Tell Me the Answer (3)
A ship flying the flag of the One-Armed Hand Pirate Crew had anchored right in front of Lusha Village.
They'd furled their sails early on, as if they had no intention of attacking. It was damn peculiar.
As we headed toward the harbor where they'd docked, a guy dressed way too clean for a pirate was waiting for us.
"Are you the Edward Pirate Crew?"
Why the fuck was this pirate scum acting like some high-and-mighty noble?
The sight of him pissed me off so bad my fist clenched on instinct.
"C-Captain, they don't look like they wanna fight. Let's hear 'em out first."
Elise reined me in from the side, and I barely held back.
Sure enough, as I balled my fist, the prissy bastard set his matchlock pistol down on the ground from his belt.
"Easy now. Don't go drawing your sword like some uncultured brute—how about you hear me out first?"
"Fuck your culture. Since when do pirates give a shit about that?"
"……."
His eyebrow twitched up fiercely.
What the hell are you staring at?
Acting all refined like that won't turn us into nobles, you idiot. What a massive delusion.
In the end, we're all rotten from the core—bottom-feeders through and through.
Sure, I've got this weird hobby of only preying on bad guys, but I don't strut around proud of it.
It's just the result of doing whatever the fuck I want.
Acting like I'm some justice-dispensing hero? That'd be uglier than sin.
Put simply, a pirate who rampages on his whims doesn't become noble just 'cause he slips into fancy clothes. His roots stay rotten.
"Sigh. I'd heard the rumors, but I never imagined you'd be this barbaric."
He let out a deep sigh.
Elise stepped forward. "For someone complaining about that, your ugly mug's the barbaric one here."
"You little shit……."
Look at him— one little prod and he's ready to snap.
Damn, Elise, I'm seeing you in a new light. That's my foster sis.
"Whoa, easy there." I patted her head.
She growled like a pissed-off pup whose owner she'd defended, then ducked behind me.
"So? What business does the mighty One-Armed Hand Pirate Crew have with us?"
He swept back his bangs, furrowing his brow.
"I've come with a proposal."
"Proposal?"
I stepped closer and asked.
He pulled a scroll from his coat and unrolled it.
"Our captain says: Mad Dog Edward, if you've got the will, he'll take you on as a direct subordinate. Naturally, you'll get a fitting rank and rewards."
My brain went blank for a second.
I couldn't process what this fucker was saying.
He continued. "The captain holds you in high regard. Your fearless spirit, your prowess in battle, even your bold attitude. Accept this, and all our past clashes will be water under the bridge."
He clapped his hands.
Bundles started pouring off their massive pirate ship.
And that wasn't all.
Women with their wrists bound in ropes, piles of food—everything lined up neat in front of me.
"Think of this as an advance. Take it without worry."
I glanced over the "advance" and nodded.
"And?"
"Join the captain's crew, and you'll get a cut of the plunder—plus safe passage on all the routes we've claimed in the Gray Line."
He smirked, raising two fingers.
"Ten percent of total take. Not bad, eh?"
Ten percent.
Considering the One-Armed Hand Pirate Crew's scale, even that slice could sustain my whole crew with plenty left over.
Yeah, anyone would be tempted. Fair offer.
But my mind was elsewhere.
I scanned again.
Where the hell did all that food, treasure, and women come from?
Looking at those trembling women, they sure as shit didn't pop out of thin air.
See? I told you.
Rotten roots don't change.
That's pirates for you.
My hand went to Cutlerus's hilt.
The guy went wide-eyed and scrambled for his dropped matchlock.
"Y-You bastard! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Jesus, still keeping up the act?
Noble cosplay doesn't suit you, so cut the shit.
"Don't worry. I'll gladly take the advance you so kindly brought."
"……."
He stared at me, confused.
"What do you—"
I kicked off the ground.
Accelerate. Accelerate more.
As I closed in, he aimed the matchlock right at my forehead.
Bang—!
His eyes bulged.
The bullet from the pistol thudded harmlessly into the dirt.
I tilted my head, palm open, and pressed it to his gut.
Lightning Ability.
Or magic, as they call it here.
Anyway, this power I'd awakened three years ago was still pulling its weight.
Ate every rare fruit I saw, meditated, trained like hell—and one day, weird shit sparked from my hand.
—Crackle-crackle-zap!
"Gahk!"
Blue light engulfed him.
Lightning.
High-voltage, deep blue lightning.
No normal human could survive it—and he wasn't the exception.
"……H-Huff!"
His legs buckled.
He hit the dirt on all fours like a dog.
"N-No way. Real... magic...?"
"Ability."
I corrected the minor mix-up and slapped my palm on his back.
Again.
—Crackle-crackle-zap!
—Crackle-crackle-zap!
—Crackle-crackle-zap...
How many zaps was that?
Frizzy hair, rolled-back whites of the eyes.
He flopped spread-eagled, a pathetic mess.
Barely breathing ragged gasps. All his own fault.
So why act all high and mighty like a pirate? Fucking annoying.
"Strip him."
My crew swarmed the downed prick, yanking off every jewel, fine cloth—everything.
Left in holey undies, he finally looked the part.
Meanwhile, the remaining One-Armed Hand stragglers gulped hard.
I tossed their naked captain at them.
"D-Do this and you think you'll—"
"Get away with it?"
These guys' scripts never change.
Of course I will. That's why I'm doing it.
Why else?
Bring your fancy captain.
I'll roast him crisp.
I drew Cutlerus and pointed it at them.
"Listen up. Listen good and tell your captain word for word. Got it?"
I said.
"Come yourself. Kneel. Then maybe I'll piss on you, you coward bitch."
I grinned.
Their faces went pale as ghosts.
"Y-You'll regret this...!"
This fucker?
Still not getting it?
Dumbass pirates.
Punched the mouthy one to shut him up.
"S-Sorry...!"
"Oh? Not biting down hard?"
Beat a few more for good measure.
Finally, they folded like cards and scrambled aboard their ship.
Oh, and we stripped all the pricey clothes too.
From afar, hard to tell if they were One-Armed Hand or just naked weirdos.
"This okay?"
Jack laughed, relieved despite his worried tone.
"It's fine here."
I said.
"Lusha Village is Edward Pirate Crew territory."
Arhen, who'd watched from hiding, found her fist clenched tight by the end—without realizing it.
This... this is it!
She was cheering Edward on as he thoroughly punished them.
Honestly, when she'd overheard the One-Armed Hand's offer at first, she'd worried a bit...
But Edward was Edward.
This was the Edward Pirate Crew.
A crew of pure romance!
Then—gasp.
Arhen covered her mouth.
W-What am I thinking...?
Pirates are bad.
Definitely bad...
But what was this thrill crawling up from her toes?
The total opposite of her.
Maybe that's why.
Truth be told, the power gap was insane.
Any normal person wouldn't dream of counterattacking there.
But he always said the same thing.
Lusha Village is Edward Pirate Crew territory.
So he protects it. No question.
...Edward.
She wanted to help him too.
Their goals aligned, after all.
Yeah, this wasn't some personal feeling.
Just repaying a debt. That's all.
Arhen chanted that to herself and approached Edward.
He shrugged like you again?
Arhen asked, "What now?"
"What now? Nothing."
Edward replied.
"Gonna cut off the other arm too."
She'd grown used to his rough talk.
So her lips curved up without thinking.