Sako's hand slipped from Barn's grasp, falling limply to the ground. His eyes shut forever. The life that had just been breathing in front of him vanished without warning—and Barn, unable to hold back any longer, burst into uncontrollable sobs.
"No! No! Sako! You still owe me that grilled fish you caught yourself, damn it! Get up, don't you dare ghost me like this!"
Barn screamed and howled without end—until...
"Oh? There's another one here? A kid? Haha, come here. Uncle wants to play a little game. Don't worry, it won't hurt... hahaha."
The voice dripped with mockery and condescension. Barn's mind flashed back to the lifeless body of Sako in his arms. A glint of cold killing intent sparked in his hollow eyes.
"You're asking for it! Fitz!"
Fitz understood instantly. He took off from Barn's shoulder and circled behind the pirate, chirping twice before flying to the ceiling of the cabin.
Barn drew his second-generation Oni Blade, closed his eyes, tilted his head slightly, and swung his sword in the direction of the voice in the darkness.
"Evil Light Slash!"
A white arc of energy tore through the dark—the pirate was cleaved cleanly in half in an instant.
Barn didn't pause. He shouted, "Fitz, we're moving!"
Fitz flew out of the cabin, and Barn followed with three sliding steps, his blade still drawn—executing the Ghost Swordsman's signature movement skill from DNF: Triple Slash.
Outside, Fitz circled above the Rumba Pirates' ship, letting out sharp chirps. With every cry, a blade of light would flash—and another life was taken.
Barn now resembled a demon god risen from the depths of hell, cloaked in blood. His once-silver coat was now crimson. He danced across the deck like a blade-wielding waltzer in a grotesque ballet of slaughter.
With Fitz acting as his eyes, Barn unleashed a powerful Earthquake Sword Wave, finishing off the pirate Plank who had been grappling with Yorki. And then—the rain began to fall.
The battle came to an end.
Barn stared blankly at the sky with his lifeless eyes. Rain mixed with tears and blood streamed down his face in silence.
When the rain ceased, the battle—thanks to Barn's intervention—was won. Most of the crew only suffered minor injuries, a few were seriously wounded. But Sako... Sako was gone.
Barn knelt beside Sako's body. No one on deck spoke a word. Brook placed a hand on Barn's shoulder, sighed, then picked up his violin and began to play a Requiem.
"One day, I'll have to let go.Of the gentle soul who once smiled so warmly...Stardust dancing in those crystal tears...Sunset skies, deep blue nights,Each day we shared is etched in my soul..."
In his past life, Barn had just been an ordinary shut-in. He had never experienced anything like this before. Hearing the sorrowful melody, he broke into tears once more. Fitz hopped onto his shoulder and gently wiped his tears with its wing.
Yorki walked over, knelt beside Sako's body, then looked at Barn. He took a deep breath and said calmly, "This... is what being a pirate means."
He meant it as comfort, but Barn exploded at the words. In front of the stunned crew, Barn punched Yorki square in the face. Yorki stumbled back four or five steps before falling to the deck, clutching his nose and staring in shock.
"What the hell do you mean 'this is just how it is'?! All I know is that my friend Sako is dead! He promised to grill me the fish he caught tonight—now he's gone! I'll never hear his voice again! How can you be so damn calm?! Weren't you his friend too?! If being a pirate means throwing away your humanity—then I want no part of it!"
Barn's voice was hoarse, his throat raw from shouting, tears still streaming down his face.
Yorki opened his mouth, but said nothing. Mundo quietly began tending to the injury on Yorki's face.
Smack!Brook stopped playing. He walked over and slapped Barn across the face.
"That's enough, Barn!"
Fitz saw his master get slapped and flapped his wings furiously, chirping angrily as he prepared to peck Brook's face.
"Fitz, we're leaving."
Hearing his master's quiet command, Fitz gave up the idea of attacking Brook. He flew onto Barn's head, turned around, and flashed a tiny wing shaped like a fist at Brook before entering the cabin with Barn.
The rest of the crew silently dispersed.
Brook carried away Sako's body.
Soon, the sound of the Requiem drifted once more across the ship.
That night, Barn couldn't sleep. He lay on the crow's nest, staring 'up' at the stars. Fitz dozed on his head. In truth, Barn couldn't see the stars at all. He was just spacing out—maybe trying to stop himself from crying again.
Then, through the still of night, he heard a soft, choked sobbing.
He sat up, scanning for the source of the sound—until his gaze locked onto the captain's quarters.