Chapter 18: The Color of Life
Click!
A crisp sound.
Not loud—just the snap of a lock breaking—yet it spread through the entire arena with unsettling speed.
The Explosive Collar—shattered.
How Alvin Vergil did it was one thing. The act itself was enough to ignite a riot.
Today, a man named Alvin Vergil had destroyed the explosive collar of a Celestial Dragon's slave.
The arena trembled.
The nobles, previously ordered by Saint Ekwena to stay and watch, could no longer contain their terror. They fled.
This arena—no, the entire Sabaody Archipelago—was no longer safe!
Vergil's act was direct defiance of a Celestial Dragon. War was inevitable. It would likely draw in a Navy Admiral… or CP0. The archipelago would become a battlefield.
They'd come to Sabaody for pleasure, not to die.
So the nobles stampeded for the exits, jamming the doorways in a frantic, tangled mass. No one wanted to face a Celestial Dragon's wrath.
"Untouchable…"
"Untouchables!"
In the stands, Saint Ekwena's face was contorted with rage, his teeth grinding.
He shrieked, "I gave you a chance to live! And you're still not grateful?! Is there anyone in this world more merciful than I?!"
"…"
Tiger ignored the noise. The long-lost feeling of lightness around his neck left him frozen, unable to process it.
He looked up at the man named "Alvin Vergil." There was blood on Vergil's face. Tiger could tell his own fists hadn't dealt significant damage—much of that blood was his own. Yet a pang of guilt stirred in his heart.
Tiger looked awkward, unsure what stance to take with this human. He touched his bare neck and murmured, "Sorry…"
"Hahaha!"
Alvin Vergil's response was only hearty laughter.
"Don't be so formal! Do I look that petty?"
He glanced toward the other side of the arena.
There, the remaining slaves hesitated, uncertain what to do next. Even those not yet released peered through the arena's iron-barred windows, watching.
Seeing this, Vergil, eager to test his newly grasped technique, rushed forward excitedly.
"Because I'm enjoying this!"
Swish—!
A finger jab. The fat man's explosive collar fell away.
Then a third, a fourth, a fifth…
The collars shared the same internal structure. Vergil dismantled them faster and faster. Soon, a mere touch was enough to compromise their integrity and make them drop.
After freeing the slaves in the arena, Vergil tore open the barred windows, releasing those held within.
Most were gladiator slaves, bought for the arena, living in darkness. Now, they'd finally tasted freedom…
Almost.
One "giant" step remained—a chasm still before them.
Just as the slaves reveled in the sudden lightness around their necks, a figure materialized nearby.
One of the two Celestial Dragon guards. A member of the CP Organization.
Black suit. Sharp blade in hand.
Both were swordsmen of comparable skill. One remained to protect Saint Ekwena; the other moved to quell the disturbance.
"Slaves should behave like slaves. Do not trouble the World Government."
The agent slowly drew his blade, cold steel glinting.
His voice was low, measured. "Know your place. Know your inherent worth."
"Cross that line rashly… and you pay the price."
He pointed the tip of his sword at Vergil.
"You have troubled the World Government. Therefore, you will all die here."
His tone was calm, brimming with absolute confidence. Celestial Dragon guards were typically CP0, the "Strongest Shields." That these two CP agents served as exceptions spoke to their prowess.
He frowned slightly, his voice deepening. "Now. Let me kill you."
"Alright! Let's try!"
Hearing this, Vergil didn't retreat. He strode steadily toward the agent, his heavy steps thudding against the earth.
He walked right into the agent's attack range.
"Nice blade."
Vergil extended a finger, lightly tapping the sword's tip.
The agent sneered. "I will kill you with this very blade."
"Blade?" Vergil looked puzzled. "What blade?"
"Hm?"
The agent was taken aback.
Looking down, he saw cracks spiderwebbing across the rare, named blade in his hand.
The cracks spread. Then, with a crisp ping, the sword shattered on the spot.
In a blink, the agent held only the hilt.
"This…" He froze, a cold dread washing over him.
He looked up. Vergil's massive, beast-transformed hand was already descending, fingers splayed, aimed straight for his head.
No time to dodge!
In desperation, the agent invoked Tekkai—"Iron Body"—one of the Navy's Six Powers.
Instantly, his body hardened to steel. But the world still spun before his eyes.
THUD!
When his senses cleared, he found Vergil had driven his head into the ground.
"Guh…" The agent struggled, but Vergil's monstrous strength pinned him utterly.
"Shh!"
Vergil suddenly leaned close, putting a finger to his lips. "Listen."
The agent went still. Then he heard it—roaring.
A roar, but also a kind of cheering, a self-encouraging cry.
With his one free eye, the agent glimpsed the source: the crowd of slaves, roaring as one.
"What… is this?"
"This is life—life as it should be."
Vergil grinned. "Listen. Life is like a song. And the songs of these lives… they're especially bright."
Because Alvin Vergil had subdued one of the Dragon's guards, a tiny seed of "hope" had sprouted in the hearts of slaves resigned to despair.
A life roaring for hope sings with a particularly dazzling light!
BOOM!
Vergil drove his other fist down, finishing the guard.
Witnessing this, seeing the roaring slaves, Saint Ekwena's face in the stands twisted further.
He ordered his remaining guard to act. The guard's hand went to his sword hilt.
Swish!
The guard leaped high, aiming straight for Vergil.
At almost the same instant, Alvin Vergil leaped to meet him. They collided mid-air. Vergil overpowered him, slamming the guard down to the earth.
Vergil landed solidly on the ground—right in the spectator stands, face-to-face with Saint Ekwena.
"And you—"
Vergil reached out, seizing Saint Ekwena by the neck. A red light glowed deep in his pupils. He grinned, baring sharp fangs, and growled,
"Your life is rotten. Utterly ugly. And disgusting."
(End of Chapter)
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