Chapter 15: Boredom & Titans
"AOOOOO—!"
The Barduwen Tiger let out a pained howl.
Its massive body arced through the air and crashed down into the spectator stands, drawing horrified screams.
"Get out of the way!"
"Run!"
"…"
BOOM!
Sections of seating shattered, dust billowing.
But the collapsing stands weren't the crowd's greatest fear. A mere fall wouldn't defeat the Barduwen Tiger—it would only enrage it further.
"ROOOAR—!"
From the rising dust, the huge figure lurched upright, roaring in fury.
The Barduwen Tiger burst from the smoke. Its blood had reached peak temperature, its physical functions drastically heightened. Its eyes swept over the scattering nobles, the "little morsels" triggering its most primal hunting urge.
It began to rampage through the stands. The nobles' guards were utterly powerless against the frenzied beast. Chaos reigned.
At that moment, the entire arena resembled a "tornado."
The outer wind-wall was pure chaos, but the "eye" at the center was eerily calm.
The slaves who'd been running for their lives moments ago stared, stunned, at the pandemonium in the stands, trying to process the sudden shift.
But after a brief silence, the cold explosive collars around their necks served as a reminder: things were spiraling in an unpredictable direction.
Who dared cause trouble on Sabaody? Who dared unleash a beast on nobles?
What audacity!
The slaves' eyes turned to the man at the heart of this "storm"—Alvin Vergil.
Who was he? How far did he intend to let this storm rage?
"Ahahahaha!"
Vergil clenched his fists, cheering on the panicked nobles.
"Come on! You've watched so many matches! You should be experts at handling wild beasts by now!"
Right. The watching slaves confirmed it—he was indeed treating this as pure entertainment, utterly unconcerned.
They just wondered how long that calm would last.
This was Sabaody, directly under the World Government…
As expected, a sudden change!
Just as Vergil was getting worked up, two cold glints flashed across the stands.
Two sharp blades, left and right, flew from a distance and buried themselves deep in the Barduwen Tiger's flanks.
"ROAR—!"
Agony lanced through it. The tiger roared in pain.
Who? Who hurt it?
It looked around, but saw no enemy.
The next instant, two figures darted through the crowd, leaped, and landed squarely on the tiger's back.
Both wore black suits, faces expressionless, movements lethally precise.
They each gripped a blade embedded in the tiger. One planted a foot on its head, the other stood firm on its spine.
In unison, they stamped down, yanked their blades free, then swung—one aiming for the neck, the other the waist.
Swish—
THUD!
The Barduwen Tiger was instantly cleaved into three segments. Blood fountained, drenching half the stands.
The sudden, brutal efficiency froze everyone present. It also made Vergil's grin widen further, his excitement palpable.
"More experts?"
Vergil waved to the two suit-clad men. "Hey! You two! Come down and play!"
"…"
The two didn't reply. They silently flicked blood from their blades.
The old nobleman nearby, seeing this, grew indignant. Forgetting they'd just saved his life, he shouted, "You two! Arena guards, right? Kill that slave! Now!"
"…"
The two remained silent, but an immense pressure radiated from them—like killing machines poised to activate.
The old noble, too dazzled to see their attire clearly, prepared to shout again.
But another noble suddenly pulled him aside, whispering urgently.
The old noble's eyes widened in instant terror. He stammered, "CP… CP agents?!"
The CP Organization—CIPHER POL—was the World Government's intelligence arm. Officially, there were eight branches, CP1 to CP8. Covertly, there were special units like CP9 and CP0.
To ordinary people, even most minor nobles, the CP represented the World Government itself.
Such agents rarely appeared openly. Their presence in a Sabaody arena spoke volumes.
"Fuffuffufu!"
A strange, wheezing laugh echoed. An even stranger-looking figure emerged from a private box overlooking the arena.
He wore a white spacesuit, an air-filtering bubble helmet over his head. His face was a mass of bloated, folded flesh, grotesque and absurd.
That last observation, of course, could never be voiced aloud.
Because only one kind of person dressed this way on these seas:
Celestial Dragons.
The "World Nobles," descendants of the nineteen founding kings of the World Government. They claimed to be "Creators," enjoying absolute privilege—the "nobility among nobles."
Their arrogance was unparalleled. And no one dared provoke them, for an attack on a Celestial Dragon guaranteed the mobilization of a Navy Admiral or CP0.
No one expected a Celestial Dragon to be here, watching this spectacle. Or perhaps he'd been here all along, enjoying the show, and ordered his agents to intervene when the chaos spilled into the stands.
"Fufu! I do so love spirited young men!"
The Celestial Dragon gestured. The two agents returned to his side, vigilant.
"I am Saint Ekwena. Are you interested in becoming my personal guard?"
Celestial Dragon names were typically preceded by "Saint."
The shock rippled through the crowd. This Celestial Dragon was offering a position to the man who'd caused this mess.
"I adore the strong! And I adore watching them fight even more!"
Saint Ekwena raised his hands dramatically. "Worry not! No explosive collar for you. And if you're strong enough… you can do anything you wish on these seas!"
"…"
Even the high-nosed nobles gasped. They didn't know what twisted luck this troublemaker had, but it was a chance to soar to the heavens.
Alvin Vergil seemed deep in thought, considering the offer.
After a moment, he looked up and asked, "You said 'anything'? Like what, specifically?"
"Fufufu! Anything at all!"
Saint Ekwena chortled. "Wealth, women, status—whatever you desire, it's yours!"
"If you wish, you could demolish this very arena, and no one would dare utter a word!"
"What Great Pirate Era? Before the Celestial Dragons, it's just a game played by untouchables!"
"…"
Vergil didn't answer immediately. He merely lifted his gaze to the Celestial Dragon and murmured,
"But… I could probably get all those things you mentioned on my own, right now."
Saint Ekwena: "…"
He froze. He couldn't fathom anyone on these seas daring to refuse a Celestial Dragon's invitation.
Then, Vergil suddenly spread his arms and laughed.
"Everything you can give… I already have. Seems you Celestial Dragons aren't all that impressive after all!"
Before the words fully left his mouth, Saint Ekwena's face twisted into a mask of pure, venomous malice.
(End of Chapter)
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