The shrill screams of the Celestial Dragon echoed through every corner of the World Government's official ship.
Inside the cabin, the woman who had been brutally lashed and lay bloodied on the floor stared blankly at the writhing "god" in front of her. Her mind went completely blank.
That Marine... he struck a Celestial Dragon.
He was trying to kill a Celestial Dragon!
Did he have a death wish?
Anyone who dared defy a Celestial Dragon would inevitably face the World Government's wrath—admirals would be dispatched. It was an unbreakable law of the seas.
Darren frowned and waved his hand with mild irritation.
With a metallic screech, two rebar rods burst from the floor and pierced through Saint Shaldes's feet, nailing him to the wall like a grotesque painting.
Blood poured from the punctured limbs, pooling rapidly beneath him.
"AAAAHHHH! You're dead, Darren! Dead!"
The pain sent the Celestial Dragon into another fit of screaming, his vision dimming.
He was a Celestial Dragon—born atop the world, a so-called god. In all his life, he'd never even scraped his knee, let alone suffered a wound .
"I always thought gods bled gold," Darren murmured. "Turns out it's just red, like the rest of us. So much for divinity."
Saint Shaldes glared at him, eyes bloodshot.
That damned, insufferable smile—disdainful, cold, like he was looking at an insect.
It made his blood boil.
Even now, Darren showed no fear.
That trembling fear Celestial Dragons expected from commoners—it wasn't there. And that made Saint Shaldes furious.
"Aren't you afraid of the World Government's retaliation!? You think you can get away with this!?"
"Who's going to know it was me? I mean, look around..."
He gestured to the mountains of treasure stacked in the room.
"As far as anyone in Batiya is concerned, I'm just the North Blue scumbag who bent over backwards to curry favor with a Celestial Dragon."
"Who'd believe a Marine dared strike one of you?"
He was losing blood fast, his mind spinning.
"Darren... I don't get it. Why do this?"
A sudden realization crossed his face.
"It's that girl, isn't it?"
Darren didn't reply. He didn't need to.
Saint Shaldes's face contorted with disbelief.
"You're doing all this—for a commoner? A filthy little street rat!?"
Darren stared down at him. The blood was now soaking his boots.
"She's not just a commoner."
"She's a citizen—under my protection."
"Why does it matter!? She's a nobody! And don't pretend to be righteous—I know what you are! You propped up mob families, bled the poor for coin! You're no better than me!"
He snapped his fingers.
With a sharp twist, the steel around Shaldes's right arm constricted—then ripped it clean off.
The Celestial Dragon shrieked as urine soaked through his luxurious robes.
"You're right. I'm no saint," Darren said quietly. "That's why I'm here."
"If I were a good man, I'd never have had the guts."
He looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I didn't even want to be here. All I wanted was to keep building up the fleet, keep the North Blue stable."
"But... I took their money."
Saint Shaldes gasped, eyes wild.
"I'll pay you double—ten times! You want women? I can give you women of any race—money, titles, rank—I'll have you promoted to Vice Admiral! Just say the word!"
"You can give me anything I want, huh?"
Shaldes nodded desperately. "Anything. Just name it."
"There is something I want."
Darren tilted his head and smiled, slow and cold.
"I want to kill you."
The Celestial Dragon froze—then burst into laughter.
"Kill me, and you die! You think the Government isn't watching!? There are surveillance Den Den Mushi hidden aboard every ship ! They've seen everything!!"
Darren's expression didn't change.
A terrible unease crept over Shaldes.
"Compared to the rest of your kind," Darren said, "you're surprisingly clever. So I'll give you a shot."
The restraints released, and Shaldes collapsed to the floor.
Darren tossed him a military transponder snail.
Saint Shaldes scrambled for the device.
His face drained of color.
"No... No, no, no—impossible. How—?"
The signal had been cut.
There would be no witnesses. No backup. No salvation.
"They... they won't know..."
Darren stood silently, electricity crackling at his fingertips.
He'd prepared for this. The moment Shaldes tried to take the girl, he made his decision.
He'd handed the girl his Vivre Card—tracking her route.
He'd gathered intel on the CP agents.
And most importantly—
He'd cut the ship's comms.
His Magnet-Magnet Fruit allowed him to create a field that disrupted all signals within a 100-meter radius.
The entire ship was under his blackout.
"Why!? If you knew I was stalling, why didn't you just kill me!?"
"Because killing you quickly would be too easy."
He remembered the looks of despair on the father and daughter's faces.
"I wanted you to taste despair."
In the reflection of its barrel, Shaldes saw his own terror.
"No!! I'm a Celestial Dragon! You can't—"
The bullet punched through his skull.
Red and white splashed against the cabin wall.
Saint Shaldes's body twitched.
"Damn it... over some filthy... commoner...?"
His corpse hit the floor.
His frozen expression was a
grotesque masterpiece of rage, disbelief, and terror.
Darren stood over him.
"That means I do the job."
"That's the law of the North Blue."