"Seriously," Hans complained, lowering his rifle as the last agent stopped twitching. "Captain Momonga's intervention left us with no chance to act. I wanted to shoot something."
"Yeah," Beck agreed, kicking a pistol away from a corpse. "We endured all that hardship in the coal mines, breathing dust for days. I wanted to vent my frustrations!"
Bell-mère, however, felt nothing of the sort.
She lit a cigarette of her own, looking at the scene with a smirk.
"Captain Momonga," she remarked, exhaling smoke. "You are now many times more dangerous than you used to be. Raleigh has been a... bad influence on you."
She held a favorable impression of Momonga and was genuinely pleased to see his ruthlessness.
It was necessary for survival.
"Momonga-san abilities are truly remarkable. It's a shame we didn't get to see his Dojigiri drawn," Miles sighed, gazing covetously at the famous sword, Dojigiri, at Momonga's waist.
He was well aware that the sword had been a gift from Raleigh to Momonga.
Miles wanted a good sword of his own, but he knew he wasn't there yet.
Belo Betty emerged from the shadows behind Miles, holding a rolled-up bundle.
"Momonga-san, you didn't even give me a chance to use my fruit!" she protested, pouting. Momonga patted her head gently.
"Little Betty, it's not yet time for your generation to step into the fray. You all still need more training. Besides... you have a special role to play tonight."
His eyes were filled with gratification.
Seeing Miles and Betty grow under Raleigh's tutelage was impressive. In less than half a year, their characters had been reshaped.
"Always the same old story," Miles grumbled, thumping his chest. "Our Master says the same thing, even though we're not weak anymore!"
This immediately elicited laughter from everyone.
"Alright, clean it up," Momonga ordered.
As Hans and Beck gathered the bodies of the CP organization members into a pile, they whispered about their future.
"Beck, I've made up my mind. Once this mission is over, I'm going to request a transfer. I want to stay under Commander Raleigh's command permanently."
"Hans, aren't you afraid Captain Momonga will get angry if he hears you?" Beck whispered back, glancing at Momonga.
"To be honest, I'm still a bit scared of him." Hans gave a knowing look. "If you're scared, you can stay under Momonga. I'm not afraid—I want to follow Raleigh. That man is going places."
"You dog! I'll fight you for that spot!" Beck hissed, reaching out to choke Hans.
"Enough! Stop arguing!" Momonga chided, casting a stern glance at his two longtime subordinates.
"We still have a major scene left to witness. Burn it."
Hans and Beck shrank their necks, hastily pouring gasoline over the pile of corpses.
"Ah, what a pity for such a beautiful girl," Hans muttered, looking at the female agent.
She had died just as ugly a death as the others.
Flick.
Hans lit a match and tossed it onto the gasoline.
WOOSH!
A fierce blaze erupted, engulfing the bodies and the building, obliterating any evidence that the Marines had ever been there.
"Let's move," Momonga said, leading the group away into the night. "In the direction of the palace... another act is about to commence."
...
The Royal Palace.
The opulent main hall was silent, save for the crackling of torches.
Grover, the Captain of the Royal Guard, stood alone.
He held his massive greatsword with both hands, staring blankly at the corpse of Carol Barlow on the ground.
He was no stranger to dealing with the CP leader.
He knew Barlow was strong. Yet, Barlow had been killed instantly by this mysterious group.
If even the subordinates of this hooded man possessed such formidable strength... how powerful must the leader be?
Did their current situation imply that resistance was utterly futile? Grover didn't know.
Yet, his duty was absolute. He raised his greatsword, pointing the heavy steel tip at Dragon.
"Mr. Grover," Dragon said, his voice deep and resonant. "You have no reason to resist. From what I know, you've never been involved in the corruption of this kingdom. Stand down."
Grover nodded seriously, acknowledging the truth, then shook his head.
"I may not have been involved in those affairs, but protecting this palace has been a duty ingrained in me since birth. Today, you've breached its walls. I am deeply ashamed."
He tightened his grip.
"The only thing I can do now... is to die fighting you."
Dragon nodded, admiring Grover's character, yet regretting their opposing stances.
"Come then."
"HAAAH!"
With a powerful leap, Grover raised his greatsword high.
He brought it down fiercely toward Dragon's head, putting every ounce of his strength into a strike that could split a boulder.
CLANG!
The strike stopped abruptly.
Grover's greatsword didn't hit Dragon's head. It didn't hit the floor. It was firmly gripped by three fingers.
Dragon's right hand, coated in black Armament Haki, was shaped like a claw.
He had caught the blade mid-swing.
"What... what kind of martial art is this?" Grover gasped, straining to push the blade down, but it wouldn't budge an inch.
"This is the Dragon Claw," Dragon said calmly. "A move I created myself. Designed to crush the tyranny of this world."
With that, Dragon's right hand suddenly exerted force.
CRACK!
Spiderweb fractures spread rapidly across the broad, high-quality steel of the sword, originating from where Dragon's fingers gripped it.
PING!
The heavy sword Grover had spent a fortune on and wielded for a lifetime shattered into shards of metal.
Grover stood holding the broken hilt.
His expression turned ashen. He dropped the hilt, calmly gazed at Dragon, and closed his eyes.
"Do it."
Dragon lowered his hand.
An enigmatic smile played on his lips. "Not so fast, Captain Grover. There are still others who haven't arrived."
Grover opened his eyes, confused.
"Others?"
Since Dragon had already defeated him, he felt a sense of futility, but curiosity kept him rooted to the spot.
After half an hour of tense waiting, just as Dragon finished writing his summary of the uprising in his notebook, the sound of marching feet echoed outside.
"Leader!" Karasu shouted, entering the hall. "We've brought them back!"
A gleam flashed in Dragon's eyes.
"Finally."
Grover turned toward the side chamber entrance.
When the group entered, his eyes widened in shock.
The crowd before him was clearly the team he had sent to the port to protect the King.
Even within the ranks, he spotted his own son, Gale, looking confused but unharmed.
And behind them... the great nobles of the Eryoku Kingdom, looking terrified.
"What is going on?" Grover asked Dragon emotionally. "Why are they here?"
Dragon did not answer. He just pointed to the door.
Finally, just as Grover was losing control, King Edward III emerged.
He wasn't bound. He wasn't bleeding. He was wearing a magnificent, ceremonial royal gown, though he looked incredibly sweaty and nervous.
"Your Majesty!" Grover hurried to Edward III's side, checking him for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did they capture the ship?"
Edward III patted Grover's shoulder with a trembling hand.
"I'm fine, Grover. I'm fine."
He took a deep breath, looking at Dragon, who gave him a sharp nod.
"Alright, Grover," the King said, his voice surprisingly steady. "Stand aside. I have... important matters to attend to."
Edward III pushed Grover gently aside and strode to the highest point of the palace throne room.
He looked down at the gathering crowd—rebels, soldiers, nobles, and workers. He cleared his throat.
"I am Edward III. For a long time, I served as the King of the Eryoku Kingdom."
The room went silent.
"I admit... I have performed poorly. I neglected the workers. I allowed corruption to rot my lands." He paused, looking at a script he had clearly memorized under duress.
"Therefore... I voluntarily abdicate my throne."
Gasps filled the room.
"And," the King continued, gesturing to the side entrance where Momonga's group was waiting, "I transfer the crown and the kingdom... to the true heir of the people's will..."
Belo Betty stepped forward, wearing a makeshift sash over her rebel clothes, looking confident and fierce.
"...to Princess Belo Betty."
These words left even Grover utterly shocked.
His jaw dropped!
Where did this Princess come from?! How could he, who have lived his entire life at the palace doesnt recognize her?!And why was the King abdicating so frivolously?!
In the shadows, Momonga adjusted his glasses, hiding a smirk.
'Raleigh... you and your scripts. This is going to be a headache to explain.'
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