Chapter 162: 162. The Red Hair Wants To Spoil The Situation

Words : 1265 Updated : Oct 2nd, 2025

Check out advanced chapters on P@treon: [email protected]/CosmicKaminari ---------- New World, a winter island. "Hoo hoo..." The wind howled through the barren landscape, carrying with it a relentless chill. Snow fell in scattered flurries, blanketing the island in a harsh white layer. The bitter cold seeped through even the thickest of clothing, forcing anyone braving the elements to shiver, no matter how bundled up they were. Yet, in a cave nestled within the icy expanse, the flickering warmth of a fire cast dancing shadows on the walls. Inside, the raucous sounds of laughter and lively conversation filled the air. The Red-Haired Pirates, undeterred by the freezing conditions outside, were in the midst of a spirited banquet. The warmth of camaraderie and overflowing mugs of sake drowned out the harsh reality of the winter storm. Amid the revelry, Shanks, captain of the Red-Haired Pirates and the heartbeat of the gathering, sat apart from the chaos. A recent newspaper lay unfolded in his lap, and his expression—usually carefree and jovial—was unusually solemn. His eyes scanned the headlines, his thoughts elsewhere despite the festive atmosphere. "Shanks, I just got word from Sister Shakky!" The shout came from Building Snake, the ship's navigator, who burst into the cave clutching another newspaper. "What's the news? Did the captain go bothering Mrs. Shakky for information again?" someone teased from the crowd. "Hohohoho! Seriously, you're like a kid begging for answers!" The crew's laughter echoed in the cave, their banter evidence of the easy camaraderie shared among them. It was a dynamic that set the Red-Haired Pirates apart—Shanks was their captain, but more importantly, their friend and equal. Shanks, however, didn't join in the jokes this time. He set the newspaper aside, taking the letter Bendik handed him. As his eyes scanned the message, the flickering firelight revealed a deepening furrow in his brow. By the time he finished reading, a grim look of surprise and concern settled on his face. Standing beside him, Benn Beckman, Shanks' right-hand man and the crew's strategist, leaned in to read over the captain's shoulder. His sharp gaze darkened as he digested the contents. "This is escalating quickly," he muttered. "Now even Whitebeard is getting involved. Are we looking at a full-blown war with the the Flying General?" "Hmph. Doesn't sound like our problem," grumbled Lucky Roux from his spot near the fire. The rotund pirate tore into a roasted leg of meat with gusto. "As long as it doesn't mess with us, let them fight their battles." Yasopp, methodically polishing his beloved rifle, chimed in. "Exactly. We've got our own plans, don't we? The Four Emperors' balance is shifting—this might be the chance we've been waiting for. With everything we've built up in the New World, we can finally make some big moves." The confidence in Yasopp's voice was unmistakable. The Red-Haired Pirates were no mere second-rate crew from Paradise. Shanks had honed his crew's strength and sharpened their skills over years of sailing the Grand Line. Among them, Haki was second nature—many had even mastered advanced techniques of Armament Haki, wielding it with precision and power. Still, Shanks remained quiet, his gaze locked on the letter in his hand. He finally spoke, his voice low but resolute. "Whitebeard and the Flying Admiral at war..." He paused, looking to Benn Beckman. "Is there any way to stop them?" The room fell silent. The previously jubilant atmosphere evaporated in an instant. Every member of the crew turned toward their captain, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief. "No way, Boss! You're seriously thinking of getting involved in this mess?" Yasopp exclaimed, his voice tinged with shock as he abruptly stopped polishing his rifle. "Whitebeard's crew is the strongest pirate group in the world, and Wanokuni just took down both Big Mom and Kaido! We're small fry compared to them. This isn't a fight we can afford to step into!" The Red-Haired Pirates had only recently begun to establish themselves in the New World. Their current goal was clear: amidst the chaos left in the wake of Kaido's fall, they aimed to secure a piece of his legacy. This wasn't just about carving out a name for themselves—it was about cementing a foothold in this unforgiving sea. Shanks shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You're oversimplifying it, Yasopp. The New World isn't just our next destination—it's where we're planting our roots. The situation here is already a powder keg. If Wanokuni and Whitebeard clash on this scale, it'll be more than just another skirmish. The New World itself will be reshaped." Benn Beckman exhaled slowly, his sharp mind already piecing together the bigger picture. "You're worried that an all-out war will destabilize the New World even further and ripple out to affect pirate forces across the seas?" "You always get me," Shanks replied, a note of gratitude in his voice as he glanced at his ever-reliable first mate. "If the New World suffers irreparable damage, it's not just this sea that'll be in trouble. It could disrupt the entire Pirate Era—and I'm not sure it would survive that kind of blow. There are agreements, promises, I'm not ready to see broken." As Shanks spoke, his hand unconsciously moved to the top of his head, as if reaching for something that wasn't there—a memory. A certain straw hat, entrusted to him long ago, flickered in his mind's eye. It wasn't just about the future he'd placed in Luffy's hands—it was about the legacy that Roger had passed on to him. The crew exchanged uncertain glances. Shanks' reasoning was unorthodox as always, but it wasn't strength or riches that had drawn them to his ship. It was his charisma, his unshakable belief in a brighter future, that made them follow him to the ends of the earth. Yasopp broke the silence with a grin, his voice more playful now. "I suppose that means my son might end up sailing with Luffy one day, huh? We better make sure the New World's in decent shape for their adventures." His words lightened the mood, and the others laughed, raising their mugs and slabs of meat in agreement. Even amidst such grave discussions, the Red-Haired Pirates couldn't resist celebrating together. "What a bunch of fools," Beckman muttered with a chuckle, before turning back to Shanks. "So, what's the plan? Do you already have an idea how to stop them?" "I don't have all the answers yet," Shanks admitted, scratching his head sheepishly. "But I think the best course of action is to meet with Whitebeard before he makes his move. "Whitebeard and I understand each other better. He's the more reasonable one, and it'll be easier to find common ground." Beckman sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile. "You're impossible, you know that?" Despite his words, he, like the others, didn't voice any real objections. They all knew Shanks well enough to trust his instincts. Shanks rested his hand lightly on his left arm—the one that could no longer feel anything tangible. "This battle for supremacy may be inevitable, but before the new era dawns, I want this chaos to end." The Red-Haired Pirates had barely scratched the surface of the New World, yet under their captain's resolute leadership, they prepared to dive into the maelstrom.

Chapter 162: 162. The Red Hair Wants To Spoil The Situation

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