Clack.

Kuro gently placed the receiver down and set the Den Den Mushi on the desk. His expression was dark—like a charcoal sketch come to life.

Click.

Creak—

Just then, the door creaked open, and a man dressed in a butler’s uniform stepped inside.

“Mr. Klahadore(Kuro),” said the man cheerfully. He had a sheep-like curly hairstyle and a white towel draped over his arm. “Miss Kaya is down for her nap.”

This was Merry, a long-time servant of the estate. He had watched Kaya grow up and had cared for her since her parents passed away. His bond with the household ran deep.

Merry rinsed the towel clean and hung it on the rack to dry.

Not hearing a response, he turned curiously toward Klahadore and saw him standing at the window, back turned.

“Mr. Klahadore?” he called again. Something felt… off about the butler today.

At last, Kuro—disguised as Klahadore—adjusted his glasses and turned around, the usual warm smile spreading across his face.

It was that gentle smile and polished demeanor that had earned Klahadore the trust and affection of nearly everyone in Syrup Village.

“Mr. Merry,” Kuro replied apologetically. “Forgive me, I was lost in thought and didn’t hear you.”

“No worries,” Merry said, waving it off. “Is something troubling you? If something’s on your mind, you can talk to me. Perhaps I can help.”

Kuro sighed in feigned frustration. “Honestly, I was just worried about Miss Kaya.”

“What’s wrong?” Merry asked immediately, his expression turning serious.

“You know how it is,” Kuro began, folding his hands behind his back. “Miss Kaya lost both her parents to illness two years ago. She was devastated, and her own frail health has kept her bedridden for most of the time since. She’s hardly stepped outside the estate.”

“That’s true…” Merry nodded gravely.

“And because of that isolation, she’s far too easily influenced by outsiders. Her understanding of the world comes mostly from stories—many of them filled with lies.”

“You mean that boy… Usopp?” Merry recalled the young man clearly—long nose, always climbing up the tree outside Kaya’s window to tell her all sorts of outrageous stories.

“They’re just stories,” Merry said with a shake of his head. “Miss Kaya knows he makes most of them up to amuse her. You don’t need to worry too much.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Kuro said, relenting with a modest nod. Then he bowed slightly. “Well then, I’ll get back to work. If you need anything, Mr. Merry, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

Merry bowed in return, though his eyes lingered on Klahadore as he walked away.

There was something strange about him today—something Merry couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Kuro’s daily life as Klahadore was dull and predictable, revolving entirely around Kaya.

After her nap, the maids would gently wake her, and Kuro himself would bring her the medicine prescribed by the family doctor—just as he had once done for her parents during their final days.

In truth, he wasn’t sure if he had been responsible for the death of Kaya’s parents or not.

Yes—he didn’t know.

He would of course claim innocence to outsiders, but when he asked himself honestly… there was no definitive answer.

For three years, Kuro had played the part of a man completely opposite to his true nature—the loyal butler Klahadore. He carefully cultivated the illusion that would justify his inheritance and transformation from pirate to noble heir.

But deep down, Kuro longed for bloodshed and chaos—even as he dreamed of a peaceful, luxurious retirement.

He had to maintain the façade of a gentle, refined servant while also secretly contacting the Black Cat Pirates, managing their plans from the shadows.

Kuro knew all too well: if he didn’t keep in constant contact with his crew—offering threats and rewards—they would soon abandon him and take to piracy elsewhere.

To survive this double life, Kuro had begun mentally separating Kuro and Klahadore into two distinct personalities.

Each action and decision was assigned to its respective identity, never to be confused. Over time, this mental split gave rise to a form of mild dissociative disorder.

Sometimes, even he couldn’t tell if certain memories were real or imagined.

Three years passed like that—and even Kuro himself didn’t fully understand how he’d made it through.

But it was all worth it for one goal: to erase his past and be reborn as a wealthy heir.

However, today’s communication with Jango’s Den Den Mushi had exposed a flaw in his perfect plan.

Something had happened to the Black Cat Pirates.

After three long years, and just before everything was about to fall into place… they had messed up. Kuro wanted nothing more than to slaughter every last one of those fools.

More importantly, his identity had been exposed.

Which meant—whoever had been on the other end of that call had to die.

How and when? That was the key.

After some thought, Kuro found his answer.

The plan could still go forward—only now, those newcomers would take the place of the Black Cat Pirates. Their fate would be the same in the end.

As long as he handled it cleanly, everything would still end the way he wanted. He would finally have his peaceful life.

That evening, after helping Kaya to sleep and leaving the rest to Merry, Kuro’s butler duties came to an end for the night.

He lay in bed, resting and restoring his strength.

At 1:30 AM, Kuro awoke.

He opened his eyes in the darkness, sat up, and reached for his glasses on the nightstand.

From under his bed, he pulled out a long, narrow case. He unzipped it, inspected the contents, and zipped it shut again.

He stood at his bedroom door, listening carefully for signs of life in the corridor.

Hearing none, he unlocked the door and stepped silently into the pitch-black hallway—then locked it behind him.

Moonlight spilled through the windows, casting a long, stretched shadow behind him.

He slipped out of the mansion, avoiding the main roads of Syrup Village, instead taking a secluded path westward like a ghost drifting through the night.

But unbeknownst to Kuro, despite all his caution, someone had spotted him.

Usopp sat on a tree branch nearby, adjusting his bandana and rubbing his eyes—making sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“That really is Klahadore…” Usopp scratched his long nose, frowning. “What’s he doing out here at this hour? Shouldn’t he be asleep?”

It was pure coincidence that Usopp was there at all. He’d gone out late at night to search for inspiration for a new scary story to tell Kaya.

He’d climbed the tree on a whim—but strange sounds in the dark had kept him wide awake, his senses sharp. He was certain he wasn’t imagining it.

Usopp stroked his chin and grinned.

“Let’s follow him. Maybe he’s sneaking off for a secret date. I’ll tell Kaya tomorrow—show her that Klahadore isn’t the goody-goody she thinks he is. Heh heh…”

He climbed down from the tree and followed at a distance.

Because he kept so far back, Kuro didn’t notice he was being trailed. Once Kuro reached the western shore, his attention turned completely to the sea.

He sat on a stone, tossed his travel bag aside, and waited in silence.

Usopp, hiding in a grove nearby, watched with growing unease. Something felt… wrong.

This didn’t look like a rendezvous with a lover at all.

So then—who was Klahadore waiting for?

Soon, a thick fog began rolling in over the water. The air grew cold and heavy.

Kuro adjusted his glasses out of habit and saw a massive black ship parting the fog and approaching the shore.

His brow furrowed. This wasn’t what he’d expected.

Kuro hated surprises.

From his hiding spot, Usopp was terrified. The scene before him felt like something out of one of his own horror stories.

A man… meeting a ghost ship in the middle of the night… and disappearing forever. What could be more terrifying?

Usopp collapsed to his knees, his legs gone numb with fear. He clamped his hands over his mouth to stop himself from making a sound—terrified the “ghosts” might hear and drag him away.

Moments later, a massive gangplank extended from the ship and landed on the shore with a heavy thud.

Then—

A head floated through the fog… and drifted down onto the beach.

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