Whether elegance or courtesy, all of it was nothing more than a disguise Valentine had meticulously draped over himself.
He never cared about the lives of his crew; the only thing on his mind was how to achieve his own goal.
Up until now, everything that had happened was still within his expectations, and he did not believe anything had slipped beyond his control.
Thus, whether it was Nereus appearing before him or his crew being slaughtered, Valentine still appeared relaxed.
But after Valentine dragged Nereus into the water, the course of events gradually began to slip out of his control, giving rise to an ominous feeling in his heart.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Devil Fruit users are hated by the sea. No matter how powerful, once soaked in seawater they lose all strength!
It's fake! It's all fake! Yes… that's right… vampires can hypnotize others. I must have fallen under your illusion… As long as I break free of your hypnosis, the victor will still be me!"
The calm expression on Valentine's face slowly changed, revealing a state bordering on madness.
Sweat continuously seeped from Valentine's forehead and slid down, while the surrounding seawater no longer felt cool and refreshing as before, instead turning into a bone-chilling cold that penetrated to the marrow.
This feeling of things slipping beyond his control made Valentine deeply uneasy, leaving him no choice but to desperately comfort his inner panic through constant self-persuasion.
If Nereus, as a devil fruit user, truly did not fear the curse of the sea—
Then for a human, knowing full well that the opponent was a Fish-Man and still deliberately shifting the battlefield into the depths of the sea, such an act could not even be described as foolish.
Bang!
Bang!
Valentine swung his fists with all his strength, smashing them violently into his own face, as if trying to use pain to forcibly awaken himself from this hypnotic, fake dream.
And this utterly unhinged behavior caused Nereus to completely lose interest in him.
"What's wrong? When you encounter something beyond the scope of your understanding, does your brain simply stop functioning, unable to accept reality?"
Nereus made no exaggerated or fierce movements. He merely raised his arm casually and firmly gripped Valentine by the throat.
"I'm also a Fish-Man. The innate ability granted by my Fish-Type allows a special thin membrane to naturally form on the surface of my body, isolating me from the effects of seawater.
You keep claiming to worship me, yet you didn't even investigate something like this?"
Nereus even felt that Valentine's behavior could be described as that of a "fake fan," not even as dedicated as those obsessive stalkers.
After all, when those people go crazy, they can really dig up things.
All Fish-Men possess their own Fish-Type abilities. While many Fish-Men show no particularly obvious manifestations, merely being able to breathe underwater and possessing greater strength—
Those with special abilities, however, can make use of these innate physiological traits.
Nanamo can release powerful acid; Nereus himself can use this close-fitting bubble-like membrane to form a special protective layer, maintaining combat effectiveness even underwater.
Moreover, this membrane is not an artificially made resin bubble that is easily damaged in battle.
As long as Nereus is still alive and his stamina is not exhausted, he can continuously replenish and repair this bubble membrane, making it as reliable as a second layer of skin, enough to sustain high-intensity combat.
And the stamina consumption of this ability, for Nereus, is no different from breathing.
For ordinary Fish-Men, this ability has little significance, but for a devil user like Nereus, it serves a very special purpose.
"Fake… it's all fake! How could my meticulously planned scheme have such a huge problem… cough, cough… this… what exactly… is… going on…"
Valentine suddenly realized that the strength within his body was draining at an astonishing speed. His entire body began to grow stiff and numb, his legs and feet even starting to disobey his brain.
The carefully tailored suit that once fit him perfectly now looked loose and baggy on his body.
After being thoroughly soaked by the icy seawater, accompanied by Valentine's feeble struggles, his sleeves slid down, leaving his arms completely exposed.
Though Valentine had never been the type with massively bulging muscles, he was at least lean and well-built, yet at this very moment, his arms had withered like rotting wood.
Muscle tissue withered and atrophied, his skin growing slack and covered in wrinkles, as if he had aged several decades in an instant.
"Didn't you say it yourself earlier? This Devil Fruit of mine can take away other people's lifespan.
I'll be taking your lifespan now. I've left you about five minutes. No need to thank me. Go and savor the final moments of your life."
Stealing an opponent's lifespan through physical contact was the most basic ability of this Devil Fruit. As long as the user wasn't some utterly useless failure, they could grasp this power the moment they ate it.
In the original timeline, after Redfield consumed this Devil Fruit, he reclaimed his youth by stealing the lifespans of others.
If the user so wished, they could even return the stolen time.
Nereus had eaten this Devil Fruit a long time ago, and using such a basic ability was second nature to him.
Moreover, to Nereus, stealing lifespan and absorbing blood were entirely different matters. Someone as extremely self-centered as Valentine didn't even inspire in him the slightest desire to absorb his blood.
A person like Valentine, who completely lost his composure the moment things exceeded his expectations, was bound to have weak Haki and had no hope of resisting Nereus's siphoning of his lifespan.
"No… my youth, my ambitions… how could they… just vanish like this…"
Intense unwillingness and despair surged over him like a tidal wave, and Valentine struggled with the last of his strength in the seawater.
However, this body, its time already taken by Nereus, could no longer support any effective resistance.
As a wave rolled over him, icy seawater flooded into Valentine's already feeble lungs. He instinctively tried to cough it out violently, only to inhale even more seawater due to the choking.
The crushing sensation of suffocation, mixed with the icy despair of approaching death, completely engulfed Valentine's aged body.
Valentine's gaze gradually grew unfocused and dim, as he watched the surface of the sea above, the symbol of life, grow ever more distant.
In his final moments, he could only helplessly stretch his trembling hand upward.
What had once been so close, within easy reach, now became an unbridgeable chasm.
Valentine never resurfaced. He remained forever in the deep, cold depths of the West Blue.
Only the empty pirate ship of the Valentine Pirates remained, a silent testament that such a pirate crew had once existed in this world.
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