Chapter Forty-Three: Thank You for Your Compliment

Cocosia Village, the dock.

The pirate ship drifted slowly into port, brazenly mooring under the baffled gazes of the fishmen guarding the area.

Then, a corpse was flung from the ship, landing right before them.

“Little... Little... Little Eight…”

The fishmen’s pupils contracted at the sight of the body. Their blue-tinged skin turned deathly pale in an instant.

“Little Eight?”

The others were equally ashen, but none wished to believe it. How could they possibly associate this armless figure with the formidable officer, Little Eight? Yet, after living side by side for over a decade, they could recognize that face even if it had turned to ashes.

“Are you starting to feel afraid?” Raulan suddenly appeared before the fishmen, planting his foot on Little Eight’s corpse, mocking them with a sardonic smile.

“Does his current state seem familiar to you?”

“If you can’t recall, let me remind you—four days ago in Gosa Town, you carried out quite a few atrocities just like this.”

A terrifying aura of bloodlust surged forth. Raulan’s mocking smile vanished, his expression turning cold, murderous intent nearly tangible in his gaze.

“You wretch! How dare you do this to Little Eight! I’ll kill you—”

One fishman quickly recovered, snatching up a long blade and charging straight at Raulan. Little Eight’s death had already enraged them, but now this human, from who-knows-where, dared to trample upon his body—it was intolerable.

They were all fishmen from the Grand Line, and only a handful remained. Many had died over the years for various reasons, leaving the survivors to cherish each other’s existence.

Even their leader, Arlong, addressed them as kin and treated them kindly.

But now, the gentle soul of the paradise, Little Eight, was not only slain by these outsiders, but his corpse was also being desecrated.

It was unbearable—for him and for all his brethren.

He was not the only one to seize a weapon and attack Raulan. Every fishman present who witnessed this scene was inflamed with fury.

“Is that all it takes to infuriate you?”

Still cold, yet tinged with mockery, Raulan shifted slightly, letting the attacking fishman strike nothing but air.

“If that’s the case, I hope you’ll calm yourselves soon—otherwise, I fear what I’m about to do next may drive you to die of rage.”

The Shortfin appeared seemingly out of nowhere, its dark red blade sliding softly from its sheath as Raulan smirked and moved beside a fishman.

With a swift motion, he cleaved the fishman in two, blood spraying and forming a crimson mist in the air.

Raulan’s ruthless assault did not frighten the fishmen; instead, the death of yet another comrade only fueled their wrath.

There were a dozen or so fishmen present. Aside from one who slipped away amidst the chaos, the others charged Raulan with unwavering resolve.

A dozen blades gleamed coldly, intimidating to behold.

But their collective assault seemed utterly foolish to Raulan. Had he simply wanted them dead, a single flying slash would suffice, as it had for the pirates on Krieg’s ship before. Yet, that kind of death was far too merciful.

He intended to kill them one by one, forcing the fishmen to witness their kin being slaughtered, so that true terror would take root in their hearts.

Raulan’s movements were a blur; his fifth-level speed far surpassed any fishman. In the blink of an eye, he vanished from sight, only to reappear and slice another fishman cleanly in half, blood pooling across the ground.

After what happened in Gosa Town, Raulan’s pity for wicked lives had utterly vanished.

He would not become a bloodthirsty monster, but for those deserving death, he would show no mercy.

These fishmen were proof of Raulan severing ties with his past.

One by one, the fishmen fell, each unaware of what struck them, their bodies split in two.

Blood quickly stained the earth red.

As their comrades perished, a creeping sense of fear finally began to emerge among the surviving fishmen.

Another fishman fell, his eyes wide with terror, fear plain in his gaze.

Witnessing this, the last three fishmen stood back to back, faces ghostly pale.

Sweat born of terror soaked their clothes completely.

They swallowed repeatedly, eyes wide open as they scanned their surroundings, desperately searching for threats.

But even so, their fear did not abate in the slightest.

Their desire for vengeance for Little Eight faded with time, as more comrades fell.

“He’s coming—”

One fishman watched Raulan suddenly appear, swallowing nervously, eyes fixed ahead.

There Raulan stood, dressed in a pristine white suit, just as immaculate as before.

Not a drop of blood marred him from the slaughter—only a few flecks stained his face, though none could say when they appeared.

“What’s wrong? Already frightened?”

Raulan’s twisted smile, paired with blood on his face, made him look utterly terrifying.

“You devil…”

“You’re a devil…”

The fishman’s hands trembled, barely able to hold his blade.

“A devil, you say?”

Raulan licked the blood from his face, cackling with a sinister glee.

For some reason, he suddenly relished those words.

“Thank you for the compliment.”

Raulan appeared before the fishman in an instant, gently uttering his thanks, then with equal gentleness plunged the Shortfin into the fishman’s heart and withdrew it.

Blood spurted forth instantly.

“A true devil is born bathed in blood.”

He looked with satisfaction at the blood staining his white suit.

At last, the remaining two fishmen could not endure the torment—one sliced his own throat, and the other fainted outright.

“Zoro, tie up this fishman and hand him over to the villagers when this is done.”

“The villagers are yours to protect. Those small fry won’t be able to match you.”

With the battle over, Raulan glanced at the dumbstruck Zoro behind him and issued his orders.

That done, Raulan turned and walked in the direction the escaping fishman had taken.

He had deliberately let that fishman go, intending for him to notify Arlong and lead the way.

With Arlong’s temperament, once he learned his brothers had been slain, he would surely seek Raulan in wrath and vengeance.

When that happened, his misplaced confidence in his own strength would lead him straight to his doom.

With the dock cleared of fishmen, Nami and the others disembarked under Zoro’s escort.

As for the pirates, after witnessing Raulan toy with the fishmen like a demon, their fear of him only deepened.

Now, none needed Raulan or Zoro’s orders—they took it upon themselves to clean the dock and round up prisoners.

“Finally... finally, it’s all about to end…”

Gazing at the blood-soaked ground, Nami felt no revulsion or fear, not even a trace of pity.

Her only emotion was exhilaration—exhilaration at long-awaited deliverance.

Once Raulan killed Arlong and his officers, Cocosia Village would be completely liberated.

She and the villagers would no longer have to live under the oppressive rule of those vile fishmen.

“Is that... Nami?”