CHAPTER 9: Pirate Genes and Crimson Skies

"Congratulations on collecting the '(Pirate) Man' gene!"

"Congratulations on collecting the '(Pirate) Man' gene!"

"Congratulations on collecting the '(Pirate) Man' gene!"

…

As the system prompts echoed repeatedly, one pirate after another fell under Mio's blade.

Soon, only Jerry Keith remained, slumped against the shattered railings of his ship, his face pale and trembling in terror. He watched helplessly as Mio and Warwick slowly approached, their figures outlined against the sky like messengers of death.

"No, no! I—I'm willing to follow you! Don't kill me!" Jerry begged, tears mixing with blood on his face.

"Sorry," Mio shrugged, his tone casual. "I could use more crew members, sure. But you? You're not one of them."

His sword moved the moment his words ended.

Puff.

The blade pierced Jerry Keith's chest cleanly, sliding through his heart.

"Congratulations on collecting the '(Pirate) Man' gene!"

"Let's see what this gene gives me," Mio muttered, withdrawing his sword and returning it to his waist without bothering to clean off the blood. He walked calmly toward the cabin, eyes locked on his system panel.

[Gene Acquired]

(Pirate) Man Gene: Derived from common pirates of this world. Brimming with a love for the sea and carrying a faint trace of swordsmanship.

(Pirate) Man Gene (Captain): Derived from Jerry Keith. Love for the sea and rum—swordsmanship aptitude is noticeably higher.

"Hmm, still weak overall, but better than nothing," Mio muttered. He walked deeper into the pirate ship's cabin, eventually arriving at a large, messy room at the back. The stench of unwashed clothes and gunpowder filled the air.

He barely spared the filth a glance—his eyes were already locked onto the bed, where a modest-sized treasure chest rested.

"Well, it looks like there's more to gain than just a bounty," he grinned, stepping lightly toward the chest and flipping it open.

A golden gleam immediately reflected in his eyes.

Mio's lips curled into a wide smile. He reached in, letting gold coins slip through his fingers like water.

"This haul… might just be enough to buy myself a decent sword."

There were only so many top-grade blades in the world, but a quality weapon could still rival a famous one. Still, famed swords had history and names—those were worth chasing.

Closing the chest, Mio noticed something else on the bed: a Den Den Mushi.

After a quick moment of thought, he grabbed it too. "Might come in handy," he said to himself, before carrying both the chest and the snail back to the deck.

"Warwick! Take his head. We're done here," Mio called as he landed back on his own ship.

"Warwick got it!" the werewolf roared. He strolled over to Jerry Keith's corpse, grabbed the body and head with both claws, and—with a brutal rip—tore the man's head off in one motion.

Blood sprayed across the deck.

Mio twitched slightly at the sight, then looked away and sighed. "You really don't hold back, do you…"

He set the treasure chest down in his cabin, then unfurled a sea map.

"Let's see… where to next." His finger scanned the parchment until it stopped on a small island labeled "dangerous."

"Insect Island, huh? An uninhabited island… but it might be worth checking out," Mio murmured, eyes narrowing.

With sails hoisted once more, the ship departed from the scene of battle. The pirate ship, now full of corpses, drifted freely on the sea—its fate left to chance.

Time passed. The sun dipped below the horizon, and a crimson hue bathed the ocean.

Mio sat at the bow, fishing rod in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other. He hummed softly, the salty breeze blowing through his hair.

"Yo-ho-ho, yo-ho-ho, yo-ho-ho, yo-ho-ho…"

Meanwhile—North Blue.

Far across the sea, on another pirate ship sailing calmly through North Blue waters, a different scene played out.

On deck, a disgusting man with snot dripping down his face turned toward a blond figure in a pink-feathered coat.

"Dover, we're almost at our destination," Trebol reported with a grin.

Doflamingo, glass of red wine in hand, stared off into the distance, eyes hidden beneath his signature sunglasses. A twisted smile played on his lips. "Tell them to prepare. If they don't have the money… heh… they're dead."

"Don't worry," Trebol said confidently. "Those guys know who they're dealing with. If this arms deal goes through, our name will really shake up the North Blue underworld."

"More cash, more Devil Fruits, more soldiers," he added with a chuckle.

Just then, the tall and stern-looking Serka strode across the deck, an irritated look on his face and a Den Den Mushi in hand.

"Dover, something's wrong. One of our buyers—Jerry Keith—can't be contacted."

"Oh?" Doflamingo sipped his wine, the light glinting off his shades. "Is he playing with us?"

"Doesn't seem like it. He spoke with us yesterday, but hasn't responded today. Might've gotten himself killed."

"That bastard scraped together a ton of money just to make this deal," Serka added. "Even looted merchant ships and stole from a war-torn nation's treasury."

Doflamingo's brows creased. "Tch. What a waste."

"Should we try calling?" Trebol asked.

"Do it," Doflamingo ordered.

Serka nodded and began dialing.

Brrrrrrr…

The Den Den Mushi rang several times, then finally connected.

There was silence at first.

"Jerry Keith?" Serka barked.

Then came a voice—low, calm, and unfamiliar.

"Oh? Looking for that guy? He's dead."

Doflamingo's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. His lips curled up into a devilish smile. "Did he die by your hand?"

"That's right," the voice replied.

"He had a sum of money meant for me," Doflamingo said coldly.

"It's mine now."

A moment of silence. Then, a cold chuckle.

"Heh… heh heh heh… So, you're choosing to stand against the Donquixote Family?"