The crowd heard Gral's plea, and inwardly they all sneered. "What a shameless bastard. Spends his whole life picking fights with the militia, and now that he's in trouble, he comes crawling to them for help."
Gral had tossed aside any pretense of dignity. What good was pride compared to staying alive? Lose your face, you can always pick it back up. Lose your life, and that's it. Game over.
The two militia men were torn. They honestly didn't know whether they should step in and save Gral. Sure, the man had done more than his fair share of evil. But he was still a resident of this island. By law and custom, he fell under their protection.
Yet helping scum like him left a bitter taste in their mouths.
"What are you waiting for? Get over here and save me! Can't you see these two pirates are about to kill me?"
Seeing the militia hesitate, Gral screamed at them.
But it wasn't just Gral who noticed their hesitation. Shirakawa did too.
"Since you two can't seem to make up your minds, allow me to decide for you."
Without another word, Shirakawa blurred behind the pair and delivered two swift chops to the back of their necks. Predictably, they crumpled to the ground, out cold.
"Job done." Shirakawa dusted off his hands.
"Well then. No one left to save you now, is there?"
Jora fixed Gral with a predatory stare.
"Captain, I wasn't sure what to do with him. But now that you're here, I'll leave it to you."
"Kill him. His brother already died by my hand anyway."
"That explains it. No wonder he wanted to wrap me up as a present for you. You're the one who started all this trouble."
Jora conveniently forgot that he'd been the one to wreck the man's weapon shop first.
"Oh? All that big talk for such a weakling."
Gral's blood ran cold as he listened to the casual exchange between Shirakawa and Jora. They were deciding his fate like it was nothing.
"No. I can't stay here. I need to run. Now."
His mind raced, and his body followed. His form began to dissolve into flour, scattering in an attempt to flee. But right at that moment, an old woman stepped out of a nearby house and dumped a basin of filthy water straight onto his scattering form.
The sword wave Jora had been about to unleash fizzled before it even left the blade.
"Well, looks like I don't even need to lift a finger." Jora sighed, half amused and half annoyed that someone else had beaten him to the punch.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry! I didn't know you boys were fighting out here."
The old woman froze when she realized every pair of eyes in the street was fixed on her. All she'd done was toss out some dirty water. Why was everyone staring? If she'd splashed someone, a simple sorry should fix it, right?
Panicked, she didn't even wait to apologize. She spun around, scurried back inside, locked the door, and yanked the curtains shut. A moment later, a tiny gap appeared between the fabric panels as she peered out at the scene.
Drenched in filthy water, Gral stood there in a daze. "Who am I? Where am I? What's happening?"
Three giant question marks floated over his head. The last thing he'd ever expected was to be stopped dead in his tracks by a random civilian.
"Wow. Just how many enemies do you have? Even the locals can't stand the sight of you."
Shirakawa knew perfectly well that the water had been a complete accident. Still, he figured he might as well twist the knife a little before the end.
"Damn you!"
Gral suddenly lunged toward the old woman's house, rage blinding him. But Jora was faster, cutting him off before he could take two steps.
"Knew you were up to no good." Soaked as he was, the flour had turned to clumpy paste. Elemental transformation was off the table. Jora didn't even need Armament Haki to cut him now.
"The boss is done for! He's not invincible anymore! Run!"
Witnessing their leader getting manhandled, Gral's underlings immediately turned tail and scattered. In the span of a heartbeat, the street was empty save for Shirakawa, Jora, Gral, and the two unconscious militia men.
Jora followed up with another slash, this one carving into Gral's arm. He held back on any real technique or killing intent; otherwise, the limb would have come clean off.
"Please! I'm begging you! Spare my life!" Realizing he was utterly outmatched, Gral dropped to his knees before Jora.
"Begging me won't do you any good."
Jora tilted his head toward Shirakawa, making it clear who actually called the shots.
"I beg you! Please, I'm begging you! Let me live!"
Gral caught on quickly, shuffling on his knees across the ground until he was at Shirakawa's feet.
"You know, right now, you actually look pretty pitiful."
Shirakawa crouched down to meet his eyes.
"But if you think that'll make me spare you, you're dreaming."
With that, Shirakawa slammed Gral's head straight into the pavement. It lodged there with a sickening crunch.
He'd done a quick mental exercise earlier, putting himself in Gral's shoes. If he were the one begging for mercy, Gral sure as hell wouldn't show him any. So why should he?
"Captain, when did you get so brutal?"
That last hit had likely ended Gral then and there, or left him close enough that it didn't matter. Unconscious, skull likely cracked, bleeding out from earlier wounds.
"Brutal? I've always been this way. You just haven't noticed. Give it time. You'll get used to it."
Shirakawa spoke flatly. He'd never imagined he'd become so numb to violence.
"Shame about that Logia fruit, though. What a waste on a guy like him."
"No kidding."
It wasn't that the power itself was weak. Gral had just never bothered to develop it properly.
"Can't blame anyone but himself. Got a taste of 'invincibility' and decided he was king of the world. Got complacent. Arrogant. If he'd actually set sail as a real pirate, things might've turned out different."
They weren't mourning Gral. They were mourning the Devil Fruit, a power that would soon seek a new host without ever having reached its true potential. Hopefully the next user would do more with it.
As the saying goes: there are no weak Devil Fruits, only weak users.
A short while later, the two militia men stirred. They rubbed the back of their heads and groggily took in their surroundings.
"What... what happened?" The street was empty except for Shirakawa and Jora.
"Relax. Gral's been dealt with. Just tell your superiors you got knocked out. It'll make for an easier report."
The two men actually thanked Shirakawa for the advice. It felt strange, thanking the same guy who'd just knocked them cold.
"But I'd rather not have you two tailing me anymore. Until we meet again."
With that, Shirakawa vanished from sight.
The two militiamen stood there, blinking at each other, at a loss.
"So... what do we do now?"
"We report back. Captain will understand."
"What about Gral?"
"We'll take the body. He's dead or close to it. Can't just leave him here to rot."
"Fine."
/-\
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