At the edge of the ruined amusement park, the air had gone still—
no birds, no wind, only fear.
Several Marine Vice Admirals charged toward Ronn, but the closer they drew, the more that dread gnawed at their souls.
That power—
that suffocating, divine weight pressing against their chests—
was beyond comprehension.
Even against the Rocks Pirates in their prime, even before the might of the Four Emperors, they had never felt this helpless.
"Still want to fight?" Ronn asked softly.
"If not... just blink."
And blink they did—
Sengoku first, then the rest, frantically like men possessed.
Ronn chuckled.
"Good. You're learning."
The pressure evaporated as if it had never existed.
In the span of ten seconds, every Marine's back was soaked through with cold sweat.
They doubled over, panting, gasping for air like drowning men breaking the surface.
Their proud, disciplined faces were now ghostly pale—haunted, but alive.
They all knew it.
If Ronn had wanted to, not one of them would have survived.
Half the Navy's core wiped out in seconds.
The seas would have fallen into chaos overnight.
Only one man seemed dissatisfied.
The one in the flamingo-pink coat adjusted his shades and frowned.
Doflamingo.
Tch. Disappointing.
Why didn't you finish them?
Especially that mutt Akainu. Even a little blood, and I'd have stepped in to finish the job myself.
"Who is he?" murmured Boa Hancock, who had been forcibly summoned for this operation.
Kizaru's voice was as lazy as ever.
"Ohhh~ just a bar owner. A… morally flexible civilian, you might say. That's all~."
Of course, that civilian had killed a Celestial Dragon.
If not for that little incident, he might've been the most peaceful man on the island.
Hancock's brows drew tight.
Her beautiful eyes lingered not on Ronn, but on the mangled corpse of Saint Charlos.
Her lips curved ever so slightly, and for a fleeting moment, her eyes blazed with hatred—
the kind that wished she could rise, walk over, and strike the corpse again.
Minutes later, Sengoku finally found his breath.
"What do you want?" he asked wearily.
Ronn smiled faintly.
"You're mistaken, Fleet Admiral. The choice was yours from the start."
"War or negotiation—I only waited to see what you'd pick."
Sengoku's eyelid twitched.
If this wasn't mockery, it was close enough.
"Negotiation? Ha!"
"What can negotiation give you that battle cannot?"
"The Five Elders want your head. You think that can be negotiated?"
Ronn shook his head, amused.
"No, no, you're still misunderstanding me."
"When I say 'negotiate,' I mean I speak, and you agree."
"If you don't… I'll erase the World Government altogether."
Doflamingo, behind his glasses, was screaming inside:
Don't agree, Sengoku!
Don't you dare agree!
He's bluffing! Weak as a kitten!
Just swing, damn it—show some spine!
Sengoku hesitated.
If he yielded now, the Navy's dignity would be shattered.
But if he fought… the Navy itself might be annihilated.
At last, he exhaled slowly.
"I'll need to speak with the Five Elders. This isn't my decision alone."
Ronn nodded.
"You have ten minutes. Oh, and remind them—"
"Do they remember, a few days ago, when their minds were peered into?"
At that, a chill swept through every Marine present.
Even Kizaru's easygoing grin faltered.
They all remembered the rumors.
A celestial being—Keisha—had glimpsed into the thoughts of the world itself.
Every secret, every sin, laid bare.
To die is one thing, Sengoku thought grimly.
But to have your soul laid open… that is worse than death.
Better to be crushed to dust, yet clean in spirit, than to live with your heart exposed.
Sengoku activated the carousel's broken generator.
As the eerie, childlike music played, he spoke through the Den Den Mushi.
"...Papa's papa is called…"
The tune spun cheerfully, masking the conversation—
but not Sengoku's face.
Worry.
Shock.
Then disbelief.
Then, finally… something close to awe.
Minutes later, the music cut off.
Sengoku turned, face pale, eyes wide.
"The Five Elders… won't pursue the matter."
"They said you may ask anything you desire."
"And… one of them wishes to personally visit your tavern."
He hesitated.
"Not visit, exactly."
"They said… 'pay respects.'"
Doflamingo's grin vanished.
His expression curdled into something ugly, dark, murderous.
Cowards.
All of you.
A Celestial Dragon was dead—slaughtered publicly—
and this was the response?
Ronn smirked.
"Good. They learn fast."
"After this war, they can come to the tavern. We'll talk."
Sengoku nodded stiffly.
"And… what about our current operation?"
"Do whatever you like," Ronn said, waving a hand.
"This no longer concerns me."
He'd come to resolve his own trouble.
Ace's fate, however—that was Rayleigh's problem.
Sengoku's eyes lit up.
He wasted no time.
"All forces—capture Blackbeard and Portgas D. Ace immediately!"
"Yes, sir!"
The ground trembled as the Marines surged forward.
Vice Admirals led the charge, soldiers following like an iron tide.
And then—
A black shape crashed through the skyline, smashing through rides and trees before slamming into the carousel itself.
Blackbeard.
Behind him came Rayleigh, blade slick with blood, eyes cold as winter.
Moments later, two massive shadows dropped from the sky—
Shendu and the Demon Dragon, still brawling mid-air, slammed into the dirt.
In Shendu's armpit dangled a half-conscious Ace.
Even while being pummeled, the old demon hadn't forgotten Rayleigh's request.
"Old man!" the dragon snarled.
"That spray of yours funny, huh? Like training an alt account?"
"Let's see you laugh now!"
His foot, wreathed in lightning, arced toward Shendu's most vulnerable spot.
"Ungrateful brat! You'd strike your own father?!"
Shendu dodged with surprising speed, returning two blinding glares—literal beams of light from his eyes.
The two clashed again, kicking up storms of dirt and lightning, while Ace rolled helplessly out of reach.
Everyone froze.
The Marines.
The pirates.
Even Ronn.
Two monsters wrestling in the mud, one holding Ace under his arm like a bag of groceries.
Sengoku's face twitched violently.
"What… in the world… is going on?"
And for once,
no one had an answer.
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