Criminals! The six non-bounty hunters on the list were all former criminals!
The warship sailed across the open sea. The journey proceeded without incident, and after three days, a small island emerged on the horizon.
Barbaro Island, also known as Barbaro Village. The island's inhabitants were primarily self-sufficient, relying on fishing to make their living.
"A peaceful, tranquil little island," Wilder remarked, standing at the bow as the massive black-and-red warship slowly approached a sandy beach situated behind the main village.
The group disembarked, leaving a trail of scattered footprints on the sand as they headed towards the village proper.
Inside Barbaro Village, the fishermen were just returning with their catch. Laughter and cheerful chatter filled the air near the village entrance as families reunited and children played noisily. It was a scene of perfect harmony.
The slightly discordant sound of approaching footsteps drew the villagers' attention, shattering the peaceful atmosphere.
A group of outsiders walked towards them, stopping at the village entrance. The tall man leading them possessed an imposing, commanding presence. His eyes scanned the villagers, and then he offered a warm smile.
"Where is Sacren?" Wilder asked, his smile genial as his gaze swept over the villagers.
"Who are you people?!" the villagers snapped back to reality, eyeing Wilder and his crew warily.
"If you're pirates, then get the hell out of here immediately!" another villager chimed in sharply.
Interestingly, the villagers' eyes showed none of the typical fear or panic one might expect from civilians encountering pirates. Instead, Wilder saw a distinct confidence radiating from them—a self-assurance clearly forged through experience over time. Or perhaps 'backing' was a more fitting term.
They… did not fear pirates.
Wilder's eyes flickered briefly, then settled back into calm impassivity. Ignoring the unified front of hostility presented by the villagers, he suddenly began walking forward, his unhurried footsteps echoing loudly in the now tense silence.
"Tell me, where is Sacren?" He stopped directly in front of one villager and, with effortless strength, reached out and lifted the man clear off the ground, holding him overhead. Wilder looked up, his gaze ice-cold as he stared into the man's eyes.
"What do you think you're doing?! Let Gar go!" The villagers surged forward angrily. One particularly sturdy-looking man rushed to the front, glaring furiously at Wilder.
Wilder's cold gaze flickered sideways towards the sturdy man. The villager froze instantly, breaking out in a cold sweat, taking an involuntary step backward.
"Let him go." The crowd parted as another man walked forward. He was powerfully built, with a sharp buzz cut, wearing a worn, sleeveless shirt.
"I am Sacren," the man stated, looking up at Wilder, his expression serious.
"Sacren's here! That's great!"
"Sacren, drive these pirates out of our village!"
Seeing the well-built man arrive, the villagers' underlying confidence surged. They raised their fists and shouted encouragement, having definitively labeled Wilder and his crew as hostile pirates.
"Everyone, quiet down, please." Sacren seemed to hold considerable authority here. He simply raised a hand, and the villagers immediately fell silent. Seeing them calm down, Sacren let out an internal sigh of relief. He then turned his eyes towards Wilder.
"Heh…" Wilder released the villager he was holding. Turning, he instantly closed the distance, standing directly before Sacren, looming over him. His large coat billowed behind him. Wilder ignored the surrounding villagers, who were gradually closing in again, his entire focus fixed solely on Sacren.
After a long, charged pause, Wilder spoke a single phrase: "Join Black Serpent."
The words hung in the air. Sacren's pupils flickered, his expression shifting rapidly, filled with uncertainty. The villagers remained silent for a moment, then erupted in uproar, glaring daggers at Wilder.
"What the hell are you saying?! The Black Serpent Pirates, is it?! Why would Sacren ever join you! He's a bounty hunter! Get out of our village, now!"
"Sacren, what are you hesitating for?! Just beat scum like this!"
The world is never short of people who fail to grasp the reality of their situation, much like the villagers of Barbaro Island at this moment.
Wilder's crew reacted instantly, drawing their swords and leveling their firearms, aiming directly at the crowd of villagers. The atmosphere became incredibly tense.
"You know I don't want to kill anyone…" Wilder said, still ignoring the surrounding villagers, his eyes fixed on Sacren, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.
Sacren's face contorted with internal struggle. After a long moment, he powerlessly unclenched his fists, the tension seeming to drain from his body completely.
"I understand…" he finally conceded.
"Nyahahaha!" Wilder suddenly burst into loud laughter. He clapped Sacren firmly on the shoulder. "Don't worry. From now on, this island will be under Black Serpent's protection." He turned and began walking back towards the village entrance.
His gaze swept over the villagers still blocking the path. Everyone instinctively flinched back, parting to create a clear path. Wilder strode through them as if they weren't there, a smirk playing on his lips, radiating an aura of absolute, domineering power and dignity.
"Sacren! Why did you agree to him?!" Only after Wilder and his dozens of crew members had disappeared from sight did the villagers finally snap out of their stupor, turning to Sacren with faces full of disbelief and accusation.
Sacren stared blankly in the direction Wilder had departed. He only seemed to register the villagers' questions as they crowded around him. He glanced at them, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, followed by a self-deprecating smile.
"What else could I do…? Do any of you even realize who that was?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Warlord Wilder."
With that, he turned and began walking in the direction Wilder had gone, leaving behind a crowd of utterly stunned villagers.
His voice drifted back faintly, "If I hadn't agreed… everyone… we would have all died just now."
As Sacren's words sank in, the villagers finally grasped the gravity of the situation. Cold sweat drenched their clothes.
"Why… why would someone like that come to a place like this…?" one villager stammered, gazing fearfully towards the village entrance, swallowing hard, his voice trembling.
Their arrival had been swift, and their departure was equally so. The black-and-red warship quickly pulled away from the island shore. The only difference from its arrival was the addition of one new member to its roster.
Wilder didn't intend to waste much time on this recruitment drive. Although he had selected only twelve primary candidates for this initial list, there were other options, even potentially stronger individuals available. However, the current priority was resolving the leadership vacuum on the twelve occupied islands, freeing up Vice and the other executives. Therefore, he focused only on securing suitable candidates for now. Sacren was one of those twelve.
Aboard the ship, the massive black anaconda lay coiled around the main mast, its body occasionally shifting. Its menacing head pointed downwards, its unblinking eyes seeming to watch something unseen below.
Wilder sat at the bow of the ship, the sea breeze gently ruffling his hair. His expression was calm as he gazed out towards the distant ocean horizon.
Sacren walked up and sat down beside him.
"Want a drink?" Wilder asked without turning his head.
"No."
Wilder nodded, saying nothing further, continuing to stare out at the sea. Sacren seemed unsure what to say, and Wilder appeared completely captivated by the ocean. A quiet moment passed between them.
After several minutes…
"Looks like we've got a big one coming," Wilder suddenly remarked, a slight smirk touching his lips, though his eyes remained calm as still water.
Sacren was startled for a moment, then nodded. He stood up, facing the sea. Two wicked-looking Tiger Claw weapons materialized in his hands, seemingly from nowhere.
Wilder glanced briefly at the weapons, then looked away. Even seated, his imposing frame was no shorter than the standing Sacren.
"Ten o'clock," Wilder stated calmly.
"Mm," Sacren acknowledged with a nod, his expression turning serious.