The salty sea breeze swept across the deck of the "Crimson Leviathan," as Sol, the formidable captain of The Shadowfangs, stood at the helm. His dark, weathered skin glistened with a sheen of sweat under the relentless sun, and his cold, gray eyes scanned the crew gathered before him. His yellowed teeth were visible as he bared them in a wicked grin.

"There is a Judas among us," Sol's voice, gruff and commanding, cut through the air like a blade. The tension on the deck was palpable as his words hung in the air. The crew members exchanged uneasy glances, fear and suspicion etched on their faces. Sol's carefree demeanor had vanished, replaced by a ruthless edge.

"One of you lot is a traitor," he continued, his gaze piercing through the assembled pirates. "When Sol says kill, you kill. He says jump, you jump. But you don't stab Sol in the back." Sol's voice dropped to a low, threatening growl, and he slowly reached for the pistol at his side.

The crewman in Sol's line of sight swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Sol's sly smile never wavered as he raised the gun, the cold metal glinting in the sunlight. The crewman's eyes widened in realization, and he stammered, "Captain, I swear I—"

Sol didn't let him finish. With a swift, ruthless motion, he pulled the trigger, and the gunshot echoed across the open sea. The crewman fell to the deck, blood spreading rapidly from the wound, his betrayal forever silenced.

Sol holstered his weapon with a chilling calmness, his eyes never leaving the fallen crewman. "Isn't that right, Judas?" he hissed, his voice a whisper on the wind.

The crew remained in a stunned silence, knowing that Sol's code was as unyielding as the waves that surrounded them. Betrayal came at a steep price aboard the Crimson Leviathan, and today, one traitor had paid it with his life. The legend of Sol, the ruthless and carefree pirate captain, continued to grow, his reputation as unyielding as the sea itself.