Sea Calendar Year 1515, Early Summer.
North Sea, Kingdom of Lubeniru, Red Leaf Village.
Orange-red flames licked at the collapsed houses, the stench of blood mingled with the soil, and twisted, broken limbs lay scattered like shattered porcelain, turning this isolated island into a hellish landscape.
Rorschach extended his skeletal, emaciated hands, digging through the ruins and debris. Ashes covered his head and face, while the wooden planks and stones he touched were still scorching hot, causing his hands to turn red and blister.
But he seemed oblivious to the pain, continuing to dig frantically. His previously wooden expression gradually twisted into a grimace, his mouth curling to reveal sharp, white teeth like those of a bloodthirsty hyena.
After tossing aside a charred, broken wooden board, Rorschach finally found what he had been searching for—a corpse emitting the smell of burning flesh.
The body was clad in simple linen clothes, curled up with its back to him. The exposed skin was a charred black and red, resembling the surface of solidified lava.
This was a small, emaciated old man. At the moment Rorschach saw this elderly figure, the ferocity on his face melted away, replaced by a gentle expression.
Carefully, he cradled the old man in his arms as if holding a sleeping infant. The old man's face, although showing signs of pain and wide-open eyes, did not display any terror, only a mix of thirty percent relief and seventy percent guilt.
Rorschach noticed the old man's tightly clenched right hand, which was gripping something black. He reached out to take it. The old man's hand was clamped firmly, as if holding the most precious thing in his life. It was a piece of black bread, hard as stone, capable of causing injury if used as a weapon.
Growl...
The sounds of an empty stomach echoed clearly.
"Be quiet..."
Rorschach whispered as he placed the hard black bread back into the old man's hand and gently laid him on the ground.
Growl...
"I told you to be quiet..."
He opened his skeletal fingers and started digging into the ground. The scorched earth was as hard as iron, and his fingers soon bled, but Rorschach seemed indifferent to the pain, digging faster and faster.
Growl...
"I told you to shut up!"
With a bony fist, he struck his abdomen hard, his mouth opening as bloody saliva dripped from the corners, his eyes filling with a blood-red hue. He smiled as he turned to look behind him.
"Soon... I'll be full."
Loud laughter and the painful moans of women became clearer in his ears.
"Hahaha! Boys! Enjoy yourselves! These stupid, weak villagers had no sense of self-preservation. If they had just surrendered and handed over the women, food, and treasures, nothing would have happened. But they chose to resist, so they must face the consequences!"
"They dared to negotiate with us, saying that without food, everyone would starve, and even threatened us with the Navy. What fools. On this remote island, there are hundreds like it in the North Sea. The Navy can't possibly cover them all. Besides, do they know who I am? I'm Jericho the Ripper, with a bounty of 16 million Berries!"
"Exactly! With Captain Jericho's strength, even if a Navy warship came, it would just be delivering us food!"
"I never imagined my first raid would be this enjoyable. Being a pirate is the ultimate freedom. Following Captain Jericho is the smartest decision I've ever made in my life! Cheers to the great Captain Jericho!"
The pirates laughed and caroused, holding bottles of liquor as they strolled through the glowing village, occasionally commenting on the collapsed houses and corpses, boasting about their handiwork.
Suddenly, a drunken pirate blinked his bleary eyes, noticing an unusually tall figure kneeling amidst the ruins, doing something peculiar.
"Who's there?!"
The pirate shouted, and the tall figure froze, slowly turning his head towards them. At the sight of the face, the pirate felt a chill run from his feet to his head, and he fell to the ground, screaming, "Ghost! A villager's ghost!"
"What nonsense! There are no ghosts! You're a pirate, act like one... Ahhh..."
Jericho, standing at 1.8 meters tall with a sturdy build, followed the pirate's gaze to see a man over 2.3 meters tall, gaunt and skeletal, approaching slowly.
As the man drew closer, Jericho saw a face with sunken eyes, prominent cheekbones, and wild, white hair. The man's bloodshot eyes and twisted smile exuded an inhuman aura. His emaciated body resembled a walking skeleton. This ghastly appearance was enough to frighten even Jericho's ruthless men.
A moment of oppressive silence followed. The pirates didn't dare breathe, fearing to disturb this "ghost." But the growling of an empty stomach broke the silence.
"Damn! It's just a starving survivor!" The pirates sighed in relief, but felt deeply humiliated.
"Let me kill him!"
One pirate shouted angrily, pulling out his flintlock pistol.
"Don't waste bullets. We can kill him with our hands. His skeletal body wouldn't withstand a breeze!" Another pirate said, advancing towards Rorschach.
Holding a burning wooden stick, the pirate sneered and attacked viciously.
"Kid, how dare you scare us? Let me show you how I deal with you!"
The other pirates laughed as they watched.
"Haha, even in such a miserable state, you can't give him a quick death?"
But as the pirate reached Rorschach, a bony hand shot out, claws digging into the pirate's face.
"Tell me, is weakness the original sin?" Rorschach muttered.
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