Bab 295: Chapter 295
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The gentle hum of the massive ship slicing through the turbulent waters echoed in the background as Robin's voice broke through the silence.
"Brother Ross... why did we leave Kano Country in such a hurry?" Her voice carried confusion, which was unusual. She had always been one to observe and calculate before speaking, but our abrupt departure seemed to have unsettled her. Kano was in chaos, the perfect opportunity to take control. And yet, we left, not just quickly but hastily, without claiming the prize.
I sat on the railing, my back to the crew, the soft drizzle brushing my face as my gaze remained fixed in the direction of Kano Country. The ship rocked gently beneath us as though the ocean itself was reflecting the tension.
Robin's voice called out again, but Miyamoto cut in with a question of his own. "Did you not plan to hand over Kano Country to the Revolutionaries, Ross-kun? So why the hurry?" Even Miyamoto, with his deep knowledge of our deals, seemed puzzled.
He was aware of my arrangement with Dragon to hand over control of the nation, but that plan had been discarded in the blink of an eye.
The silence lingered between us, stretched taut by their questions and the uncertainty hanging in the air. I continued to play a slow, haunting melody on my violin, allowing the notes to fill the void, the strings vibrating with the storm that churned within me. After a few moments, I let out a breath, breaking the stillness with my words.
"Because Kano Country doesn't have much time left," I said, not looking at them, my fingers still moving effortlessly over the strings.
"The bounties on Marines and, more importantly, the Celestial Dragons… it's crossed a line. And when the World Government's authority is challenged, they make examples. And I'm afraid Kano will be one of those examples." My voice was calm, but each word carried weight, like the steady drip of water before a flood.
"But that's not something we should be worrying about, right?" Smoker's gravelly voice cut in, full of confidence. "I'm sure we can handle a few thousand Marines with ease." He smirked, arms crossed, leaning casually against the ship's railing.
He wasn't wrong. The crew had faced countless enemies, and the past few days had shaken the world with the bloodlust of the World Government. Islands burned, entire populations eradicated, the sea ran red. The Grand Line had become a butcher's block. But what Smoker didn't grasp was the scale of what was coming.
Lucci, who had been quietly feeding Hattori, finally spoke up, his eyes narrowing with thought.
"They're going to make Kano an example, aren't they, Master Ross? Like Sorbet Kingdom… they're planning to wipe it off the map, aren't they?" His voice was cold and calculating, every word deliberate, as though he'd already deduced the answer before even asking. Lucci's mind always gravitated to the darkest, most logical possibility.
I paused, my violin's melody fading as the last note hung in the air like the final heartbeat before death. "I'm afraid so," I confirmed, the words drawing a collective hiss from the crew. The weight of what was coming settled into their bones, the tension now palpable.
"Our informants have already reported that the Marine base in Kano and all surrounding islands are retreating, pulling out completely." I placed the violin beside me, standing up to face them.
"When Marines pull back, it means only one thing."
No one needed to ask. They knew. The unspoken truth sat heavy among us. Kano was doomed. Those who were sharp enough to notice the signs might escape in time, but even that wasn't guaranteed.
The World Government didn't care about collateral damage—Kano's destruction was simply a means to send a message. It wasn't just about the Revolutionary Army, the Marines, or even us. This was about power. Authority. Fear.
"I-I'm sure they wouldn't do something like that," Robin stammered, her voice shaking with a trauma that still haunted her from Ohara. The memories of an island being obliterated by the government, leaving nothing but scorched earth and shattered dreams, were still too raw. "The Marines wouldn't let it happen… would they?"
I sighed, my hand running through my damp hair, the rain now falling heavier. "Robin..." I turned to face her, my eyes soft but firm. "You still don't get it, do you? The Marines aren't the noble protectors they claim to be. They're nothing more than glorified mercenaries, Robin. At their core, they are no different from the pirates they claim to fight. But unlike pirates, they act under the banner of 'justice.' And the one thing you must never forget," I said, locking eyes with her, "is whose justice they serve."
The crew went silent. Even Smoker, normally brash and confident, had a grim look on his face. The truth was bitter but undeniable. The Marines served the Celestial Dragons, the World Government, and ultimately, their own survival. If an entire nation had to be erased to send a message, they would do it without blinking.
"They're going to annihilate Kano," I continued, my voice steady. "Just like Sorbet. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. It's not just about control or conquest anymore… it's about reminding the world who holds the leash. The bounties on Marines, especially the Celestial Dragons, have rattled the pillars of their power. And they'll tear entire kingdoms apart to restore that fear."
A cold wind swept across the deck, mingling with the rain, as everyone absorbed the grim reality of what was coming. The World Government was a beast—ancient, unfeeling, and terrifying in its power. To them, the destruction of Kano was not a tragedy. It was a message.
"And we?" Miyamoto finally asked, his voice laced with tension.
I took a deep breath, my gaze drifting back toward the horizon where Kano still lay far beyond the stormy seas. "We move forward. We keep going." I turned to the crew, a steely resolve in my eyes. "The world is changing, and the next storm is coming. We have to be ready."
The silence that followed was heavier than the storm surrounding us. We all knew the truth, even if it was hard to accept. Kano was lost, and soon, many more islands would fall. But this was only the beginning. The real war was yet to come.
*****
Kano country, West Blue
Kano Country, once a symbol of peace and prosperity, now teetered on the brink of ruin. A single rumor, carried like a plague across the island, had ignited a chaos that few could have foreseen.
The whispers of Kano being "erased" like Sorbet Kingdom had spread like wildfire, instilling fear in every heart. It wasn't just the rumor that unsettled the masses; it was the undeniable fact that the Marines, once the island's silent watchdogs, were retreating. People knew what that meant. Without the protection of the World Government, the threat of annihilation was real.
The streets, once filled with the hum of daily life, now trembled under the weight of panic. The World Times had published exclusive reports detailing the World Government's brutality across the seas, islands burned to ash, populations executed en masse. Now, with Kano's ruling monarchy dead—executed in the capital by the Donquixote Pirates—and the Marines pulling out, the people knew what was coming.
At every port, chaos reigned. Thousands of desperate citizens scrambled, clutching whatever possessions they could carry, trying to board overcrowded ships.
Women wept, children clung to their parents, and the strong shoved the weak aside, all driven by one primal instinct: survival. Everyone wanted to escape before the wrath of the World Government descended upon them, turning Kano into a wasteland like Sorbet.
But amid the chaos, the shadows grew darker. Opportunists and criminals thrived in the pandemonium, seeing the crumbling society as a chance to enrich themselves. In the noble district, far from the overflowing ports, a gang of half-starved looters roamed the streets, their eyes gleaming with greed.
"Crack!" The sound of shattering glass echoed through the district, cutting through the distant cries of panic. A man, all skin and bones, grinned maniacally as he tossed aside the broken glass from a jewelry store's display window. He reached in, grabbing fistfuls of sparkling jewels and pearls, shoving them into a gunny sack.
"Hahaha! Didn't I tell you?" The leader crowed, his eyes wild with hunger and excitement. "We've struck gold! These nobles left everything behind in their hurry to escape. Now it's all ours!" He grinned as his gang, six ragged men, stared in awe at the glittering treasures before them.
The men were skeletal from months of starvation, their cheeks hollow and skin clinging tightly to their bones. Normally, they would've been beaten away from the noble district by guards, but today, there were no guards.
The fear of impending doom had driven everyone with sense far from this part of town, leaving it vulnerable to vultures like them.
"Quick, hurry up!" the leader barked. "We need to clear this place out before other groups show up!" He stuffed more jewels into his bag, his eyes darting nervously around. Kano Country was falling apart, and he intended to make the most of it.
***
While looters ravaged the once-proud streets, not all had given in to the hysteria. In a high-end bar, tucked away in a corner of the noble district, an old bartender calmly polished a crystal glass, as if the world outside hadn't descended into madness. His wrinkled hands moved with practiced ease, the quiet rhythm of his work soothing his old soul.
He had lived in Kano his entire life and had no intention of fleeing. He had seen empires rise and fall, kings crowned and dethroned. This was his home, and if the island were to burn, he would burn with it. "I've lived long enough," he whispered to himself. "Let the young run. I'll stay."
But the sound of splintering wood shattered his peace. "Bam!" The door to the bar burst open, and more than twenty haggard men barged in, their clothes ragged, makeshift weapons clutched in their dirty hands. They were filthy, faces smeared with grime, eyes wild with desperation and excitement.
One of them, a burly man with a crude club resting on his shoulder, chuckled as he took in the pristine interior of the bar. "So this is where the nobles drink, huh? Never thought I'd step foot in a place like this," he sneered. "Guess today's full of surprises."
"Go get the drinks!" another man shouted, his eyes alight with greed. "I wanna see what's so special about the liquor that makes those bastards spend all their money here!" He stepped forward, reaching for a bottle.
"Bang!" A deafening gunshot echoed through the bar. The man froze as the shot punched a hole in the ceiling, bits of debris falling around him.
The old bartender stepped out from behind the counter, a double-barreled shotgun in his hands, the smoking barrel pointed directly at the men. His eyes, though aged, were sharp and cold. "If you can afford the drinks, you're welcome here," he said, his voice steady. "If not, leave. The first shot was a warning. The next won't be."
The intruders stood frozen for a moment, the burly man swallowing hard as he eyed the shotgun. But then, one of them, a man with a bloodstained necklace dangling from his hand, grinned darkly. "We've got the money, old man," he said, holding up the necklace, its crimson droplets still fresh. "We just took it from one of your precious nobles. You still gonna serve us?"
The old man's face hardened. He saw the blood, and in that moment, he realized these weren't just hooligans—they were killers. But before he could fire again, a dagger whizzed through the air, striking him square in the eye.
"Bang!" The bartender's shotgun fired as he fell, the blast tearing through one of the attackers, but it was too late. The others were already upon him. The burly man lunged forward, driving his knife deep into the old man's chest, pinning him to the marble floor. Blood pooled beneath him, but the old bartender fought to breathe, his life slipping away with each shallow gasp.
"You think you're better than us just because you served the rich?" the man with the necklace sneered, crouching over the dying bartender. "Kano's ours now. You and your kind are done!"
He lifted the shotgun the old man had dropped, fumbling with the unfamiliar weapon before pointing it at the bartender's head.
"Kano will be ours, old man."
"Bang…!" The gun roared, and the bartender's head exploded like a ripe melon, blood and brain matter splattering across the pristine marble floor.
"Go on, boys," the man grinned, tossing the shotgun aside. "The place is ours. Drink, eat, enjoy. Kano's falling, and we're gonna take every last bit of it."
The men cheered, pouring themselves drinks as the flames of chaos continued to burn bright outside.
Fear had turned Kano Country into a wasteland of desperation and betrayal, where survival trumped honor, and even the noblest of men found themselves succumbing to the darkness within.
***
On one of the secluded rocky beaches, far from the chaotic ports where the masses scrambled for escape, a nobleman was overseeing the frantic loading of his caravel. The small ship, already brimming with trunks of gold, jewels, and priceless heirlooms, creaked under the weight. His family of six stood nervously by, their eyes flicking toward the churning sea as if it could swallow them at any moment.
"Faster, you filthy dog! I don't pay you to stand around like an idiot!" The nobleman barked, delivering a vicious kick to the back of his servant, a towering man nearly four meters tall.
The blow barely registered on the servant's stoic face, but the humiliation hung thick in the air. This servant had been with him for as long as he could remember, a quiet, reliable beast of a man who had never once defied his master.
"Sir, all the goods have been secured," the servant said calmly, wiping sweat from his brow. "I've checked and accounted for everything." His eyes flicked briefly toward the tree line, where his wife and two small children waited nervously.
The nobleman had promised to take them aboard, a lifeline in these dark times. In exchange, the servant had worked tirelessly to ensure every ounce of his master's wealth was safely stowed away.
"Good. Now—" The nobleman's response was cut short as the servant dared to ask the question that had been burning in his mind.
"Sir... can I bring my family aboard now?" There was a hint of desperation in the servant's voice as he glanced back toward his wife and children, who stood silently under the shade of the tree, clutching each other in fear. Their eyes were wide with hope, but also the crushing weight of uncertainty.
The nobleman grunted, turning toward the caravel, inspecting the already overloaded deck. The ship groaned under the weight of the cargo, and his wife, standing elegantly on deck, shot him a cold glance.
"Are you mad?" His wife spat with venom as soon as the servant was out of earshot. "This boat is already overloaded. Do you want to sink us before we even leave the shore? His family will only drag us down!" Her voice was as sharp as a dagger, cutting through any hesitation her husband might have had.
"But..." the nobleman began, his eyes drifting back toward the servant's family. For all his harshness, he had planned to honor his word. This man had served him for years without complaint, even now working tirelessly to help them escape the impending doom that loomed over Kano. But the seed of doubt planted by his wife was taking root.
"No buts!" she snapped, her eyes narrowing in disgust. "Think about our children. The sea is unpredictable. Do you really want to risk our lives, our children's lives, to carry more dead weight? We already have a butler who knows how to sail. What use is that brute? He'll eat through our rations before we've even crossed the first island!" She crossed her arms, her gaze ice-cold as she looked at the servant's family. "Do you want to risk our future for worms like them?"
The nobleman hesitated, his mind whirling. He looked down at his hands, then at the servant's family waiting in the distance. His wife's words gnawed at him, twisting his thoughts. They were right—the sea was treacherous, and the caravel was already close to its limit. His heart pounded as his hand instinctively slid into his jacket, brushing the cool steel of the gun he kept there. The weight of the weapon felt oddly comforting.
"But... he could act as our bodyguard," he offered weakly, trying to salvage the promise he had made. "He's strong. If anything happens—"
His wife scoffed, interrupting him with a laugh that was as bitter as it was cruel. "You think that brute is better protection than a gun?" She raised an eyebrow, her lip curling.
"Look at you—you have the weapon. What use is he when you have that? Besides, he's been a servant all his life. Do you really trust him to protect us when things get ugly? No. He'll take his family and flee the moment he feels threatened. He'll abandon us in a heartbeat."
The nobleman's grip tightened on the gun. His wife's words made sense, twisted as they were. The servant, as loyal as he had been, was still just a tool. And tools could be discarded when they were no longer useful. He glanced back toward the servant, who was now running toward his family with hope in his eyes, ready to bring them aboard.
His wife's voice slithered into his thoughts once more. "Think about our children. Are you willing to risk their lives for the sake of keeping a promise to a servant? A servant, mind you, who can barely think for himself. We are their masters, not their saviors."
The nobleman looked at his children, huddled on deck, clutching their mother's skirts. He felt his resolve waver, the weight of responsibility crushing him. Slowly, almost unconsciously, his hand slid deeper into his jacket, fingers curling around the cold grip of the gun. His wife watched with satisfaction, knowing she had won.
As the servant reached the shoreline with his family, a broad smile on his face, the nobleman took a step forward. His heart pounded in his chest, his hand trembling as it gripped the weapon. The servant, oblivious to the decision that had already been made, gestured for his wife and children to follow him toward the boat.
But before they could take another step, the nobleman raised his gun, leveling it at the towering servant.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, though the apology felt hollow in his mouth.
"Sir?" The servant turned, confusion etched across his face. The moment stretched into eternity.
The nobleman's finger tightened on the trigger. Bang!
The gunshot echoed across the beach, cutting through the sounds of the crashing waves. The servant staggered, clutching his chest as blood blossomed through his shirt. His eyes widened in shock as he collapsed to his knees, the weight of betrayal more crushing than the bullet.
His family screamed in horror, but their cries were drowned out by the thunderous roar of the sea.
The nobleman stood frozen, the smoking gun still in his hand. His wife smirked, satisfaction gleaming in her cold eyes.
"Come, darling," she said softly, stepping forward to place a hand on his shoulder. "You made the right choice."
But as the servant's body fell to the sand, the nobleman felt no relief—only the hollow ache of guilt as the waves lapped against the shore, indifferent to the horrors of man.
***
The port of Kano Country had devolved into utter chaos, a boiling pot of fear and desperation. Once a bustling hub of trade and commerce, the docks were now packed with a frenzied crowd, each person driven by the primal instinct to survive.
The rumors of Kano being wiped off the map—like Sorbet Kingdom before it—had spread like wildfire. Fear gripped the hearts of every citizen, and the once peaceful people of Kano now scrambled for a way off the island.
Ships of all sizes rocked violently in the overcrowded harbor, their decks swarming with people. Mothers clutched their wailing infants to their chests, fathers shouted to secure a spot aboard any vessel that could still hold passengers. Many people had abandoned their homes with nothing but the clothes on their backs, the air thick with their desperate pleas.
"Please, let us on! I have money, I can pay!" one man screamed, thrusting a fistful of bills into the face of a ship's captain, who stood at the top of the gangplank.
"No more! We're full!" the captain bellowed back, swinging a heavy club to keep the mob at bay. But his voice was lost in the din of the frantic crowd. People continued to push forward, heedless of the fact that the ship was already filled to capacity, its hull dangerously close to sinking.
Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the air as the gangplank snapped under the weight of too many bodies. Several people tumbled into the sea, their panicked screams cutting through the chaos as they splashed into the dark, churning water.
Those left on the docks watched in horror as the passengers struggled, trying to swim back to shore, but the strong currents swept many of them away.
"Help! Help us!" a woman screamed, her hands flailing as the water dragged her under. Her child clung to her back, his cries piercing through the noise. But no one moved to save them. The desperation had consumed the crowd, and any sense of compassion had been drowned out by their own terror. Every man, woman, and child was now fighting for their own survival.
Nearby, an older ship's captain had drawn his pistol, waving it menacingly at the crowd of people attempting to storm his vessel. His crew had already been overwhelmed, trampled underfoot by the mob. Now, he stood alone on the deck, his face twisted in fury. "Back! All of you, back! I'll shoot anyone who comes closer!"
But his threats fell on deaf ears. The people surged forward, desperate to escape the fate they believed was inevitable. The captain fired a warning shot into the air, but it only seemed to incite the mob further.
He barely had time to reload before the crowd reached him, dragging him down into the seething mass of bodies. His screams were lost as he was swallowed by the mob, disappearing beneath the chaos.
At the far end of the dock, a group of nobles, dressed in fine silks and furs, shoved their way through the crowd. They carried trunks overflowing with gold, jewels, and expensive trinkets, their servants struggling under the weight. One nobleman, his face twisted in anger and fear, shoved aside a young woman who had fallen to her knees in his path.
"Out of my way, you filth!" he snarled, not even sparing her a glance as he made his way toward a waiting ship. The woman's cries went unheard as she was trampled by the panicked crowd, her body lost beneath the stampede.
As the nobles reached the dock, one of them waved a pouch of gold at a ship's captain. "This is yours if you can get us out of here! Now!" The captain's eyes gleamed with greed, and he nodded sharply, signaling for his crew to prepare the ship for departure.
But as the gangplank was lowered, the crowd surged again, overwhelming the nobles. The finely dressed men and women were pulled down into the chaos, their wealth and status offering them no protection in the face of the desperate mob. One noblewoman screamed as her expensive gown was torn from her body, and she was dragged into the sea of people.
In the distance, the sound of gunfire echoed across the port as Marines attempted to restore some semblance of order. But their efforts were in vain. The chaos had consumed the docks, and the once-disciplined soldiers were now trying their best to keep the people from tearing each other apart. These were the Marines who had stayed behind, neglecting the orders to retreat despite knowing that their fates were sealed if they stayed back on the island.
One Marine stood on a crate, barking orders into the crowd, his voice hoarse. "Everyone, back! We need order! Step away from the ships!" But the mob was beyond reason. They shoved him aside, desperate to reach the boats, and the Marine fell into the crowd, his weapon snatched from his hands as the throng swept him away.
Fires began to spread across the port as people fought viciously for spots aboard the few remaining ships. Smoke billowed into the air, adding to the choking stench of sweat and fear. The smell of burning wood mixed with the metallic tang of blood, and the port was quickly becoming a scene of carnage.
In one corner, a group of children huddled together, their tear-streaked faces wide with fear. They had been separated from their parents in the madness, and now they clung to each other, their eyes darting around the chaotic scene in search of help that would never come.
As the sun began to set on the once-thriving port of Kano, the screams of the desperate echoed into the night. Ships that had managed to escape the docks sailed away, leaving behind a city in ruins, a people broken by their own fear, and the haunting certainty that soon, there would be nothing left of Kano Country but ashes.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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