"Kill him! How dare he look down on us!"
"Arrogant—far too arrogant!"
The two veteran captains were furious.
Fighting spirit flared within them—
Their auras grew stronger and stronger!
Coating their weapons with Armament Haki, the two Whitebeard Pirates captains charged at Senju Hashirama with unrestrained fury, like two wild stallions breaking free of their reins!
With one full-powered slash, they actually managed to carve a deep crack into the wooden dragon's body.
"Oh… not bad," Hashirama murmured.
He withdrew a bit of his earlier contempt and grew slightly more serious. Originally, he hadn't regarded these two "small fry" as worth his attention, but seeing them damage his wooden dragon with a single strike made him reconsider.
If they could do that… then he would have to respond decisively.
Senju Hashirama's eyes hardened. These men needed to learn what it meant to face him in battle.
"Wood Style!"
He slammed both palms onto the ground. A massive surge of chakra erupted from his hands, flooding the area and triggering an unprecedented transformation in the terrain.
When chakra reached such an overwhelming level, it could produce truly extraordinary phenomena.
And now—
From the earth erupted dozens of colossal wooden tendrils, each over twenty meters long and thick as a giant's arm. They lashed out in all directions, coiling and twisting toward the two captains.
It happened too fast for them to react.
"Damn it!"
"Let go of me!"
Andre and Edward gritted their teeth, straining with all their strength to break free, but against Hashirama's Wood Style, they were completely powerless.
In moments, they were bound tight, unable to move an inch.
"Die!"
Hashirama clenched his fists.
The wooden tendrils constricted with terrifying force—
And in the next instant, both Andre and Edward, veteran captains of the Whitebeard Pirates, met a swift and brutal end.
From start to finish…
It was a one-sided slaughter.
The pirates watching from afar stood frozen in shock and horror.
In their eyes, Edward and Andre were legendary figures—true "big brothers" of the crew.
Yet in just a few seconds…
They had been crushed by Senju Hashirama.
Could they not be terrified?
Meanwhile, similar scenes were playing out all across Hive Island.
Just as Hashirama, the God of Shinobi, cut down enemies without mercy, Gojo Satoru was rampaging through the battlefield alone—his overwhelming power felling pirate after pirate with ease.
This wasn't a battle anymore.
It was a massacre.
It was mowing the grass.
No matter how many Whitebeard captains rushed forward to stop him, the moment they drew close…
They found they couldn't move.
It felt as though their legs had sunk into a bog—each step an impossible struggle.
"Why… why can't my feet move?!" one captain cried out in shock and frustration, unable to comprehend what was happening.
Gojo Satoru narrowed his eyes with a lazy smile.
"Want to know why?"
Every pirate present nodded instinctively—they had to know.
"But I'm not telling you."
He snapped his fingers.
In that instant, every pirate still standing collapsed where they were, consciousness snuffed out—like puppets whose strings had been cut.
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