Chapter Fifty-One: Killing You Would Dirty My Hands

“All these years, everyone on the island has been waiting for your rescue. Now, after so much hardship, Arlong is finally dead, and all you can think about is coming here to carve up the loot?” Nami felt her entire worldview shatter.

Since setting sail, she had encountered her share of shameless people. But never had she met anyone quite like Captain Nezumi. A Navy captain who turned a blind eye to pirates and cared only about lining his own pockets—was this what they called naval justice?

“Enough, Nami. There’s no point talking to scum like this.”

“A rat will always be garbage, unfit for any real stage.”

“To put it bluntly, even Captain Morgan of Shells Town is better than him. At least Morgan kept Shells Town safe from pirates.”

From a distance, Loran approached the amusement park, sparing Nezumi only the briefest of glances before looking away in disgust.

This sort of Navy scum both amused and repulsed him. He liked it, because only with more men like this would those with true justice in their hearts lose faith in the Navy—making it easier for him to poach them. But he loathed them, too; such parasites in positions of power deserved nothing less than the wild boar’s ten tortures.

“You sailors over there, let me give you a word of advice—keep your filthy hands away from those treasures.”

“I killed Arlong. These riches are my rightful spoils of war. You lot aren’t even worthy of touching them.”

He patted Nami’s shoulder, giving her a look that said, “Leave it all to me,” and then turned his gaze on the foolishly bold sailors.

Everything is relative—even Morgan, the tyrant of Shells Town, seemed almost lovable compared to Nezumi. Under Morgan’s rule, Shells Town, though under a dictator, remained a prosperous commercial town. Apart from the monthly tribute, the people lived without much trouble. But Nezumi was another breed entirely—keeping pirates as his personal enforcers, extorting protection money, caring nothing for the lives of villagers, and even presiding over the tragedy of Gosa Village. Loran felt that even killing Nezumi would sully his hands.

“My friend, I suggest you don’t talk about spoils of war in front of the Navy.”

“You say you killed Arlong? I can give you his bounty, but these goods are stolen property. They must be handed over to the Navy. Is that clear?”

Nezumi eyed Loran, surprised that this ragged man had the strength to kill Arlong. Still, he wasn’t overly concerned. The rank of Navy captain ensured that no one here would dare touch him—unless someone fancied giving up a peaceful life to become a pirate.

“You… you… what kind of Navy are you?”

Koby’s face flushed with anger. Blow after blow, his faith in the Navy’s justice was crumbling. One Morgan was bad enough, and now this Nezumi appeared, even worse than Morgan.

Was this really the Navy he’d dreamed of joining, the justice he’d so longed to serve? If this was justice, he wanted no part of it. Compared to that, Loran’s take on justice seemed far more honest: If you act unjustly, even if you wear a Navy uniform, I’ll fight you.

With every turn, Loran’s standing in Koby’s mind only grew.

“Young man, not just anyone is qualified to question the justice of the Navy.”

Nezumi advanced, intending to teach Koby a lesson. If a woman questioned him, he could ignore it. If Loran challenged him, he’d let it slide for now—after all, Loran had beaten Arlong and might be a dangerous opponent. But this weak little brat dared question him? That was rich. As a Navy captain—even a branch one—not every stray dog had the right to challenge him.

“I advise you, truly—don’t try anything rash. Or I’ll cut you down right here.”

No one saw when, but Zoro had appeared behind Nezumi, the edge of the Wado Ichimonji pressed against Nezumi’s neck. One step closer, and the blade would slice his skin with ease.

Zoro actually had a soft spot for Koby. Since joining the crew, he’d seen Koby up every morning training, never giving up, no matter how exhausted he became. Zoro had respect for anyone with that kind of grit and determination. Whether someone was a pirate or not no longer mattered to him. He’d lost all respect for the Navy. He’d gone to sea to become stronger, to surpass Hawkeye—not to end up like Nezumi, bullying the weak and currying favor with the powerful.

“Roronoa Zoro, aren’t you afraid I’ll report you to Navy Headquarters and have you branded a pirate?”

Nezumi wasn’t as bold as he tried to look. With the blade at his throat, he raised his hands in surrender, face turning ghostly pale, cold sweat soaking the mouse-eared cap on his head. The rank of Navy captain was a shield only against those who didn’t want to become pirates. But with men like Zoro—untamed and unafraid—it was useless. Besides being greedy, Nezumi was a coward. He knew exactly who he could threaten and who he couldn’t.

“My, aren’t you impressive, Captain Nezumi. Declare someone a pirate, and—presto—they’re a pirate.”

Loran sneered, walking slowly up to Nezumi, his voice cold:

“The so-called Great Pirate Era didn’t just begin because of that Pirate King, Roger. It owes just as much to Navy scum like you!”

“If people don’t obey you, if they don’t hand over their money, all you have to do is call headquarters and they’re branded pirates.”

“With rules like that, how could the age of pirates not flourish?”

Loran’s face was nothing but contempt as he glared at Nezumi with utter disgust.

“My friend, are you joking? Someone who deliberately attacks a Navy captain—what else could he be but a pirate?”

Even with a blade at his throat, Nezumi’s shamelessness didn’t waver; his words rang with self-righteous authority. Yes, attacking a Navy officer could make someone a pirate—the two were sworn enemies, after all. But it depended on who the officer was. Anyone who tried to harm Garp, for instance, would be a monstrous criminal—pirate or not. But if the target was Nezumi, most people would probably applaud.

“Zoro, let him go. Killing this kind of person would only dirty our hands.”

Loran shook his head, instructing Zoro to lower his blade. He truly did want to kill Nezumi, but if he was to recruit from within the Navy, some compromises were necessary.

Zoro withdrew the Wado Ichimonji, and Nezumi visibly relaxed. But the next moment, Loran drove his fist into Nezumi’s stomach with all his strength, dropping him to the ground with eyes rolled back in pain.

“I only said killing you would dirty our hands. I never said I’d let you go.”

Loran spared Nezumi a glance, then turned to the shocked sailors. “If you value your lives, put your hands on your heads and let the villagers tie you up. Later, I’ll turn you over to headquarters for a Navy tribunal.”

“If you’re not afraid to die, you’re welcome to try and kill me. Frankly, back in Arlong Park, I haven’t had my fill of killing yet.”

Hearing this, the sailors dared not do anything else—they immediately put their hands on their heads and squatted on the ground as ordered. The truly fearless are those who fight for their beliefs. But these greedy cowards who preyed on the people feared death more than anyone.

In that, they were even worse than Arlong’s crew. At least the fish-men had fought to their last breath to cover Arlong’s escape—not one of them had abandoned him to save themselves.