Chapter 15: Awakening of Observation Haki
"Splat."
A bullet pierced flesh.
By the time Soren snapped back to his senses and turned around, Grandpa Doug had collapsed before his eyes.
A pool of crimson bloomed across the ground.
At that moment, all reason burned away to ashes.
Leaping forward, Soren lunged straight at the first mate, raised his blade, and sliced off the hand holding the gun, followed by a second stroke across the throat.
Yet Soren did not stop there.
One hand grabbed the man's hair to pull him up, while the other drove downward at his chest.
Third knife, fourth knife, fifth knife...
Warm liquid splattered across Soren's face and body. His eyes grew ever more crimson, his hands moving without a moment's pause.
Until, from the ground behind him, the old man let out a faint murmur.
Only then did he let go of the corpse, which now resembled a rag doll.
He knelt before the old man, leaning down with his ear close, listening as he spoke with reddened eyes.
"You cannot be a pirate... no, being a pirate..."
Soren nodded fiercely.
Fresh blood slowly trickled from the corners of the old man's mouth. He forced his eyes wide, trying to clearly see the youth before him, but his vision grew blurrier by the moment.
"Protect... protect Irene."
Fighting back his tears, Soren whispered close to Grandpa Doug's ear, "I will protect her, Grandpa. Don't worry."
"That's good... that's good."
The old man managed a labored smile. After a fit of coughing, he felt his body grow much lighter, and an overwhelming wave of drowsiness swept over him.
"Old man's tired. Time to rest."
"Soren, live well... along with Irene."
The noisy commotion of the surrounding world faded into silence for Soren. In his ears, there was only the sound of the old man's whispering words.
Until the voice grew fainter and fainter, and finally, everything went completely still.
Grandpa Doug closed his eyes.
Soren's body began to tremble. He clenched his teeth hard, digging his nails viciously into his own thighs.
"No time for grief. No time for sorrow. Irene is still waiting for me. I have to survive."
"Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths..."
He frantically warned himself inside, struggling to steady his emotions.
Standing up, he slowly walked back toward the crowd.
Zodan stared at him with an amused look.
"Looks like you and that old man shared a pretty unusual bond."
Soren kept his head down, his voice cold as he explained, "My dad died early, and my mom passed away last month. He was the village chief; he looked after me for a few months."
He didn't dare look up at Zodan now, afraid he wouldn't be able to hide the grief and hatred in his eyes.
"Fine, I don't care about your past. From now on, you're the first mate."
Zodan shot him a meaningful look and continued.
"The tasks the previous first mate was handling are yours now. I'll assign a few men to assist you. Move fast."
With that, he pointed out a few pirates to stay behind, took the boatswain and the first batch of packed goods, and headed toward the dock.
Soren stood in place, somewhat startled. He watched Zodan and the others turn and leave, froze for a moment, and then began giving orders to the remaining pirates.
"You, and you—you two put the stuff on the ground into this chest."
Soren put on a show of arranging things. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Zodan's group walk further away, and thought to himself:
"What is this scoundrel plotting? Isn't he worried I'll run off?"
"Whatever. I'll just buy time. The Navy should be here in half an hour at most."
He forced down his grief, struggling to keep himself from looking toward Grandpa Doug.
Ten-odd minutes later, Zodan, having just boarded the ship, watched the men unload their burdens and gave an order:
"Have everyone hauling goods on the island get off the ship. Give each of them a slash to the leg—make sure you don't kill them."
Wails erupted across the dock.
Once that was done, he ordered the ship to set sail immediately.
Hannibal, the vice captain, looked somewhat surprised upon hearing the order.
"That kid and a few of our men haven't come aboard yet. Are we just leaving them behind?"
"That kid isn't coming. And those crew members are just pawns I left behind to draw the Navy's attention."
Hannibal grew even more puzzled.
"Then why not kill the kid? His potential is terrifying; he looks barely over ten years old, yet he managed to kill Evil Bear. I'm afraid..."
Before he could finish, Zodan fixed him with an icy stare.
"You have a problem with my decision?"
Cold sweat instantly beaded on Hannibal's forehead. He shook his head and said, "No, Captain. I'm sure your decision has a deeper purpose."
Zodan glanced at him, said nothing more, and walked toward the bow.
The large ship hoisted its sails, slowly pulled away from the dock, steadily gathered speed, and vanished into the open sea.
Meanwhile, Soren, leading a few pirates carrying the packed goods, was slowly walking toward the dock.
Twenty minutes later, when they reached the dock, they found only a landscape of wailing residents—the docked ship was already long gone.
The pirates left behind to haul cargo panicked the moment they saw the vessel was missing.
Soren, however, seemed to understand.
"So he knew all along I wouldn't board the ship."
He looked at the panicked pirates on the dock.
"The ones left behind are simply discarded pawns. Probably meant to serve as bait for the Navy."
Yet there was one thing Soren still couldn't figure out: why didn't Zodan just kill him? For Zodan, it would have been effortless.
Instantly, his gaze turned fierce.
"If I can't figure it out, I won't bother. Once I catch him later, I'll hack off his limbs and ask him myself."
With that thought, Soren looked at the flustered pirates before him, his gaze growing colder by the second.
"Don't bother looking. It's obvious—we've been abandoned as bait."
The others turned to him as one, gathering around as if they had finally found a pillar of support.
"First mate, what do we do now?"
"First mate, let's hurry and find a boat to escape!"
"First mate..."
Soren looked at them and sneered inwardly.
"What do you do? I'm sending you to your deaths, of course."
A plan gradually took shape in Soren's mind.
He looked directly at the man who had just suggested finding a boat to flee, firing off questions in rapid succession:
"Find a boat to escape? Where's the boat? How do we escape? Where do we run? Even if we take a step back and find a boat, and know where to go—with just the few of us, can we outrun a warship?"
Silence fell over the group after the questions.
"Then are we just waiting to die?"
Seeing the men's emotions begin to spin out of control, Soren abruptly spoke up.
"Anyone who doesn't want to die, follow me. I know a path in the back mountains. We can go down to the sea from there and just miss the incoming Navy."
With that, he turned and sprinted toward the back mountains.
Watching Soren suddenly take off, the men had no time to think twice. Once the first person moved, the rest followed, running after him.
"Sure enough, everyone knows being caught by the Navy means certain death. Looks like not a single one of these bastards is innocent."
Soren glanced back over his shoulder. Picking up the pace, he led the pack into a long run.
Driven by the threat of death, not a single person dared to fall behind, and no one spoke a word—they simply buried their heads and chased the figure ahead of them.
They thought a path to survival lay ahead, little knowing that Soren was leading them straight to hell.