Chapter 33: Savage Scar

"Don't push your luck, kid!"

Scar-Face was stunned for a moment before erupting in a rage, grabbing Luffy by the collar. "To think you'd dare say you don't know us! How can you even say that with a straight face? Do you have any idea how much food you've stolen from us these past few days?"

"Food?"

Luffy racked his brain, then suddenly widened his eyes. "Mister, are you talking about those roasted meats? Those were yours?"

"What else would they be!"

Scar-Face grew even more irritated, roaring so hard that spit sprayed all over Luffy's face. "Do you think roasted meat just grows out of the ground?"

"But I didn't see anyone around," Luffy said, looking blank. "So I just picked them up. I thought they were cooked by the wild beasts in the mountains."

It sounded absurd, but Luffy wasn't lying.

Gorillas that fish, monkeys that brew wine, bears that knit sweaters, cheetahs that build huts in the trees... Mount Colubo was home to all sorts of strange creatures; he had seen all of these with his own eyes. By comparison, beasts that could roast meat seemed perfectly normal—they might even have better culinary skills than most people.

Scar-Face had seen similar things, so he paused, bewildered. "So it was all a misunderstanding? Then why, every time we found our food missing and asked you about it, did you start fighting without saying a word?"

"You guys were all holding weapons, and you were shouting from a distance that you were from the Scar-Face Bandit Gang. It was really scary, Mister!" Luffy said with a pained expression. "I have a bad impression of bandits, even after being adopted by that woman. Anyway... anyway, I hate people who are bandits the most!"

Scar-Face's eye twitched. Does being a bandit eat your rice? It was fortunate that it was just him standing here. If it had been the notorious mountain bandit Higuma, hearing those words would have likely resulted in the kid getting his head twisted right off.

"Forget it, untie the kid." Scar-Face sighed and waved his hand dismissively.

"Really?" Luffy was overjoyed.

"But there's a condition." Scar-Face snorted. "You have a companion, don't you? When is he coming to rescue you?"

"He’s just like you—he stole our food a few times too. Aren't you two brats quite good at fighting? When he gets here, the two of you are going to hunt for me. You'll make up for the meat we lost by five times... no, ten times!"

Ten times?!

Luffy's eyes widened. That was a death sentence! He and Ace had been sent into the mountains by Dadan at Garp's request to train and survive the winter on their own.

Many of the beasts in the mountains were ferocious and hard to hunt; just feeding themselves was a struggle, and now they were expected to provide so much meat?

"Ten times is too much! Six times!"

"Nine times. I'll take a little off because you're young."

"Five times!"

"Eight times. Absolutely no less than that."

"Three times!"

"Who haggles like that?! You little brat! Go learn some math for once!"

Scar-Face bellowed, nearly fainting from anger. He reached out to stop his subordinate. "Communication is impossible. Don't untie him yet! Let's wait for his partner to show up. I refuse to believe that guy is as brainless as this one."

"Then you might as well untie him now," a voice suddenly came from above. "I'm worried that by the time his partner gets here, you'll have been angered to death again."

"Who's talking!"

Scar-Face's expression changed drastically. He drew his machete and aimed it at the source of the voice, only to see a black-haired boy crouching on the tree above, watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"The mountain bandit with a three-million-berry bounty, Scar-Face?"

Xano shook the wanted poster he had scavenged from the skinny monkey, his gaze shifting back and forth between the paper and the man. "No matter how I look at it, these are two completely different people..."

The Scar-Face on the wanted poster had a sinister gaze and was dripping with fat. The leader in front of him was only slightly stocky, and his features were entirely different. The only similarity was the long scar on their faces.

"Is this photo you?" Xano turned the poster around and pointed at the picture.

"It's me," Scar-Face nodded. "I was very fat back then."

"That's not you!" Xano sneered. "I heard of Scar-Face before I entered these mountains—a man who murders, rapes, and burns. The townsfolk are terrified of that name. If you were really Scar-Face, would this kid still be here jumping around and talking nonsense?"

"And your subordinates, they don't look like bandits at all. Otherwise, three or four of them wouldn't have failed to take down an eight-year-old."

Xano looked around. The dozen or so bandits in the camp were all sallow and emaciated, wearing rags, and their weapons were dilapidated. Only two carried old flintlock pistols; most were just holding sharpened wooden sticks.

Scar-Face was silent for a while before muttering, "...So you figured it out."

"But it's strange, you do have one subordinate whose marksmanship is quite good." Xano threw down the skinny monkey, whom he had gagged with a rag. "If I hadn't dodged fast, he would have shot me right between the eyes."

"Good marksmanship?" Scar-Face stared, looking at the skinny monkey wailing on the ground. He ripped the cloth from the man's mouth and asked, bewildered, "Gin, when did you become a sharpshooter?"

"I'm not! I'm not!" The skinny monkey gasped for air, tears welling up in his eyes now that he could finally speak. "I was aiming for the branch under his feet, trying to make him fall! Who knew, who knew I'd miss by just a little bit..."

From under his feet to between his eyes—that's missing by a "little bit"?! I'm nearly 1.8 meters tall! Xano felt a vein throb in his forehead.

Scar-Face finally understood and hurriedly explained: "Sir, you might have misunderstood. Gin couldn't possibly have shot at your head on purpose! He's not that kind of person, and his aim couldn't possibly be that good!"

"In fact, his marksmanship is a disaster. Everyone we know is aware of that; otherwise, he wouldn't have ended up coming into the mountains with me!"

"He used to be a reserve soldier for the Royal Guard. During the New Year's festival the year before last, he was temporarily pulled up to fire the ceremonial salute. He was supposed to fire into the sky, but he blasted it right into the Queen's face... After that, they broke his leg and dumped him at the Terminal."

They could still be alive after that? Xano listened in disbelief, looked at the aggrieved skinny monkey, and slapped his forehead in silence. "So... you guys aren't really bandits at all? You're all residents from the Terminal?"

He suddenly thought of something, his expression growing complex. "Was your home burned down?"

The Kingdom of Goa had always been hailed as the "most beautiful country in the East Blue." In reality, however, only the surface within the city walls was bright and glamorous; hidden behind high walls, there existed a massive waste-burning facility—the Terminal.

All the filth, garbage, and the desperate people from the lowest rungs of society were concentrated there, gradually evolving into a massive, wretched slum.

Just at the end of last year, the King of Goa, in order to welcome the inspection of the Celestial Dragons, didn't even leave them that last, difficult path to survival. He burned the Terminal along with its residents, treating the poor as "garbage" to be cleared away.

"Yes, it's gone. Everything's gone." Scar-Face looked despondent, his eyes clouded with memories. "Many people died that night. I heard that a group of kind-hearted people called the Revolutionary Army arrived on large ships to take in refugees, but some of us ran south, forced by the fire into Mount Colubo to survive."

"On the outskirts of the mountains, I accidentally stumbled upon the corpse of the real Scar-Face who had been burned to death. So, starting a few months ago, I simply began using his name to operate in the mountains. At least that way, it scares off many other bandits and keeps them from bothering us."

He let out a long sigh, looked up, and gave a bitter smile. "Sir, we don't want to be like this. We're even terrified that if we keep going like this, we'll slowly become real bandits. But, what other choice is there?"