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Chapter 471: Pirate Town?
Chapter 471: Pirate Town?
With warm clothing secured, Kuro lifted Lion Head Island skyward before launching himself toward the direction he’d memorized earlier.
After flying for a while, Kuro spotted his destination—a massive mountainous island where jagged peaks covered nearly half the landmass.
At the island’s heart lay a sprawling town connected by a port stretching from the coastline to its center.
Kuro hovered in the sky for a moment before descending. The stormy weather conveniently obscured his arrival.
He landed in a secluded corner of the port town and stepped out into the open. The heavy rain had thinned the streets—few people braved the downpour, their hooded figures hurrying past. The buildings were all low, ramshackle structures, their patched roofs hinting at poverty. Yet oddly, the streets themselves were unusually clean.
“First things first—I should ask where I am.”
Kuro turned to leave the alley when a hand suddenly gripped his ankle.
“Hm?”
He glanced down to see a hunched, emaciated figure crouched in the downpour, clinging to him with skeletal fingers. The person’s gaunt face, like a skull, lifted with desperate eyes.
“Brother, spare something? I haven’t eaten in three days.”
Kuro studied him, then opened his palm. A high-quality pelt materialized midair, defying the storm. With a flick of his wrist, he sliced off a piece that floated gently toward the beggar.
“I’ve got no coin—my pockets are cleaner than my face. I never carry money. That pelt’s decent quality though. Trade it for food.”
He tugged his foot free.
“Do you have food? Anything’s fine. I don’t need money,” the beggar pleaded.
Kuro frowned. “Didn’t I just say I’ve got no coin? You’ve got hands, don’t you? Can’t you even trade it yourself?”
“You’re trying to make me go out there! You evil bastard—I’ll never leave!”
The beggar gritted his teeth, somehow finding strength to stand. Ignoring the pelt, he shoved Kuro and scrambled back into the alley, vanishing into the storm.
His voice echoed behind him:
“I won’t go out! I won’t let them catch me!”
Kuro paused, then lifted the abandoned pelt with his ability, letting it drop at his feet.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Shaking his head, he exited the alley.
Beyond the narrow passage lay the port.
Kuro stepped out, eyes narrowing.
The harbor teemed with ships—mostly Pirate Ships, interspersed with vessels bearing strange insignias. They resembled merchant ships but exuded no air of legitimate trade.
“Pirate Town? Could I be that unlucky?”
He tugged his pelt coat tighter, glancing at his attire. Without his Navy uniform, he shouldn’t be recognizable—especially in this weather.
“Better safe than sorry.”
Snapping his fingers, he summoned splintered wreckage from the sky. The storm’s rain disassembled the wood into a frame, which he draped with pelt. Using his ability, the material fused seamlessly into a round pelt hat, its brim low enough to shadow his face.
Nodding, he reached to adjust his coat—only to remember it had no pockets. A quick flick of his wrist carved two into the waist, letting him casually stuff his hands inside.
“Alright. Ready.”
With one hand in his pocket and the other gripping his ability’s energy, he strode into the streets.
Simultaneously, his Observation Haki spread across the island.
Old habit—first, check for strong presences.
But as his perception expanded, Kuro’s brow furrowed.
“…This feeling.”
Numbness, rage, resentment, fear, anxiety—negative emotions saturated the town.
Only scattered pockets of joy or greed pierced the gloom.
A clear divide.
Turning, he noticed slits in nearby windows. As his gaze swept over them, curtains snapped shut. Faint whispers seeped through the walls:
“Shh! He noticed us! Hide quick—he’ll take you if he sees you!”
“Mommy, I’m scared.”
“Don’t worry, baby. Mommy’s here. You’ll be safe.”
“Oh god, save us…”
Kuro stared at the sealed windows, then shifted focus toward the nearest cluster of greed and joy.
A tavern.
Its dilapidated wooden door bore a chipped mug insignia. The entrance was closed, but raucous noise spilled through the cracks.
With a creak, Kuro pushed inside.
The scene within: burly, menacing figures with blades or pistols at their belts. Most ignored him, but a few scrutinized his frame.
Their attire differed from typical pirates—neat, almost military. Their leader even wore a dress uniform.
Kuro recognized them instantly—illicit merchants. Slavers, most of them. He’d killed plenty back in Shabondy.
They sized him up. He sized them back.
Approaching the bar, he tossed a pelt onto the counter. The muscular, scarred barkeep glanced at it, then at Kuro’s waist—where Autumn Water hung—before picking up the pelt. His eyes flickered with interest.
“Ten million Beri.”
He feigned indifference, dropping the pelt. “Only I’d take it. Others’d rip you off worse.”
“Fine. I’ll take it. Feed me a meal and some booze, and tell me where I am.”
Kuro knew the barkeep was underpaying—badly—but he didn’t care. With Pegasus Island’s wealth, money meant little.
“Deal. First, I’ll take the—”
“Hey! Hey! Hey!”
As the barkeep reached for the pelt, a mocking voice cut through.
A slaver—Angus—stepped forward with his gang.
“That’s a ‘Feathered Lion’ pelt, right? Ten million? Dick, you sure that’s wise?”
Dick’s face darkened.
Angus snatched the pelt, inspecting it. “This quality? Perfectly preserved, expert craftsmanship. Five hundred million Beri at least. Brother,” he grinned, drawing his pistol, “how about… you give it to me?”
His gang laughed, menace thickening the air.
(End of Chapter)
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