chest of his adversary, piercing flesh as though it were tissue paper. In spite of his fear, he was able to laugh. He was laughing out of pure relief – forget Morrigan Rassallion, the 300,000 berry man, he had just stabbed Ragnarok the Destroyer! Imagine the rewards he could get for such a man, if not the marines then the pirates! All rational sense was gone, there was only the need to pull out and thrust in with his blade, over and over with animal yells as his face and the ground around him were spattered with blood until at last his arm gave way to fatigue and his breath came in short, sputtering rasps, his mouth and throat clogged with blood. All the while, Ragnarok the Destroyerdid not move from his position. He made no sound beyond what he could not control of his body, and simply, waited.

“I'm disappointed in you, Futtleschuckle,” he said. “Very, disappointed.” The man's blood froze in his veins, instant liquid nitrogen sold at 500 berries a gallon. He looked up and saw the man he had killed rising up, standing tall with eyes as red as the blood that had just been spilled piercing into his gaunt face. It wasn't possible, how was this man still alive? How could anyone still be alive after that? There had been so much blood! So many wounds! How was he still standing? The man slumped forward but his neck stayed craned upward, as unable to be pulled away from those eyes as