"He's here."
Kuma sat on the sofa, legs crossed, gloved hands resting atop a Bible.
Moria gritted his teeth. Of course he knew who Kuma meant—Davy Jones. Wrapped in the darkness and chill of the deep sea, he dragged the still-sobbing, trembling Perona along with him, step by step up the staircase.
Damn you, "Lord of the Deep"… Are you trying to intimidate me? Threaten me?
Though Moria had been away from the "New World" for a long time, his skills dulled from neglect, he still retained his most basic Observation Haki.
He could clearly sense the overwhelming pressure radiating from Davy Jones. For a brief moment, regret gnawed at him.
Was it a mistake to steal the shadow of Davy Jones's crewman?
He recalled how he had captured the man with the spotted cap, seized his shadow, cut it away with scissors, and then stuffed it into Oars's body.
All to awaken Oars… but was it worth offending such a rising pirate?
The thought shamed him immediately.
I am one of the Shichibukai! It's bad enough having the "Navy Headquarters" and the "Four Emperors" pressing down on me—why should I bow to you as well?
I am Gecko Moria. Whatever I desire, I take. Whatever shadow I want, I claim. If you want it back, then come and take it yourself!
Having convinced himself, Moria heaved his massive frame off the sofa and split his enormous mouth into a grin.
"Kuma, just sit there and watch closely. I'll show you how I deal with this intruder!"
"I'll be watching." Kuma shifted his massive body slightly, settling into a more comfortable viewing position.
Standing proudly in the center of the hall, arms akimbo, Moria did exude a certain "Warlord" authority.
But the moment that crushing presence pressed down, accompanied by the thump-thump of a heartbeat, and the massive doors creaked open, Moria knew at once he had underestimated Davy Jones.
"…Conqueror's Haki," Kuma muttered under his breath. He had seen others who possessed it—each and every one a monster among men, gathered in the New World. Would Davy Jones one day stand among them?
Kuma remained silent, eyes intent on the scene before him.
The door groaned open, and Perona's small figure was flung into the hall. She tumbled across the carpet, rolling several times before finally coming to a stop.
When she lifted herself up, her makeup was smeared from tears, her eyes swollen red—pitiful to behold. Clearly, Davy Jones had no regard for "gentle treatment."
"Moria-sama!" Perona shrieked desperately at the sight of her savior, at last catching a breath after suffocating despair.
But Moria's expression was grave. He had no time to spare for his foster daughter's plight.
For Davy Jones had entered the hall.
Fixing his gaze on the newcomer, Moriah sharpened his Observation Haki, terrified of losing track of his movements for even an instant.
Meanwhile, his shadow stretched silently along the ground, swimming like a shark across the floor, circling behind Davy Jones.
"So you're tonight's 'intruder,' Davy Jones?" Moria's high-pitched voice cut the silence, his words a distraction. "You dare wreck my 'Thriller Bark'… my 'Zombie Legion'…"
"Then it's you," Davy Jones replied, eyes sweeping over the towering, pale-skinned Warlord, then flicking briefly toward Kuma seated on the sofa. "The one behind the hundreds of disappearances in the 'Devil's Triangle' every year."
"Those who choose to become pirates wager their very lives. Small-time, you pillage. Large-scale, you carve out dominion. But if you dare stand in the way and make your living trafficking in shadows and corpses, then don't think of yourself as innocent—lest you make yourself a laughingstock."
Moria had indeed planted himself astride the route that countless rising pirates took toward Sabaody. His plan: seize ships, steal shadows, loot treasures and supplies—often all three.
But if you want to prey on others, you must also accept the risk of being preyed upon. That he would one day encounter someone like Davy Jones was inevitable.
To devour others means being ready to be devoured in turn.
Moria's face twitched. He knew it was true. Among pirates, the law was survival of the fittest. But after so many years of smooth sailing—untouched even by "Marine Headquarters"—why should Davy Jones presume to interfere?
And besides… you think you can devour me? You have the appetite for that? You think you can digest me? I am not Absalom or Hogback, some worthless weakling!
At what he judged to be the perfect moment, Moria let out a shrill roar. His shadow, which had crept behind Davy Jones, suddenly shot upward—forming into a Shadow Spear that lunged straight for his back.
With a sickening shunk, the spear pierced through Davy Jones's back, striking true—aiming directly at his heart!
By pure chance, Moria had struck the one part of his body that could not regenerate.
Yet Davy Jones did not panic. In fact, he had long since sensed the attack with his own Observation Haki. He had simply chosen not to evade, not to block with his tentacles, but to let the spear drive in.
Because his heart had been fortified.
Not only could it pulse with the rhythm of his Conqueror's Haki, emitting waves of "deathly resonance" that steadily eroded the energy of those around him—but around it lay a barrier: a "fortress unbreakable."
The Shadow Spear struck hard against that fortress, ringing with a metallic clang. Not only had it failed to pierce the barrier—it hadn't even left a crack. His heart was untouched.
Moria's jaw dropped. He had expected a brilliant sneak attack, a decisive blow that would gravely wound his foe. Instead, Davy Jones stood unscathed, not even wincing in pain.
As though merely inconvenienced by a foreign object lodged in his flesh, he turned slowly.
As he pivoted, the spear ripped his flesh open further—but he paid it no mind.
And in the next instant, Moriah understood why.
When Davy Jones faced him fully, pulling free of the spear and baring the gaping wound across his back, Moria could only swallow hard.
The wound… was healing.
The grotesque, terrifying sight left even the battle-hardened Kuma and the hopeful Perona shaken to the core.
This was no "Logia intangibility." His very flesh was regenerating. Ordinary physical damage could not bring him down!
With that realization, Kuma understood just how formidable an enemy Moria faced.
And yet, Davy Jones's display led Kuma to a dangerous miscalculation.
If even the flesh around his heart could regenerate… then should he and Dragon ever face this man, how would they hope to fight him?
The thought troubled Kuma deeply.
Moria, meanwhile, was far beyond troubled—he was afraid.
This was not the battle he had imagined. He had expected a brutal struggle, flesh against flesh, blow against blow. But if the enemy could heal endlessly… then wouldn't it be a one-sided massacre, with only him suffering injuries?
Unfair!
Just as when he had challenged Kaido, the "Beast." No matter how fiercely Moriah struck, he had never managed to wound him—while one blow of "Advanced Conqueror's Haki" had left Moriah half-dead.
Now, Davy Jones faced the spear still jutting from him. Tentacles lashed out, coiling around the weapon, and with a sharp crack, he snapped it in half.
Turning once more toward Moria, his gaze was cold.
"Now we return to the beginning." The tentacles slithered down his cloak, spreading across the floor. "As pirates, to devour another—or to be devoured in turn—is the natural order of things."
"Gecko Moria—are you prepared to be devoured by me?"
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