Nami's face twisted in fury, her palm slamming the table with a resounding crack.
"Fifty thousand Berry entry fee?! You gotta be kidding me!"
"Ain't kidding. That's the ticket to run."
Deep in the tavern's sprawling top floor, at the farthest nook, a rotund man puffed his cigar, unfazed across the broad desk.
The race's bookie, roping in runners and raking fees. Nami had bristled at the concept—but the number snapped her leash.
Dead End demanded fifty grand upfront.
Her eyes blazed the instant it dropped; restraint crumbled, protests spilling free.
Behind her, the other three watched with varying shades of dismay.
Luffy? All in, cost be damned. Usopp? Gleam of salvation—maybe a dodge. Vivi? Lost in the weeds.
"Knock it to fifty Berry."
"Hah! Cute kid. But this here's a gauntlet for pirate balls-of-steel. Play house with Mom if you want pretend."
"Entry fees are bullshit. You just pocket cash without running!"
"Damn straight. We're pirates—ain't chasing freebies. Runners chase the pot; bettors pool for it; we hosts skim the fees. Been the game forever."
"But fifty grand?!"
"No pay, no Pose. No race."
The bookie's smirk grated; Nami's glare sharpened to knives.
Slimy bastard. Sure, she craved the race—but right now? More itch to wipe that grin. Her brain churned plots for it.
She fired back, sly and spiteful.
"Hmph—fine. Got a counter. Don't even need your damn Pose."
"Good luck with that."
The bookie's smug nod hit like he'd read her script.
Nami's face soured mid-scheme.
"Figure you're plotting tail a mark or swipe a Pose. Most try. We hire guards for that shit."
"Guh—cocky prick..."
She growled low, momentum killed. Gut-punch plan exposed, countermeasures locked? Rethink city.
Pirate urge screamed: flatten him. Deep breath steadied her—no. That'd make her gutter-scum. Luffy aimed King; she couldn't drag him low.
Cool head, force it—Nami wrestled calm.
Usopp? Opposite: beaming, terror thawed. No entry? No suicide sprint. Joy radiated.
"Dah ha ha—broke? Tough break. Guess we're out, Luffy—Alabasta express. Hey, Vivi's royalty—kingdom'll cough up thanks, right?"
"M-Me?"
"Yeah, Vivi? C'mon—for smooth sailing..."
"Y-Yes... Can't tap state funds quick, but my savings could—"
"See? Straight shot—"
Usopp tugged focus, scheming exit. Nami wheeled, blinking at the pair.
"What're you on? That's baseline. Not sweating it."
"Wha—?! Already factored?!"
"Y-You never mentioned..."
"Delivering a princess? Expected. Separate from ditching three hundred mil."
"Then pay up already... fifty grand ain't nothing."
Hope gutted, Usopp deflated.
Sigh escaped; he slumped throwaway. Vivi? Blindsided by the side-hustle reveal, gaze dropping sheepish.
For them? Gut-punch. But sway? Nil.
Talk stalled.
Timing it perfect, a shadow approached, voice cutting in.
Tall youth: yellow tracksuit, black capris over matching boots, footfalls clipping steady.
Black silk topper crowned him; hair edged faint red.
Piercing eyes locked Luffy—vibe worlds from the riffraff.
"No cash? I'll front it."
"Hm?"
Casual toss, zero edge—easy query to Luffy.
Usopp's dread spiked; he wedged front, shielding like doom loomed yes-bound.
"Whoa—popping in, what gives?! Butt out! We're this close to wrapping!"
"But terms. Ride your ship—race duration."
"You deaf?! Ignoring me?!"
"You covering? Shi shi shi—solid guy."
"Stop—Luffy! You're too damn trusting!"
Usopp's desperate yelp? Ignored. Luffy and the youth eyed steady.
Business as usual.
Zero doubt—he'd bite the offer raw.
"Later payback—spot me?"
"Ship ride?"
"Yeah—cool."
"Wait—Luffy! No clue who he is... that condition?!"
"Right—Luffy~! Think first!"
Usopp yanked; Nami joined, clutching shoulders.
Pirate nest, off-vibe stranger—Luffy alone skipped the flags. Normal folk? Sniffed traps instant.
Aura alone packed menace.
Poster-fresh? Nope.
That the snag? Unknowns chilled different from known devils.
Not weak, that frame—no sir. Solo stroll? Guts. But backups lurking? Ambush bait. The pair braced for it.
Oblivious to the vibe-check, Luffy grinned query.
"Name?"
"No—ain't riding! This shady creep on the Merry? You?!"
"Schrayer... Schrayer Baskud."
Topper tipped, grin laced implication.
The drop rippled faint.
Faces paled near.
Pirates mid-bite froze; bookie's smirk died; hush swallowed sound—like air thickened lead.
The trio clocked it first—peril post-name.
Eyes flicked: pirates rose, steel in hand, closing slow.
Fray's embers reignited—bloodshot stares the tell.
They huddled tight, ducking Luffy's back.
"Schrayer Baskud?!"
"That's the bounty hunter's tag, right?"
"Yeah—'Pirate Executioner'?"
"Solo'd a fifty-mil head, they say. For real?"
"Weird as hell—hunter crashing pirate turf?"
"Here to 'execute' us?"
"Hah—hilarious."
Twenty-odd swarmed quick.
Schrayer ringed—Luffy's crew collateral.
One saber-flat to Schrayer's jaw, murmuring menace.
"Oy—spill. What's the play crashing here? Suicide run?"
"Shut it. My turf, my call."
"Nah—pirate rock, pirate rule. You a pirate? Nah. Means you're out."
"Legit route in. No beef."
"Tch—stowaway on some tub? Fine then."
The two-meter brute regripped.
Pulled close, muscles bulged showy.
Power coiled; overhead chop for Schrayer.
Up-close, Vivi, Nami, Usopp gasped soft. Luffy? Blank slate, cool watch.
"I'll judge. Verdict: you die here!"
High arc plummeted.
Saber split skull-bound; Vivi squeezed eyes shut.
Consensus doom—but vision betrayed.
The swing's owner flew.
Two-meter bulk ragdolled by Schrayer's whip-snap kick—gut-shot, tumbling dirt.
No blackout, but shock etched deep—even for him.
Blinking frantic, he clutched ribs, hauling up.
Schrayer reset: post-kick poise, leg extended proof-real. Dropped it, hands pocket-deep.
Outnumbered, he grinned.
Comprehension dawned; roars erupted, weapons high.
Luffy's crew? Forgotten—spotlight Schrayer sole.
"Bastard... cocky much?"
"Who you messing with? Huh?"
"We're Gasparde's crew—kid-stopper central."
Saber, clubs, axes circled; Schrayer dipped head, smirking low.
"Huh—handy."
"Regret landing here!"
Fresh lunged right-flank.
Schrayer vaulted light, hand to a shoulder—backflip clear, bounding the ring easy.
Landed clean, solo zone.
Topper tossed aside, clutched in hand—red-tinged hair spilled.
Chiseled features: sharp, iron-willed eyes. No flinch at the mob.
Thought struck; he frisbee'd the hat Luffy-ward. Spun true, caught clean.
Luffy blinked baffled.
Crowd bristled; Schrayer called over.
"Sorry—hold this. These clowns cramp the chat."
"Got it. Sure."
"Big talk—time to shut it!"
Floor-mates piled in.
Hundreds, easy—not just Gasparde's. Grudge-holders, ego-pricked interlopers, brawl-junkies. Minds varied; steel unanimous: Schrayer's head.
Wave built; Schrayer rolled shoulders, grin widening.
Brawl bonanza? Welcome.
No fear—stared down the horde.
"Bastard—strutting?"
"You iced my mate."
"Make it fun—before you bail."
"Heh—looks lively. Deal me in."
Weapons loomed; Schrayer coiled knees, power banking.
Mob surged; fray ignited.
"End him!"
Tavern thundered roars.
Front-back crush walled escape—no gaps. But Schrayer hopped light, low-dashing the press.
Into the teeth: hand to ground, leg whipped high.
Lead chin lifted staggering.
No KO—stumbled, steadied. But saber vanished—now Schrayer's grip.
Reverse-gripped left, ready.
Pirates charged; he met the tide head-on.
Luffy spectated, hooked hum escaping.
Nimble as hell. Long limbs warded close; when pressed, he'd roll, no-windup backflip, threading strikes airy.
Environment? Ally too.
Zero backup, horde hell? Fuel. Pirate packs clashed unco— he ghosted gaps, repositioning fluid.
Crowd-control pro.
Solo hunter's craft: fight fleeing, weird but wicked effective.
Open field? Doom. Schrayer wove, crashing the feast-zone—vaulting tables strewn with grub and glass.
Behind: pirate line, pistols primed.
Flip a slab shield-ward. Shots cracked instant.
"Fire—kill!"
"Yeehaw~!"
Ad-lib sync; pops chained, smoke haze, bullets punching wood.
Schrayer near-grazed, cool cracking faint—liver chilled.
"Whew. Numbers game."
Left: saber.
Unfamiliar, but better bare. Grip checked; volley died—he bolted cover.
Face-to-face: near-three-meter hulk, axe high.
"Whoa—big fella."
"Die, scum!"
Double-grip full-swing: slab splintered, plates bisected casual.
Schrayer? Pristine.
Twist low; wrist-slash drew red—reflex dropped the axe.
Pain's gift.
Yelp cut; face-kick cratered.
Axe-free, brute sprawled graceless, rolling.
"Guoooh?! Hurts like hell?!"
"Idiot. Scrubs, sit."
Swap: runt lunged, dirt-kicked.
Twin daggers—beat-up blades screamed mileage.
Short stack, no threat—but arms? Ape-long, joints doubled freaky. The imp flicked 'em whip-fast.
"Hyao!"
"Huh—long-arm breed."
Saber reverse-blocked.
Clang light, glanced off—no strain.
No pause: next slashed, body distant, arms bridging. Eerie stretch. Lore-known, but first tango? Schrayer backpedaled wary.
Twice, thrice parried—face twisted.
Spindly? Power packed—single-arm guard? Fatigue gnawed fierce.
Defense trap clocked.
Scan, decide: blink.
Arms clamped vise-like; Schrayer flipped grip proper.
"Hyaoo! Mine—!"
Instant lift—back to turf, judgment call. Imp's eyes bugged dodge-dumb; Schrayer grinned mid-fall.
Tumble-throw: saber spun air-slicing.
Awk stance, but it flew vicious.
Second-flat: shoulder impale, scream ripped.
"Gyaaah?! Th-Throw...?!"
Fumble-fell, back-slamming.
Gap seized: Schrayer rolled up swift, bolted.
Pre-brute axe scooped; imp-bound.
Imp rose—timed perfect; Schrayer closed, double-axe arc.
Dodge? Brain screamed; body lagged.
Thick blade rent flesh—blood arced wild.
Scream choked; blackout.
Sidle past, Schrayer exhaled, glaring ahead—herding the pack.
Pro moves—untutored? Nah. Pirate vets clocked the flow, faces hardening respect.
Most reset; first brute? Up, nose-gushing, glaring blind-side, fist cocked murder.
"Bastard—that's mine!"
"Huh—up already? Shoulda stayed down."
Full haymaker whistled; Schrayer dipped casual, read flawless.
Tossed axe loose—mismatch.
Bare instant: scooped floor bottle.
Crouch low, fist sailed overhead; counter-arm rose.
Bottle-jaw connect—shatter, shockwave.
Lights out; back-crash.
Empty vessel? Luck. Shards rained harmless; Schrayer rose ice-calm.
Right: jagged neck—impromptu shank.
Dual flankers eyed.
"Hah hah ha! Bottle brawl?!"
"Block if you can~!"
Spiked knuckles on slim; spear for the pudgy.
Schrayer locked cool—acted swift.
Hurl: bottle straight, pudgy-face flush.
Shard-tip rent skin—blood mist. No cripple, but recoil gaped; Schrayer pounced.
Spear snatched clean.
"Ah—buddy—buoh?!"
Bat-swing buttstock: slim jawed, spun full—crown to floor.
Out cold.
Pudgy clocked, wiped face—rage boiled.
"What the—fucking with us—guoh?!"
Complaint clipped: spear-butt nose-crunch.
Knees buckled; slump.
Pudgy joined dreamland; Schrayer shouldered spear, smirking soft.
Zero sweat—seconds of supremacy, poise unbroken. Nimble, sharp—horde no hurdle.
Wave renewed; he braced unhurried.
Luffy watched rapt, eyes alight.
Tool-agnostic: scavenged strikes, agility awe-striking.
Fresh style? Curiosity crackled.
Mutter escaped, itch to join twitching.
"Guy's nuts—light on his feet. Bounty hunter, huh."
"Yeah... Pirate Executioner. Big-name hunter. Solo'd a fifty-mil head."
Nami's reply dragged bitter, dread thick.
Usopp chimed grim accord.
"Heard the tag, but... lanky type? Thought tank. But damn—legit beast."
"Top notoriety round here. Never seen him myself."
Vivi layered on. Grand Line bred, bounty guise temp? Still, flesh-and-blood blind.
Renowned hunter—deeds true.
Tide met, felled fluid—weapons? Whatevs.
Luffy stirred, scheming plain: hat to Usopp.
"Usopp—hold this."
"Wait—no way you're—"
"Shi shi shi—my turn!"
Grin wild, Luffy surged—Usopp snagged arm frantic. Rubber stretch; gap yawned.
Halt hopeless; pleas drowned.
Arm trailed; feet flew—zero drag.
"Why this arc?! You jump in—total shitshow!"
"But fun, right?"
"No chaos for kicks! Bail!"
"Chill—back quick."
Halt failed; grip slipped. Luffy bolted free.
Schrayer's circus scanned: bazooka silhouette distant, Schrayer locked.
No save—just spark. Grin bloomed; charge.
"Fools—blast 'em mass, done."
Burly trigger-fingered.
Crowd clocked, panic spiked—collateral cries.
"I'll flatten ya! Don't wanna die? Scatter!"
"Dumbass—us too?!"
"Oi—quit it! Don't drag us, trash!"
"Wanna end shredded?!"
Jeers wild; trigger squeezed.
Cannon-cough: mega-shell arced Schrayer-ward, powder-packed.
"Go—boom!"
"Gum-Gum... Balloon!"
Path dead: Luffy dropped in. Hop light, faced it—sucked air balloon-gut, caught clean.
Rubber shrugged; swell absorbed, bounce primed—reverse flight, mirror arc.
Burly flush: mega-blast, thunder-roar.
Screams chased the crumple.
Luffy landed soft, stares spearing—fist cocked, grin feral.
"Nishishi! Party's on!"
Pure glee, kid-like. But whispers knew: Kid's equal, minutes back.
Half intrigue, half ice.
Foe filed; he plunged the eye.
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
It may not be worth it now, but who knows, it might be different in the future. Who knows!
patreon.com/Greyhounds
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