At that moment, the door to the small dark room creaked open. Kuroda Hayate instantly snapped to alertness. With lightning reflexes, he reached for the Desert Eagle tucked into the coat at the foot of the bed, raised it, and aimed squarely at the half-open door—finger on the trigger.
A trembling old voice cried out, "Wait! Don't shoot!"
Kuroda's brow furrowed. He recognized the man standing at the door—a middle-aged innkeeper, hands raised in fear and eyes wide in terror.
Kuroda quickly lowered the pistol and offered an apologetic nod. "Sorry. I stayed in your inn last night, but don't worry—I'll be leaving now."
The innkeeper let out a long breath. Moments ago, this ordinary-looking man had startled him to the core. He hadn't expected such fast, lethal reflexes. One wrong move, and he'd be dead.
"It's fine," the innkeeper said with a shake of his head. Then his eyes caught the short-haired man sitting on the bed—completely naked—and the crimson stain of a rose on the sheet. He frowned slightly. He didn't need to ask what had happened the night before.
The look of realization on the innkeeper's face didn't escape Kuroda, but he didn't care. Let him know. Bonnie was his woman now, and he didn't feel ashamed about that.
As Kuroda began getting dressed, the innkeeper spoke again. "Young man, you'd best leave soon. That gluttonous little girl is setting sail."
"What?" Kuroda froze mid-motion. His coat half-buttoned, he looked up sharply. "What do you mean? Bonnie?"
The old man chuckled. "Have you ever met a woman who eats more than her?"
He continued with a warm smile, "Sure, Bonnie can come off as rough around the edges—and she is a pirate—but she's not like the others. Not cruel, not violent. Every time she comes to my place, she scares off my regular customers, but she pays for her meals—every last coin. Enough food to feed a week's worth of patrons, all by herself! She's still got some heart, that girl. I admire her. You'd do well to cherish someone like that."
But before he could finish his thought, the short-haired man had vanished.
The innkeeper blinked, stunned. "Huh? When did he leave?"
Kuroda, carrying a black duffel bag, was already sprinting through the alleyways. His instincts were screaming. He hadn't expected Bonnie to slip away without another word.
He raced toward the village dock, taking the shortest path possible. In just a few days, he had already memorized the layout of the area—part of a killer's trained reflexes.
In no time, Kuroda reached the pier. Out on the horizon, a massive pirate ship was already several kilometers out to sea.
His jaw tightened. It was Bonnie's ship—the Bonnie Pirates. She was already gone.
He had arrived too late.
So she really did make up her mind to leave him behind… Damn it.
"Damn it, you stupid girl," he muttered under his breath. "You really planned to leave me like this?"
He unzipped the black bag, pulled out a sniper rifle, and swiftly loaded a bullet into the chamber. He raised the scope and locked his sights on the ship.
Far out on the sea, a rotund pirate in a cowboy hat was peering back at the shore through a telescope. He rubbed his eyes, looked again, and saw something that made his blood run cold—a man aiming a sniper rifle directly at their ship.
He turned pale and shouted to Bonnie, who stood nearby with a wistful expression on her face.
"Captain Bonnie! Someone's pointing a gun at us! It's that guy from the restaurant yesterday!"
Bonnie's eyes went wide. She grabbed the telescope, looked through it—and sure enough, there he was. Kuroda Hayate.
Another pirate, the thin and boastful kind, sneered dismissively. "Pfft. Ignore him. We're too far out. No way he can hit us from here."
The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp crack rang out. A bullet tore through the air, sailed across the wind-swept sea, and struck a screw on one of the ship's support beams. The wood cracked and splintered as the screw was blown loose. The post began to tremble.
The spent bullet casing clinked onto the deck and spun several times before coming to rest.
The loudmouthed pirate stood frozen, his face pale, sweat beading on his forehead. "What… What the hell?! How is that even possible? The distance! The wind! There's no way—there's no way to shoot that accurately from the shore!"
The fat man beside him turned to look at the trembling post. Deep cracks lined the wooden frame, and he lunged forward, hugging the beam tightly to keep it steady.
Thankfully, it looked like only a single screw had come loose. It could be fixed with a quick patch job using iron brackets.
But no one could forget what they had just seen: a sniper shot that precise, from that far away, targeting a single screw.
The fat man muttered in disbelief, "He hit something that small… from that distance? No way… That's not human. That's insane…"
Bonnie didn't flinch. Looking through the telescope, she saw Kuroda's calm and confident expression. She smiled knowingly.
"He can do it," she said softly. "He's that good."
The other pirates were dumbfounded. The man they'd mocked yesterday was no ordinary guy—he had skills.
The hotheaded pirate growled, "Damn it! I'm gathering the crew right now! Let's go back and take him down! Who does this bastard think he is, aiming at us?!"
"Enough!" Bonnie raised her voice.
She bent down, picked up the warm, golden bullet casing from the deck, held it to her lips, and kissed it gently. Then she clenched it tightly in her fist and smiled faintly.
She lifted her arm high, bullet casing in hand, turned to her crew, and shouted:
"Set sail! Head for the throne of the Pirate King! In this great age of pirates, I, Bonnie, will be the first to find the legendary treasure—ONE PIECE!"
The fat man blinked in confusion but quickly followed orders. They raised the sails and steered into the boundless sea.
Back on shore, Kuroda watched the ship disappear beyond the horizon. A faint smile curved across his lips.
She had understood.
She got the message he couldn't say out loud—that bullet was his promise. His farewell.
And that golden bullet casing?
A gift—for Bonnie's journey.