Somewhere along the coast of Miko Island.
A man, scorched black from head to toe and clad in tattered rags, stumbled through the forest. Behind him trailed a broken, intermittent line of blood.
At last, he reached a stretch of beach and collapsed, utterly spent, into the sand.
Blub blub—
Suddenly, bubbles rose from the surface of the sea. A head, marked by deep brown stripes, emerged and drifted toward the shore, slowly revealing the rest of its body.
It was a man with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. He wore a deep blue trench coat, and his bare chest bore a tattoo of an octopus. Clearly, he was a human-fishman hybrid.
"Felburn-san, never thought I'd see you in such a sorry state," the half-fishman said, a hint of surprise in his voice as he took in the man's condition.
Cough cough~
Felburn hacked up a mouthful of blood and barked weakly, "Cut the crap, Diludo! Get the ship over here, there's a good chance the Marines are already on our tail!"
"Got it!"
Diludo nodded and dove back into the sea, vanishing beneath the waves.
Pere pere pere... pere pere pere...
Suddenly, a shrill ringing came from Felburn's chest. He glanced down, then reached into his scorched, shredded suit and pulled out a small Den Den Mushi.
Click—
"It's me. Felburn."
"Fufufufufu~ Judging by the sound of your voice, things didn't go too well, did they?"
"You calling to gloat, Joker?!"
"Fufufufufu~ I'm not that petty."
"Well, you were right. I failed. Barely escaped with my life, took eighteen sticks of dynamite just to get out alive. You must be feeling pretty smug, huh?"
"Please, you damn octopus, I'm not that bored. Once you're safe, we can talk business again."
"Business, huh... Not impossible. I've no plans to cross that brat again anyway. Let me think it over."
"Fufufufufu~ Of course. After all, you just suffered a huge loss. Take your time and recover."
"Damn you, Joker! You were mocking me!"
"Fufufufu~ Apologies. Just a bit of schadenfreude, really. Glad I'm not the only one who got wrecked by that kid."
"Shut it!"
Click—
Furious, Felburn slammed the Den Den Mushi shut and kicked a pile of sand with all the force he could muster.
Blub blub blub... blub blub blub...
Suddenly, a mass of bubbles surged on the sea's surface. A massive shadow loomed beneath the waves, as though some sea monster was about to rise.
Felburn looked up. A sleek, black, torpedo-shaped vessel broke the surface, shimmering with a metallic sheen under the sunlight. It was a small submarine, over ten meters long.
"Time to go. No point holding on to grudges."
"My dear brother... I guess this is goodbye."
...
Marine 201st Branch.
Justice has never been a simple matter.
If you value life too much, you'll be useless. If you value it too little, you'll become a devil.
No one can stop the march of death, but what you can do is make sure the innocent didn't die in vain. If you can bear that weight, you'll be worthy of calling yourself a Marine.
On the rooftop of a stone fortress, Cross lay stretched out against the battlements, staring silently across the sea. Captain Moore's words echoed through his mind.
In his previous life, he was just an ordinary man, and had never even killed a chicken, let alone a person.
But in this new life, he had killed. Many times. And always, without exception, his victims were evil.
That's what made it easy; he was born with overwhelming strength, the kind that could crush evil with little effort.
A bad guy shows up? Beat them to death.
Another one? Cut them down.
A third? Kick them into the dirt.
His monstrous talent meant he never had to bleed, sacrifice, or bear any true burden, not really. Not like a normal person would.
But true strength isn't just about power. It's about the strength of one's heart.
And now, Cross stood at a critical crossroads. If he could take that next step, his heart might finally match the monstrous talent he'd been given.
But if he failed... he'd be nothing more than a hollow shell with brute force, never able to stand at the true summit of the world. He'd spend his life crushing those weaker than himself, never more.
Or worse, he might veer off into an extreme.
As Captain Moore had warned: value life too much, and you'll become weak and indecisive, never truly strong. But value it too little, and you become something far darker. A devil born of the sea.
At best? You'd end up like Rob Lucci, someone who believes "the weak are guilty by default," a man who glorifies necessary evil and practices a justice shrouded in darkness.
Clearly, Captain Moore understood this. That's why he hadn't pushed too hard, just offered a few words and left Cross to decide for himself. Go too far, and he might destroy a rare genius, or worse, create a monster.
Neither outcome was something Captain Moore wanted.
"Cross. The interrogation's over. Those guys were definitely after you."
Captain Moore approached from behind, holding a stack of papers thick with notes.
"I figured."
Cross turned slowly, leaning back against the stone wall. His voice was calm. "The one who ambushed me was Glens Felburn. Underground codename: 'Octopus.' He's the guy who put that 80 million bounty on my head."
"Correct. The pair you took down, a man and a woman, go by the name 'Blade and Barrel,' a bounty hunter duo. But that's just their cover. In truth, they're killers, slavers, and smugglers. They'll do anything for money. Felburn's one of their long-term partners," Captain Moore explained. "Also, the ship flying the Jimmy Trading Company's flag? They hijacked it mid-voyage to sneak onto Miko Island and get close enough to kill you."
"Can't blame them," Cross said, his voice low. "A 15-year-old kid with an 80 million bounty in the Underworld... That's higher than most pirates in the North Blue. Of course people would come for me. But damn, I've only been with the Marines five days, and already there's a swarm of killers after me. Felburn's intel network is way too good."
"Yeah, I was wondering the same. Never expected a slaver to have such a solid information net, or the ability to rally over a hundred fairly strong thugs in just five days," Moore said with a straight face.
"I thought I was helping. Turns out they were just after me... and I got a bunch of people killed because of it!" Cross growled, slamming a fist into the stone wall in frustration.
"You did help."
Captain Moore looked at him and dropped a bombshell. "That joke I made earlier? I was messing with you. Those thugs we captured? I've already ordered their execution. They weren't here for you, they were illegal arms dealers smuggling weapons."
"What?! You're joking, right, Captain?" Cross stared at him in shock.
"Kid, here's your next lesson."
Captain Moore shot him a sharp look, his tone serious. "If those men were targeting you specifically, we wouldn't get much credit for the takedown. And the families of fallen Marines? They'd blame you. HQ would send in an Inspector General to sweep the 201st Branch for leaks or traitors."
"But if those men were weapons smugglers, and we busted them in an official op? That's a major win. The fallen and wounded Marines? They'll be honored and compensated. Everyone who fought will earn commendations or promotions."
Moore gave Cross a pointed look. "You might not care about promotions or glory, but don't assume the others feel the same."
"Remember this: the sea isn't just about fighting. It's about navigating people, too."
"Because unlike you, most people aren't born monstrously strong. Every battle they fight... they fight with their lives on the line."
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