"Saint Ross, you..."
Olvia glared at Ross with hatred, her expression and eyes seeming as if she wanted to devour him.
Unfortunately, she lacked the domineering aura of a Conqueror, and her eyes had no killing power.
She knew perfectly well that Ross wanted to see them kill each other.
But the consequences Ross described were far too horrific.
Once someone became the sole survivor of Ohara, acknowledged Ohara's mistakes, and repented,
then all their efforts over the years would have been in vain.
Not only that, but what about her act of killing her companion?
Once the arrow was shot, there was no turning back.
Olvia was filled with despair.
She knew that from the moment she fired the first shot, there was no turning back.
Ross's words further stripped away her already crumbling facade, laying bare the stark choice she now faced in her life.
Olvia didn't know if anyone would resist, but she knew that if she didn't act now, she might be knocked down by the others while reloading.
No!
She had already sacrificed too much.
No!
She wouldn't allow that kind of ending!
A morbid ruthlessness flashed in Olvia's eyes as she picked up the gun and pulled the trigger sharply.
Bang!!!
Gunshots rang out again.
This not only signified the death of a historian, but also brought the remaining six historians back to their senses.
For them, passively facing death was not frightening; the gunshot was but a moment, and death was but a fleeting instant.
But watching helplessly as their comrades fell one by one before their eyes, or being killed by the very comrades they cherished most, the torment and despair constantly eroded the hearts of the historians.
The figures of their fallen companions lay right beside them; how could they possibly resist Ross's temptation?
Live on.
It became their only hope.
"Olvia, you devil!"
A burly male historian shouted and lunged at Olvia.
The remaining survivors also sprang into action, rushing towards Olvia.
Bang!!!
Bang!!!
Bang!!!
After three gunshots, three male historians fell to the ground, but Olvia's gun was also out of bullets.
The remaining two female and one male historians rushed forward and threw punches at Olvia.
Smack!
Olvia pursed her lips, held up the platinum pistol, and slammed it down on the head of the only male historian.
Having spent so many years at sea, she still possessed some skills.
At least, she was stronger than the average person.
But this strength was indeed limited.
Despite being surrounded by three people, Olvia was still in grave danger.
"Olvia..."
Robin landed on the ground, staring blankly at the scene before her.
Her beloved mother was fighting with other historians over the study of historical texts, just like street brawls in the village.
At this moment, the image of the mother created by Dr. Clover and other historians was completely shattered.
It turned out that her mother wasn't so good either; she wasn't much different from her uncle's family who had bullied her before.
The only difference might be that they wouldn't lay a hand on her anymore, unlike her uncle's family who would actually hit her.
Smack!
After a minute of scrambling, Olvia ultimately won the match.
Or rather, with so many strong figures watching, it was inevitable that Olvia would win.
Olvia stood up shakily, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, and, ignoring her injuries, stared intently at Ross.
"Saint Ross, you promised me, you promised me!"
"I did agree to your request, but how many did you just kill?" Ross retorted.
"Seven, so according to what you promised, that's fourteen...fourteen..."
Olvia's face suddenly froze.
Yes, 14—she was one short.
"I still have time, and there are others in Ohara."
Olvia spoke in a hoarse voice, her eyes bloodshot.
Having come this far, how could she possibly allow herself to be short by just one?
"Others? Are there any other people in Ohara?"
Ross looked at Spandine as if asking a routine question.
But Spandine, understanding immediately, replied:
"Reporting to Saint Ross, the rest of the civilians in Ohara have already evacuated on refugee boats. Now, only we are left in Ohara."
Regardless of whether those lowly people had evacuated or not, this was what they had to say now.
Others might not know what Saint Ross did, but surely he did?
Damn it, even among the Celestial Dragons, Saint Ross was definitely the most evil one.
But Spandine only dared to complain in his heart; he didn't dare to say a word on the surface, and was even prepared to treat Ross like his own father.
Even with his Celestial Dragon identity, he was still so cunning. Spandine wouldn't dare have any other tricks up his sleeve; he wouldn't have enough lives to lose.
"There are none left?!"
Olvia was momentarily stunned, her arm fell limply to her side, and the platinum pistol she had been gripping loosened.
Zane instantly appeared beside her, picked up the pistol before it hit the ground, and returned to Ross's side in the blink of an eye, respectfully presenting it with both hands.
Ross skillfully changed the magazine and handed the gun to Zane.
Zane understood and walked over to Olvia with her gun in hand.
"I've already given you a break; I've counted two for each person. Think about it carefully," Ross said calmly.
"Impossible! This is simply impossible! You never intended for me to continue studying the historical texts!" Olvia exclaimed excitedly.
How could there be such a big difference between people who studied history?
If it had been Velen, he probably would have known what Ross meant before firing the shot.
Of course, if it had been Velen, he wouldn't have made that initial request.
"I wouldn't do something so despicable. Since I've said it, I'm sure I can get it done."
Ross said calmly, "Alright, think it over carefully first. Don't let anger and hatred cloud your judgment. Right now, you have no choice."
"Either continue, and kill the last person."
"Either I take you away and keep you in Mary Geoise forever, never again having the chance to touch the Poneglyphs."
"No! Let me think about it!"
Olvia pursed her lips, her mind racing.
She was like a gambler now, having lost the first 38 games, and knew that the 39th game was a sure win, and she could even get back 10 times the amount she had lost before.
At this point, how could anyone possibly give up?
The people of Ohara... the people of Ohara...
Yes, and she was from Ohara!
But she couldn't possibly kill herself.
If she killed herself, then what was the point of everything she had done?
Calm down, calm down!
Olvia forced herself to calm down, her gaze still fixed on Ross.
Suddenly, she saw Ross smile, bend down, and pat Robin's head.
Robin...
Seeing her kill so many people must have been heartbreaking.
Only then did Olvia realize that she had killed all the historians in front of her daughter.
"Ohara...Ohara!"
Olvia's gaze, which had been fixed on Robin, gradually became vacant, and she kept muttering the word 'Ohara'.
Yes!
She was from Ohara, and Robin was from Ohara too!
Robin was the key to breaking the deadlock that Ross had talked about.
But... why Robin of all people?!
...
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