“Teach, do you live right beside the dock?” Marco asked as they disembarked from the Moby Dick, his hands clasped behind his head.
“Yeah.
My place isn’t far from here.” “Let’s go take a look,” Thatch suggested.
“You’ll probably be leaving with us, so you should pack your belongings and bring them aboard.” Teach led the way, followed by Marco, Jozu, Thatch, and Vista.
Birds of a feather flocked together.
Aside from Teach, the four of them had naturally formed a small group.
Each possessed strength and potential that surpassed most of the others aboard the ship.
Teach’s performance against the Sea King had earned their recognition.
Rakuyo would normally have joined them as well, but he was older and often helped Whitebeard manage the crew, leaving him little time to fool around with the younger members.
As they approached Teach’s small wooden hut, he immediately noticed something was wrong.
The door had been hacked to pieces.
Inside, the cabin was a complete mess.
His few belongings had been destroyed, the cooking pot, bowls, and water jar smashed, and even the wooden bed broken apart.
Teach stared at the wreckage with a dark expression.
He already knew who was responsible.
It could not have been the Whitebeard Pirates.
They would not waste their time on something so pointless.
That left only the islanders.
“Teach, what happened here?” the others asked.
“Just some petty retaliation,” he answered calmly.
“I can’t host you now.
I need to find out who dared destroy my home.” “Here.” Vista handed him a sword.
“Thanks.” Teach gave it a few experimental swings.
The weapon felt awkward in his hands; he had never learned how to use a sword.
He walked straight into town and headed for the blacksmith shop.
The blacksmith was one possible culprit.
The other was the family of the fisherman Teach had nearly killed.
“Are you sure that monster Teach is dead?” the blacksmith asked from inside the shop.
“Hmph.
We’ve already destroyed his house, so it’s too late to worry now.” “I saw a Sea King chasing him with my own eyes.
He hasn’t returned for an entire day and night.
He must be dead!” The speaker was a young man—the son of the fisherman Teach had kicked into the sea.
Standing outside the shop, Teach grinned coldly.
There was no need to search any further.
They were both here.
Sword in hand, he stepped inside and looked at the two men.
“Ah!” The blacksmith, whose face was still wrapped in bandages, cried out in alarm.
“Teach!
This man destroyed your house!
I tried to stop him!” he said frantically, pointing at the young man.
“Is that so?” Teach asked, casually swinging the sword in his hand.
“Of course!
You know me.
How would I ever dare destroy your home?” the blacksmith stammered, staring fearfully at the blade.
The young man beside him looked furious.
How did this monster survive being chased by a Sea King?
“Coward!” He cursed the blacksmith before turning toward Teach.
“I did it!
You demon!
My father only said a few words, and you killed him!” “Your father?” Teach tilted his head.
“Oh, that foul-mouthed piece of trash?
He’s already dead?” “He couldn’t even survive one kick.” Teach’s malicious tone, combined with his fierce appearance, made him look every bit the villain.
Marco and the others watched from the entrance without reacting.
The Whitebeard Pirates might have been considered relatively honorable, but they were still pirates.
They were men who picked up swords to kill and put them down to drink.
To them, family mattered above everything else.
Roger could destroy an entire country for his companions, and the Whitebeard Pirates were capable of the same.
They had even more reason to do so, as family was everything to them.
Whitebeard himself was no saint.
He was simply fiercely protective of his children.
His sons could make mistakes, but no outsider had the right to punish them.
With Whitebeard setting that example, the rest of the crew naturally followed.
“Bastard!” The young man drew a dagger and charged at Teach with a roar.
“Smack!” Teach swung the sword sideways, striking the young man’s wrist with the flat of the blade.
The dagger flew from his hand.
His wrist twisted unnaturally as blood poured from the wound, and he collapsed, clutching it and screaming in pain.
“Why did you have to provoke me?” Teach approached him one step at a time.
“You—” Teach drove the sword into his chest before he could finish speaking.
“You talk too slowly.
I got tired of waiting.” He pulled the blade free without emotion.
“Teach, this is wonderful!
That man was the one who destroyed your home—” The blacksmith stumbled forward, desperately trying to explain himself.
Teach turned and swung the sword, killing him before he could finish.
He crouched and stared into the man’s still-blinking eyes.
“Did I give you permission to speak?” The blacksmith’s lips trembled faintly.
Teach waited with genuine curiosity, hoping the man might somehow manage to say something.
“Tch.” The blacksmith truly was useless.
For a moment, Teach had thought he might witness some kind of medical miracle.
Ignoring the two bodies behind him, he walked out of the shop.
“Vista, thanks for the sword.” “Don’t be so polite.
I have a feeling we’ll be brothers very soon.” Vista’s expression remained unchanged.
The blood still dripping from the blade did not bother him.
Teach carefully observed the others’ reactions.
Thatch appeared to want to say something.
After hesitating several times, he finally spoke.
“Teach, we still planned to remain on the island for another day.
This is going to cause panic.
You could have simply taught them a lesson.” Thatch believed he was the closest to Teach.
Since he was also older, he felt responsible for guiding him.
Marco frowned slightly but remained silent, while Jozu and Vista showed no unusual reactions.
Their responses were exactly what Teach had expected.
Before he could answer, Marco spoke.
“Forget it.
It’s already done.
The ship is nearly finished resupplying, so we can leave now.
We just need to report it to Pops.” Teach chuckled inwardly.
Marco’s reaction was exactly as expected.
Having followed Whitebeard since childhood, Marco had already spent many years as a pirate.
He had encountered every kind imaginable—brutal, honorable, strange, and depraved.
He did not care what kind of people his brothers were.
Whether someone was worthy of becoming Whitebeard’s son was for Pops to decide.
Marco had only one absolute boundary: Whitebeard’s iron rule that no family member could be harmed.
As long as that rule remained unbroken, he could tolerate nearly anything else.
“Thatch, you’re right.
I lost my temper when I saw what they did to my home.” Teach draped an arm around Thatch’s shoulders, smearing blood across his clothes.
“Let’s go.
I’m homeless now, so I have no choice but to find Pops.” With that, he half-dragged Thatch away while the others followed.
The moment they returned to the ship, the crew began questioning them.
“Was there a fight?” “Teach, why are you covered in blood?” “Do you need help?” After drinking everyone under the table the previous night, Teach’s bold and spirited behavior had brought him much closer to the crew.
“Hahaha!
It’s nothing!
I already dealt with it!” Teach laughed heartily and casually threw an arm around the nearest person.
“Bastard!
If it’s nothing, stay away from me!” “Damn it, Teach!
You got blood all over my new clothes!” The crewmates who had been ready to join the fight immediately scattered as though Teach carried some terrible disease, their faces filled with disgust.