The marine soldier shoved the torn headscarf into Hairedin's hand and picked up the pistol left behind by Kuro. Then, acting as if nothing had happened, he casually walked out of the alley.
"Ajin!" Ensign Mouse, with his sly, sneaky demeanor, frowned as he ran over. "Where were you just now?"
"Using the restroom, sir!" The new recruit Ajin straightened up and replied with a calm face.
Kuro ran aimlessly, trying to get as far from the crime scene as possible. Although still somewhat panicked, he had calmed down enough to start thinking things through.
He couldn't return to the Redbeard Pirates. If Barbarossa discovered that he had killed Hairedin, he would surely flay him alive. In retrospect, he realized he had left too many traces at the scene: his pistol, witnesses…
Nor could he trust Arcadio. Kuro wasn't sure if, when Barbarossa found out the truth and demanded his head, Arcadio would protect him.
Kuro just wanted to leave the city. With Barbarossa's and Arcadio's reach, it wouldn't be too hard for them to hunt him down in this city.
Maybe he needed to leave Navia altogether—or even the entire East Blue.
Lost in these thoughts, Kuro failed to notice someone tailing him. As he turned into a quiet alley, a heavy blow struck the back of his head, knocking him unconscious.
Lurking in wait with a transponder snail, Tony quickly caught Kuro's limp body. He smirked and signaled to Edmond and Aramis, who had arrived soon after. The three of them swiftly carried Kuro away.
When Kuro awoke, he was in an unfamiliar courtyard. The faint stench in the air told him it was still near the slums of Kalmar City.
Lying on the ground, his head throbbing, he stayed still and cautiously observed his surroundings. Two dim oil lamps flickered, their light barely cutting through the oppressive darkness that dominated most of the yard.
"Get up. Stop pretending." A familiar voice reached his ears, making his body stiffen.
Slowly lifting his head, Kuro first saw a pair of crossed legs, then the face of someone he knew too well.
"St-Stoltz?" Kuro's face was a mix of surprise, confusion, and an undertone of fear.
The Stoltz—William—before him looked entirely different from what Kuro remembered. Gone was the impulsiveness and arrogance. Instead, there was an air of unsettling composure.
"Welcome to the team, Kuro," William said, spreading his arms as he stood up.
As he spoke, others emerged from the shadows—Edmond, Aramis, Tony, and Sherlock.
Kuro glanced at their varied expressions, then turned back to William. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," William grinned, "we're on the same side now."
"You killed Hairedin—"
William interrupted him with a single sentence that made Kuro's face go pale. "No need to deny it."
Tony snickered. The others, catching on to his tone, began laughing too, their laughter carrying a sinister edge that only made Kuro more uneasy.
William leaned in slightly, his voice calm but firm. "Why lie to me? We're already in this together. Besides, you couldn't have done it without my help."
Kuro's eyes widened. Though his composure was lacking, his sharp mind pieced together the implications. William had orchestrated this—Hairedin's death wasn't just an accident, but part of a deliberate plan.
Rage bubbled within Kuro as he thought of the endless fleeing and the shadow of death looming over him, all because of what he now realized was manipulation. With a roar, he lunged at William like a cornered beast.
Smack!
As if anticipating the attack, William raised his arm, catching Kuro by the throat mid-charge. The force of Kuro's own momentum and William's strength left him gasping for air, his throat nearly crushed.
With ease born of his [Robust] skill and years of sword training, William lifted Kuro off the ground with one hand.
Gone was the previous geniality. With cold, piercing eyes, William declared, "You couldn't handle Barbarossa or Arcadio—and you definitely can't handle me."
With that, he threw Kuro to the ground. The latter clutched his throat, coughing violently, his mind racing as he evaluated his dire situation.
William crouched down, his expression softening. "I thought helping you kill Hairedin would make you see my goodwill."
"You're framing me for Hairedin's death!" Kuro protested, his voice hoarse.
"No," William corrected, shaking a finger. "You killed Hairedin. He humiliated you in front of the entire crew, and let me guess—you told Arcadio about Barbarossa hoarding the loot. And then, just before it all went down, you left the bar where everyone saw you."
"Motives, opportunity—they're all there. You hated Hairedin, feared Barbarossa's punishments, and decided to act, spurred by alcohol. You even planned to plant false evidence at the scene to throw suspicion off yourself."
Kuro's pale face betrayed his mounting dread. William hadn't even mentioned the damning details—the pistol left at the scene or the witness.
Even without them, William's narrative was enough to make Kuro Barbarossa's primary suspect. On a pirate ship, this was no courtroom—logical accusations were all the justification Barbarossa would need to execute him.
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