"He’s here... that bastard..."
From the ruins of the collapsed auction wall, the golden Buddha slowly rose to its feet.
Sengoku lifted his head, eyes grim, fists clenching instinctively as he stared into the darkened sky.
Around him, everything within a hundred meters lay in ruin. Buildings had been flattened like crops under a giant’s feet. The earth itself had been plowed into a massive crater.
At the far end of that scar, the Charlotte brothers lay bloodied, gasping for air.
Their eyes were fixed in horror on the towering War Buddha in the distance—immense, unstoppable.
Especially Daifuku, whose entire body was a shattered wreck.
At least ten fractures. Massive internal trauma.
If Perospero hadn’t thrown up a hardened candy barrier at the last second to absorb the impact... he would’ve been reduced to a pile of bloody mush.
"So this is the power of a Marine Headquarters admiral... the legendary ’Buddha’ Sengoku..."
Perospero’s face was pale. He swallowed dryly, his throat parched. Two streams of bright blood flowed from his nostrils, soaking his ornate robe, his candy cane staff snapped into several useless pieces.
"Jihahahaha!! Sengoku, long time no see..."
A sneering laugh suddenly echoed from the skies above, cutting into the silence like a blade.
The two brothers flinched.
They looked up, dread welling in their eyes.
Above the Island of Coins, the rolling clouds parted—slowly pushed aside by a pressure so overwhelming it seemed to be crushing the heavens themselves.
And from the center of the gap, a figure began to descend into view.
His skin was sun-darkened, eyes sharp and violent, a lit cigar clenched in his teeth.
He wore a charcoal-grey kimono, but what drew all eyes was his mane of golden hair—long enough to reach his feet, billowing wildly in the wind like the tail of a lion.
Though he hovered silently above them, the pressure he exuded was immense—like a ruler surveying his kingdom from the skies.
Every pirate present sucked in a sharp breath.
The legendary pirate... the "Flying Admiral"... the true tyrant of the New World—Golden Lion Shiki!!
But even more terrifying than his title was his nature.
Unlike other pirates, Shiki wasn’t bound by reason or restraint.
He was capricious. Brutal.
Wherever he passed, towns turned to scorched earth.
Civilian? Pirate? Marine? Even factions under the World Government—
If he wanted to kill, he killed. No hesitation. No mercy.
Borsalino’s golden blade clashed with King’s flame-wrapped sword, shockwaves exploding outward.
"Well, this just got a lot more interesting..."
Borsalino muttered, glancing lazily at the figure in the sky. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
King’s expression had gone rigid.
Golden Lion Shiki... at the More-More Fruit auction...
He was no ordinary pirate.
This was a man who’d once sailed alongside Kaido—not as a comrade, but as a superior.
When Shiki ruled the seas with the Rocks Pirates, Kaido had still been a mere apprentice.
Sengoku, a Marine Admiral... and Golden Lion Shiki, a true living legend...
This situation just became a nightmare.
Bullet’s eyes gleamed, pupils dilated with excitement. He licked his lips.
"To finally meet the man Captain Roger acknowledged as a rival... Golden Lion Shiki..."
"Now this—this was worth coming for."
His whole body trembled with anticipation, his gaze bloodshot.
"If I fight him... I’ll definitely grow stronger."
The moment the thought formed, he began scanning the surroundings—looking for anything to use as a launchpad.
He couldn’t fly. To reach Shiki, he’d have to leap his way through the wreckage.
"Shiki!! You finally showed yourself!!"
Sengoku shouted suddenly, voice full of hostility.
Shiki’s wild laughter echoed across the sky.
He scanned the battlefield, chaos and smoke rising from below, and sneered.
"I really should thank you, Sengoku. If it weren’t for you holding back these pests, they might’ve gotten their hands on the More-More Fruit..."
"That would’ve been annoying."
His eyes flashed with killing intent.
"The More-More Fruit... is mine."
Without another word, he drew his twin blades.
A cold gleam shimmered along their edges—razor-sharp and deadly.
The famed swords: Oto and Kogarashi.
Blades that had carved a path of blood through the sea at Shiki’s side.
No windup. No aura. No grand announcement.
Shiki simply smirked—and swung.
It looked effortless. Light. Even casual.
But Darren’s pupils contracted.
That motion—he recognized it.
It was just like... Garp’s punch.
A golden crescent of sword energy surged from the sky, tearing toward Sengoku like a scythe from heaven.
Eyes widened in terror.
It split the sky. Ripped the air.
A blow like a divine whip, obliterating everything in its path.
Sengoku roared, golden light flaring beneath his feet. The War Buddha leapt into the air—
The sky exploded with sound. Eardrums shattered. The impact knocked everyone sideways.
The golden Buddha shattered the sword wave midair—but the leftover shock sliced deep into the earth.
Everyone stood frozen.
The ground beneath them... cracked.
Until it became a thousand-meter rift, slicing across the Island of Coins—splitting half the island in two.
Buildings, streetlights, rooftops... all sank into the abyss, swallowed by dust and collapse.
Shiki’s laughter rang out like a devil’s chorus over the apocalyptic scene.
Pirates and criminals from every corner of the world stood frozen in place.
And in that moment—they understood.
They had witnessed...
The true terror... of a real pirate.