One Piece: Pirate Code

In the study, the couple had already begun their illicit affair. Despite Sherlock's face flushing red from the effects of alcohol, his expression remained eerily calm.

Only after loading both pistols did Sherlock kick open the secret room's hidden door. The startled lovers froze in shock.

Stepping into the study, Sherlock immediately saw the two sprawled across the desk where Sasarian had often worked. The man above turned his head upon hearing the noise, locking eyes with a pair of blazing, furious pupils.

Compared to the aging and corpulent Sasarian, the tax officer was indeed younger and more handsome—no wonder Sherlock's stepmother was willing to engage in such a sordid affair. But this sight only made Sherlock's anger burn hotter.

Bang!

Without hesitation, Sherlock fired. While no marksman, the close range made it impossible to miss.

The lead bullet buried itself into the tax officer's chest. Although not fatal on impact, the soft nature of lead caused it to fragment and tumble inside the body, creating devastating wounds.

The tax officer collapsed onto the floor like a sack of mud, wailing miserably. Sherlock's stepmother screamed but abruptly fell silent when she saw Sherlock aim the other pistol at her.

She was undoubtedly a beautiful woman, fitting to have married the local merchant guild leader. Yet in Sherlock's eyes at that moment, she appeared grotesque.

"Sherlock, you can't do this! If you kill someone, you'll be arrested," the woman pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation. "Without you, the family business will truly be finished."

"Did my father ever wrong you?" Sherlock asked calmly, ignoring her words. "I know you didn't truly love him, but you could have just left. You know his nature—he wouldn't have made it difficult for you and would've given you enough compensation. He's treated you well all these years, given you assets that ensure you'll want for nothing. Isn't that enough?"

Perhaps it was the proximity to death or a rare pang of conscience, but tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, "I was wrong, Sherlock! But you can't kill me. If you're caught, the Shining Gold Merchant Guild will be destroyed!"

Sherlock didn't respond for a long time. Hope flickered in her eyes, thinking he might have softened.

"You really think I'm so desperate to protect the family business that I'd let you manipulate me?" Sherlock sighed and asked softly after a moment, "The raiders last year—were they your doing?"

The woman's face froze in shock.

Bang!

This time, Sherlock took his time aiming. The shot was precise, hitting her forehead. The lead bullet exited through the back of her skull, taking a small piece of bone with it. Her corpse fell with a thud beside the tax officer's lifeless body, her face still frozen in disbelief.

Sherlock stood motionless, maintaining his firing stance until he heard movement outside the study. He instinctively pointed his now-empty pistol at the sound.

The butler, having rushed in at the noise, turned pale at the sight of the corpses and Sherlock standing with a gun in hand. "Y-Young Master!"

Both the scene and Sherlock's icy demeanor terrified and alienated him.

"Tell the servants to leave the villa immediately," Sherlock ordered coldly. "From today onward, you're all dismissed. Go now. If you don't leave, you won't get another chance."

Having killed two people, Sherlock knew the local authorities, already coveting his family's business, would never spare him.

The butler, facing the pistol's barrel, dared not argue. Bowing stiffly, he left quickly.

After the butler departed, Sherlock moved to the desk. From a drawer, he retrieved a small box containing an antique coin of deep historical significance—purchased generations ago by his great-grandfather from a sailor. The family business and guild name, "Shining Gold," were derived from it.

Placing the box in his pocket, Sherlock took a bottle of strong liquor from the cabinet and drank deeply, the liquid spilling from the corners of his mouth. Wiping his face with a sleeve, he raised his arm.

Crash!

The expensive liquor shattered across the desk. The intoxicating aroma filled the room, but Sherlock wasn't done. He grabbed more bottles from the cabinet, smashing them open. Then, entering the secret room, he tore apart the ledgers and records crucial to the guild and merchant business, scattering them on the floor.

Finally, he struck a match, hesitated momentarily, and tossed it onto the alcohol-soaked papers.

He wouldn't let some wretched earl easily seize control of everything.

Flames roared as the servants fled the villa in panic, smoke billowing into the night.

Standing before the blaze, Sherlock finally allowed himself to show his anguish.

He had always prided himself on his intellect and abilities, yet his family's legacy, painstakingly built over generations, was ruined in his hands.

As the fire spread and nearby residents began to notice, Sherlock wiped his eyes, took one last look at the burning villa, and ran toward the docks.

He would return. He had to return.

For pirates, manpower was always a pressing issue.

The navy, deeply entrenched worldwide, could recruit from a global pool, ensuring they were never short on talent or even mediocre soldiers.

While pirates were often compared to the navy, they were, in truth, a scattered and disorganized bunch, each group acting independently. Their crews were inconsistent in quality. Most pirate crews were little more than gangs of drifters, vagabonds, and thugs—far removed from the navy's stable recruitment pool.

Even so, pirates couldn't neglect recruitment. Without the luck of a protagonist, battles often led to casualties. A crew that couldn't replenish its ranks grew weaker with every fight, eventually meeting its end.

Thus, it was common to see pirate crews filled with scoundrels, rogues, and drunkards. Pirate crews had little choice but to take whoever was willing to join at each port, even if it meant scraping the bottom of the barrel.

William, having witnessed this haphazard recruiting style during his time with the Denton Pirates, had once disdained it. Yet now, he appreciated its utility—it allowed him to easily slip aboard the Redbeard Pirates' ship.

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