"Just a bounty hunter." Jethro said, voice low and unshaken.
His golden-blond eyes sharpened.
Light trailing from them like burning streaks in the air, faint at first, then flaring as his focus locked onto Ganzack.
He pulled the trigger.
BANG!
"Hmph!" Ganzack grunted, raising one massive crab claw.
KANG!
The bullet slammed into metal with a deafening sound, sparks flying where steel met lead.
Then Ganzack's knees bent.
In the next breath, the pirate lord launched himself from the plesiosaur's head, a blur of purple hair and snapping claws.
Jethro didn't wait, his own boots pounded forward, sand kicking up behind him.
KRRRNNG!
When they met, the clash was like steel screaming, Sparks spat in all directions as sword met claw.
The recoil forced them apart for a heartbeat, just enough for Jethro's left arm to swing up.
BANG!
But Ganzack twisted, the golden pellet grazing past his ribs.
In the same motion, Ganzack's crab-like armor hissed open.
The legs at his back locked on Jethro, launching a torrent of glistening pink foam.
FWUP!
The sticky mass shot forward with a wet sound, only for Jethro's blade to flash in a rapid diagonal cross cut.
SHHK! SHHK!
Foam split apart midair, fluttering down in harmless clumps.
"Fast!" Ganzack muttered, landing on the sand.
By the time the last shreds hit the ground, Ganzack was already above him, leaping high both claws raised like guillotines.
Jethro's eyes narrowed, the golden light in his gaze flared hotter.
KRASH!!
The claws slammed down with earth shaking force, Sand exploded upward in a gritty cloud, But Jethro wasn't there.
He'd backflipped out of range, boots skidding across the sand in a spray.
A deep, guttural roar splits the air, the plesiosaur's massive shadow fell over him.
Its neck lunged down, jaws yawning wide enough to swallow him whole.
Jethro's shotgun came up smoothly, no hesitation.
Golden light bled from the etched western dragon on the barrels, coils glowing like fire racing through veins of steel.
Western Dragon's Triple Fang!
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
The gun barked three times in a breath.
Six blasts, both barrels roaring in perfect rhythm.
Bullets streaked like molten comets, slamming into the plesiosaur's open mouth, ripping into tongue, throat and the ridges behind its teeth.
SKREEEAAH!
The beast screamed a piercing, wet cry and reeling back, thrashing in agony.
Salt spray burst from the waves as its head whipped sideways, nearly toppling Ganzack from his perch.
Jethro didn't waste the moment, his boots were already digging in, ready for the next charge.
The plesiosaur's pained thrashing sent a wall of spray over the sand but Jethro didn't flinch.
His golden-blond gaze burned, each movement trailing faint streaks of light like the afterimage of a blade under the sun.
Ganzack landed heavily in the sand, crab claws flexing with a metallic clank. "You're strong, bounty hunter..." he growled, eyes narrowing.
"What's a man like you doing in this place?"
Jethro stepped forward, shotgun held loose in his left, sword angled down in his right.
His voice was calm, almost too calm "Coincidence," he said, tilting his head slightly.
"But your 10 million head… is welcome."
A flash of annoyance crossed Ganzack's face.
[10 million berries] a figure set by the Marine's measured standards.
Even though Ganzack and Varo have the same bounty, Ganzack is stronger. Cora set Varo's bounty herself, driven by her own vendetta. As a result, even though Varo is far weaker, he still has a bounty of 10 million.
(AN: According to the Fandom Wiki, Ganzack's bounty is 10 million.)
Ganzack's grin returned, sharp and mocking.
"You'll have to take it first."
KRRNNGK!
Claw and blade met again, sparks cutting brief flashes into the shadow of the plesiosaur above.
Jethro twisted his wrist, letting the flat of his sword glide along the inside of Ganzack's claw before snapping it upward, the tip whistling toward his jaw.
Ganzack jerked back but not before the edge scored a shallow line across his cheekbone.
The pirate's counter was immediate, his right claw swung in a horizontal arc.
Jethro ducked, sand whipping at his face from the sheer force of the pass.
Ganzack stomped forward, crab legs extending from his back.
Two shot pink foam toward Jethro's legs, while another jabbed like a spear at his ribs.
SHHHK!
Jethro's blade sliced the foam mid flight.
He spun left, the golden blur of his eyes tracking the jabbing claw.
With a sudden pivot, he let the claw pass inches from his side, stepped in close and slammed the butt of his shotgun against the joint.
CLANG!
The crab limb recoiled with a metallic shriek.
Ganzack lunged again, trying to crush him from above.
Both claws came down like guillotines, forcing Jethro to cross his sword and shotgun in a high block.
KRAAAANG!
The impact was a thunderclap, the shockwave driving Jethro's boots ankle deep into the sand.
Jethro kicked up, his heel catching Ganzack under the chest plate.
The pirate stumbled back a step, just enough space.
Golden light flickered in Jethro's gaze again as his shotgun rose.
BANG!
A single shot roared, the pellet shattering against Ganzack's armor but leaving a deep dent.
Ganzack snarled, rushing forward but Jethro didn't back away.
He met him head on.
The next exchange was a blur.
Steel flashing, claws snapping, shells grinding.
Every strike was answered in the same breath.
Ganzack's massive swings forced the sand to crater under their feet.
Jethro's blade work carved bright arcs in the air, each slash answered by a sidestep or a pivot.
The plesiosaur's roars echoed over the crash of waves, circling but too pained to attack again.
Finally, Ganzack feinted low, crab legs sweeping for Jethro's ankles, only for Jethro to jump, planting a boot on one claw, springboarding high.
Mid air, the golden streaks from his eyes flared into a comet like tails.
His sword swung down in a vertical slash, the edge screaming toward Ganzack's helmet.
Ganzack caught it with both claws crossed above his head.
The force of the blow drove him half a meter into the sand, claws straining under the pressure.
For a brief moment, their faces were inches apart, Ganzack's eyes burning with fury, Jethro's with cold determination.
Then both pushed off, sliding back across the sand, neither willing to give ground.
---
"Oi! Get him!" one snarled, charging with a jagged cutlass.
Link's grin widened, his stance shifted, weight on his toes.
The first pirate swung, Link ducked, sliding forward on the slick planks, his heel sweeping the man's legs out from under him.
Before the pirate even hit the ground, Link had snatched his bandana and yanked, spinning the man into the next attacker like a human club.
Bam!
Two down.
A third came from behind, yelling.
Link tilted his head, sidestepped and the man's own momentum carried him face first into a wooden post.
The crack of nose against timber was followed by a thunk as he slid unconscious to the floor.
More poured in, five at once, surrounding him with a mix of blades, clubs and too much confidence.
"Alright," Link muttered under his breath, eyes darting between them.
"Let's dance."
The first slashed, Link stepped in toward the blade instead of away, letting it pass behind him, catching the pirate's wrist and using it as a pivot.
He kicked off the man's knee, vaulting over his back, planting both boots in another pirate's chest.
The man stumbled back into a crate, which Link promptly kicked open as he landed.
Inside? Fishing nets. Heavy ones.
"Perfect."
He hooked a net with his foot, flicked it into the air and spun it toward the group.
Two pirates got tangled before they could swing, the weight pulling them off balance.
A fourth came in low with a dagger, thinking he had an opening, Link simply planted a hand on the man's head and vaulted over him, flipping in the air and landing behind.
The fifth pirate swung a club as Link landed, he caught it mid swing, let the momentum spin him and cracked the butt of it into the man's gut.
Twisting the club and using it to trip another attacker.
The last two in the group backed away, eyes darting between the unconscious forms of their crew.
"Oh, come on," Link teased, stepping forward, "you were loud enough a second ago."
They bolted.
He let them go, exhaling with a grin.
His hair was a mess, his clothes dusty but his eyes sparkled with the rush of the fight.
Then he heard it, the thunderous crack of Jethro's shotgun from above.
Link's head snapped up.
"Daddy is fighting him already?" he muttered, rubbing his hands together.
"Guess I'd better hurry up."
---
The two men slid apart across the sand, boots carving long grooves in the earth.
Ganzack's chest heaved, each breath loud and ragged.
His crab-like armor, so imposing at the start, now bore deep cuts and scorch marks.
Sweat trickled down his temple beneath the pirate hat.
Jethro, in contrast, stood upright, steady as if the battle had been nothing more than a mild sparring session, not a bead of sweat marked his brow.
His golden-blond gaze remained locked on Ganzack, the faint trails of light still flickering from his eyes in slow, deliberate pulses.
Ganzack's teeth clenched, "Tch… bastard."
They moved at the same moment, a sudden blur across the sand.
KRAAANG!
Claw met blade in a sharp burst of sparks.
BANG!
The shotgun barked mid clash, the muzzle barely a meter from Ganzack's right claw.
The shot punched clean through the thick metal.
A smoking hole bloomed in the crimson plating, molten edges still glowing from the impact.
The force knocked Ganzack back half a step, his stance faltering.
Jethro's eyes narrowed.
Opening!
SHHKKK!
The katana-like blade flashed upward in a clean, brutal arc, shearing clean through the base of Ganzack's left claw.
The massive pincer crashed into the sand with a dull thud.
The pirate staggered back, staring at the ruined remains of his weapons, one claw destroyed, the other crippled.
His expression twisted from shock… to fury… to something unhinged.
"You… you…" His voice cracked, a vein bulging at his temple.
"You rotten... filthy... son of a-" His curses spilled, each more venomous than the last, a flood of spit flying from clenched teeth.
Then Ganzack roared his final word, "DIE!"
BOOM!
A deafening explosion ripped through the air behind him, sending a column of fire and smoke clawing toward the sky.
Jethro's stance shifted instantly, weight lowering, eyes flicking between Ganzack and the smoke.
His grip tightened on both sword and shotgun.
FWSHH!
A sharp sound of movement at his side and Link appeared, springing into view with the light, quick steps of someone used to dodging death.
"Daddy, what's going on?" Link's voice carried both urgency and worry.
Jethro glanced down briefly.
The boy's clothes were smeared with dirt and his arms bore the same dusty marks no wounds, just the aftermath of a fight he had clearly won.
His knuckles dripped with blood… none of it his own.
Before Jethro could answer, Ganzack's voice bellowed over the chaos.
"Open the underwater cavern!"
The island itself seemed to respond.
RRRRMMMBLLLE!!
The ground trembled violently under their feet. The sand quivered like water under heavy rain.
Somewhere beneath, the deep, groaning sound of shifting metal echoed upward.
The rumble only grew louder.
---
The smoke peeled back in tatters, carried by the sea wind.
Out on the water, a monstrous silhouette emerged, a colossal battleship, its hull plated in black iron, being dragged forward by the wounded but still raging plesiosaur.
Rising from its center was a towering black spire, a Devil Tower, its cruel shape like a finger stabbing at the sky.
Jethro caught the sight from the corner of his eye but never loosened his focus on Ganzack.
Ganzack's gaze darted to the ship. His jaw set. He bent his knees, ready to leap for the escape.
"No…" Jethro's voice was quiet but final. "You won't get away."
His stance shifted, weight low, sword angled. A faint golden light rippled in his eyes.
"One Sword Style Secret Technique…" he murmured.
Beside him, Link's eyes widened until they nearly sparkled.
'Technique! Daddy is using a technique!' The thought buzzed in his mind, his small fists clenching in excitement.
Jethro vanished.
In the next heartbeat, he was in front of Ganzack, so close the pirate's eyes flared in raw horror.
"…White Dragon's Judgement!"
First Fang!
The blade came down in a swift, diagonal slash from shoulder height.
Flesh and armor alike parted cleanly, Ganzack's left arm severed at the shoulder.
A spectral Eastern dragon coiled along the blade, its frost lit eyes fixed on him like a predator savoring the kill.
Second Fang!
Before the first spray of blood hit the ground, Jethro twisted the blade, sweeping low.
Both legs were severed in one fluid cut, the dragon's ghostly tail flicking as though swatting prey aside.
Final Fang!
The blade rose again, edge gleaming cold. In a smooth, merciless arc, it cleaved through the pirate's remaining arm.
The dragon's phantom head lunged forward, jaws snapping shut in a shimmer of icy light before dissolving into mist.
It all happened in a single breath.
The sword never stopped moving, the motion one unbroken ribbon of death.
The last thing Ganzack saw was Jethro's golden-blond, merciless gaze, eyes cold enough to freeze the sea.
Then the pain came and with it his scream, until darkness swallowed him.
Blood sprayed across the sand in bright arcs.
Jethro exhaled hard, his chest rising and falling.
The technique left a drag in his muscles, a weight behind his breathing.
He looked down at Ganzack's unconscious, mangled form with detached calculation.
Killing him here would only waste the bounty, the nearest Marine base was far and a corpse wouldn't hold value by the time it arrived.
Link appeared at his side, practically bouncing.
"Daddy! That was amazing! What was that? How did you do it? Can you teach me? How many techniques do you have? Was that your strongest one? What's the dragon mean? Did you name it yourself? Can-"
Jethro didn't answer.
Each question came faster than the last and though he could've spoken, his breath wasn't yet back.
Instead, he sat down heavily in the sand.
Link's voice softened, shifting from excitement to concern.
"... Daddy? Are you okay? You're not hurt, right? You don't look hurt but you're breathing funny-"
Jethro reached out without a word, pulling Link closer until their foreheads touched a brief, grounding press, warm but fleeting.
Before the boy could react, Jethro pulled away, bent down and hoisted Ganzack's mangled body over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
Without a pause, he started toward the village, boots crunching over blood speckled sand.
Link froze mid sentence, caught completely off guard by the quiet, intimate gesture.
For once, he didn't speak, just stood there, silent but smiling in that small, content way only he could.
"Link, what are you doing? I'm going to leave you!" Jethro called over his shoulder, voice flat but carrying.
"…Ah?" Link blinked, then spotted his dad already a good distance away, walking like he meant it.
"Coming!" he chirped, breaking into a skipping run to catch up, humming under his breath like a child without a care.