Ash exhaled, sheathing his sword. The click echoed across the clearing like a final prayer.
He crouched beside the corpse, sewered his head and put the head head in a small chest nearby.
"Ten million," he murmured. "Fair trade."
The few surviving pirates cowered behind crates. One dared to whisper, "W-what are you?"
Ash looked at him.
"Debt collector," he said simply, turning away.
He walked back into the forest, the wind picking up behind him.
The firelight danced on the edge of his sword as he disappeared into the dusk — calm, unhurried, inevitable.
And that night, the East Blue grew a little quieter.
By dawn, rumors would spread like wildfire —
> "The Grim Reaper Hunter struck again. Another captain gone.
They say he walks with death itself… and that when the world goes silent, he's already there."
Shells town - 1 day later.
Fog clung to the piers like smoke from a dying fire.
The salty breeze carried the faint cries of gulls and the clatter of early risers unloading crates.
A lone figure emerged from the mist. Long black hair tied loosely, coat brushing the ground, katana at his hip.
In one hand, he carried a small wooden chest, old and worn. Rope held it shut.
Ash. The Grim Reaper Hunter.
---
Inside the branch headquarters, Axe Morgan leaned against the counter. His massive frame filled the room, eyes scanning the docks.
He straightened when he saw Ash.
"Ah," Morgan said, voice low but amused. "Back so soon, eh? I remember the first one. You didn't leave me any headaches that time."
Ash smirked, tossing the chest onto the counter.
"Old habits die hard," he said casually. "Some pirates like to be memorable. Others… need a reminder."
Morgan's gaze flicked to the chest. "You brought… him?"
Ash tilted his head, a faint glow in his violet eyes. "Of course. A man dies when he is forgotten. I make sure no pirate, and no Marine, ever forgets my work."
---
He unfastened the ropes and opened the chest.
Inside lay the severed head of Vexlan "Red Vane" Crowe, eyes wide in death, blood dried across the jaw.
Morgan stepped back slightly, old habit meeting the grotesque reality. "You… you did this yourself?"
Ash's grin was easy, Ace-like, warm in its own way, but the edge in his eyes was sharp as a blade.
"Of course," he said. "A bounty isn't just a number. It's proof. A story. History."
He leaned slightly forward, voice softer now, philosophical. "I intend to be remembered. Not as some shadow on a wanted poster — but as the Grim Reaper who made the seas themselves pause to listen."
---
Morgan grunted, folding his massive arms. "Still, your methods… disturbing. But effective. And damn hard to forget."
Ash chuckled. "Exactly the point."
He glanced at a Marine recruit taking notes nervously. "You ask why I hunt pirates?" he said casually. "Because balance is needed. Pirates want chaos. Marines want order. I? I just remind the world that someone keeps score."
The boy swallowed hard. "Do you… fear death?"
Ash smiled faintly, leaning back. "Fear? Nah. Respect it, maybe. It's the only thing that keeps life interesting."
He picked up the chest again, tying the rope neatly. "And names…" he said, voice low, almost reverent. "Names last longer than flesh. Money dies with hands that touch it. I intend to be immortal in their stories."
---
Morgan's lips twitched. "Your legend grows fast, Ash. East Blue will remember your face before the year ends."
Ash tilted his head, sunlight catching a wisp of hair. "Good. A man dies when he is forgotten. I'd rather die twice than be lost to memory."
He set the chest down, straightened, and gave a small bow. "Red Vane's tale ends here. Mine… has only begun."
---
Ash walked toward the docks, the mist curling around him. His coat fluttered like dark waves.
The faint clink of his katana echoed in rhythm with his steps.
Behind him, the whispers began.
> "He's real…"
"The Grim Reaper Hunter… and he wants the whole East Blue to remember his name."
"They say he delivers death… and immortality, too."
A faint laugh rode the wind — Ash's.
> A man dies when the world forgets him. I'll make sure they never do.