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Chapter 1017: I've Never Been a Killer, You Know
Chapter 1017: I've Never Been a Killer, You Know
The two locked eyes, the atmosphere thick with tension.
Ben Beckman drew the musket slung at his waist like a sword, Rakuyan Lung produced his pistol, and Jesus the Hare raised his absurdly long musket, aiming at Kuro's group.
Meanwhile, Lida set aside his snacks, clenched his fists, and shifted into a battle stance.
Klah crouched low, muscles coiled for a charge.
The Red-Haired Pirates' officers glared menacingly, while the Navy soldiers swallowed hard and tightened their grips on their weapons.
Even the Four Emperors—they were the Navy’s sworn duty to face!
Both sides stood poised for bloodshed, yet neither fired the first shot.
Among the Navy, aside from Kuro’s trio, the soldiers trembled at the Four Emperors’ reputation. The dread felt eerily similar to confronting Whitebeard at Marineford.
But Shanks hadn’t brought his full crew—his forces were incomplete.
Even his own men harbored wariness toward Kuro.
Back at Marineford, Kuro had carved a scar across his leader’s face, a mark that lingered still.
A swordsman this formidable, a Devil Fruit user of the Float-Float Fruit—clashing here would mean no easy victory.
Red-Haired Shanks shared this sentiment. Though young during that fateful encounter, the shadow Shanks cast had haunted him ever since.
After Rocks fell, the figure wielding the greatest influence wasn’t Whitebeard or their captain—it was Shanks.
The Flying Admiral’s daimyo, a dominator of the Grand Line!
Even now, he doubted their captain could’ve bested Shanks back then. Yet fate, as always, twisted unpredictably.
That battle had seen a monstrous storm Shanks couldn’t control, forcing his retreat into oblivion.
But miracles like that didn’t repeat themselves.
Yet this man—Kuro—was perilous. His bold stance toward the New Era unsettled Shanks, a looming threat. He’d staked everything on this era, yet Kuro’s authority within the Navy allowed him to shape their operations. Recent campaigns proved his impact.
The new Seven Warlords of the Sea left the Grand Line’s first half in chaos. His pirate crew had recruited several elites who’d fled from that region—survivors who’d escaped the Warlords’ grasp, either through luck or strength.
This only plunged the New World deeper into turmoil. Those emerging from the first half were arrogant, even fiercer than the “Worst Generation.”
As new recruits put it, the first half wasn’t paradise anymore. They navigated it cautiously, fearing both Navy hunts and sudden Warlord attacks. To them, breaking into the New World for freedom seemed preferable.
The world was shifting—and this man stood at its heart.
And Dressrosa…
That nation, once crowned by Kuro’s king, now conquered aggressively, even defeating the Unicorn Pirate Group and absorbing their influence. Navy’s shadow loomed behind it.
Kas and Wilbur oversaw operations there, former subordinates of this very man.
A kingdom backed to suppress pirates?
The Four Emperors held sway too, with nations flying their flags. But getting those nations to fight for them? Impossible.
Their flags were shields, not swords. Yet this man—Red-Haired Shanks refused to believe Dressrosa acted without orders. Someone pulled the strings.
Between Four Emperors and Navy, the latter’s reach was unmatched.
Shanks pondered: If the Navy’s moves would alarm pirates, a kingdom’s actions wouldn’t. Perhaps that’s why this man operated in shadows.
This man—the true puppet master.
“Hearing you took down Bartholomew alone?” Shanks grinned. “He’s strong, isn’t he?”
Kuro’s voice chilled. “Yes. As an old crewmate, he misses you. Want to join him?”
“I’ll pass. My time hasn’t come yet.”
Shanks’ smile faded. His eyes flared, and the sky dimmed. A crushing aura surged, felling everyone nearby like struck matchsticks.
Conqueror’s Haki!
“His Conqueror’s Haki—” Klah’s voice trembled. Instinctively, he shifted to his beastman form, resisting the oppressive force.
It was monstrous!
Stronger than Bartholomew’s—stronger than any!
Every soul in the city collapsed, save Joshua. Even Kuro’s Navy subordinates crumpled.
“Tch. This Haki’s overwhelming,” Kuro muttered, meeting Shanks’ gaze through the pressure.
On the Grand Line, power took many forms. Among the Four Emperors, Kaido’s physical might was unmatched, his Conqueror’s Haki infused into a second form—peak defense and durability. Big Mom’s strength? Unclear, but her steel balloon moniker hinted at resilience.
The late Whitebeard wielded destruction itself—a force beyond raw attack power. Sakazuki might’ve led in single-strike potency, but wholesale devastation? Only Edward Newgate.
Now Shanks—this man—bore the strongest aura. Kuro had never felt such Haki.
A dire foe.
But then—
Kuro’s eyes sharpened. Blood-red tendrils erupted around him, a tsunami of killing intent surging forward.
All but Red-Haired Shanks recoiled. The crimson wave howled past them, piercing through the crowd.
The Red-Haired Pirates’ officers instinctively raised weapons to block, yet the energy passed through them, fading as a mere illusion.
“Killing Intent!”
Ben Beckman froze, staring at Kuro. “Is this solidified Killing Intent?”
“Killing Intent…” Shanks exhaled, his grin widening. “You’ve hidden this well, Kuro. How many have you slaughtered?”
“Hmph.”
Kuro bared his teeth. “Don’t slander me. I’ve never been a killer, you know.”
(End of Chapter)
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