Chapter 80: The Hunt Begins
"How is that possible? When would we ever assassinate a Celestial Dragon, you idiot?" Jesus Burgess retorted in a hushed, frustrated tone, completely unaware of the peril they were in. "This guy is even more arrogant than I thought. He actually dared to hit a CP0 agent right in front of a Celestial Dragon."
Blackbeard Teach, however, felt a cold sweat seep from his forehead, dampening his turban. Come here to catch pirates? And he dares to be this bold in front of a World Noble? Did he really get some kind of tip-off? A wave of primal fear gripped him. He glanced furtively at the path behind them.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Teach muttered, his voice low and urgent. "Let's be quiet and retreat from the back, now! 'Sea King' Jock Ian... the one man I least wanted to meet."
In the center of the road, Saint Charlos scratched his face, utterly confused. "Uh, are there really pirates ambushing us?" he asked, his musket wavering uncertainly.
Jock Ian's enhanced senses, particularly his newly acquired ability to 'Listen to the Voice of All Things,' had already mapped the entire grove. He knew precisely how Blackbeard and his crew were attempting to slink away.
"Saint Charlos..." Ian began, his voice cutting through the chaos. Then, with a dramatic flourish of his finger, he shouted, "Look! Pirates!"
His pointed finger aimed unerringly at the exact spot where the Blackbeard Pirates were hiding.
The wall of Marines instantly parted, clearing the line of sight and revealing the fleeing figures.
Blackbeard: "!!!"
His Crew: "!!!"
How did he find us? So precisely!
While the other crew members hesitated, frozen for a split second, Teach made his decision. He turned and fled without a second glance, bellowing at his crew, "Run! Get out of here, now!"
"Open fire!" Ian commanded.
Boom!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A volley of gunfire erupted from the Marine ranks, aimed at the retreating forms of the Blackbeard Pirates. The shots were largely for show—a "festive atmosphere," as Ian thought—meant to panic their prey and confirm their guilt for the watching Celestial Dragon.
In the middle of the street, Saint Charlos's eyes bulged. He looked down at the body of the CP0 captain, then back at the fleeing pirates, a dawning comprehension on his face. "There really was a pirate ambush here... What he said was true..." He glared at the corpse. "So, when you ordered the Navy to retreat... what were your intentions?"
The remaining CP0 agents froze, a mortal terror seizing them.
The lead bodyguard, who had been struggling to get up, shook his head frantically. "It's not... it's not what you think, Saint Charlos! Coincidence... This must be a coincidence! I didn't know, I didn't know there were really pirates here!"
Jock Ian seized the moment to fan the flames. "Eh? That's not what I meant," he said, his tone deceptively light. "I told you there were pirates lying in ambush, and you, as CP0, claimed to have all the information. You told us to withdraw and not to interfere. But shouldn't the safety of Saint Charlos be our absolute top priority?"
The third essential of quarreling: When the enemy is tired, hit him; when the enemy is panicked, change the concept and add fuel to the fire!
Cornered and panicking, the CP0 captain stammered, "Major General Ian, I think you misunderstood me. I—"
Bang!
Before he could finish, Saint Charlos fired his musket, the shot hitting the captain in the chest. The trained agent wasn't killed instantly, his body twitching as he struggled on the ground.
"I'm tired of it. I don't want to hear any explanations. What a waste," Saint Charlos declared with childish petulance.
Bang!
Bang! Bang!
Three more shots rang out, aimed directly at the captain's head. The twitching stopped.
Jock Ian stood by, a cold, faint smile playing on his lips. What a man. Doesn't listen to explanations and kills decisively.
"The captain of the CP0 bodyguards was shot dead on the street by Saint Charlos."
The brutal scene sent a wave of pure panic through the remaining agents. Working for the Celestial Dragons was like wearing a noose around your neck; the slightest misstep meant death. And the key was... you didn't dare fight back.
"What are you all still standing around for?" Jock Ian's voice cut through their fear, taking command of the situation. "Hurry up and escort Saint Charlos to a safe place! Aren't you his bodyguards? Leave the task of catching these pirates to our Marines. Saint Charlos is a noble man; no mistakes can be made. Or..." he let the word hang in the air, "...are you also the pirates' accomplices? Are you no longer planning to protect Saint Charlos?"
He had taken the moral and tactical high ground, continuing to pressure the stunned bodyguards. His sharp tongue had just witnessed their captain's death; who would dare talk back now?
"Yes, Major General Ian is right! Protect Saint Charlos and evacuate!"
"Saint Charlos, please, mount up! Let us leave this place immediately!"
"Thanks to Major General Ian for his timely arrival! Saint Charlos, your safety must come first!"
The bodyguards, falling over themselves to agree, quickly formed a protective circle around their master.
"Well... let's leave here. We'll go around the front," Saint Charlos said, mounting his slave. He stared blankly at the crowd for a moment, then scratched his face again. "Eh? What was I supposed to do just now?" He shrugged. "Forget it, I can't remember."
Jock Ian waved, a friendly smile plastered on his face. "Goodbye, Saint Charlos! You are always welcome to visit our island often!"
He watched as the Celestial Dragon procession departed, surrounded by the cowed bodyguards. As they disappeared from view, Ian's expression turned to ice, and he muttered the second half of his sentence under his breath, "...assuming he's still alive."
He then gestured casually to the corpse on the ground. "Someone clean this up." He then addressed the dispersing civilians, his voice firm but carrying a note of warning. "Everyone, no need to kneel any longer. Please disperse. The island is not peaceful today. Return to your homes and try not to go out."
His orders were followed immediately. The civilians scattered quickly, not daring to linger.
Then, Jock Ian turned his full attention to the chase. His eyes, sharp and focused, locked onto the path the Blackbeard Pirates had taken. The friendly facade was gone, replaced by the relentless gaze of a predator.
"Peacock, T-Bone, Skylark, Nami," he said, his voice low and commanding. "The real work begins now. Do not let them escape. The 'Sea King' is going hunting."