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Chapter 938 : A Magic Trick!
🕑 Added 2025-07-20 01:46:43 +0000 UTCThe sun dipped low over the eastern sea, casting orange streaks across the rolling waves. A battered ship with black sails and a jagged skull insignia drifted lazily through the water. Laughter and crude singing spilled from its deck — the unmistakable sound of men who lived without laws. The Iron Fang pirates were celebrating.
Masugi, the ship’s self-proclaimed captain, leaned against the splintered railing, a toothy grin cutting through his bearded, scar-slashed face. He laughed, “Heh! That village was a gift from the sea gods, I tell ya. What was it called again?”
“Kirami,” rasped Rentaro, a wiry man with a long neck and a foul breath that seemed to linger even when he wasn’t speaking. He mocked, “Didn’t even need to draw swords. The cowards just stared, mouths open, pissin’ themselves. One swing, and they were down.”
The deck erupted in laughter.
“Bahaha! Remember that old hag cryin’ over her rice sack?” wheezed Dozan, a barrel-chested brute missing most of his teeth. Raising his voice, he roared, “Begged me to leave her some grain for her sick grandkid. So I took the grain… and tossed her in the well! Hahaha!”
Another chorus of howls and claps followed. Gekizo, a hunchback with knotted muscles and an eyepatch, muttered, “They had nothing, but still managed to scrape up a few gold trinkets. I found ‘em hidden beneath the shrine floor. These peasants always think their gods will save ‘em.”
Masugi chuckled. “Shame we can’t go back for a second round. But we’ve got food, silver, and enough coins to drink for weeks!”
“Aye!” another pirate called, “But none of it… none of it compares to this!”
As if on cue, the crowd parted, and all eyes turned to the four young women huddled near the mast — wrists bound, clothes torn, faces streaked with fear and grime. Their expressions were blank with shock, their backs pressed together as if proximity alone could shield them from what was coming.
Dozan licked his lips. “Feisty little things. One of ‘em even bit me. I like when they fight.”
Rentaro knelt beside one girl and brushed a strand of hair from her face with a mock tenderness that made the others snicker. She recoiled, trembling. “Oh, don’t be shy,” he whispered. “You’ll get used to it…”
Masugi laughed darkly. “Tonight, boys. We drink, we feast… and then we celebrate proper.”
The cheer rose again, rough voices clashing like tankards, when the cabin door creaked open and out waddled a hunched figure in tattered, oversized clothes — Eita, the deckhand no one missed until there was filth to scrub or a storm to bail out of. He awkwardly stepped towards the remaining crew, beaming as if he were returning from a hero’s quest.
“Oh look, the king of barnacles has returned!” jeered Gunji, a squat brute with gold teeth and a belly like a barrel.
“Eh, Eita,” snorted another, “you lose your mop or are you here to pick which lass you want?”
Laughter followed, loud and sharp.
As if unable to understand the mockery, Eita blinked at them, then shook his head eagerly. “No-no, not now! Wait till you see this! I figured out a new trick! Real magic, swear on my nose!”
He held up a sharpened pencil and grinned like a child who had just found treasure, “Watch closely, boys — this one’s gonna blow your boots off!”
With clumsy flourish, he shuffled over to a nearby crate, cleared off a few crumbs and fish bones, and carefully placed the pencil upright. It wobbled slightly, then stood balanced on its sharpened point, aimed at the sky.
“There! Step one complete!” he declared proudly, stepping back with arms raised.
A round of snorts and groans followed.
“That’s it?” Gunji scoffed. “Balancing a stick? What’s next, turning seawater into rum?”
A lanky pirate with greasy dreadlocks clapped mockingly. “Ooooh, magic! Truly, the sea’s blessed us with a wizard!”
But Eita just beamed wider. Shaking his head, he excitedly explained, “No-no, that’s just the first step! You hear? First step. I’ve been practicing in secret for a whole month after watching those mighty ninjas! Now—” he wiggled his fingers theatrically, “now I’ll make this pencil disappear!”
Another wave of laughter erupted.
“You gonna eat it, Eita?” one pirate cackled. Another roared, “Or shove it up your arse!”
“Here, let me help,” said Ibara, the closest to Eita. He strolled over with a sneer, “C’mon, great wizard. Show us how you—”
In one swift, unnatural motion, Eita grabbed the back of Ibara's head and slammed it straight down onto the pencil. Stunned, Ibara failed to even close his mouth as the crude tip shot up through the inside of Ibara’s mouth, punching a hole through the soft palate and into his brain.
Moments later, Ibara's body collapsed on the deck with a heavy thud! The sound echoed like cannon fire in the sudden silence. Laughter died. Movement stopped. Eyes widened.
Every pirate on deck stood frozen, caught somewhere between disbelief and horror. A few blinked rapidly, as if unwilling to believe that the person who they mocked as a fool for years killed one of their strongest comrades. Even the four terrified girls flinched, their already-frayed nerves pushed to breaking.
Then, in the dead silence, Eita beamed.
“Ta-da! See? Pencil’s gone.” He dusted his hands. “Now then…”
Masugi stormed forward, face red with fury, “Are you mad, Eita?! What in the hells did you just do?!”
Gunji dropped beside the corpse, face pale. He stared at the pencil lodged deep in the mouth. Tentatively, he reached to check for breath, then pulled back, expression grim.
“…His pulse’s gone,” he muttered.
A storm of voices broke loose.
“What the hell is going on?!”
“He killed Ibara—he killed him!”
“Someone get a rope!”
“Grab the bastard—tie him down!”
The sound of swords being drawn filled the deck as half a dozen pirates began closing in, eyes wild and weapons raised.
Unaffected by his captain's rage and the fury of his comrades, Eita maintained his grin, “Whoa! Hold it! It's fine! It's fine! This magic still has 2 more steps! On the last step, he'll be as good as new and stronger than ever! But first…”
Eita raised his right arm slightly, with his thumb and middle finger touching each other. He snapped loudly. In a blink, the four girls collapsed like puppets with cut strings. Gunji fell limp beside Ibara’s corpse.
Once again, the pirates were left stunned. They could follow Eita's movements when Ibara died. But now? None of them could understand how Gunji and the girls collapsed. It almost felt like they were in a choreographed show, but Ibara's dead body still lay on the deck. None of them dared to continue moving towards Eita anymore.
Masugi frowned, a chill running down his spine as he wondered, ‘What in the blazes…? This fool?’
Eight years ago, he’d let Eita aboard for laughs — a halfwit to mock, a clown to keep morale high. The idiot never even realized they were laughing at him, not with him. And now?
Masugi questioned, ‘What the hell am I looking at? He isn’t the same bumbling deck rat. Something is wrong. Very wrong!’
None of the pirates noticed the subtle twitch of Eita’s fingers as he formed a quick hand seal. Black markings spread from the edge of his sleeve, spiraling around his arm before extending onto the deck in a wide circular array. A symbol formed around Gunji, who was still unconscious, and the lifeless body of Ibara. However, the untrained eyes of the pirates failed to see a single marking!
A small cut opened up on Eita's thumb, as he bent down, placed his hand on the deck, and exclaimed loudly, “Arise!”
Gunji's body trembled violently. The intense pain broke the Genjutsu he was under. Unfortunately, it didn't ease the pain. He screamed. A raw, blood-curdling scream — one that sent a jolt through even the hardest among them.
His spine arched, fingers clawing at the deck, mouth gaping wide in agony. It was as if something inside him was being peeled away. The pirates stumbled back, shouting, weapons half-drawn in pure instinct, but useless in the face of what they didn’t understand.
His paper-like skin peeled and reformed. The pirates witnessed as not only Gunji's face and body were looking more like Ibara, but his clothes also changed into what Ibara was wearing! Suddenly, the screams stopped, as Gunji, now with Ibara's appearance and attire, stood lifelessly with a hollow look in his eyes.
The pirates stood frozen. Not one dared to move. Not even their captain, Masugi.
Still smiling, Eita stepped forward and drew a kunai. Its handle was tightly bound with a talisman, glowing faintly with sealing script. With no change in expression, he plunged the kunai into the back of Ibara’s head.
The moment it pierced flesh, Ibara’s body stiffened, his eyes gained light. His mouth curled into a grin as he looked down at his hands in wonder.
“Wooooo! I’M BACK, BABY!!” he howled, raising both arms as if returning from a grand vacation. “You saw that, right?! That was insane! One second I’m kissing the deck, the next — bam! Good as new!”
Eita smacked his back and proudly exclaimed, “See! I told you! Good as new! Now, who wants to go next?”
Comments
Devil Hex
Writing ✍️
Ren
👀
Rubén López
That would be very out of place, and quite perverse. Edo tensei erupts with death; it's not the best jutsu for something like that. And Fujin isn't the Ninshu type.
