One Piece: Pirate King? I just want to kill all of you-Chapter 39: Who Allowed You to Look Up and Stare at Me, You Filthy Mongrel!

Chapter 39 - Who Allowed You to Look Up and Stare at Me, You Filthy Mongrel!

The Kingdom of the Bridge, Tequila Wolf.

Here, wind and snow intertwined, a thick fog blanketing the air, turning what should have been a clear sky into something oppressively dim.

The bridgehead was cluttered with piles of construction materials and machinery, flanked on both sides by towering streetlamps that cast a faint glow across the expanse of the bridge.

A throng of people, clad in thin, tattered clothes and shackled at the ankles with heavy iron balls, shuffled aimlessly across the bridge's surface.

These were all prisoners of the Kingdom of the Bridge.

Their eyes were devoid of light, as though they were nothing more than walking corpses.

Endlessly repeating their grueling labor, they toiled in silence, awaiting the day death would finally claim them.

And surrounding these figures were overseers—soldiers dressed in thick padded uniforms, rifles slung across their backs, gripping long whips tightly in their hands.

Crack!

At that moment, near the edge of the bridge, an overseer standing by a streetlamp lashed out viciously, striking a passing slave across the back.

"Move faster! Do you still want to eat or not?!"

The middle-aged man who took the blow staggered, his legs buckling from the pain.

The timber he'd been carrying on his shoulder crashed to the ground with a loud thud.

The overseer's expression darkened in an instant. He stormed over, snarling as he unleashed a flurry of brutal lashes.

"You damned slave! Can't even hold a piece of wood steady! Utterly useless trash!"

"If you delay the bridge's construction, I'll beat you to death!"

Most of the surrounding slaves paid no heed, choosing to ignore the scene—a sight they'd long grown accustomed to.

Even the few who dared to sneak a glance, their eyes flickering with a trace of conflict, ultimately forced themselves to look away, suppressing whatever stirred within.

All but one!

Just then, the overseer heard a sharp whistle of wind behind him, as if something had streaked past.

He stopped mid-swing, whipping his head around to scan the area, but saw nothing.

Even so, an uneasy feeling gnawed at him.

He started to step aside to investigate more closely when—

His body suddenly froze, eyes widening in terror, as though some fearsome predator had locked onto him.

Instinctively, he jerked his head upward, and there, against the hazy glow of the streetlamp above, he saw it.

Perched atop the lamppost stood a towering figure.

The overseer squinted against the light, catching sight of the man atop the lamp. Shock seized him, and he stumbled back two steps, mouth agape, rooted to the spot.

Those cold, indifferent eyes stared down at him as if he were already a corpse, sending a chill coursing through his entire body.

Snapping out of his daze, the overseer trembled violently.

He fumbled for the rifle on his back, raising it with shaking hands as he bellowed a stern warning:

"Who the hell are you?! How dare you trespass into the Kingdom of the Bridge?!"

"Get down here right now!"

His shouts immediately drew the attention of the slaves laboring nearby, their gazes shifting toward the commotion.

Will stood atop the streetlamp, arms crossed, his voice colder than the swirling wind and snow around them:

"Who allowed you to look up and stare at me, you filthy mongrel!"

The words had barely left his mouth when—

Will's figure vanished into the storm, as though everything had been a mere illusion.

"Where'd he go?!"

The overseer's eyes widened, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped his rifle tighter, frantically searching left and right.

"Deep breaths. The dizziness is normal."

Suddenly, a voice like a whisper from the depths of hell slithered into the overseer's ears from behind.

His body locked up entirely, raw terror flooding his eyes.

Before he could even turn, his vision spun wildly, and then everything began to fade into darkness.

He didn't even have time to register the dizziness.

As the overseer's neck was effortlessly snapped, he crumpled lifelessly into the snow.

The slaves, long numbed to their reality, couldn't suppress a flicker of astonishment crossing their faces.

Almost instinctively, their eyes darted toward the tall, muscular man with a chiseled face—his expression cold and impassive, hands hanging loosely at his sides.

Seeing that detached look on his face, every slave froze in place, not daring to make a move, terrified of provoking this sudden, wild intruder.

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None of them were naive enough to think he'd come to save them.

Or perhaps their hearts had grown so numb that they no longer dared to hope for rescue.

Thanks to the blinding snowstorm and the sheer breadth of the bridge, the other overseers stationed further off hadn't yet noticed the disturbance.

Will paid no mind to the reactions around him. His eyes swept the area once before he asked in a flat, emotionless tone:

"Does anyone know the specifics of the Kingdom of the Bridge's interior? Step forward and tell me."

At his words, the slaves stiffly turned their heads, exchanging bewildered glances, their eyes clouded with confusion.

Then, a bald man with whip scars etched across his face pushed his way out of the crowd.

He looked up at Will with a numb expression, a flicker of thought stirring in his mind, before speaking in a low, gravelly voice:

"You're probably here to save someone, right?"

"It's pointless. Whoever you're trying to rescue is most likely already dead."

"Even if they're not, with so many slaves on this bridge, you'd never find them."

"Leave now, before those powerful guys catch wind of you."

"Oh?"

Will's eyes glinted briefly, ignoring the man's advice as he pressed on:

"Those 'powerful guys' you mentioned—where are they?"

"You're not here to save someone...?"

The bald man blinked, a trace of surprise breaking through his stoic demeanor.

Seeing Will's unshaken composure, he let out an inward sigh, his expression reverting to its dull numbness as he continued:

"Fine. Since you're so keen to know, I'll tell you everything I've got."

"This is the construction zone of the bridge. There aren't any heavy hitters guarding this area right now."

"Because beneath the bridgehead, there are always a dozen or so Marine warships docked year-round. No one can escape from here."

"So the really strong Marine officers are mostly stationed at the 'reinforcement zone' further back."

"That area's bigger, and there are way more slaves there too."

He paused, as if something had just occurred to him, hesitating briefly before adding:

"Actually, there's been a rumor going around the past couple of days. Word is, some big shot showed up at the reinforcement zone."

"According to whispers from slaves over there—"

"Even the two strongest Marine officers act all groveling and cautious around this VIP."

"I don't know if it's true or not, but since I've already said this much, I might as well spill it all."

"What you do with this info—whether you still want to head deeper into the bridge—isn't my problem."

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