Perhaps as a gesture of gratitude for being fed to their hearts' content by Maude, the pack of wolfish pirates from last night seemed particularly enthusiastic today. When they flocked to the tavern to drink and boast, they practically sang Usopp's praises to the heavens.
"Did you hear? Usopp single-handedly took out the sharpshooter squad of the Redhorn Pirates with just one gun!"
"That's nothing! They say he boarded their ship alone and stabbed Kazte to death with a single strike!"
These heavily exaggerated accounts originated from their very own mouths.
They reasoned that since Maude had dared to march onto the Redhorn Pirates' ship to finish off Kazte without even sparing a thought for their loot, there could only be one explanation: he was after fame.
And so, these pirates, bellies full and consciences conveniently pacified, decided to lend Maude a hand by spreading his name far and wide. They justified their actions as a fair trade: "We got paid, we did the work. Now we're square, so don't come after us later."
Thanks to their efforts, the name "Usopp," which Maude had casually thrown out on a whim, became the hottest topic in town within just half a day.
Even the infamous Battleaxe Tavern incident, which had already begun to fade from memory, was dredged back into the spotlight.
In this small, remote corner of the world, the name "Usopp" soon eclipsed even the rising star of the seas—Portgas D. Ace.
Maude, confined to quarters under strict orders, remained completely oblivious to all of this.
"Usopp? Never heard of him. Some no-name guy took out Kazte with one blow? Seriously?"
In a lively tavern, a burly, bearded man looked incredulous.
At a nearby table, another pirate overheard and chimed in, "Even if Kazte was injured, there's no way he'd go down in one strike. Still, the Redhorn Pirates really did fall to some guy named Usopp."
"Who the hell is this Usopp, anyway?"
The bearded man's disbelief deepened. He had once been at odds with the Redhorn Pirates and knew firsthand just how formidable they were.
While their regular crew members weren't much to speak of, figures like Lagren and Gabdon, with bounties nearing 20 million berries, were elite fighters by any measure.
And Kazte? Even renowned Marine captains in the West Blue couldn't handle him.
Yet, this supposedly unknown figure had managed to annihilate such a crew.
The nearby pirate downed a hearty swig of booze before responding somberly, "Every year, someone new pops up and grabs everyone's attention. Before they're famous, no one knows where they came from. But once they make their mark? Well, just look at Portgas D. Ace."
The bearded man fell silent.
It was true.
Year after year, this cycle repeated.
Some rode the wave of fame to greatness.
Others were dragged under, overwhelmed by the tide they themselves had stirred.
Mad Hat Town, Dockyard.
Aboard a certain pirate ship, in the captain's quarters, a greasy-haired man with narrow, triangular eyes lounged lazily in a cushioned chair. His legs rested atop a table cluttered with glittering jewels and golden trinkets.
"I'd just heard Kazte got injured a few days ago, and now I hear he's dead," he muttered, leaning forward as his cold, calculating gaze lingered on the treasure before him.
"Kazte, Kazte… I'd been thinking we could work together again, but I guess that's off the table now."
"That you'd fall to some rookie named Usopp… Heh, I'll have to keep an eye on this one."
The man closed his eyes, savoring the lingering thrill of his recent raid on a Platinum Guild merchant ship.
Such rare, lucrative targets were the kind of "big game" he lived for, and he vowed to seize any future opportunities like it.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
"Captain Dennis, bad news!"
Dennis, the greasy-haired captain, snapped his triangular eyes open, his expression darkening. Without hesitation, he drew his pistol and fired.
Bang!
The bullet whizzed past his crewman, embedding itself into the wall.
"Do that again, and the next one goes between your eyes," Dennis growled.
"Yes, Captain! I-I'm sorry!"
The trembling crewman steadied himself, stammering, "L-Lafitte! Lafitte is on the ship!"
Dennis scowled, irritation flaring as his hand twitched toward his blade.
But before he could reply, rhythmic, deliberate footsteps echoed from the hallway.
The crewman froze in terror as Lafitte appeared behind him.
"So soon…" the man muttered, his thoughts cut short as a thin red line appeared across his throat.
Shhhhht—
The severed head thudded to the ground, rolling forward and leaving a bloody trail.
Lafitte calmly tapped the lifeless body aside with his cane, a sinister smile curving across his crimson lips as he addressed the now-standing Dennis.
"Ah, Captain Dennis, infamous for your 36-million-berry bounty," Lafitte said with a mock bow.
Dennis' hand tightened around his blade. "It's you."
Glancing briefly at his crewman's headless corpse, Dennis' expression darkened further. "We've got no quarrel with each other."
"True," Lafitte admitted with a nod.
"Then what the hell are you doing here?" Dennis snapped.
Lafitte's smile widened. "Senseless slaughter is violence in its purest form. Isn't that what people like us excel at?"
"You…!"
Dennis drew his sword in a flash.
Five minutes later.
Lafitte sat atop Dennis' bloodied corpse, crimson pooling beneath him and staining his polished shoes.
"You'd agree with me, wouldn't you?" Lafitte mused to himself.
"Usopp…"
His gaze shimmered with intrigue as he stood, stepping over the lifeless body and the scattered trail of blood. He left the cabin without so much as a glance at the gleaming treasures on the table.
As he descended to the deck, time, which had seemed frozen during his visit, resumed its natural flow.
Dennis' bewildered crew finally snapped out of their stupor, panic spreading as news of their captain's death sparked a chaotic power struggle.
Three days later.
On calm seas, two Marine warships floated side by side.
From the crow's nest, a group of Marines scanned the horizon with binoculars.
"Captain Robby! Target spotted at nine o'clock—Redhorn Pirates in sight!"
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