The Shamrock Pirates were loud, drunk, and full of themselves. The tavern, once a peaceful escape for the locals, had turned into their personal playground. Mugs slammed on wooden tables, drunken laughter filled the air, and the scent of spilled ale mixed with the sharp tang of sea salt.

At the center of it all sat Captain Declan "Red Fang" O'Malley, a hulking brute of a man with tangled red hair, a jagged scar running across his cheek, and a pair of wicked cutlasses strapped to his waist. His bounty sat at 25 million berries, making him one of the strongest pirates in the East Blue.

His right-hand man, Vance "Iron Grip" Malone, was smaller but no less dangerous. With an 8-million-berry bounty, he was a menace in his own right. The man's thick forearms were wrapped in metal bracers, rumored to be strong enough to crush skulls with a single squeeze.

The rest of the Shamrock Pirates—nineteen rowdy, undisciplined criminals—were making the most of their spoils, downing mugs of ale, harassing the terrified barmaids, and tossing gold coins across the bar as if they owned the place. The townspeople huddled in the corners, hoping not to be noticed.

Then, the tavern doors swung open.

Enter Dezmond "Dez" Lockridge

A lone figure strode in like he owned the place.

Boots caked in dust, twin revolvers hanging loose at his hips, and a long coat swaying with each slow, lazy step. His dark skin caught the dim candlelight, highlighting the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. A battered cowboy hat tilted low over his sharp, amber eyes, casting a shadow that only made his presence more ominous.

He didn't look rushed. Didn't look worried. He looked like a man who had already decided how this night was going to end.

Silence.

For a moment, the entire tavern stilled. The locals held their breath. The pirates all turned, blinking through their drunken haze, trying to process whether this cocky bastard had walked into the wrong bar... or just had a death wish.

Dez let the silence stretch. He took his time. Sauntered up to the bar.

He reached into his coat—every pirate at the table tensed, hands drifting to their weapons—and pulled out... a flask.

With a flick of his wrist, he popped it open, took a slow swig, and exhaled, savoring the taste.

Then, without looking at the bartender, he spoke.

"Whiskey. No ice. Hell, don't even need a glass. Just hand over the damn bottle."

The bartender—a wiry old man with shaking hands—froze in place. His wide, terrified eyes darted to Captain Declan, whose face twisted into a scowl.

The Banter Begins

"Oi," Declan rumbled, standing from his chair, his massive frame towering over the room. "You got a death wish, stranger?"

Dez took another sip from his flask, finally turning to look at the pirate crew. His eyes scanned them lazily, as if they weren't worth the effort.

"Maybe." Dez smirked. "Depends. You got a problem with me drinkin'?"

Declan narrowed his eyes. "Aye. 'Cause this is my bar tonight. And I don't take kindly to uninvited guests."

Dez let out a slow, amused chuckle. "Funny. Y'see, I was just thinkin' the same thing… 'Cept, I don't take kindly to dead men drinkin' up all the booze."

The pirates bristled. Hands went to weapons. The tension was thick.

Vance cracked his knuckles, his metal bracers gleaming in the light. "You talk big for a man walkin' into a lion's den alone, cowboy."

Dez tilted his head, then tapped his fingers against the handle of one of his revolvers.

"Ain't alone," he drawled. "Got two friends right here."

He flipped one revolver from its holster, spinning it effortlessly before clicking it back into place. The movement was smooth, practiced, effortless. A gunslinger's flex.

"Names?" Declan sneered.

Dez grinned. "This one's called 'Make My Day.' The other? 'You're Already Dead.'"

A beat of silence. Then, one of the pirates burst out laughing. "This guy's a damn fool!"

More laughter followed. The crew relaxed, thinking this was just some crazy drunk who didn't know what he was walking into.

Then, Dez set his bounty poster on the bar.

It was worn, creased, but clear as day.

WANTED – DEAD OR ALIVE

DECLAN "RED FANG" O'MALLEY

Bounty: 25,000,000 Berries

The laughter died.

Dez tapped the poster with a lazy finger and smirked. "Now, here's the part where y'all start prayin'."

Scene Cut – The First Shot Fires

Before anyone could react—

BANG!

The first shot rang out, lightning-quick. The room flashed white for a split second as the bullet ricocheted off the brass chandelier, spun through the air, and shattered the bottle in Declan's hand.

Ale splattered everywhere.

The room erupted into chaos.

Dez cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and exhaled.

"Well now…" He grinned as he drew both guns in a single smooth motion.

"Let's dance."

BANG!

The first shot wasn't meant to kill. Just to send a message.

The bottle in Declan's hand exploded into glass shards, alcohol spraying across his chest. For a moment nobody moved. Then-

Chaos.

The SHamrock Pirates erupted from their seats, weapons drawn. Cutlasses flashed/ Pistols cocked. The tavern, already dim, was alive with the glint of steel and the heavy scent of gunpowder and sweat.

But Dez? He was already moving

A pirate lunged at him, a stocky brute with a serrated dagger.

BANG!

Dez curved the bullet mid-air, and the man's forehead snapped backward. Blood and bone splattered the wooden wall behind him, his lifeless body crashing into a table. 

The tavern exploded into motion.

Two more came at Dez, one swinging a bottle, the other aiming a pistol.

 He sidestepped the first attack, kicked a chair into the gunman's knee, and in the same motion

BANG! BANG!

One bullet tore through the first man's throat, a wet gurgle escaping as he collapsed. The second shot snapped the gunman's head sideways, blowing a chunk out of his skull.

Blood splattered the bar.

Dez spun, his coat whipped behind him as another pirate charged with a cutlass.

Dez parried the sword with his left revolver, the steel scraping against the barrel. With his right gun, he shoved the muzzle under the man's chin

BANG!

Skull fragments and brain matter sprayed the ceiling, the pirate's body twitching before slumping on the floor.

The air reeked of blood and gunpowder.

More pirates rushed him.

Dez kicked off a table and flipped backward as he emptied the chambers mid-air.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A bullet tore through a pirate's eye socket. Another shattered a kneecap before Dez put a final round through the screening man's skull.

A third ricocheted off the chandelier, striking a pirate who thought he was safe behind cover.

Bodies dropped. Blood pooled beneath them.

A pirate, desperate, swung an axe.

Dez ducked under the arc, using his momentum to slide across the bar top. He grabbed a whiskey bottle, smashed it over the man's head, then-

BANG!

Shot him in the chest at point-blank range. The body flew backward, crashing into barrels.

More shots whizzed past Dez, but he was too fast, too unpredictable.

He vaulted over tables, kicked off walls, and spun between shots like a phantom. Every bullet fired found its mark.

One pirate's jaw exploded from a well-placed shot. Another lost half his head as Dez curved the bullet around a beam. One unfortunate soul took a shot to the stomach- Dez then walked up and put a second bullet between his eyes.

The Shamrock Pirates were falling like flies.

Through the carnage, Vance Malone was watching, his face twisted in rage. "You slippery bastard!" he roared, cracking his metal-wrapped fists together.

Dez turned to face him, twirling his guns casually.

"Relax, mate. You'll get your turn."

Vance charged, fists swinging.

Dez dodged left, his coat billowing as a metal-clad ouch grazed past. The sheer force splintered the wooden bar top, sending shards flying.

BANG!

Dez fired only for the bullet to ping off Vance's metal bracers. The bounty hunter's eyebrows quirked. "Well now, that's new"

Vance grinned savagely." Ain't gonna be that easy, gunslinger."

Vance threw a wild punch, and Dez weaved around it, spinning low and kicking off the ground. He used the momentum to slam both pistols into Vance's ribs.

CRACK.

Vance grunted but tanked the hit and swung again. Dez flipped back too late. A metal-clad fist clipped his side, sending him skidding across the blood-slick floor. Vance lunged, trying to crush Dez's skull in his grip.

BANG!

Dez shot him in the shoulder. The force made Vance stagger, but it wasn't enough to stop him. So Dez got creative. He rolled and activated his black revolver Ebony's ability unlike Ivory which was just a really good pistol Ebony was a rarity a weapon that ate a devil fruit.

With a flick of the wrist, he spun the chamber, and one of the bullets loaded began to glow.

BANG!

The moment the bullet hit, Vance's entire body convulsed. His muscles locked up, nerves seizing, the Paralysis Shot had done its job.

Dez stood, dusted off his coat." Damn shame. You talk big, but you drop just like the rest."

He walked up, pressed the gun against Vance's temple, and-

BANG!

Blood, bone, and brain matter splattered across the tavern floor.

Vance Malone, 8 million berry bounty, was dead.

As Dez turned a cutlass came screaming towards his neck. He barely dodged, a few strands of hair falling loose. Captain Declan O'Malley stood before him, fury burning in his eyes.

"Ye really think ye can waltz in here and take ME down, bot?!"

Dez licked his lips, spun fresh bullets into the chamber, and smirked.

"Well, Captain...that's the plan."

(Ebony)

(Ivory)

(Dez)