Chapter 12: The Jackal Attack
After Garp's departure, Soren's life returned to its usual routine.
Eating, running, eating, shadow-boxing, eating, basic training, eating, late-night snack.
Five meals a day, a truly fulfilling life.
The weather today was rather gloomy, with heavy, dark clouds pressing down low.
On the roaring sea, whipped by fierce winds and rolling waves, an old, large sailing ship anchored not far from the island.
At the bow of the ship, a scrawny man with a rat-like face was making his report.
"Captain, I've already scouted out the situation on this island."
Standing before him was a massively built man.
Ent Zodan, captain of the Jackal Pirates, with a bounty of 12 million Beli. Cruel and cunning, skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and suspected of possessing Devil Fruit powers.
Every member of the pirate crew he led was a vicious scoundrel.
To join his crew, the entry requirement was simple: one only had to kill ten people with their own hands.
Furthermore, their targets for plunder were exclusively islands without Navy presence or noble residents.
In other words, they only preyed on the weak, which was why they had succeeded so many times and accumulated endless heinous crimes.
"Speak."
Without turning around, Zodan continued to gaze at the rolling ocean waves.
"There are only a few hundred residents on this island, with no Navy stationed here and no nobles living among them."
"However, the island has only one dock, and that dock features a lookout tower. If a pirate ship approaches, it will sound the alarm."
"Boats cannot make landfall anywhere else on the island, so the only place we can dock is the pier."
Sensing a sudden chill emanating from the captain, the man hurriedly explained.
"But Captain, rest assured, I've checked it out. The lookout tower is manned in shifts, and tonight just happens to be a drunkard's turn on watch."
..."
After listening to his crewmate, Zodan suddenly chuckled, turned around, and looked down at him.
"Good. If everything goes as smoothly as you say during this landing, then when we return from this raid, you'll be the ship's second-in-command."
The man raised his head to look at Zodan, his eyes burning with fanaticism.
"Captain, rest assured, I will not let you down."
Without looking at him again, Zodan strode to the center of the deck, pointed at the distant island, and shouted loudly.
"Lads, do you see that island?"
"Tonight, it belongs to us. When the time comes, indulge your desires to the fullest: money, women, blood, death."
"Everything will be ours to command."
With that, he pointed randomly at a few men on the deck and continued.
"You, you, you, and you—all of you will be kings of that island tonight."
"We are jackals. Pillage, burn, slaughter—that is our way of survival."
"So, look forward to it! Tonight's feast!"
Instantly, blood-curdling howls echoed across the ship as a vessel full of demons set sail.
They lowered their pirate flag and hoisted the colors of a merchant ship.
"The captain is so clever. This trick works every single time."
"Quit chattering and get to work! If the vice-captain comes back and sees these aren't hung yet, we'll all be feeding the sharks."
"Feeding the sharks wouldn't be so bad. What I'm afraid of is..."
Hearing those words, the others shuddered with a sudden chill.
If the captain was a cruel and cunning demon, the vice-captain was a depraved cannibal.
Xist Hannibal, vice-captain of the Jackal Pirates, with a bounty of 9.6 million Beli. An ogre who excelled in swordsmanship.
The ship slowly approached the pier. Seeing that it was a merchant vessel, the man on watch in the lookout tower allowed them to dock without interference.
Once the ship was securely moored, a single figure descended from it—none other than the man who had scouted the island earlier.
He walked alone to the base of the lookout tower and shouted up to the man above.
"We're a merchant ship heading to Banana Island to pick up bananas. The waves are going to be huge today, and since we're currently empty, we'll easily capsize if we hit heavy seas."
With that, the man raised something in his hand and popped open the lid.
"This is our island's specialty, monkey wine, a gift for you. None of us will disembark; we just hope to rest in your island's harbor for the night. Is that alright?"
The drunkard on guard greedily inhaled the aroma of the wine drifting up to him, thinking to himself:
"It's just for one night anyway, and none of them are coming ashore. No problem."
With that, he replied, "Fine, no problem. Just leave the wine on the ground, and remember to tell your crewmen not to come ashore."
"Thank you, thank you! We definitely won't come down."
With that, the man placed the jar of wine on the ground, turned around, and smiled coldly.
Watching the man walk away, the drunkard eagerly ran downstairs, scooped up the wine jar from the ground, and looked at it with rapturous intoxication.
"It smells so good."
He dipped a finger into it and tasted it.
"Wonderful wine. I'll have another sweet dream tonight."
Clutching the jar, he hummed a little tune as he headed back upstairs.
Perhaps they had lived in peace for too long—the islanders might have had some sense of vigilance, but truly very little.
Night fell, and the already dim, oppressive sky grew pitch black.
A scrawny figure slipped off the ship. The howling wind muffled the sound of his light footsteps as he crept toward the tower.
He pressed his ear against the crack of the door, only for it to creak open at the slightest touch.
Startled for a moment, he darted aside and hid, but after a moment, nothing happened.
He glanced inside to find an empty staircase, with the sound of snoring drifting down from the top of the tower.
The man instantly breathed a sigh of relief, then quickly climbed to the top.
Glancing around, he saw the drunkard fast asleep on a straw mat, with a telescope and a box resting on the table beside him.
Opening the box, he found a Den Den Mushi resting inside.
The man smiled—the plan was proceeding swimmingly.
Closing the box, he drew a dagger from his waist and turned toward the sleeping drunkard on the floor.
Approaching the man, he squatted down and slowly drew the blade toward his throat.
"You're getting off easy, dying in your sleep. I just wonder if the people on this island will hate you."
"They probably won't have the chance. After all, they're all going to die."
With that, a fierce look flashed in his eyes as he swiftly slashed the blade across the guard's throat, sending a fountain of blood spraying into the air.
The drunkard was dead.
The man picked up the box containing the Den Den Mushi and returned to the ship. He knelt before the captain in fanatical devotion, holding the box high with both hands.
"Captain, it's done. The tower guard has been killed, and the only Den Den Mushi capable of contacting the Navy has been retrieved."
Captain Zodan opened the box before him and took out the Den Den Mushi.
"Well done."
"Starting today, you are the ship's second-in-command."
Without even glancing at the man frantically kowtowing and expressing his gratitude on the deck, Zodan turned and walked to the bow.
Facing the beasts of his crew who were all watching him, he shouted loudly.
"Lads! The feast begins. Enjoy yourselves to the fullest."
With that, the hand holding the Den Den Mushi rose high into the air and instantly crushed it to pieces.