Conflict #181

Amidst the bustling streets of Jaya, Kieran moved with a distinct blend of purpose and discretion. His experienced eyes swept over the surroundings, constantly scanning for potential dangers or opportunities. The atmosphere was alive with the sounds of hawkers peddling their wares and the chatter of passing pedestrians. While the vibrant scene could easily captivate anyone, Kieran remained focused on his task.

His steps were measured and deliberate, a calculated dance through the crowd as he maintained a low profile. His attire was nondescript, designed to blend seamlessly with the thronging masses. His keen observation led him to a growing commotion nearby, a gathering of people that piqued his interest. Drawn by his curiosity and his underlying mission to gather information, Kieran headed toward the source of the ruckus.

With a practiced ease, he navigated through the sea of bodies until he reached the heart of the gathering. His gaze zeroed in on an unusual sight: a young man with vibrant red, spiky hair straddling another figure on the ground. The scene was one of chaos, with bodies strewn around, a testament to the skirmish that had unfolded. Nearby, a second young man stood watch, his features obscured by a metallic mask.

The crimson-haired assailant unleashed a flurry of punches onto the downed man, his anger palpable in each strike. Kieran's eyes narrowed as he observed the situation, his instincts on high alert. He quickly assessed the dynamics at play – the clear aggressor and his companion's vigilant stance.

Though he wasn't one to meddle in local disputes, his role as a scout and protector compelled him to gather as much information as possible. With the crowd's attention focused on the spectacle, Kieran leaned in, catching snippets of conversation and whispers that might offer clues to the unfolding drama.

Amid the gathering crowd, a savage grin split the features of the young man with fiery red hair – Eustass Kid. His eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and sadistic satisfaction as he rained blows upon the helpless figure beneath him.

Each punch seemed to carry an underlying demand, a demand for a specific phrase. "Let me hear you say it again!" Kid's voice lashed out, tinged with both fury and triumph. He halted his barrage momentarily, his breathing heavy with exertion. "Let me hear you say you're in charge of this island again?!"

The man on the ground, his body bruised and battered, could barely muster any response. His feeble attempts to speak only seemed to fuel Kid's rage further. With an almost primal intensity, Kid resumed the onslaught, his fists acting as messengers of his wrath. His desire to make a point was evident, to assert his dominance through sheer violence.

Beside Kid, a masked figure known as Killer stood with an air of resignation. The metallic mask obscured his expression, but his posture spoke volumes of his weariness. He glanced at Kid, his voice carrying an undertone of exasperation. "He's already dead, you idiot..."

Kid's fury, however, remained undiminished. He turned his fiery gaze towards Killer, a prominent vein bulging on his forehead. The scornful retort from his friend seemed to fuel his ire even more. "I already know that, you imbecile! I'm trying to make an example, and you just made me look like an idiot!"

Behind his metal mask, Killer's eyes remained steady, his voice tinged with a dry sarcasm. "You are an idiot, captain..."

Kid's grip on the battered man loosened as he released his frustrations with a growl. The scene had morphed from a display of dominance to an almost comical exchange between the two companions. Kid lunged at Killer, his voice raised in a mix of anger and exasperation. "Why you?!" His hands caught Killer's collar, and he began shaking his friend with a fervor that matched his earlier assault on the fallen man.

Among the spectators, Kieran couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief. The absurdity of the situation left him questioning why he seemed to cross paths with idiots who thrived on chaos wherever he went. He had already turned to leave, a sigh escaping his lips, when a familiar voice pierced the air, freezing him in his tracks.

Amid the growing spectacle, a voice infused with both mirth and vanity rang out, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Oh! How wonderful, a gathered crowd—here to gaze upon my handsome face, no doubt!" The exclamation, laced with unapologetic confidence, acted as a magnet, causing every eye to turn toward its source. The attention shifted from the chaotic scene of Kid and Killer to the new arrival, a man whose blonde hair seemed to catch the sunlight.

This man, none other than Duval, entered the unfolding drama with a boundless energy, his steps light and carefree. With a flourish that could rival any performer, he announced his presence. "Don't be shy now! Gaze upon my, Duval's handsome face while you can!" His words held an air of flamboyance, and he struck a dramatic pose in the center of the crowd, his confidence unwavering even in the face of the puzzled stares and the hushed murmurs that swirled around him.

While most of the crowd appeared taken aback or entertained by Duval's antics, Kid proved to be an exception. His brash nature was unimpressed by the newcomer's charisma. Kid's irritation was palpable as he turned to face Duval and issued a not-so-subtle threat. "Hey, shit-face, clear off before I rearrange your face!"

Duval, however, remained unphased by the aggressive tone. He wagged his finger at Kid in a scolding manner, his grin unwavering. "No, no, no," Duval retorted with playful amusement. "It's 'handsome-face' Duval, not 'shit-face'." His grin widened, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. "Besides," he continued, his tone light and cheeky, "it has already been rearranged! To absolute perfection, I might add!"

In the midst of the clash between Kid's hostility and Duval's unabashed charm, Kieran found himself once again at the crossroads of unpredictable chaos. He watched the exchange unfold, a bemused expression on his face.

As the banter between Duval and Kid escalated, it became increasingly evident to Kieran that Kid's impatience might soon manifest into physical violence. The tension hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the carefree surroundings of Jaya. Kieran stood on the fringe of the gathering, quietly observing the exchange unfold before him. Duval's flamboyant demeanor seemed to irk Kid, and Kieran wondered if a brawl was inevitable.

A part of him was tempted to walk away, to let the situation between the two men play out without his intervention. Kieran had never held Duval in particularly high regard, often finding his narcissistic displays more obnoxious than endearing.

His mind danced with thoughts of Duval's potential defeat at the hands of these novice pirates. If Duval couldn't even hold his own against rookies fresh into the Grand Line, then perhaps he wasn't a crewmate worth keeping in the first place.

To Kieran, it seemed like a win-win scenario. If Kid were to take down Duval, Kieran would be rid of a persistent annoyance. If, on the other hand, Duval managed to stand his ground, Kieran would never again have to question his capability.

His resolve was firm, and with the intention of distancing himself from the brewing confrontation, Kieran took a step to leave the scene. Yet, his stride faltered, and he hesitated. Cedric's ever present grin, a vivid memory etched in his mind, surged to the forefront of his thoughts.

He could practically hear Cedric's voice in his head, envisioning his captain's stern yet strangely wise expression. Kieran knew that Cedric wouldn't endorse such a callous approach to the situation.

For all his quirks, Cedric was unwavering in his belief in the worth of his crew. Unlike Kieran, Cedric didn't value people based on their usefulness or the benefits that could be attained from having them around.

Cedric's approach was much simpler. If he could get along with someone, he would gladly allow them to join the crew and have them around, or so Kieran gleamed from Cedric's behavior. The captain, with all his being, believed he could rely on his strength to fight every battle and win without relying on anyone else, hence his willing acceptance of crewmates who might seem less useful than others.

An internal struggle played out on Kieran's face, his expression shifting from resolute detachment to conflicted uncertainty. While part of him yearned to walk away and let events unfold, he couldn't ignore the echoing influence of his captain's values. With a reluctant sigh, Kieran realized that Cedric would expect better of him.