Chapter Fifty-Six: Sagittarius

Qiu Bai shifted his body slightly to the side; beside him lay the shattered remains of a wooden barrel scattered across the floor.

Although he had not been injured, it would be inaccurate to say he was “completely unscathed.” His shirt had been slashed open in several places by sharp claws, and through those clean, precise rips, a vivid red mark was visible on his chest—a tattoo of a hornless, short-legged, long-tailed ram drawn in a spiral, rendered in a somewhat abstract style. Anger, envy, greed, sloth, lust, gluttony, pride. The image of a goat often symbolizes the devil, but the one on Qiu Bai’s body represented “lust,” one of the seven deadly sins… Such was the comprehensive “skin” he’d chosen.

With crimson hair and golden eyes, his frame appeared lean beneath the wind-tossed shirt. If Qiu Bai remained silent, one might notice a charm tinged with a certain philosophical allure—a pronounced collarbone.

Wine dripped from his hair, tracing a path across his chest, and the fragrance of liquor suffused the air more intensely around him, lending him a solitary elegance. Yet, unfortunately for him, the Navy would never appreciate the beauty of a pirate.

“A Navy Lieutenant? Would a ‘figure of such stature’ really resort to ambushing a petty pirate like me, utterly devoid of professional ethics?” Qiu Bai’s gaze drifted from the “Justice” emblazoned on the greatcoat behind his opponent to Lieutenant An’s face—using the route a gentleman ought to take.

From the decorations and insignia on her uniform, Qiu Bai could determine the rank of the female marine before him.

She was a lieutenant, just a step from the commissioned ranks, already counted among the Navy elite—a middle officer, the backbone of the force.

As for why the good lieutenant had attacked him without a word? That was the simplest thing in the world: because of Qiu Bai’s bellow, the Navy’s presence had been exposed.

“It’s simple. Because you’re a pirate.”

An’s answer to Qiu Bai’s question was even simpler.

Her slitted pupils gleamed with wild, dangerous light as she raised her right hand once more—now more accurately termed a “right claw,” shaped like a blade, reflecting a chilling gleam.

Had Qiu Bai not dodged swiftly just now, he’d certainly be lying flat by now.

With the lieutenant taking the lead, the Navy advance party had already boarded the pleasure craft; in such dire circumstances, the notoriously chatty Qiu Bai hardly had the leisure to admire a cat-eared beauty.

“To be precise, I’m only an apprentice pirate, still in training,” Qiu Bai said with the humility of his station. His gaze now returned to the long tail swaying behind his opponent.

He wondered, if he were to seize that tail, would she lose all will to resist, whimpering helplessly, like a certain alien monkey… He attempted to picture the scene.

Once again, let it be stated: Qiu Bai had absolutely no intention of admiring the cat-eared lieutenant.

“An apprentice pirate?”

“Still a pirate,” An replied to herself. To the Navy, a pirate is a pirate; there is seldom any need for further distinction.

“I mean to say, I’m just a nobody, so I have no desire to make enemies of the Navy’s elite.”

Qiu Bai was far from a notable figure; as he spoke, he even retreated a few steps as though in fear, yet his face betrayed not the slightest trace of apprehension.

On the contrary, he was almost excessively composed.

Just moments ago, An had indeed believed Qiu Bai to be an ordinary pirate, but for him to evade her attacks twice in succession proved he was anything but common—even if not of officer rank, he certainly wasn’t bottom-tier.

“Pirate boy, don’t tell me you’re one of those who never lay a hand on a woman?” she asked, as if jesting, though her eyes were cold as winter ice.

“No, I’d never be so arrogant,” Qiu Bai denied flatly. He would not carry that burden. He had always upheld the principle of equality—between men and women, and between humans and monsters alike.

For reason and observation led to a certain conclusion: those who loudly proclaimed “never hit a woman” often harbored the urge to use a certain natural weapon on others—the classic example being a certain blond with curly eyebrows.

As Qiu Bai spoke, he continued to back away, but Lieutenant An would not permit him to widen the distance any further.

She crouched low, her torso nearly parallel to the deck—a classic feline posture.

Undeniably, Zoan-type Devil Fruits often gave the user explosive physical power, especially after transformation.

Her earlier attack had been rushed, so now An resolved to unleash her full speed: strength gathered in her legs exploded in an instant, and with a booming crash, the deck’s rebound propelled her to an extraordinary velocity—so fast she could feel the overload herself. In the blink of an eye, she might gut the little pirate before her.

Yet, just as she launched forward, a warning instinct flared—an ear-piercing sound split the air behind her!

A slash? But there was nothing behind her!

An’s feet, not yet fully airborne, twisted with unnatural agility, redirecting her momentum; her waist contorted, and her upper body spun aside.

She then glimpsed the source of the attack: two gleaming straight swords plunged down at a steep angle, passing perilously close to her chest and back.

Had she not twisted so deftly, she’d be skewered by those deadly blades.

With twin thuds, the swords embedded themselves hilt-deep in the deck.

In that split second, she caught a glimpse of Qiu Bai’s face—what kind of attack was this? Was he responsible?

Yet, before the thought could be completed, another sword, seeming to emerge from below the deck, thrust up at almost the same angle and direction, aimed straight for her abdomen.

Before the blade even arrived, its chill seemed to pierce her flesh; suspended midair, twisted and powerless, she had no way to dodge.

Long or short, thick or thin, straight or curved—when it came to weaponry, Qiu Bai had them all. These attacks did not appear out of thin air; he could summon weapons at will from his personal armory.

In this way, Qiu Bai was deserving of the title “sharpshooter,” and his unexpected assault was perfect for dealing with enemies unaccustomed to such tactics.

For attacks from all directions were, indeed, the most impossible to predict.