Who fired the shot that gave support in the end?
Maude had no idea, and frankly, it didn't seem that important.
Listening to the escalating sounds of the brutal battle in the distance, he could imagine the carnage unfolding there.
As the instigator, Maude felt a tinge of regret.
In the world of chaos, retribution always came knocking.
Devoid of any sympathy for the pirates, he circled through the maze of buildings, eventually reaching the other side and climbing onto the nearest rooftop.
From his vantage point, Maude was surprised to see numerous people standing on the surrounding rooftops, some holding snacks and bottles of liquor.
Their cheers and applause echoed faintly across the night.
Watching them, Maude fell into brief contemplation.
Attacking them seemed like an acceptable option.
But there was a better opportunity at hand, so he abandoned the thought.
Quietly withdrawing his gaze, he turned his attention toward the battle raging in front of the auction house.
His focus landed on the blood-drenched fish-man slave fighting for his life.
Meanwhile, one of the pirates, whom Maude had briefly glanced at earlier, felt a sudden chill. Dismissing it as the night's cooling temperature, the pirate took a few extra swigs of strong liquor to warm himself.
Down below, the chaotic melee had reached its climax.
Some, sensing the futility of the situation, had already withdrawn from the fight.
But many more, fueled by the injuries of their comrades and the fact that their captains remained inside the auction house, stayed and fought with reckless abandon.
Initially, the explosion inside the auction house had caused the gathered crew members to worry about their respective captains, prompting them to charge inside to check the situation. However, they were blocked by the auction house's armed guards.
From the auction house's perspective, letting so many people rush inside after an incident would only exacerbate the chaos and threaten the merchandise that had already been purchased by the guests.
Faced with the guards' reasoning and assured of the venue's capabilities, the crews reluctantly backed down.
This fragile balance quickly disintegrated into a brawl, with the crews engaging in mass carnage and pushing toward the auction house's entrance.
In mere minutes, the ground was littered with over a hundred corpses.
At least a third of them had fallen to the fish-man slave.
From the moment he escaped the auction house, the fish-man had been on a rampage, slaughtering anyone in his way. Yet, amidst the chaos, his mind remained clouded.
He didn't know what caused the explosion inside the auction house.
Nor did he know who had taken advantage of the chaos to open his cage.
And he certainly didn't understand why the humans inside the auction house, including the one who had paid an exorbitant price to purchase him, had allowed him to escape without interference.
The fish-man was unaware that to the auction's guests, he was merely an item with a price tag—a commodity that could be bought with money.
If it could be purchased, it wasn't worth risking their lives for.
Even Kazte, who had been determined to own the fish-man slave, wouldn't take the risk of stopping him during the chaos.
To them, he was nothing more than a tradeable object.
If something went wrong, it was the auction house's responsibility.
This deeply ingrained perception of value was something the fleeing fish-man could never comprehend.
Finally breaking free of the auction house, he quickly found himself in another dire situation.
Just as despair began to set in, he witnessed something he couldn't understand.
The humans suddenly turned on each other, slaughtering their own.
For the fish-man, this was a glimmer of hope.
"Arlong was right. Humans are a vile species that shouldn't exist!"
With the pressure momentarily lifted, the fish-man unleashed a frenzied assault.
He no longer cared about the blades flashing behind him, focusing solely on breaking through to freedom.
This reckless strategy left him with numerous deep, bleeding wounds in mere seconds.
But it paid off. He finally reached the edge of the battlefield.
In front of him was no longer a suffocating crowd, but a weak line of resistance he could easily break through.
"Out of my way!"
With a roar, the fish-man smashed through the final barrier.
Having successfully broken free, he sprinted down the long street, his body drenched in blood.
As long as I can reach the sea… As long as I can…
The singular thought consumed him as he ran.
The pirates watching from nearby were startled to see him break free.
A few of them immediately drew their pistols, treating the fleeing fish-man as a moving target for sport. They aimed and fired.
Bang! Bang!
Gunfire shattered the night, and bullets whizzed through the air, chasing after the fish-man.
Most of the shots missed their mark due to the pirates' poor aim, but a few bullets grazed the fish-man's arm and side, sending splashes of blood into the air.
The fish-man gritted his teeth and pressed on, refusing to falter.
"Ha ha!"
The pirates erupted into laughter.
A second round of gunfire followed, the bullets raining down like a storm.
The fish-man, now like a ship battered by waves, seemed on the verge of capsizing.
In a nearby alley, Clara watched the scene unfold. The gunfire, mingled with the pirates' cruel laughter, grated against her ears.
Her brows furrowed deeply as her fingers tightened around the important blueprints in her hands, crumpling them.
She wasn't entirely moved by pity for the fish-man but was disgusted by the current atmosphere.
Her childhood experiences had taught her a simple truth:
Fish-men, like humans, had both good and bad among them.
Good and evil were not determined by race.
Bang! Bang!
The gunfire echoed again, but this time it was followed by the agonized screams of two pirates.
Two clean shots from an unknown source had taken down the pirates who had been shooting most gleefully.
Clara froze, her keen hearing picking up the distinct sound of those two gunshots amidst the chaos.
She turned toward the source and spotted a masked figure moving swiftly across the rooftops.
"Who… is that?"
Her eyes widened as she watched the figure holster a flintlock pistol and draw a long-barreled musket with one hand. Without even pausing to aim, the figure fired.
The gunshot was accompanied by the sight of another pirate, who had been aiming his rifle at the fish-man, collapsing to the ground.
"That person… is saving the fish-man?"
Clara's gaze followed the retreating figure, her eyes filled with disbelief.
Who could it be?
A Marine?
A bounty hunter?
It couldn't be a pirate, could it?
And it certainly couldn't be a fish-man.
Staring at the distant figure, Clara's thoughts churned.
She couldn't fathom who in such a filthy, chaotic place would step in to save a fish-man.
The one firing the shots was none other than Maude.
After seeing the fish-man successfully break free, he felt a twinge of satisfaction and quickly followed.
From the rooftops, he had seen the pirates spilling out of nearby taverns and gambling dens, turning the fish-man into a moving target for their amusement.
"Dare to mess with my prey?"
Without hesitation, Maude drew his gun and took down three of the most enthusiastic pirates.
Thus, he created the scene that had left Clara so astonished.
--------------------------------
If you want to support me and read advance chapters, please visit:
patreon.com / emperorgarus
I would greatly appreciate your support if you choose to join my patreon 🙏