Episode 49 - Crimson Tide 2



"H-hold on! Hey! Don't ignore me—!"
Trying to make sense of the situation, she finally stepped forward toward Kaftin with her heels clicking on the deck.
They weren't close — but that wasn't a reason to stand by and watch someone she knew get treated like this.
She grabbed Kaftin's arm —
Oh — he's solid—?!
The muscle was far more dense than she had expected, and she flinched. But she immediately pulled hard to stop him from forcing Barnacle's head down toward the severed head.
"S-stop it! At least tell me what's going on here—?!"
"...Hey. Barnacle."
Kaftin, who had been completely ignoring her, finally opened his mouth.
But it was nothing like what she was hoping for.
"Wh — wh—?!"
"Barnacle. Tell this woman to leave. Now. She's in the way."
"Why are you telling me to do that—?!"
"Now. Tell her to go. Or I'll pull your teeth out one by one."
"......?!"
What kind of logic was this?
If he found her that irritating, he could say it himself — why make someone else do it on his behalf? That was what she couldn't figure out.
"You could just... say it directly..."
"I don't want to. So you do it."
"What—?!"
"Now."
The woman captain listening from the side — Crimson Tide — felt her brow furrow.
She had seen enough. This little brat, in this sea of all places, daring to ignore someone of her standing — someone in the prime of her career, known across these waters —
She drew the flintlock pistol hidden in her coat and leveled it at the back of Kaftin's head.
"Hey. Kid. I don't know who you are or where you came from — but if you keep disrespecting me—"
"H-hey! Stop it! Tide! This one is—!"
The click of the hammer being pulled back made Kaftin pause. He slowly raised the severed head so she could see whose it was.
"Who do you think this is?"
"Hm...?"
"Stop! Tide! Just go back! This monster — the head he's holding — that's Bizeth the Phantom Fang Lord's head!"
"......!!!"
Too unbelievable to process immediately.
Bizeth the Phantom Fang Lord? The Sword Master — one of the Four Gang Lords who ruled the underworld?
She wouldn't believe it from this brat — but her old pirate associate Barnacle was white as a sheet and screaming, which meant it couldn't be a lie.
"W-wait — what exactly happened here?"
"Nothing to do with you. Go back."
"No! I'm not going anywhere — at minimum, that Barnacle you're holding happens to be a friend of mine. I'd appreciate it if you let him go."
Crimson Tide declared herself firmly involved in the situation.
But to Kaftin, that amounted to a declaration of hostility.
"Is that so. Well then — the answer is simple."
"What?"
"...You kiss it. The head. Bizeth."
"...Are you joking?"
"If you'd rather not, I'll have your crew line up and do it for you instead."
She let out a disbelieving laugh at the absurd announcement — and Barnacle was shaking his head as vigorously as he could manage.
These lunatics were planning to slaughter the entire port on the grounds of leaving no witnesses. Getting entangled with people like this could only end badly.
One wrong step and they could easily arrive at — oh, so you're all pirates, therefore you must be allies, so everyone dies — and it wouldn't even be strange.
"Comedy has its limits. My crew and I — underestimate us and you'll regret—"
Crunch.
Kaftin bit down on the pistol barrel without warning, and Tide pulled the trigger out of reflex.
The shot rang out cleanly —
"Wh-what—?!"
"Gyaaah—?!"
— but he had crushed the barrel mid-length with his teeth just before the shot fired, jamming the round.
The barrel exploded from the breach, and she stumbled back, grimacing at the faint burn stinging her hand.
"Wh-what are you?!"
"What does it matter what I am? You're about to die."
"......!"
He tossed Bizeth's head over to Maengseol to hold for a moment, then cracked his knuckles and smiled — clearly ready to get down to business.
"Maengseol. Don't stop me this time."
"...If she chose to involve herself — that's her business. But if she disarms and surrenders, extending some clemency wouldn't be unreasonable."
"Ha. Not for free. Once someone comes at me — they either bleed, or they offer me something equivalent."
She had waded into something terrible, and she knew it — but it was too late.
"Now then—"
"......?!"
Kaftin drove his heel down onto both of Barnacle's knees at once, snapping the joints and sending a scream out of him.
"You — what are you doing?! He was already—!"
"Hm. He's my prey. If he runs off later, it becomes inconvenient."
"AAAARGH! It hurts — it hurts—! Th-the tiger gentleman over there! Please, do something! Please!"
"......"
He was desperately appealing to Maengseol, who at least seemed to have a functioning sense of reason — but Maengseol sat down cross-legged beside Gabelth with cold composure.
"Is this really how this ends—?! The way things are going, even the crew on the ship next to us—!"
"This is partly your responsibility as well. Night Fist Lord."
"What—?!"
"If twenty years ago you hadn't driven Vesren out the way you did — that monster, Kaftin, would never have been raised by him, and might never have emerged into the world on the pretext of avenging him."
"...! Are you saying this is all our fault?!"
"Yes. So watch carefully. That — is the hatred your actions cultivated, come to fruition."
"......!"
Gabelth stared at Maengseol as he closed his eyes and settled into meditation — then shook his head with an expression of pure exhaustion.
They had simply been pursuing wealth and power. Was it really fair that this was where it ended?
Meanwhile.
The woman captain, backing away under the pressure of Kaftin's presence, made a snap decision and sprinted back to her own ship, kicking the gangplank loose behind her.
"Everyone — battle stations, now! Move!"
"Wh-what's happening, Captain?"
"Damn it all! I've gotten into a fight with some monster of a brat who just took the Phantom Fang Lord Bizeth's head! Combat positions, now!"
"What?!"
The order was so incomprehensible that her crew stood frozen for a moment.
In that moment, Kaftin made a light jump and landed hard on her ship's deck.
The ship lurched with a sound like something heavy dropping on it — like an anvil falling.
"Wh-whoah?! What was that?!"
"Th-that guy — what is he carrying on him—?!"
"No... it's not what he's carrying—!"
She understood it in an instant.
That weight wasn't coming from whatever was hidden beneath the robe. She had grabbed his forearm a moment ago. She knew.
There was nothing underneath it. He was wearing the robe over bare skin.
That weight was just him.
"Damn it—! You lot — get the cannons up to the main deck now!"
"C-cannons, Captain?"
"Yes, you idiots! That lunatic took a Sword Master's head and then ate a pistol with his teeth!"
"......!"
She threw her ruined pistol onto the deck as proof, and every face in the crew went white.
They swallowed hard and scattered, racing below deck to haul the gun carriages up from the gun deck to the main deck.
What remained on deck was her and twelve fighters serving as her personal guard.
"Come on then! I'll dye the waves red with your blood—!"
"You idiot — don't provoke him carelessly!"
Before the words were out, Kaftin was already moving at the fighter who had spoken.
He caught the cutlass being swung at him with one hand, bare.
"Wh-what—?!"
"You're actually calling this a sword?"
"Insolent — I'll cut that hand off—!"
She saw it.
Just for an instant — something glinting at the tip of Kaftin's fingers.
He drew it lightly across the fighter's abdomen — a single casual stroke — then went right back to the grip contest with the cutlass as though nothing had happened.
Three seconds later.
"...Huh—?!"
Blood sprayed from the fighter's abdomen like a burst pipe — and then the stomach split open, viscera beginning to spill out.
"Kgh—?!"
The fighter crumpled. Kaftin caught the falling cutlass, turned it over briefly to inspect it, and clicked his tongue.
"This can't even cut bone, you know."
He bent the blade with his bare hands — folding it like warm taffy — and then began methodically stuffing the crumpled blade into the split-open stomach of the fighter bleeding out below him.
"Wh-what is wrong with you?!"
"Kill him — kill him right now—!"
Unlike the fighters losing their minds around her, the woman captain felt the blood draining from her face, going cold.
She had seen plenty of pirates with a reputation for brutality in her time. None of them had been like this.
That completely blank, stonework expression — carefully, methodically forcing a crumpled cutlass into an open stomach.
On either side of him, other fighters were cutting into him. His body was taking wounds. He didn't flinch. He just kept going, with complete focus and deliberate care.
"W-wait a moment — you people—"
"Bothersome. Could you take turns? I just had a full round with the Phantom Fang Lord and I'm a little tired."
"......?!"
"Keep interrupting me and this might not end with a clean death."
Those murky, dark eyes — gleaming like something savoring the anticipation of a meal —
Were fixed directly on her.
"......!"
"If possible, something soft is preferable to something tough. In terms of meat."
The chill that ran up her spine made up her mind for her instantly.
She could not fight this thing.
"Everyone — weapons down — NOW—!"
"What?!"
"What do you—?"
"......"
While they were still processing the order, Kaftin's hand closed around the throat of one of the fighters.
He began crushing it with raw force — the sound of something cracking — and the man was dying — and she threw her own saber onto the deck with tears in her eyes.
"NOW! Drop everything — if we keep this up we're all dead, you idiots!"
"B-but — Captain! Our crewmates just—?!"
"You moron! If only those two end up dead and the rest of us survive, that's a good outcome! Drop your weapons and get on the floor! NOW—!"
Her judgment was probably right.
Everyone except her dropped their weapons and threw themselves flat on the deck — and Kaftin, who had just finished strangling the second fighter and was looking for the third, stopped.
"...What is this?"
"......"
He looked down for a moment at the crew prostrate on the deck, then snorted and reached toward them.
Too late for that now.
They were all witnesses. All casualties. Regardless of how it had come to this — they all needed to be dealt with.
"STOP—!!"
—To be continued—