While on one side of the island the giants and Bellamy's crew were finishing their fight, on the other side entirely different events were taking place.
The jungle here was denser, wetter. The air hung thick, filled with the smell of dampness, rot, and something metallic — blood.
— How long are you going to keep shooting them? — Gin asked, leaning casually against a tree. In front of him, a dozen dinosaur carcasses covered the ground. Each one was dead from a single shot — straight through the eye.
Auger stood nearby, holding a long rifle with a scope, and didn't even lift his gaze.
— I told you, — he said quietly, — if you see a target, you hit it immediately. There might not be a second chance.
Gin snorted.
— A second chance, huh? You drop them all with one shot. Not even fun anymore.
Auger smiled faintly, adjusting his glasses.
— You don't complain when I'm covering you.
— Me? Complain? — Gin pushed off from the tree and walked forward, spinning his metal tonfas in his hands. — No, just bored. These lizards — big, sure, but predictable. People, though — they're another story.
— You're always looking for a fight. — Auger looked up, watching Gin move through the vines. — But you're right. Looks like there are other guests on this island besides dinosaurs.
— Yeah, I can already hear them, — said Gin, listening.
Through the noise of cicadas and bird cries, voices could be heard. Human ones.
They moved forward, crouching to stay hidden. Through the thick leaves, a clearing came into view: a few huts, a large campfire, and about ten men in identical black jackets. On their flags — the image of a devil's eye.
— Pirates, — whispered Auger.
— Obviously, — replied Gin. — Judging by their discipline, their captain's no pushover.
— Listen.
Gin and Auger froze, hidden in the bushes.
— How much longer are we gonna stay here? — one pirate said, rubbing his stiff hands. — We've been stuck on this damned island for three weeks!
— Captain said we wait till the log pose sets, — another replied, tossing a stick into the fire.
— Sets? Does he even realize we're going insane here? Mosquitoes, dinosaurs, heat, and that noise all the time!
— Better shut up before the captain hears you, — growled a third. — You don't want to piss him off.
Gin smirked.
— Classic. There's always one who starts whining.
— And always one who dies first, — added Auger calmly.
But they didn't get to watch for long. One of the pirates, carrying a bundle of firewood, noticed movement in the bushes. His eyes widened.
— Hey! Who's there?! — he shouted, dropping the wood.
— Damn, — muttered Gin. — We've been spotted.
He didn't wait. His body moved on its own — swift as a torpedo. His tonfas flashed in the air, and in the next second the pirates didn't even have time to react: two dropped with smashed faces, a third flew into the fire.
Auger stayed where he was, but his rifle was already raised. He fired — one sound, one instant. The pirate reaching for his gun fell, not even realizing what had happened.
— Your turn, — he said calmly.
— With pleasure, — replied Gin.
He stormed into the camp like a whirlwind. Shouts, clashing metal, crackling fire — everything blended into chaos. Gin moved like a mad dancer. His movements were fast, short, with minimal motion. Every attack — a hit to the jaw, the throat, the knee.
— Get him! — someone yelled.
— Try it! — roared Gin, smashing another jaw.
Auger didn't interfere, only fired when someone got too close. His shots were precise and silent, as if he already knew where the enemy would step.
When only bodies and groans remained in the clearing, heavy footsteps echoed. From behind a tent, a man emerged.
— The captain, — said Auger quietly.
He was enormous — not a giant, but still imposing. His torso looked carved from stone. Long black hair slicked back and split into two parts. On his chest — a tattoo of the devil's eye, and on his stomach — a deep scar.
He stopped, looking first at his fallen men, then at Gin and Auger.
— Who are you? — his voice was low and rough, like heated metal.
— Just travelers, — Gin replied with a grin. — Who got lost.
Dias frowned.
— Lost? In my camp? — he stepped forward, and the ground trembled beneath him. — I think you got lost in life.
He drew a massive sword from his back. The blade was as wide as a man's body, and on the hilt — the symbol of the devil's eye.
Auger took a step back, aiming.
— Gin.
— I know, — said Gin, taking a stance.
The pirate charged forward with unexpected speed. The sword sliced the air, leaving a roaring sound behind. Gin dodged, but the shockwave still threw him aside.
— Fast, — whispered Auger, and fired.
The bullet hit Dias in the shoulder, but he only twitched — the bullet fell out.
— A bullet? — he growled. — I can't feel it.
He moved forward again. The second swing smashed into the ground, sending stones flying. Gin jumped back, rolled, then rushed in closer, trying to close the distance. His tonfas struck the pirate's side, but only clanged — the muscles felt like steel.
— What kind of monster… — hissed Gin.
— I am Devil Dias, — he replied. — The one who sends to hell anyone who stands in his way!
He swung again, and Gin barely managed to block with crossed tonfas. His arms went numb from the impact.
Auger fired again, this time at the leg. Dias staggered — not much, but enough for Gin to find an opening.
He leapt, spinning midair, and struck with both tonfas at once into the temple. A dull crack — Dias swayed, but didn't fall. Instead, he laughed.
— You fight well! But it's not enough!
He grabbed Gin by the leg and hurled him into a tree. Gin hit hard, air knocked out of his lungs.
— Gin! — shouted Auger.
Gin gritted his teeth, forcing himself up.
— Don't… think… I'll go down that easy, — he rasped.
He darted forward again, spinning the tonfas. Meanwhile Auger searched for an angle, aiming for the joints, firing to distract him — shots toward the eyes, but the enemy covered them.
"Hey Gin, be ready!" Auger shouted, loading something into his rifle — a moment later came the shot.
BAM — louder than usual, a small cloud of smoke rose.
Gin seized the moment: jumped, slid under the pirate's arm, and struck hard at the knee. A crack — Dias fell to one knee.
— Now… we're on the same level, — Gin smirked.
And at that moment Auger spoke softly, almost a whisper:
— Try not to move.
The final shot rang out. The bullet ricocheted off a stone and struck Dias right in the skull.
He froze, eyes wide — then collapsed face-first, raising a cloud of dust.
For a while, no one spoke.
Gin dropped heavily to the ground, his back against a fallen tree. Sweat ran down his temples; his breathing came rough and uneven.
— Damn… that was something, — he exhaled, staring up at the sky where rays of sunlight broke through the leaves.
Auger slowly lowered his rifle, wiping the barrel with a practiced motion and adjusting his glasses, as if returning to his usual calm.
— Seems I need to increase my bullet penetration, — he said thoughtfully. — How could he block bullets with his body?..
Gin snorted, without his usual cheer.
— This is the Grand Line, buddy. Even a plant can kill you if you don't dodge fast enough.
For a while they were silent. Only the crackle of the dying fire and distant bird cries.
At last, Auger sat down beside him, resting the rifle by his knee.
— You know, — he began quietly, not looking at Gin, — I… honestly thought I was already the best sniper alive. Spent my whole life shooting, competing with myself. Thought I'd achieved everything.
He smiled faintly, but his gaze was tired.
— And with your crew, I didn't plan to stay. I figured I'd sail for a while, then slip away — back to being alone, like always.
Gin turned his head, listening.
— But after this fight… — Auger continued, tightening his grip on the rifle stock. — I think if I don't get stronger, I just won't survive here. And if I die… — he looked at Gin, — then not alone.
Gin smiled — and for a moment, that smile held no mockery or bravado, only exhaustion and sincerity.
— Hah… you're not the only one, — said Gin. — We're all learning to survive here, even if we pretend we're not afraid.
Auger smirked.
— Still… — he exhaled. — Drinking in company like this is way better than alone.
— No doubt, — Gin laughed hoarsely, leaning back and closing his eyes. — Especially after a fight.
They sat there for a while, saying nothing. Only the wind rustled the leaves, and the sun slowly leaned toward sunset. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and something strangely peaceful.
Then Auger stood, brushing off his cloak.
— Maybe so, — he said in that same quiet, even tone. — But first… we should check our "friendly guests."
Gin pushed himself up, grinning.
— Ah, right. That's our job — after victory, see if they left anything interesting.
They exchanged a glance. It was brief, but full of mutual respect. The fight had bonded them more than any words could.
When they walked back into the camp, the dust had already settled. The huts stood crooked, fires dying down. The air smelled of ash and iron.
— Hey, — said Gin, peeking into one of the tents. — Looks like they weren't rich.
— Confirmed, — Auger replied, passing by a pile of sacks. — Just meat. No gold, no jewels. Not even decent guns.
Gin sighed.
— So we leave empty-handed…
— Not the first time, — Auger said calmly.
But little did they know… Dias would still be alive.