165 Fishing in troubled waters (2/2)

He let the momentum carry him forward, before hunching down beside his right leg and tearing brutally into the man's thigh.

A garbled roar sounded out as the enraged captain turned around, startled by the dagger hilt that was smacked into his nose.

Terrick stepped forward, burying the muzzle of his pistol into the hole in the captain's throat.

With a flick of his fingers the roar of the bullet sounded, and though the captain guarded against it to the best of his abilities, his Haki was nowhere strong enough to take a bullet at point blank range to a lethal spot.

With a dull thud the marine captain collapsed, and with it fell the morale of the rest of the crew.

Wails sounded as the soldiers at the edges leapt off deck. Those that did not make it in time, found themselves bathing quite unwillingly in their own blood as lethal lines were drawn across their throat.

Terrick sighed, allowing the adrenaline from the battle to cool off a little, the thudding of his blood on the base of his skull made him uncomfortable. That of course paled in comparison to what he was about to do next.

With a face full of regret, he dragged at one of the few remaining cannonballs on deck, before loading it into the cannon's mouth.

He stared morosely at the ship in the horizon, before lighting the fuse in resignation.

'Terrick - died while foolishly sitting within the barrel of a cannon!' he could almost see these words on his eulogy, alongside the sad face of his crewmates and the gloating face of the captain (the guy that suggested the course of action) and the first mate (The guy that implemented it without asking for permission from the people involved).

As the boom sounded, he let his Haki trickle outward, as he sat on the ball. He could feel his but heat up as he sailed through the air, the black smoke having already turned his countenance into that of a miner doing overtime.

He briefly opened one of his eyes, immediately regretting the course of action.

The frothing water was extremely close. Too close for comfort, and the ship was still a few ways off.

With a massive tumble he fell off of the hot ball of death, hoping against hope that his captain would be amused enough with his sacrificial behaviour to save him before he drowned in the harsh waves below.

Fortunately, that seemed the be the case, for right before his landing he could feel a gritty feeling on his face, contorting around his body restrictively.

It was a net. The bastards were fishing him out of the situation with a mouldy net that they had found in the ship's storage...

On second thoughts, that summed up his situation just right...