One Piece: Revenge of the Slaves

The fish-men's assumed enemies were pirates, not villagers. Even pirates rarely possessed so many firearms. The fish-men feared nothing in close combat. But firearms and cannons were different. Gunpowder-propelled metal delivered an unstoppable punishment. Besides Arlong, perhaps only Hatchan could withstand the volley of eighty muskets.

Kuroobi, hit by over a dozen shots, surprisingly survived; he rolled over, shouting, "How dare you! How dare you resist us?!" He couldn't believe the villagers had eighty muskets, ambushing them!

To fish-men, humans were inferior; weaker, less resilient, needing tools to sail; even Devil Fruit users were often countered by fish-man karate's water expulsion technique. Humans were at a disadvantage; individual combat strength couldn't match fish-men…at the lower levels.

Fish-men's low birthrate doomed them in the struggle for survival. Humans, initially weak, possessed an unparalleled drive to become stronger; countless people like Zoro strived for strength; could the fish-men and merfolk find twenty such individuals? Impossible. Even Arlong, seeing his advantage, chose to escape, fleeing to the weakest area, becoming a local boss. Did he train? Did the fish-men train?

Relying on their natural gifts, they were helpless against diligent geniuses. History crushed them; ordinary people, with mass-produced firearms, could now hunt whales and topple elephants.

The villagers gasped for breath in the forest, inhaling the gunpowder fumes; the irritant made them cough. They coughed, cried, breathed deeply, and cheered, "We did it! We killed fish-men!"

They were quickly silenced. "Quiet! It's only seven or eight; don't attract Arlong!"

"Reload! Finish them off!" Seeing Kuroobi still alive, they hurriedly reloaded.

Kuroobi realized they were serious! He caught some bullets, but more struck him, damaging his organs; bleeding from his mouth and nose, he crawled towards Arlong. The weak humans had changed; he recalled ferocious human pirates from the Grand Line.

"Arlong…Arlong…" he mumbled, his consciousness fading; Beware! They're not sheep anymore! They're wolves!

"Kill him!" The villagers, armed with pitchforks, gathered, encouraging each other; their voices rose. "Kill him!" Old men, children, women—all shouted. Pitchforks pierced his weakened body, tearing through his organs. Life left him; his eyes glazed over.

Upon seeing his death, the villagers cheered, raising their guns. "We won!!!"

Cocoyasi Village didn't involve children; even old people participated; children were sheltered in Nojiko's house. The villagers roared; this victory gave them immense confidence.

"Clean up the bodies! Cover the blood! Prepare for more fish-men!" Alistair shouted from the forest, bringing them back to reality; they looked at him with respect and awe; he'd ignited their rebellion, provided the tools, taught them to overcome adversity; he showed them that the weak weren't always weak, the strong weren't always strong. He'd led them to victory without lifting a finger.

"Reload, clean up, quickly! Boy, go back to Arlong; tell Arlong the truth! They were ambushed; four or five are dead!"

"Got it!" The boy, exhilarated, his face flushed, was ready to go.

This victory brought more than just triumph—confidence, hope, ambition…

"Go! Hurry!" Alistair urged the boy, then another group.

From initial incomprehension to acceptance, they understood Alistair's actions. He didn't explain, but his actions showed: I can help, but this is your war; you must help yourselves. Did he have an obligation? No. But he came, bringing firearms. Cocoyasi Village needed to show their resolve!

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