Chapter 154: I'm Just Asking for Death!
Chapter 154: I’m Just Asking for Death!
High above the clouds.
Kuro soared upward, dragging seawater and debris along with him. After piercing through countless layers of clouds, he finally spotted a chaotic cluster of floating islands in the sky. These islands were scattered without the slightest sense of order or beauty, haphazardly drifting in endless rows that blurred the eyes and defied counting.
Nearby, a massive Grand Line region floated alone, surrounded by countless ships, weapons, iron bodies, stone fragments, Black Guns, and over a dozen steel factories. Or rather, "steel lumps", since Kuro used these factories purely as projectiles. Scattered around were also shards of weapons shattered by Whitebeard.
But even this paled in comparison to what came next.
You might not know this, but we usually call those things that aren’t quite islands (too small) or rocks (too rocky) "clods of dirt." And now, countless such clods—big and small—littered the sky around the islands like a space-age junkyard or the shattered remains of a planet. Absolute chaos.
As for how high he was? Kuro had no clue. He hadn’t reached Skypiea yet, but looking upward, he could already spot the "White Sea." He landed on one of the larger islands. The entire junkyard—or rather, treasure trove—began shifting as he moved. First things first, though: get the hell out of Whitebeard’s line of sight.
"Broooooo..."
Suddenly, a ringing sound erupted from his body. Kuro pulled a metallic wristwatch from his pocket—the Transponder Snail. The ringing came from it.
He narrowed his eyes, stuffed it back into his pocket, and ignored it. No way in hell he’d answer. He had four days to go, and he’d pretend he didn’t even hear it.
Unfazed by the Transponder Snail’s shrill cries, Kuro scratched his chin, surveying the surroundings. "Hmm, time to redecorate. This place is hideous. Doesn’t fit a treasure vault’s vibe at all."
Since he’d finally made it to the sky, and with four days to spare, he decided to tidy things up.
After a moment of observation, he raised his hand. Islands began drifting toward him, their gaps filled with swirling seawater that became rivers and boundaries. The sea expanded beneath and around the islands, forming an Outer Sea that buoyed the ships into floating positions. Clods of dirt merged together, transforming into towering mountains nestled among the islands.
Metal fragments fused under Kuro’s power, morphing into colossal steel lion heads that dotted the vast island as landmarks. Around these lions, Black Guns and weapons were piled high.
At the center stood the largest, fiercest lion head. Kuro summoned two objects—Sakujū and Kigō—slicing them into the ground before the statue. "There. I’ll come here to burn incense and pay my respects during festivals."
Satisfied, he nodded at the lion.
Kuro hadn’t learned much from Shanks except for slashing techniques. Frankly, he’d trained on his own, never feeling inferior to anyone in swordsmanship. His Iaijutsu swordsmanship, derived from the Shinmeiryu Style, was honed through relentless practice. Yet, something had always been missing in his slashes.
After battling Shanks, he’d filled that gap. Now that the old man was dead, Kuro had stolen the "Slash Wave" and "Thousand Cutting Valleys" techniques. The lion heads were a nod to that fight—impressive enough that he didn’t bother naming them. Lions were majestic enough.
Wait, dragons? Please. He didn’t have a crooked mouth, wasn’t a loser son-in-law or a battle god, and didn’t have a fortune to flaunt. No way he’d go for dragons. He wasn’t worthy.
Finished, Kuro exhaled in satisfaction. The place looked far better now.
But it felt too quiet.
Sure, he preferred safety, but a little liveliness and comfort wouldn’t hurt.
"Ah, being a Sergeant was better. Sure, Kas was a pain, but at least he listened. Patrol ships, busting small-time pirates, collecting rewards—easy military merits. At that pace, I’d have become a Branch Base Chief in ten years!" Kuro sighed wistfully.
Back then, he’d dreamed of a stable promotion, a life in East Blue with food and drinks waiting, flirting with girls while learning to sail warships from Fenbodi, and dining at Baratie now and then.
What a life.
Wasn’t that why he joined the Navy? For the perks?
Not like now.
Kuro groaned, gritting his teeth. "What kind of life is this?!"
Before he could dwell, his stomach rumbled.
"Damn you, Marco!" he cursed again.
He hadn’t even finished the food the girl gave him before Marco showed up.
Suddenly, a massive wave erupted from the Outer Sea. A sea beast twice the size of a ship leaped out, roaring at a nearby pirate ship before snapping it in half. It looked starving.
"A sea beast here?" Kuro raised an eyebrow.
Thinking back, when he’d swept through the Grand Line, he’d carelessly brought seawater—and sea beasts—up with him.
The beast’s jaws tore through the ship. A rudder flew Kuro’s way. He casually swatted it away, muttering, "What’s with the rudder? Fate’s got it out for me?"
He spread his fingers. Blades embedded in the ground shot up, skewering the beast like a hedgehog. Black Guns pierced its skull, silencing it before it could cry out. Blood dyed the sea red.
With a flick of his hand, weapons carved the beast into pieces. A single finger twirl sent the chunks flying toward Kuro, impaled on blades.
He felt like a conductor.
A nearby tree was sliced into wooden blocks. The pieces assembled into a stool beneath him. He sat, lit a fire with his lighter, skewered meat on blades, and began roasting.
Why bother lifting a finger when his Float-Float Fruit could do everything? Flying or fighting wasn’t its greatest perk—it was the luxury of not lifting a finger. One thought, and it was done. Pure bliss.
As Kuro roasted meat leisurely, a colossal figure stared down from the White Sea above.
"Thud! Thud! Thud!"
He raised his gourd, chugged a mouthful of sake, then hurled the gourd aside. Letting loose a roar that vibrated the air, he bellowed:
"I’M Just Asking For Death!!!"
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
