On the deck
A medium-built man with slicked-back hair, blood-splattered and wearing a wicked grin, slowly stalked forward, dragging a crimson-stained scythe behind him.
"D-Don't come any closer! One more step and I'll shoot!"
The soldier's voice trembled, thick with fear.
He was the only one left alive on the blood-soaked deck, sitting on the ground, knees shaking, teeth chattering, and a pistol clutched in his trembling hands.
"I'm serious! Stop right there—I'll shoot!"
*Bang!*
A shot rang out. The bullet struck Hidan.
"Bastard…"
Hidan's face twisted in pain. He calmly reached into his torso, plucked the black bullet from his flesh, and dropped it with a clink onto the deck.
"That really hurts, you know!"
"You actually shot me? Fine! Then I'll offer you up to Lord Jashin as well!"
Hidan moved.
The butcher's blade swung down with a vicious arc—clean and merciless and the man's head went rolling.
And just like that, the entire warship was soaked in blood, corpses strewn across the deck. Blood trickled through the planks and dripped over the edge, dyeing the ocean below a light, ominous red.
The sea stank of death.
An entire crew—at least everyone who was visible—massacred.
No ritual sacrifices this time. It wasn't the right moment.
Too many people.
And frankly… he couldn't lick that many.
"Th-They've been killed!"
"S-Someone attacked the World Government!"
"Who the hell is bold enough to defy the World Government so blatantly?!"
As the scent of blood drifted into the harbor on the sea breeze, the stunned civilians finally snapped out of their daze and broke into a wave of horrified shouts.
"All of them? I thought you came to preach?"
Kakuzu appeared in a blur, landing on the deck with a casual glance at the mountain of mangled corpses. He gave Hidan a sidelong look.
Weren't you supposed to be recruiting followers?
He looks away for one minute to check a bounty poster, and now it's a damn floating slaughterhouse.
"Don't even start—these guys didn't let me get a single word in…The moment I stepped aboard, they opened fire!, So I got mad and sent them off to confess to Lord Jashin in person!"
Hidan gave the corpses a casual glance, sounding almost... offended.
Kakuzu couldn't help but laugh.
"You messin' with me? You jumped onto a government warship looking like a lunatic, and you thought they'd let you give a sermon?"
"With that brain of yours, it's a miracle your head isn't mounted on a spike."
Hidan scoffed, tossing his scythe onto his shoulder. "Tch… they were just ignorant. Never even had a chance to witness Lord Jashin's greatness…"
Then he turned, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"So? Where to next?"
"We're going to sea! To make money!"
Kakuzu blurted it out instinctively.
"…The hell you just say?"
Hidan shot him a horrified look, suddenly clutching his backside like someone had threatened his virtue.
Kakuzu turned, thoroughly confused.
Huh?
Why the hell was this kid looking at him like that?
After a beat, Kakuzu sighed, reached into his coat, and pulled out a thick stack of bounty posters.
"I said—go to sea, make money."
"We start with these people."
Hidan leaned in to peek at the top of the stack. The first poster showed a certain "Desert Crocodile—Crocodile," wanted dead or alive.
"OHHHthat's what you meant. Damn near gave me a heart attack."
"…What were you thinking of?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all! Let's just go already!"
Hidan turned on his heel and marched off in a hurry, a little too quickly.
Kakuzu raised an eyebrow.
Weird kid...
Still, he didn't press. Just shook his head and followed, footsteps crunching over broken bodies.
Behind them, a massacre smoldered in silence.
---
A while later, the sun climbed high, and the air around the dock was choked with the reek of blood.
A creaking sound came from the warship's hull—its cabin door slowly opened, revealing a pale, terrified face.
The man peeked out, saw the shredded corpses littering the deck and promptly slammed the door shut.
URGH—!"
The sound of violent retching echoed inside.
The pale-faced man stumbled backward like a drunk beetle, half-crawling, half-rolling back into his quarters. He fumbled for the den den mushi and jabbed the dial with shaky fingers.
Bloop. Bloop.
"This is Sengoku."
Sengoku! Send someone—send an admiral! Someone's declared war on the World Government!"
"My ship—my whole ship is full of corpses! Hurry, dammit, hurry—!"
On the other end in Marineford, Fleet Admiral Sengoku stared at the den den mushi with a blank expression.
Who the hell is this?
Screaming like a lunatic from the jump…
And why would someone call the Marines about a threat to the World Government?
"Who is this?" Sengoku finally asked.
"YOU BASTARD—it's me, SPANDINE!!"
"Spandine! Watch your mouth!"
Sengoku snapped, voice rising sharply. The nerve of this guy cursing at him?
But the other end didn't even flinch.
Spandine kept screaming like a madman, panic turning his words into a slurry:
"Send someone—send an admiral! I think someone's trying to kill me!"
"Hurry—hurry!"
Sengoku stared at the den den mushi, baffled.
Did this guy hit his head?
What the hell happened out there?
"You think I can just send an admiral like it's takeout?!"
"Start from the top. Tell me everything that happened."
Sengoku, calm as ever, didn't rush—if anything, he sounded borderline indifferent. Maybe even a little passive-aggressive.
After all, this wasn't the first time he'd butted heads with Spandine. Back during the Ohara incident, that guy had dared to talk back to him in front of Kong.
And now he had the nerve to ask Sengoku to send an admiral?
What's next? Calling a Buster Call like it's room service?
"Someone's trying to kill me…" Spandine stammered. "I—I even suspect the bastard killed my son…"
Spandine gave a short, scrambled summary of the whole mess.
"…Is that so?" Sengoku said mildly.
"Well, I've noted it. Stay safe. I'll send someone to assist as soon as I can."
Click.
Didn't wait for a reply. Just hung up the den den mushi with a plop.
---
Water 7
Someone had just wiped out an entire ship of World Government intel agents?
Who the hell had that kind of gall?
Sengoku rubbed his chin, frowning. Even if this was technically a Spandine issue, he couldn't exactly pretend he hadn't heard. Not when it involved CP0.
If word got out that the Navy turned a blind eye to someone slaughtering government agents in a public port?
Yeah. Not a good look.
What made it worse?
Spandine.
The guy had apparently spent the entire attack hiding in the cargo hold. Didn't even see who did it.
Coward.
"Useless trash…" Sengoku muttered.
From the personnel logs, he knew Spandine's entourage had been well-armed. If someone could wipe out a whole CP ship—including two CP0 agents—that meant the attacker was at least Vice Admiral level.
"Damn it all," Sengoku grumbled, rubbing his temples beneath his thick glasses.
"Can't get a single quiet day since I took this job…"
He sighed, reached for another den den mushi, and gave the order:
"Send Kizaru."
---
Ever since the Roger incident a few years back, the seas had turned into a lawless soup of pirates, chaos, and idiots with too much ambition. Every Marine with combat skills had been shipped off to babysit some crisis zone.
The only one still punching in nine to five was Kizaru—who, for all his… personality quirks, was at least worth his paycheck.
A short while later, the recently-promoted Admiral Kizaru (with his shiny new salary bump) strolled into Sengoku's office, sunglasses gleaming.
Sengoku summarized the Water 7 incident in a few curt sentences.
"Head to Water 7," Sengoku ordered flatly. "And if it's not too much trouble… bring that useless Spandine back with you."
"Owaa iine~ Sending me for a massacre cleanup… is that really the best idea?"
Kizaru didn't move an inch. Instead, he puckered his lips thoughtfully and started counting on his fingers.
"If I die in the line of duty, how much is the Admiral's compensation package again?"
"…GET OUT."
"Roooger that!"
With Sengoku glaring daggers, Kizaru lazily spun on his heel and sashayed out the door—three steps at a time, like he was doing some kind of weird moonwalk.
Muttering the whole way.
"Seriously though… All this work and barely a raise to show for it."
"Not exactly a balanced equation, y'know?"
"…I heard the glasses shop in the back alley just got a new shipment. Wonder if they have that limited-edition line…"
"Oh! And that bounty for Kisame… pretty sure that hasn't been paid yet."
"By the schedule, that shark-faced freak should be arriving at Water 7 right about now. Maybe I'll run into him…"
His muttering echoed down the hall.
CRACK.
Sengoku snapped the pen in his hand clean in two, ink splattering all over his fingers and desk.
"Bastards. Every single one of them…"
(End of Chapter)
There's a certain art to knocking someone out cold and then reviving them from the dead.
And Kisame? He was feeling extra artistic today.
The CP boys hadn't even cooled down before he slapped on the last seal and stepped back with a grin.
"Edo Tensei no Jutsu!"
A rumble. A coffin. That oh-so-familiar thunk as it nearly crushed his foot.
Ahhh, the smell of necromancy in the morning.
The lid blew open with a dramatic crash.
"BASTARD! I'M GONNA KILL YOU—!"
Kakuzu launched out like a missile, fist raised, rage fully intact.
WHAM!
Samehada blocked the blow like a door slammed in a tax collector's face.
Kakuzu froze, confusion flickering in his eyes.
His arm… didn't want to move. His heart (well, one of them) felt… off.
"The hell?" he growled.
"I swear, you're starting to feel like that damn snake. My body's not doing what I tell it to."
Kisame chuckled, rubbing his shoulder.
"Heh, you felt that, huh? Pretty good vessel, right? Freshly knocked out government assassin—comes with premium muscle tone and a built-in sense of superiority."
"Don't think I'm letting this go just because you gave me a fancy new meat suit."
Kakuzu lowered his fist. His eyes narrowed.
"Now… where's my money?"
Kisame froze mid-grin.
"Uhh…"
"Don't 'uhh' me. Where. Is. My. Money?"
"…I spent it."
"You WHAT?!"
"All two billion. Gone."
The silence could've shattered bones.
Even the unconscious CP agents twitched.
"Two billion?!" Kakuzu's voice shot up an octave.
He stepped closer, expression darkening to apocalyptic.
"What the hell could possibly cost—"
"A ship!"
"…a ship?"
Kakuzu blinked. Once. Slowly.
"You spent two billion… on a boat?"
"Technically… it wasn't enough. So I figured—hey, maybe it's time you came back and helped out a bit, y'know?"
Kisame pulled out his best 'you're-practically-family' smile.
The same one Orochimaru used before suggesting a little light experimentation.
"…Just this once," Kakuzu finally growled.
"From now on, I handle the money. Period."
Kisame nodded quickly.
He'd expected a punch, maybe a decapitation attempt. This was much better.
Kakuzu flexed his new arms, adjusting to the body. He was mid-squat stretch when he paused.
"…So how much more do you need for this stupid boat?"
Kisame hesitated.
"You sure you want to know?"
"Yes. If I'm managing the budget, I need to know your expenses."
Kakuzu looked up, and something primal deep inside him shivered.
Kisame scratched his cheek. Awkward grin back in place.
"…Fifty billion Berries."
"That's not bad, just five hu—"
Kakuzu froze.
"…FIFTY BILLION?!"
It echoed through the bar.
A bird outside exploded in mid-flight.
Somewhere, a banker woke up in a cold sweat.
Kisame nodded solemnly.
"It's got a built-in hot spring, a chakra-forge engine, and a shark-shaped figurehead that breathes steam."
Kakuzu dropped to his knees, staring at the floor.
"I was dead for three months."
"Three months and you managed to go from richest rogue ninja in history to fifty billion in debt."
Kisame patted him on the back.
"Welcome back, partner."
Kakuzu stared at Kisame like he was trying to see through him—like somewhere behind those dead-fish eyes and that sharky grin was a sensible person.
Spoiler: there wasn't.
"You spent fifty billion on a boat?"
His voice cracked like dry parchment.
"What the hell's it made of—solid gold?! Even then, it wouldn't cost that much!"
Kisame shrugged innocently.
"Gold's too heavy. I used sea prism stone for the keel. Cuts better through currents. Also resists Devil Fruit users."
"I—" Kakuzu choked. "Nope. Nope. Forget it. I want to go back. Put me back in the ground, right now."
He pointed at the floor.
"I'm done. Let me return to the afterlife. I was finally at peace! No bills, no partners, no you."
Unfortunately for him, being brought back via Edo Tensei meant he couldn't die.
Couldn't will himself into dust.
Only Kisame could break the jutsu and let him rest again.
And Kisame?
Kisame was not letting his financial investment walk out the door.
"Oh come on. You're already here! Might as well stretch those legs a little."
His smile widened like a loan shark about to explain compound interest.
"And besides, five hundred billion isn't that hard to earn."
Kakuzu blinked slowly.
"…That's five billion. Not five hundred beli."
"Exactly!" Kisame nodded, enthused.
"There are wanted criminals all over the Grand Line. Most start at hundred million. That means we just need… like, five hundred of them. Easy, right?"
"Five hundred heads?!"
Kakuzu tried to process that math, but something in his soul screamed this is wrong.
Then again, his soul had been screaming ever since Kisame summoned him.
"I'm telling you," Kisame continued, gesturing like a man pitching a business model,
"I'm technically a Marine now. Got the badge and everything. We can hunt pirates legally. Get paid, get promotions. Maybe even get a boat discount."
Kakuzu narrowed his eyes.
"…You're a Marine."
"Yep!"
"With my body."
"We make a great team!" Kisame beamed.
Kakuzu rubbed his temples. He hadn't even been back for ten minutes, and already he was in debt by association.
Still, after a long pause, he sighed.
"Fine. But I'm not doing this alone. You want five hundred heads, I need Hidan back."
Kisame blinked. "Hidan? Wasn't he buried alive?"
"Yup. He's dead now."
"…Wait, how did he die?"
"Starvation."
Kisame's expression twisted.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"…That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"Yup." Kakuzu's voice was flat. "Immortal body. No food. Took him two months. He screamed the whole time."
There was a moment of silence for Hidan's suffering.
Then Kisame shrugged and dug into his gear pouch.
"Well, lucky you! I've got three more bodies prepped. Was saving them for some other guests, but hey—might as well bring back the screamer first."
Kakuzu didn't even question it.
He just leaned back and watched Kisame rummage through what could only be described as a ninja hoarder's apocalypse kit.
"Scorpion venom… Konan's paper cranes… Deidara's 'Explosions for Dummies' guidebook… Itachi's shuriken set…"
"What the hell are you doing?" Kakuzu finally asked.
Kisame grinned without looking up.
"Finding the right mood lighting to summon a lunatic."
The mountain of random shinobi loot in Kisame's bag looked like it had come from a Black Friday sale at Akatsuki Mart.
Kakuzu's eye twitched.
There were poison vials tangled with paper bombs. A single cursed puppet limb. A folding fan with "Property of Temari" scribbled on it. And—was that a jar labeled "Deidara's last good idea?"
Kakuzu took a deep breath.
"What exactly are you looking for?"
Kisame, still rummaging, answered without shame.
"Obviously, something with Hidan's… leftover vibes."
And then he stopped.
"...Huh. Actually, I don't think I ever even met the guy properly. You were always the one babysitting him."
He looked up, frowning at Kakuzu.
"Got anything with his chakra? Nail clipping? Bloodstain? Screaming diary?"
Kakuzu paused, then casually split a tiny fragment from one of his own masks—a compact, writhing mass of cursed flesh.
"This will do."
"That's…?"
"Part of a cursed jutsu I used to tether us. It's basically his entire life essence compacted into a fist-sized screaming tumor."
Kisame stared.
"…You two were weird."
Nevertheless, he took the squishy bundle and jammed it unceremoniously into the body of a long-nosed man he'd been saving for just such an occasion.
A slap to the chest.
"Impure World Reincarnation!"
The floor rumbled. Dust shook loose from the ceiling. Up came the coffin. Same rickety build. Same death-trap lid.
Kisame sidestepped before it could crush his toes.
"BANG!"
The coffin popped open like a soda can in July.
"HUUUHHHH?!"
Out stumbled a confused, scowling man, silver hair tangled, eyes wild.
He looked around.
"Kisame?! Kakuzu?! Where the hell am I?! This doesn't look like the afterlife, where's the blood orgies and lava pits?!"
Kisame tilted his head and looked at Kakuzu like: this is your ex, right?
Kakuzu sighed. "You're back. Alive. Courtesy of shark-for-brains here."
The explanation took all of ten seconds.
To Kisame's genuine surprise, Hidan didn't scream or stab anything.
Instead, he threw his head back and laughed like a maniac.
"HAHAHA! I'M BACK, BABY! Praise be to Jashin! Kisame, you magnificent bastard, ever thought about converting? Join the Church of Eternal Screaming! We have dental!"
"Hard pass." Kisame didn't blink.
"Also, no offense, but your church gives bad Yelp reviews."
"Tch, heretic."
Still, Hidan was practically glowing.
He started pacing the room, preaching to the air like it owed him money.
"I'm gonna spread the word of Jashin across the New World! This time, I'm going global! Pirate crews, marine bases, stray sea kings—no soul will be spared!"
Kisame side-eyed Kakuzu again.
"You're telling me this wasn't romantic? Not even once?"
Kakuzu looked like he was about to punch himself.
"Stop reading into things."
Shrugging off his curiosity (barely), Kisame gave the two a quick, breezy summary of the world they were now in.
He'd just gotten to "Devil Fruits and warlords" when—"Knock, knock, knock!"
A firm fist rapped at the door.
"Bruno! Open up! Orders from Spandain-sama!"
"Spandain? Who the hell is that?" Hidan asked, halfway through carving a Jashin sign into the table.
"Another Marine?" Kakuzu muttered.
"Doesn't matter who it is."
"He just knocked on the wrong bar."
Kisame arched a brow, shark-grin already creeping into place.
Wait a minute… wasn't the one we killed named Spandam?
He shot a look at Kakuzu, who blinked in confusion.
"What?"
"You played his dad. Now the actual dad's here. Isn't that poetic?"
"…How do you even know it's his father?"
"I don't." Kisame smiled wider.
"I guessed."
Before Kakuzu could throw something, Kisame gave Hidan a quick nod toward the door.
"You wanted converts, right? Go greet your flock."
"Heh—don't mind if I do."
Hidan practically skipped to the entrance, his massive crimson scythe slung lazily over one shoulder.
The door creaked open.
The poor CP soldier outside nearly dropped his clipboard.
"W-Who are—"
"I AM THE APOSTLE OF THE GREAT JASHIN!" Hidan bellowed, grin unhinged.
"Come, lost sheep, for your blood shall be the ink that signs your covenant—"
"Hidan!" Kisame cut in, visibly wincing.
"Let the man walk in before you start baptizing him in hemoglobin."
"Tch. You're always ruining the mood."
Grumbling like a scolded cult leader, Hidan grabbed the trembling soldier by the collar and yeeted him inside. The door slammed behind them with a sharp bang.
The man scrambled to his feet, already regretting every career decision that led him here.
His eyes darted between:
A silver-haired lunatic who smelled like blood and was muttering prayers,
A stitched-up, dead-eyed man whose mere presence said "financial homicide,"
And a hulking fishman resting a literal door panel on his shoulder like it was a walking stick.
"Wh-who are you people…?"
Kakuzu didn't even blink.
"Doesn't matter."
"Now, what did Spandain send you for?"
The soldier swallowed, still on high alert.
But surrounded like this, he knew he had no leverage—only survival instincts.
He pulled a crumpled letter from his pocket and extended it with a shaking hand.
Kisame took it with two fingers and unfolded it slowly. A pause. A chuckle.
"Oh… now this is interesting."
(End of Chapter)
—————————
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