I'm A Plunderer In The World Of One Piece. - Chapter 50: Wapol's Brother.
“Woah!”
“106.”
“Woah!”
“107.”
Zoro stood shirtless on the deck of the Going Merry, slowly swinging a massive weighted barbell up and down.
As he moved the barbell, he grumbled:
“Hmph, they said I’d get lost in the snowstorm, so they made me stay and watch the ship. What a bunch of condescending guys.”
Beside him, Karoo the land duck, bundled up in a messy pile of clothes, shivered and quacked in protest:
“Quack… quack…” (It’s so cold, let’s go back inside!)
You should try to slow down…
Zoro recalled Shirogai’s advice:
“Slow? The slower, the better? Shirogai said I could only get faster by slowing down. What the hell does that mean…”
Suddenly, Zoro turned sharply toward the distant sea.
“Hmm?”
A black dot was growing larger in the distance—a very large ship.
The bow was shaped like a bizarre hippopotamus with half its face missing, the hull battered and warped.
“Huh? This ship looks familiar.”
Zoro frowned, but kept his movements steady, continuing his reps.
As the ship drew nearer, the commotion from the island guards erupted:
“A Pirate Crew! Wait—it’s Wapol’s ship!”
“Wapol is back! Alert Dalton immediately!”
“That bastard actually came back! Let’s drive him off!”
Zoro’s eyes widened in recognition:
“Wapol? Oh, that weird guy Shirogai punched into the sea.”
Creak!
The White Iron King, barely holding together after being wrecked by Shirogai, scraped against the shore and came to a halt.
The hippopotamus bow creaked open, releasing a broken gangplank.
Thump thump thump thump…
Pirate soldiers streamed out.
“It’s Drum Island!”
They looked around at the familiar snow-covered land, crying out:
“We’re back! We finally made it back!”
“After months, we’re finally home! Long live King Wapol!”
“We’re soldiers again! Not filthy pirates anymore!”
Among them, a large white hippopotamus swayed forward, carrying Wapol.
No longer ragged and injured, Wapol had regenerated his wounds by devouring the remnants of his ship.
“It’s Drum Island! I’ve returned!”
Laughing maniacally, Wapol looked at the land he once ruled:
“I’m finally back! My kingdom—Drum Kingdom!”
Bang!
A bullet struck his gaping mouth.
The island guards, fueled by hatred, didn’t wait for Dalton and stormed out.
“Charge! Take them down!”
“This is our land! Wapol has no right to it!”
“Living under Wapol again would be worse than death!”
“For everyone who died because he ran away—attack!”
Bullets rained down on the pirate soldiers, dropping them in waves.
But the pirates weren’t helpless—they raised rifles and fired back.
…
“Bullets? Crunch. Not bad.”
Wapol chewed on the bullet like it was a peanut, grinning.
He gazed at the incoming guards:
“Is this how my citizens welcome their king?”
He turned to his two loyal subordinates:
“Heh heh… if they’re this excited, let their lives be the tribute for my return.”
Chess, the kingdom’s former strategist, readied his bow.
Kuromarimo, the former administrative officer, cracked his gloves.
The two advanced toward the guards with sinister grins:
“As commanded by His Majesty, the King of Drum!”
They plunged into the fray—unopposed.
Swish!
A slash intercepted their path.
A calm voice followed:
“Hey, I’ll be your opponent.”
Zoro stood tall, Wado Ichimonji clenched in his mouth, Yubashiri in one hand, Sandai Kitetsu in the other.
The guards behind him beamed with gratitude:
“My esteemed Pirate Crew member! Thank you!”
Chess and Kuromarimo stiffened:
“It’s you—the Three-Sword Style swordsman!”
They panicked:
“Why are you shirtless? Damn—where’s the rest of your crew?! Are they hiding nearby to ambush us?!”
They frantically searched.
Zoro responded coolly:
“There’s no one else. It’s just me.”
Relieved, the two grinned.
If it was just Zoro, they could manage.
They were only afraid Shirogai—the guy who sent Wapol flying—was here.
“Heh heh. Since you want to die, we’ll help you!”
They charged in.
“Static Furball Punch!”
“Triple Volley Arrow!”
…
“Snore… snore…”
Inside the White Iron King’s cabin, liquor bottles littered the floor.
A middle-aged man with pink hair lay beneath them, snoring, a bottle in one hand.
Purple, sticky drool oozed from his mouth, forming odd mushrooms on the floor.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Someone pounded on the door.
“Mushuru! Wake up! We need your help! The Three-Sword Style guy’s too strong—our officers can’t stop him!”
Bang! Bang!
They started ramming the door.
“Sir! Please, wake up!”
Crack.
A bottle tipped and smacked Mushuru on the head.
The snoring ceased.
A second later, Mushuru groggily stood and staggered toward the door.
“Ugh, who’s knocking so early… so annoying…”
“Ow!”
The door opened and two pirate soldiers fell in.
Mushuru scowled:
“What’s going on? Why’re you two so messed up?”
“Mushuru!”
The soldiers snapped to attention:
“While you were drunk, we were attacked by a Pirate Crew. The White Iron King was nearly destroyed… but we finally made it back to Drum Island!”
“But we ran into the Three-Sword Style swordsman again. Chess and Kuromarimo can’t handle him—we need you!”
“Three-Sword Style?”
Mushuru sneered:
“Interesting. I’ll go meet him.”
He turned and stumbled out of the room.
Bang!
Just as the two soldiers moved to follow—
the door slammed shut.
“How dare you wake me from my beautiful dream. Hmph. Pay with your lives. [Small Poison Spores]!”
“Mushuru! We’re sorry! We were just following the king’s orders! Please—!”
Purple gas seeped into the room.
The two soldiers collapsed, clutching their throats, choking and kicking until they died in agony.
Outside, Mushuru walked the corridor, chuckling eerily:
“Heh heh… in this world, no one can match the power of my [Germ-Germ Fruit]… I am the strongest!”
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