At this moment, Axe-Hand Morgan had yet to suffer his crushing defeat at the hands of Captain Kuro. His jaw was still flesh, his arm not yet replaced with an axe-shaped prosthetic, but his presence was far more imposing than in later years.
His mindset, will, and convictions were at their peak, fueled by an unshakable belief in his own strength.
Morgan gazed into the distance.
The island blazed with firelight. A Marine scout hurried to his side, saluted, and reported, "We found a pirate ship in a bay. The flag confirms it's the Gawain Pirates."
"Oddly, the ship is split cleanly in half, the cut unnaturally smooth—not natural, but man-made."
Morgan paused, raising his binoculars to view the bay.
As the scout described, a pirate ship lay stranded on the beach, severed perfectly in two.
He'd seen such a cut before.
Years ago, when Garp returned to the East Blue to purge the local pirates.
A silent man named Bogard always followed Garp.
Everyone thought he was just Garp's lackey.
Until Bogard sliced a pirate ship in half with a single stroke, his sword aura nearly cleaving the sea itself. The onlookers fell silent.
How could someone who stayed by Garp's side for decades be a nobody?
The cut Bogard left was nearly identical to this one.
With one glance, Morgan knew it was the work of a master swordsman.
"Knight Gawain did this?"
"No, a swordsman capable of such a clean cut would be a notable figure even on the Grand Line."
"I know Gawain's strength—he couldn't do this. Did they encounter another pirate crew?"
Morgan frowned, wary of this mysterious swordsman. Someone who could slice a ship in half shouldn't be unknown in the East Blue.
In his memory, only a few Marine officers from headquarters could manage such a feat.
"Still, it seems they fought the Gawain Pirates. Hah, unlucky bastards."
This thought boosted Morgan's confidence.
He already knew Gawain was no match for him.
Now, after clashing with this mysterious powerhouse, their losses must be severe—the wrecked ship was proof.
The warship unleashed another volley of cannon fire, crimson meteors setting the island ablaze. The flames roared, but no sound came from the forest.
With half the ship's ammunition spent, Morgan halted the barrage.
He decided to take Gawain's head himself.
Looking at his eager Marines, Morgan grinned ferociously. "Brothers, tonight we make our mark!"
"For justice!"
His resolute cry ignited the Marines' fervor, some trembling with excitement.
This wasn't their first clash with the Gawain Pirates. Each time, they'd sent them fleeing, with only minor injuries on their side.
Now, Gawain was on the island—a living merit, a walking 50 million Berries!
"Not just the Navy's bounty—the Goa Kingdom's royal family has offered 50 million in the underworld for his head!"
"Take him down, and it's ours. And we're upholding justice!"
"Absolute justice!"
Their belief in justice erased their last doubts. With swords, guns, and wax-sealed ammunition, they became cold-blooded executioners, envisioning fame and glory.
"Kill!"
Morgan roared, leaping from the warship and charging toward the cave, his Marines following with fanatical zeal.
They moved swiftly, Morgan leading the charge, covering nearly a kilometer in minutes.
Soon, Gawain appeared in his sight, sword in hand, leading dozens of pirates.
His expression was calm as he faced the frenzied Marines.
Their eyes, burning with the same greed and madness as the pirates his predecessor had killed, were no different.
The clash between Marines and pirates erupted instantly.
Gunfire rang out across the island. In moments, bodies littered the ground.
Even the pirates who'd cowered in fear now fought fiercely, adrenaline erasing their terror.
They gripped their weapons, locked in brutal combat.
Bloody and savage.
For the Marines, this was for fame, profit, and promotion. For the pirates, it was purely for survival.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Amid the gunfire, Gawain sliced through bullets flying toward him. He locked eyes with Morgan, who stood still in the distance, a faint smile on his lips. "You call yourself a Marine? You're more like one of us."
"Sharp-tongued brat!" Morgan sneered, uninterested in banter.
He stomped the ground, cracking it beneath his feet, and charged like an arrow, his axe sweeping with terrifying force—enough to crush stone.
He'd overpowered Gawain countless times before, and he saw no reason this fight would differ.
The seas were full of people who transformed in a month—Devil Fruits, technology, Haki awakenings could all boost strength rapidly.
But Gawain wasn't one of them!
The next moment…
Boom!
The ferocious strike shattered the ground, but Morgan's brow furrowed. "Missed?"
"No, you're too slow…" Gawain's mocking voice sounded in his ear, cold sweat soaking Morgan's back.
The image of the stranded, bisected ship flashed through his mind.
A chilling killing intent surged from behind, freezing the air. Unspoken fear gripped Morgan's heart.
A possibility he'd dismissed resurfaced, shaking him to his core. "You… cut that ship? Impossible!"
"The weak say 'impossible.' The strong find a way. That's the gap between us."
Gawain looked at Morgan with disinterest. The man who'd once overwhelmed his predecessor no longer sparked any fighting spirit.
He spoke calmly. "One sword to kill you and sever the past!"
"I—!"
Before Morgan could finish, a cool sensation passed over his neck. When he turned, Gawain was gone.
The world spun. A headless body appeared before him…
Is that… me?
Morgan's final thought faded into darkness.
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