Chapter 9 Marco

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While Larson and Whitebeard were enjoying their drinks, a gunshot suddenly rang out from outside.

Then came the sound of a woman screaming in fear, and the tavern instantly fell silent as everyone turned to look outside.

Whitebeard frowned and said, "What happened?"

He hated being interrupted while drinking.

Larson stood up and said, "I'll go out and take a look."

Stepping outside, he noticed that the people on the street were staring in one direction, their faces filled with fear.

In that direction, a man lay on the ground, grimacing in pain, blood pooling around him. Not far from him, another man brandished a pistol, sneering at the injured man.

As everyone eyed him cautiously, the man with the pistol taunted, "You see for yourselves that I am a pirate. If you dare to ask me for money, this will be your fate!"

The crowd was seething with anger but dared not approach due to the man's gun.

Seeing their fear and inaction, the pirate grew bolder, saying, "Step aside! If anyone tries to stop me, I'll shoot!"

The crowd exchanged glances, and although they were filled with rage, fear kept them frozen in place. The pirate fired another shot into the sky, causing everyone to jump and expressions of terror to paint their faces, prompting several bystanders to back away.

"Pathetic, a bunch of cowards."

Seeing the fear he inspired, the pirate wore an arrogant grin.

He was about to advance when a childish voice rang out from behind him.

"Stop!"

While everyone chose to retreat in fear of the gunman, one figure finally stepped forward.

The pirate was momentarily confused, but when he turned to see who had spoken, laughter escaped him.

The one who shouted to stop was a child with yellow hair.

"Marco, get back! He has a gun!" came a frantic shout from the crowd.

"....."

A chorus of murmurs and gasps erupted around them.

The pirate approached the young boy, pointing the gun directly at his head. "Little guy, what did you just say?"

The scene fell into tense silence. Some clenched their fists in anticipation, but no one dared to intervene.

Young Marco stared defiantly at the pirate. "Stop!"

"Speak up; I didn't hear you."

"Stop!" Marco repeated firmly.

"Boom!"

Another gunshot rang out, deafening everyone present.

As the sound echoed, Marco instinctively closed his eyes, bracing for the worst. But after a few heart-stopping moments, he felt no pain. Slowly opening his eyes, he was astonished by the sight before him.

A not-so-tall but extremely formidable figure stood protectively in front of him, surrounded by blue armor.

When Marco glanced at the once-arrogant pirate, he saw sheer terror written on his face.

"Clap!"

The sound of something heavy falling echoed across the street.

Marco recognized at a glance that it was the pirate's twisted pistol, now rendered useless.

"Pirate?"

A playful chuckle resonated in the air.

The voice continued, infused with a teasing tone, "Isn't this a coincidence? I'm also a pirate! I want your life without needing to pay, right?"

At that moment, the pirate's horror was palpable. Having just witnessed the bullets being deflected by this unexpected arrival, he saw his weapon crushed effortlessly within the grasp of this figure.

Now stripped of courage, he appeared a far cry from the defiant demeanor he had just exhibited.

"Please, forgive me! I was just being impulsive..."

"Are you kidding me?" Larson regarded him calmly. "I'm a pirate; I don't need a reason to kill."

Without hesitation, the naginata came crashing down from above. Larson seized it and delivered a swift, horizontal slash!

The pirate's frightened expression froze as his head sailed through the air, his body chuming lifelessly as he realized who he had crossed.

His head rolled for several meters down the street.

An eerie silence enveloped the scene for a mere moment before it burst into cheers.

Everyone looked at Larson with gratitude; in their eyes, he was now the great hero who had just freed them from the pirate's oppression.

Larson raised an eyebrow at Whitebeard, who stood at the tavern's entrance, then walked towards him with the naginata still in hand.

"Wait!"

As Larson approached Whitebeard, a familiar voice echoed from behind him.

Turning, he noticed Marco's eyes gleaming with admiration. The boy's gaze was fixed on Larson with excitement, as if having just witnessed something extraordinary.

"Excuse me, are you a pirate?" young Marco asked, his voice trembling with eagerness.

"They're pirates, and they're murderous ones," Larson replied.

Marco seemed taken aback, his face falling. He shrank back and hesitantly asked, "Can I join your pirate crew?"

"Join us? You should probably consult my captain about that, right? Captain?"

Glancing playfully at Whitebeard, Larson casually tossed the naginata to him. "Captain, I'll leave this one to you. I'm off to find a sword."

Without waiting for a response, Larson turned and walked away.

His encounter with Marco had been purely coincidental. The original story didn't specify when Marco had boarded, merely stating he was the first person to do so. Larson hadn't anticipated running into him here.

Still, Larson had faith that the Marco he remembered, the captain of the Whitebeard Pirates' First Team in the original tale, demonstrated bravery, as he had just shown when he stood up to the pirate.

Whitebeard took note of this and became intrigued by Marco's presence.

As for whether Marco could actually join, Larson felt it would turn out alright. After all, he knew Marco wouldn't back down easily in the face of danger.

After some searching, Larson finally found a shop where he could buy swords.

Upon entering, he was greeted by an elderly man with a beard, who appeared to be the shop owner.

"Welcome! What kind of sword are you looking for?" the old man inquired.

Larson replied, "I want the best sword you have here."

"Okay, please wait a moment."

Soon, the shopkeeper returned with a sword.

"This is the finest blade in my shop."

As Larson took the sword in his hand, disappointment washed over him. It was an ordinary sword, nothing extraordinary—certainly not the supreme sword he had hoped to find.

But given the nature of his quest, it was clear that such renowned weapons wouldn't be available in just any shop.

"That'll do."

For now, Larson had no better option. He would have to make do and search for a superior sword down the line.

After the purchase and settling the payment, Larson made his way back to the tavern.

Upon entering, he noticed that the town had returned to a semblance of peace. The pirate's body had been removed, and the injured man was likely receiving medical assistance.

As he returned to the tavern, he felt the eyes of everyone shift toward him.

Most of the patrons had been present during the previous confrontation, and they immediately recognized Larson as the hero who had vanquished the pirate menace.

Larson felt uncomfortable under their gaze. He soon spotted Whitebeard waving at him from a corner and quickly made his way over.

"Larson, this is our new crew member—my son, Marco!"

Before Larson could take a seat, Whitebeard excitedly introduced the young boy.

Larson was taken aback. Whitebeard was remarkably powerful; how could his son be standing here so soon?

Marco grinned and said, "Uncle Larson, I'm going to be a member of the Whitebeard Pirates from now on. Please take care of me!"

While Larson was surprised by Whitebeard's swift acceptance of Marco, he managed to display a smile. "Kid, as the first member of the Whitebeard Pirates, you should pay for this meal."

Marco was taken aback. "Huh? How can the new guy pay for a meal right from the start?"

Larson responded with a laugh, "Once you pay for the drink, you will have officially joined as the captain of the first team of the Whitebeard Pirates. The captain shouldn't have to foot the bill; that's my role as vice-captain!"

Marco's eyes brightened with excitement. "Really?"

"A man means what he says!"

"Okay, okay, I'll pay, but don't you dare make me spend too much!"

With a cheerful expression, Larson looked at his wallet, ready to cover the cost.

"Bring in ten more barrels of ale!" he called out, prompting a wave of laughter.

Marco could only watch, dumbfounded, as he thought of his own pocket money, which was quickly vanishing.

But as he considered the prospect of becoming part of the Whitebeard Pirates, he felt that it was worth every Berry spent.

After all, once the Whitebeard Pirates ascended to be the rulers of the sea, nobody would believe that Marco's position as captain of the first team had literally been bought with the cost of a meal.

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