Splash!
Buckets of seawater were hauled up and dumped onto the ground of the harbor, washing it down.
The intense, overwhelming stench of blood mixed with rot turned what was once the bustling port of Queen Spring City into a nauseating slaughterhouse.
The bloody, putrid smell lingered thick in the air, so heavy it seemed to solidify, filling everyone's nostrils and lungs.
Rorschach stood on the dark, brownish-black ground, staring silently at the coagulated, paste-like blood beneath his feet.
At this moment, all the severed limbs and scattered body parts on the harbor floor had been swept into the sea.
But the bloodstains and the grainy, minced flesh still needed large amounts of seawater and human labor to scrub away before it could be considered truly clean.
No one would forget the brutal slaughter that had taken place here just tens of minutes ago.
More than 3,000 pirates had died at this small harbor, mercilessly crushed and cut down by the Marines and city guards.
On the defenders' side, several hundred had also perished.
Even though Rorschach had rushed out the moment the pirate fleet arrived and unleashed a cataclysmic-level attack on their 20,000-strong forces,
The remaining pirates had still brought deep, painful wounds to the city.
Even the most perfect victory in war came at the cost of a few lives.
Most of those who died under pirate blades were royal guards and a few bounty hunters.
Though the royal guards wore armor, they were basically ordinary people, at best slightly stronger physically — they couldn't possibly withstand even the weakest pirates, who in Rorschach's eyes were pathetically weak.
Thankfully, among his Marines, there had been no fatalities.
As soon as this thought crossed Rorschach's mind, a trace of guilt flashed across his face.
He felt he was being too selfish — how could he think such a selfish thought?
"What are you thinking about? Aren't you tired? Why not go back and get some sleep?"
An old voice came from behind.
Rorschach turned and saw a bottle of liquor being tossed over by Jonathan.
He reached out and caught it — and then noticed his own lifted foot.
The black military boot was stuck to the ground by a thick, paste-like layer of congealed blood.
As he raised his sole, strands of blood stretched out, making even lifting his leg a struggle, as though glued down.
Within each drawn-out strand of blood, it was as if voiceless, screaming souls were wailing, weeping.
Rorschach shook his head, pulled out the bottle's cork, tilted his head back, and gulped down the entire liter of strong liquor in one go.
Then, gripping the bottle tightly, his large hand crushed the glass into shards and flung it heavily into the distant sea.
"This is the bloodiest I've ever been since joining the Marines."
The young Marine let out a long breath, gazing at the sea, still faintly red after so long.
"I don't even know how many people I killed. Five thousand? Six thousand? Or ten thousand?"
Rorschach stared toward the distant sea.
Out there, the vast ocean was littered with the wreckage of ships large and small.
Marine soldiers and bounty hunters were boarding intact vessels at the harbor, sailing out to search for and capture the pirates soaking in the sea.
As dusk settled, the setting sun on the horizon floated like blood over the edge of the ocean.
Jonathan, hearing this, sighed inwardly.
The young man before him, so young, already had strength enough to rank among the world's top tiers.
But his experiences were still too few.
"Don't burden yourself mentally. They're pirates. The ones you killed were irredeemable criminals."
"But… they were still people — thousands upon thousands of living people."
Rorschach's gaze grew complicated.
He knew the ones he had slain were pirates, were criminals.
But still, he couldn't help wondering — among those dead pirates,
Were there any who had strayed onto the wrong path by chance?Were there innocents trapped, unable to escape from the pirate ships?Were there those whose crimes weren't punishable by death, who could have turned over a new leaf after a few years behind bars?
Those pirates — whose husbands were they, whose fathers, whose sons?If there were, then with what he had done, hadn't he effectively destroyed thousands of families?
This is killing people, not slaughtering chickens.
This was not the same as the killings in the North Sea.
Back then, the pirates he cut down were all clearly marked in Branch 177's records with the crimes they had committed.
But now — there was no time for him to check the pirates' information files.
"The fact that you're thinking this way shows that your heart is still warm, that you still have kindness in you, that you haven't been made completely cold by this filthy world. That's a good thing."
Jonathan stepped forward, patted Rorschach's arm, and gestured toward the royal city.
There, the residents who had previously taken refuge in the inner city were now gradually emerging, moving across the ruins of the houses, seemingly searching for family belongings.
On the harbor, hundreds of corpses were laid out in a long row, like a dragon stretching across the shore, with residents wandering among them.
Faintly, Rorschach could hear the sound of grief-stricken weeping coming from there.
"Do you see those ordinary people?"
"If you had softened during the earlier fight, if you had hesitated, if you had wavered — the number of people lying dead on that ground right now might have been ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times more."
"Kid, I don't have any grand philosophies to lecture you with. I just want you to remember one simple truth, and that is…"
"They came to kill us — so they'd better be ready to be killed!"
Jonathan nodded at Rorschach and patted his arm again.
"To this city, to the Holy Poplar Kingdom, you are the hero who saved them. You saved the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent people."
"Stop overthinking it. If you're tired, go get some rest. Leave this to me."
"Yeah… I really am tired."
Rorschach let out a sigh and began walking toward the Hunter Guild's outpost.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a small figure hurrying over.
Then, a soft little hand grasped his.
Rorschach paused in surprise and saw Hibari, her face slightly flushed, holding onto his hand and walking beside him.
The two didn't speak; they just silently walked together.
Rorschach noticed that Hibari's white military uniform was also stained with many dark red bloodstains.
Especially her right arm — the entire sleeve had been dyed dark red with blood.
Noticing Rorschach's gaze, Hibari's body trembled slightly.
She pressed her lips together and lowered her head, murmuring softly, "Big Brother Rorschach, today… I also killed a lot of people."
"Hibari…" Rorschach's gaze grew complicated, and he gently squeezed the small hand holding his.
The girl stopped walking, lifted her head, her eyes slightly red as she looked up at Rorschach.
"Do you know? When I was little, I actually really hated being around my father. Because my father… his reputation outside was really bad. Even in Marineford, many Marine soldiers, when they looked at him, had only fear in their eyes."
"Our family's courtyard was so close to the canteen and the Fortress of Justice, but hardly anyone ever came to visit. Other than Dawes, Uncle Denault, Uncle Borsalino, and a few others, no one else even dared approach."
"The few places I've been to, people all said, Admiral Akainu is the Marine's mad dog, an inhuman executioner, the most brutal man in the world. The number of people buried by his magma could fill an entire island…"
"I used to feel really inferior, had few friends, and really resisted being with my father. And he really did rarely have time to come back to Marineford. For a long time, I was the only one living in our courtyard. Because of that, I even kind of hated him — I didn't understand why his methods had to be so cruel. Couldn't he be a little gentler, like Uncle Borsalino, Uncle Kuzan, or Grandpa Garp?"
Hibari wiped the glimmering tears from the corners of her eyes, pulling Rorschach forward, stopping in front of the long line of corpses along the harbor.
Here, the cries of grief from the families of the dead guards and hunters became especially clear.
The two saw many elderly people, their hair white, collapsed over the corpses and weeping uncontrollably — and both their hearts grew heavy.
Hibari gripped Rorschach's hand tightly, looking at the tragic scene of the old burying the young, her voice slowly growing resolute.
"But after witnessing your tragedy, Big Brother Rorschach, after living through today's battle, I've come to understand — there are some things that someone absolutely must stand firm and do. Some tragedies… could have been prevented. And some people being allowed to live is unfair to the innocent who died."
"Big Brother Rorschach, I'm not saying I want you to become like my father. It's just… I think, from now on, we might end up like my father — killing a lot of people. A lot, a lot…"
Rorschach placed his hand on the girl's head, gently patting her a few times.
His gaze swept over the ruins and corpses in front of him, then turned to the darkening sea and sky.
"Yes… a lot, a lot."
(End of Chapter)
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