Hey! Have you seen this guy?" At the door, one of the pirate underlings thrust out a crumpled wanted poster, the ink-stamped portrait clearly showing the same man who'd just limped into Passat's home. The bounty wasn't from the Marines, which meant this was a pirate-issued warrant possibly private revenge or black-market business.
"Sorry, I haven't seen him." Passat kept his voice steady, shaking his head calmly. He couldn't let these thugs know the man was hiding inside his house not with Linnana here. He stole a glance outside as he spoke at least two dozen men loitered beyond the gate, weapons at their sides, some with tattoos from known pirate crews like the Mad Monk Alliance and remnants of the Kurozumi loyalists. Their gaudy jewelry and wild expressions left no doubt: they were pirates.
"Haven't seen him?" the underling sneered, pointing at the doorstep. "Then what about these drops of blood outside your door?"
"That?" Passat blinked and played it cool. "I cut my hand open this morning chopping firewood. You know how it is." Internally, he cursed the stranger. Leaving blood on the threshold? It was as if he wanted to be caught. Now these lunatics were moments away from barging into their home.
"And what about the blood inside the house?" The pirate leader finally stepped forward tall, burly, his arms tattooed with a twin-hydra crest Passat didn't recognize. The moment he'd kicked open the door, he'd caught sight of the crimson stains trailing from the hallway mat into the private room. "You telling me a sliced palm left that much blood?"
"This…" Passat faltered. He hadn't expected them to spot that detail so quickly.
"Our boss asked you a question, old man!" the first pirate barked, reaching toward his sword.
"Enough talk. That bastard's inside. Search the house!" The pirate leader barked the order, and immediately several grunts surged inside without hesitation.
They ransacked everything yanking open cupboards, tossing over chairs, ripping curtains from the walls. They stormed through the kitchen, the tiny courtyard garden, and even the washroom. Finally, a few of them reached Passat's room and moved to push the door open.
"What do you think you're doing?" Passat snapped, stepping in front of the door. His body filled the space. His presence, once calm, now radiated a sharp tension like the air before a storm.
"Boss! He's blocking the door. That guy's got to be in there!" one of the pirates shouted behind him. They weren't trained warriors they couldn't sense aura, but they could read body language. Passat's stance gave everything away.
"Step aside, old man!" the leader growled, stepping up close. His breath reeked of sake and raw meat.
"And what if I don't?" Passat's eyes narrowed. His hand drifted to the old katana mounted beside the door a blade he hadn't drawn in years. Not since Wano closed its borders. Not since he abandoned the world of blood.
"Then die, you relic! Boys, gut him!" The pirate boss waved his hand, and a wave of thugs surged forward, eager to tear him apart.
But Passat didn't die so easily.
In a blur, his fingers wrapped around the hilt. The katana rang as it slid free of the sheath. It wasn't some flashy black blade or cursed Meito but it was forged by his own hands and sharpened with a samurai's will.
The first attacker never saw it coming. A draw cut clean and elegant flashed like a line of wind. The sword aura exploded from the blade in a crescent arc, slicing cleanly through three pirates. They collapsed in pieces before they hit the ground.
The rest froze. The air had changed. They could feel it now just a hint of it killing intent.
"Useless cowards!" the pirate leader bellowed at his stunned crew. "Fine! A thousand berries whoever takes him down gets it!"
The thugs hesitated. One thousand berries wasn't much. But then again, they didn't know the strength of this man in front of them and none wanted to find out.
"Up! For 1,000 Berries!" The pirate captain's offer worked those greedy underlings, hearing the reward, rushed forward with renewed ferocity. Even such a measly sum was enough to stir these sea rats into action.
"Hmph, a bunch of idiots." Passat snorted with disdain, tightening his grip on his sword's hilt. He launched forward, channeling his inner focus not Haki, but years of raw experience and a unique blade technique passed down in the isolation of Wano's outer provinces. His movements were crisp, brutal, efficient. Some of the thugs charged with rusted cutlasses, others with curved sabers reminiscent of East Blue's low-tier bounty hunters but to Passat, it was all the same. He sliced through them like he was shredding turnips at a stall in the Flower Capital.
"What's happening out there?" Inside the house, Linnana carefully wrapped the wounded man's arm in linen, trembling at the distant clashes of steel. She could hear her husband's breathless grunts and screams that weren't his. Her fingers paused, worry knitting her brow.
"These guys... they're not your average pirates. Ruthless doesn't even cover it," the injured man said through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. "Your husband's brave, but facing all of them alone? It's suicide. That's a former crew from the New World. I only got away because I used a desperate move and left half my blood behind."
"I'm going out to help him!" Linnana pushed the half-tied bandages aside, moving toward the door. She couldn't let Passat shoulder this alone not again.
"You can't!" The injured man blocked her path. "You'll get hurt. Let me go. I may be bleeding, but I haven't forgotten my swordsmanship." He grunted, grabbed a practice katana from the corner a blade Passat used during daily drills and dashed out. Linnana followed anyway, fear outweighing hesitation.
The wounded man, limping but determined, joined Passat's side in the yard. With a smooth arc, he cleaved through two pirates trying to flank the older swordsman.
"Who the hell are you? Why are these men so desperate to capture you?" Passat asked between breaths, slicing down another thug who got too close.
"Save the questions let's make it a contest!" the man shouted. "Let's see who can drop the most of these bastards!"
"Heh! Alright, you're on!" Passat's eyes lit up. For a moment, it felt like the old days steel singing in the wind, challenge burning in his chest. He pivoted and cut, striking down enemies as though they were bamboo stalks at a Wano dojo demonstration.
This guy… his technique's no joke. The wounded man silently admired Passat's style. His blade wasn't just sharp it was unpredictable. Unrefined yet deadly. Not school-taught, but born from real battles. Something forged far from the spotlight of the world stage.
"Enough of this!" the pirate captain snarled. Watching his men fall one after another was too much. "Looks like I'll have to deal with you trash myself!" He unsheathed a curved blade an old Wano-style katana, likely looted and charged in with a roar.
Meanwhile, Linnana, who had followed from the house, found herself watching Passat and the wounded man fighting side by side. But she didn't notice the group of pirates approaching from the shadows behind the garden trellis.
"Hey, hey, hey… what do we have here?" One of the pirates leered, catching sight of her. "Come on, sweetheart. Why don't you come with Uncle for a while, eh?"
"Get away from me!" Linnana's eyes widened in fear. She bolted, running for the back of the yard, hoping to reach the old stone fence behind their house.
"You're not getting away!" the pirates sneered, chasing after her like wolves on the scent. They had no intention of letting her go not with the chaos unfolding and the promise of spoils in the air.
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