly...
Beneath those pirate-like cloaks, they were unmistakably wearing tattered Marine uniforms!
This group... wasn't made up of pirates—they were Marines!
Marines from the New World...
Marines whose behavior was more like a gang of thugs...
Could it be...
A ridiculous yet undeniable thought surfaced in each of their minds.
"Hahahaha! What's wrong? Scared by our tactics?"
Seeing the Marines standing there dumbfounded, the bearded leader thought they were terrified and laughed even more smugly.
"Come on, put down your weapons! Otherwise, we won't be so polite!"
"Hahahaha... Haha... Ha?"
His laughter gradually died down, and his face stiffened.
Because he suddenly noticed that all the Marines were looking at him with a gaze reserved for the already-dead.
There was even a trace of pity in their eyes.
"This is really scary... I never thought I'd get robbed my first time in the New World..."
At that moment, a slow, lazy voice rang out.
The "pirates" froze for a moment, then turned their heads toward the source of the voice.
Through the billowing smoke, a tall, broad-shouldered figure slowly rose from a beach chair.
His hands were tucked casually into his pockets, his large cloak fluttering in the sea breeze.
He looked at this group of "invaders" with a strange expression.
"You guys... must be the Marines from G5, right?"
"...Borsalino!?"
The deck instantly fell silent, then gasps echoed all around.
The "pirates" stared in horror at the calm, smiling figure, subconsciously stepping back.
Even though these guys never followed orders from headquarters and looked down on the so-called "elite forces," the name of the "monster" Borsalino was one they had heard countless times!
At this moment, intense fear filled their hearts.
We... we just tried to rob the monster from headquarters!?
"So, Daren, how do you want to handle this?"
Borsalino sighed helplessly, turned, and asked,
"According to headquarters' appointment... they're your subordinates now."
Daren!?
At the sound of that thunderous name, the "pirates" trembled, the blood draining from their faces.
They stared in disbelief at another figure rising from a beach chair, hearts pounding wildly.
A straight-backed man, his sharp, handsome features cold as ice.
Short black hair fluttered slightly in the sea breeze.
His explosive muscles stretched his Marine uniform tight, his cold eyes gleaming with mocking amusement.
A lit cigar dangled from his mouth, a faint red glow flickering in the smoke.
Even just standing there, he radiated an indescribable, crushing pressure—like a demon god descending.
"So... should I praise your courage, or scold your stupidity?"
The Vice Admiral spoke flatly.
His figure finally emerged fully from the smoke.
The "pirates" were struck as if by lightning.
They... had just tried to rob their own boss!
...
Two days later.
New World.
G5 Branch.
The island's military base was lined with towering fortresses, their walls blackened and cracked, windows shattered, all showing signs of long neglect.
The cannons and warships at the harbor were in just as bad shape, some covered in cobwebs, rust eating through the metal.
This base, which should have stood like an impenetrable fortress, now looked utterly dilapidated under the fading light of sunset.
"Vice Admiral Daren, it's been two days... Should we maybe... let them down?"
Arthur carefully stepped into the temporary office and glanced at the Vice Admiral, who was lounging on the sofa with his eyes closed.
As he spoke, Arthur couldn't help but sneak a glance out the window.
At the port of the G5 base, a row of figures hung suspended in the air like salted fish, hands bound tightly.
After two days of wind and sun, they had shriveled up miserably, looking like they were about to collapse at any moment.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake