《One Piece：The True Codex》Chapter 61: The Pledge of Allegiance (Part 1)

Hayreddin slumped against the wall as Edmond leaned in close, his face twisted with fury. "Do you remember me?" he snarled.

Hayreddin stared blankly at the young face before him. It looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't recall any specific memory tied to it.

The Red-Beard Pirates had pillaged countless ships under Arcadio Buendía's orders. Incidents like the one involving Edmond and Vallon were neither the first nor the last. Months had passed since Hayreddin had briefly seen Edmond, and it was no surprise that he hadn't committed the man's face to memory.

Seeing Hayreddin's confusion, Edmond's nostrils flared in anger. He suddenly grabbed Hayreddin's head and smashed it against the wall with a sickening thud. Hayreddin's eyes rolled back, and blood began to trickle from his nose. It was only when Aramis intervened and pulled Edmond back that the assault stopped.

"He can't die yet," Aramis said through gritted teeth, trying to calm his companion.

Edmond glared at the unconscious Hayreddin for a long moment, his bloodshot eyes filled with murderous intent. Finally, with great difficulty, he tore his gaze away and retrieved a Transponder Snail from his pocket.

Kuro, his face flushed and his steps unsteady, stumbled into the alley. After just a few steps, his foot landed in a puddle, splashing water onto his trousers. This only worsened his already foul mood, and he began cursing everything: the slums, the pirates, Barbarossa, Arcadio, and even Stolt—William's alias.

As he drunkenly ranted and leaned against the wall for support, a familiar, nauseating stench, mingled with the smell of rotting garbage, wafted into his nostrils.

Kuro shivered violently, clamping his mouth shut. He adjusted his glasses with trembling fingers and noticed what appeared to be a figure lying against the wall not far away.

Cautiously, he approached. The figure remained motionless, so Kuro grabbed their shoulder and gently turned them over.

The color drained from Kuro's face. The shock seemed to sober him up partially, as cold sweat trickled down and flushed some of the alcohol from his system.

Before him lay a corpse. The person's throat had been slashed open, and all their blood had drained away. It was impossible to tell how long they had been dead.

Suddenly, a window on the second floor of a nearby building creaked open, drawing Kuro's attention. He instinctively looked up, only to see a cascade of white powder descending toward him.

Kuro reflexively shut his eyes and stumbled backward. Unfortunately, his drunken state left him uncoordinated. Even though his mind was beginning to clear, his body betrayed him, his legs wobbling and unable to carry him out of the powder's range in time.

The powder landed on his skin and mixed with his sweat, causing an immediate burning sensation.

"Lime?!" Kuro thought in panic. He heard the sound of footsteps and the swish of something cutting through the air. Squinting through his stinging eyes, he could barely make out a figure in the darkness.

Instinctively, Kuro tried to dodge, but a sharp pain exploded in his shoulder as something heavy, likely an iron rod, struck him. The blow sent him reeling, and he collapsed to the ground.

Lying prone, Kuro discreetly reached into his coat and felt for the pistol and knife he always carried.

In the past, Kuro had prided himself on being both intelligent and brave. He believed that even as a merchant, a certain level of combat ability was necessary to prevent mutinies or other crises. However, he had never felt an urgent need to train rigorously or carry weapons at all times.

That changed when the Buendía Trading Company noticed his talents and recruited him to replace their previous quartermaster, who had died. Joining the Red-Beard Pirates had been a turning point for Kuro, forcing him to focus on improving his self-defense skills. Like most pirates, he now carried weapons even when ashore.

Through his squinted eyes, Kuro saw a large, hulking figure charging toward him. Without hesitation, he drew his pistol and fired.

The gunshot echoed through the alley, and the lead bullet buried itself in the figure's abdomen. Kuro rolled to the side as the massive body crashed to the ground, narrowly avoiding being pinned beneath it. A bloodcurdling scream erupted from the fallen figure.

Kuro, now holding a strange-looking knife without a traditional handle—just a finger loop—slipped it onto his index finger. With practiced speed, he flipped onto his stomach, crouching low like a feline predator and assuming a defensive stance.

A light breeze carried the anguished cries of the fallen figure through the otherwise silent alley. No further attackers emerged.

Confused and wary, Kuro wiped the lime from his eyes and squinted at the figure writhing on the ground. The screams sounded eerily familiar.

Just then, the clouds parted, allowing the moonlight to pierce through and illuminate the alley. The pale light fell on the face of the fallen figure, revealing a bald head and a scarred, bloated face that Kuro recognized instantly.

"Hayreddin! Why is it Hayreddin?!"

Kuro's mind went blank as a wave of terror washed over him, far worse than the fear he had felt during the ambush.

Questions and doubts flooded his thoughts.

"Why is Hayreddin here? Did Barbarossa send him to kill me? Did I, in my drunken stupor, accidentally kill him?"

But in the end, all these questions boiled down to one: "What will Barbarossa do if he finds out I killed Hayreddin?"

Kuro began trembling uncontrollably. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground.

There was no doubt in his mind—he was doomed. Reis and Hayreddin had been with Barbarossa since the beginning. Not only had they fought side by side, but they were also blood relatives. Hayreddin's volatile and irritable nature had been tolerated solely because of his deep bond with Barbarossa. Any other captain would have thrown him overboard long ago.

A noise from behind startled Kuro. He turned his head mechanically, his face blank with despair. Standing behind him was a dark-skinned man in a white sailor's uniform with a blue scarf—a Marine.

Kuro's pupils contracted in fear as the Marine looked down at him coldly.

"Get out of here," the Marine ordered in a low voice.

Before Kuro could react, the Marine delivered a powerful kick to his chest, sending him tumbling across the ground like a ragdoll.

Kuro's mind was a chaotic mess. He didn't even bother retrieving the pistol he had dropped in his panic. Scrambling to his feet, he fled the alley as fast as his shaky legs could carry him.

The Marine waited until Kuro was gone before crouching beside Hayreddin, whose breathing was growing weaker by the second. His expression remained cold as he pulled a black bandana emblazoned with a pirate insignia from his pocket. Tearing it into strips, he pried open Hayreddin's fingers and stuffed the cloth into his hand.

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