Chapter 28 — Trouble
The West Blue — infamous as the cradle of the underworld — was home to the Five Great Families that ruled the black markets. Their influence was so great that even the local Marine branches dared not provoke them without careful thought.
On land you might not know which Marine branch governed your neighborhood, but you absolutely needed to know which gang's turf you lived in. After all, someone had to pay the protection fees.
When Chief Marlin finished explaining, Eiger finally understood the situation.
Someone had come to the Sibia Archipelago to collect protection money.
But the islands were remote and poor; the villagers had almost no income. No gang had come by for years — so why were they here now?
"Maybe it's because of your 160 million Berries!" Marlin said with a bitter sigh, reading Eiger's expression. "Those hyenas smelled it and came running."
"That doesn't make sense," Eiger frowned. "Winter just ended. We haven't even sold a drop of wine yet. No one's been traveling. Where would they have heard about it?"
The question hung in the air and everyone fell silent.
True — no shipments, no market visits, and yet the gang somehow knew. As the villagers exchanged puzzled looks, Nico, standing off to the side, suddenly shivered. Her face paling, she grew outwardly still; something had flickered through her mind.
Marlin cleared his throat awkwardly. "I don't know, either. Maybe they just have really good noses." He forced a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. Then his expression hardened. "They said their boss wants to see you. They want you to come with him. Right now some of them are inside the village — people are watching, worried they'll start something. What should we do?"
Before anyone could answer, a rhythm of heavy footsteps sounded behind them.
The villagers turned as one; faces that had just been frightened flamed now with anger. Menacing figures in black suits — six of them — stepped into view like a stain across the village square.
Eiger counted them at a glance. Six men. His mind replayed Marlin's words.
They came for him?
For what reason?
The leader — a scarred man with a wolfish grin — swaggered forward. "Old man, is your ex-Marine back yet? Boss has been waiting a long time. And what about the two hundred million Berries we're owed? You gonna cough it up or not? We've been patient — don't make us lose ours."
Marlin's temper broke. "We have nothing! Get out of here!" he snapped. "Don't you dare take anyone from this village, or touch our things."
"Yeah — get out! This is the Sibia Archipelago. We don't welcome scum like you!"
Villagers raised pitchforks, cleavers, and crude spears; their outrage swelled into a chorus of defiance.
The six men in black stiffened, faces darkening. The leader's grin curled into something cruel. "So you've been lying to me? Fine. Let's teach these fools a lesson."
No hesitation — the gang moved like predators. The village square prepared for a fight it had not wanted.
Eiger's jaw tightened. He stepped forward to stand between the villagers and the men in black, axe balanced on his shoulder.
"Enough," he said quietly, and his voice carried. "If you want to talk business, talk business. If you came to threaten the villagers, then leave."
The leader barked a laugh. "Business? The boss wants what's owed, and he wants face. He wants to see that ex-Marine. Bring him out and no one gets hurt."
The moment the leader's command left his mouth, one of his underlings—a young man, clearly newer than the rest—hesitated and spoke up nervously.
"Uh… I don't think that's a good idea, Kunge. The boss told us to invite that retired Marine, not… you know…"
Kunge's expression darkened instantly.
"Invite? This is how the Taimé Mafia invites! Who the hell let you in if you've got the guts to question me? You wanna get kicked out, kid?"
The younger man's face turned pale.
Kunge sneered, waving his hand toward the crowd of villagers.
"Let these idiots know what happens when you mess with the Taimé Mafia! Chop off that old man's hand—and I heard he's got a pretty little granddaughter too. When we leave, maybe we'll—"
He didn't finish.
A blur of motion interrupted him—so fast no one saw it happen.
Suddenly, a towering figure loomed in front of him.
Eiger.
Without a word, Eiger grabbed Kunge by the head with one hand, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
His tone was calm—too calm.
"So you're the one whose boss wants to see me?"
"?!"
Every gangster froze, eyes wide. Even Kunge, legs kicking helplessly, could only stammer incoherently.
"Y-you… you…"
Eiger's grip tightened.
"Didn't you say you wanted me to go meet your boss?"
"?!"
That's him? the other men realized in horror.
The retired Marine? The one they'd been sent to "invite"?
What the hell—weren't they told he was just a former Ensign?
They'd killed Marines before—Lieutenants, even—but this man… this wasn't a soldier.
This was a monster.
The remaining five men scrambled into a loose circle around Eiger, hands trembling as they drew weapons.
"H-hey! Let go of our boss right now, or else—!"
"Shut up!" Kunge croaked, forcing a pathetic smile.
"S-sorry, sir! Please, forgive me, I was—"
Eiger's eyes were cold.
"Weren't you just demanding money? Threatening to take women too?" he said flatly. "Now tell me. Why does your boss want me?"
"I—I don't know! The boss just told us to bring you—"
His voice broke off.
In a flash, Kunge's right hand darted to his belt, pulling out a pistol. His smile twisted back into malice.
"Die, you idiot! I'll bring your corpse instead—"
Crack.
He never got to finish.
Before the gun even fired, Eiger's hand closed around it and crushed it like tin foil.
Then—
Bang!
Kunge's head slammed into the dirt hard enough to leave a crater. Blood seeped from his nose and ears as his body went limp.
The world went silent.
The five remaining gangsters stared in shock, paralyzed.
Then, slowly, Eiger turned toward them—expression unreadable.
"Since none of you know anything," he said evenly, "one guide will be enough."
That single sentence broke them.
Someone screamed, "Run! He's a monster!"
They bolted in all directions.
But they were just ordinary thugs.
Even before, they would have been no match for him—
and now, they didn't stand a chance.
"Soru."
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Four sharp impacts echoed through the air.
In the blink of an eye, four bodies hit the ground, unconscious before they could even scream.
The only one left standing was the youngest—the same man who had protested earlier.
He collapsed backward, trembling uncontrollably.
Eiger looked down at him, his tone still calm.
"You'll do. You're taking me to your boss."
The man nodded so fast his head might've fallen off.
Eiger turned to Chief Marlin.
"Take care of these," he said simply.
"Leave it to me!" Marlin barked, puffing up with pride. Then, hesitating, he frowned.
"Eiger… are you sure you want to go?"
"I'll be fine." Eiger waved a hand dismissively. "I doubt any Yonko's gonna bother coming all the way to the West Blue just for me."
Still, a faint unease tugged at him.
Who was this "boss," exactly?
His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Darling…"
Nico approached, worry etched across her face. She opened her mouth to speak—but Eiger gently took her hand, smiling.
"I'll just check it out," he said softly. "Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it."
Before she could protest, he had already hoisted the terrified gangster by the collar and started toward the coast.
"By the way," Eiger said as they walked, his tone casual, "what's your name?"
"G-Ginny, sir! I—I swear, I was just following orders! We were only supposed to bring you, that's all!"
"Ginny, huh?" Eiger muttered, as if recalling something. His brow furrowed slightly, and his tone turned oddly dry.
"Your gang's called the Taimé Mafia, right?"
"Y-yes, sir!" Ginny squeaked.
"And your boss?"
"Victor, sir! Boss Victor!"
"..."
Eiger stared at him for a moment, then sighed.
"Victor, huh? What a painfully normal name."
He squinted at the trembling man dangling from his grasp.
"Honestly," he said with a wry smirk, "you look more like the boss than he does."
"...???"
Ginny blinked in confusion—
wondering, with growing dread,
whether being called the "boss" by this man was a blessing…
or a curse.