40: Chapter 40 Bring the ship closer!

The sea mist was completely torn apart, and the sunlight fell upon the rolling, dark green waves, refracting a pale, shimmering light.

At the end of the horizon, the massive wooden warship flying the hourglass and twin-sword skull flag had already completed its encirclement.

Dozens of pitch-black, heavy muzzle-loading smoothbore cannons on the three-tier gun deck were locking their aim with every rise and fall of the ship, their cold, cast-iron barrels gleaming with a greasy black luster under the sunlight.

At the very front of the warship's deck, Mr. 1, Daz Bones, clad in a pitch-black feather coat, stared coldly at the harbor.

Several uneven, flesh-colored scars crisscrossed his face, and the flesh of his arms beneath his clothes faintly exuded a metallic, hard texture.

"Miss Doublefinger, that man is the top of the East Blue leaderboard."

Daz Bones's voice was deep.

The fingers of his hands hanging at his sides moved slightly, slicing through the air and producing a series of sharp, whistling sounds.

Beside him, a woman with an afro, wearing a tight, high-slit dress, held a long pipe between two slender fingers.

Miss Doublefinger, Paula.

She exhaled a puff of blue-white smoke, her slender legs crossed in the sea breeze, her eyes, adorned with deep purple eyeshadow, gleaming with a lazy yet cold light.

"Oh my, that useless Mr. 5 actually had his leg bones crushed in an instant. However, this rookie named Rice only has a bit of strength. In this Grand Line, one cannot survive on brute force alone. Your slashes should be able to mince him into pieces in an instant, right?"

In the eyes of these agents, who lived in the first half of the Grand Line and lorded over others by relying on their Devil Fruit abilities, they had no access to the true power of the New World.

According to their intelligence, Rice was merely an adventurer who had smashed a few Marine branches with sheer brute force.

"Whether it is iron or human, before my blades, they are nothing but flesh waiting to be butchered."

Daz Bones sneered, his black steel boots stepping on the deck, making a dull, heavy thud.

...

Meanwhile, on the steel deck of the white dove.

Rice stood with his hands in his jeans pockets, his messy black bangs whipping wildly in the wind.

His fierce, pitch-black eyes locked onto the opposing warship across a thousand meters of sea.

His gaze swept over Miss Doublefinger's shapely body in her tight, high-slit dress, a calm, scrutinizing look flashing deep in his eyes.

Whether it was Mikita, who was already on board, or Paula, who was currently lost in the darkness, as long as they entered his sight, they would eventually find their true home on this white dove in the future.

"Lord... Rice... Her Highness the Princess cannot stay here! Crocodile is a demon!"

Igaram remained on his knees in the middle of the shattered bricks, tears streaming down his old face as his forehead slammed heavily against the muddy blue bricks.

Rice withdrew his gaze and looked down at the old man who was willing to lurk in the darkness for his kingdom.

On his sharply contoured, cold face, the fierce expression faded slightly, replaced by a sense of composure.

He pulled his right hand out of his pocket, his rough palm steadily supporting Igaram's arm. With a slight exert of force, he lifted the elderly guard Captain up from the mud.

"Igaram, stand up."

Rice's voice was calm and deep, yet it carried an unquestionable sense of power that instantly drowned out the howling wind of the harbor:

"Now that you're getting on in years, retreat to the back cabin. Makino has prepared red bean cakes inside. Go have a cup of hot tea to calm your nerves before you leave."

Igaram was stunned.

He looked up at the shirtless young man before him. In those dark eyes, there was no panic in the face of a Shichibukai warship, only an unbelievable composure.

"But... that is Crocodile's warship..."

Igaram's throat bobbed, his voice hoarse.

"I know who he is, and I know what he wants."

Rice turned around and pulled Princess Vivi, who was kneeling on the deck, to her feet.

His broad, warm palm gently patted Vivi's delicate shoulder. Then, he took a long stride forward, standing like an insurmountable cast-iron wall right in front of the blue-haired girl.

"Vivi, since you've boarded my ship, I will carry the burden of your country to the very end for you."

Rice turned his head and instructed the orange-haired girl on the high steering platform:

"Nami, no need to move the ship. Leave it to me."

"Understood, Captain."

Nami pursed her red lips and released the pure steel lever with her slender fingers, her watery eyes filled with unconditional trust.

"Mikita."

Rice turned his head to look at the short, yellow-haired girl standing at the edge of the engine room:

"Adjust your weight to ten thousand kilograms and weigh down the stern. Don't let the commotion over there shake the red bean cakes in the cabin."

At this moment, Mikita was gripping the steel guardrail tightly, her knuckles turning white from the excessive force.

Just minutes ago, she was still a high-ranking agent of Baroque Works, treating the lives of rookies as playthings.

But now, her once-arrogant partner, Mr. 5, was lying in the nearby pile of rocks like a dead dog.

And she herself had her pride completely shattered by this man before her, using physical strength akin to a god or demon.

Betray the President?

In the past, this was a taboo she wouldn't even dare to think about.

Crocodile's cold, brutal methods of purging were a lingering nightmare for every agent.

However, when the dozens of heavy cannons opposite them suddenly aimed in their direction, and Nami, Nojiko, and even the powerless Vivi showed no sign of the expected panic on their faces, something deep inside Mikita was fiercely stirred.

Especially when Rice's broad, warm palm pressed on Vivi's shoulder and said, "I will carry the burden of your country to the very end for you" in such a matter-of-fact tone, an unprecedented jealousy actually surged within Mikita's cold, numb heart.

In that Baroque Works, built on conspiracies and slaughter, women like them were merely tools that could be disposed of at any moment.

Yet this steel ship named the white dove felt like a sanctuary that offered absolute security.

"Since I've already fallen into his hands..."

Mikita glanced at Rice's bronze back, then at the distant syndicate warship that represented destruction.

She let out a long breath, the confusion and fear deep in her eyes replaced in this instant by an almost-frenzied gambler's mentality.

She was going to make a bet.

Bet that this man could also trample Crocodile under his feet.

She wanted to stay on this ship, to remain in the sanctuary that belonged to this man.

"Yes, Captain!"

Mikita responded loudly.

She stomped her feet hard on the steel deck, her movements no longer hesitant as before, but instead carrying the crisp efficiency of a helmsman of the white dove.

Her Devil Fruit power instantly surged into action, her soles planting firmly on the rear deck of ship, channeling ten thousand kilograms of gravity downward without reservation.

In that instant, the massive ship sank slightly, its hull remaining as steady as a mountain amidst the rolling waves.

...

Boom!! Boom!! Boom!!

Out on the distant sea, the heavy warship of Baroque Works completely spat fire in this instant.

The roars of dozens of heavy cannons converged at the same time into a sudden clap of thunder.

Solid cast-iron cannonballs tore through the damp, cold air, drawing parabolic arcs and hurtling straight toward the moored ship with ear-piercing shrieks that threatened to destroy everything.

Facing the dense crowd of cannonballs raining down from the sky, Rice stood barefoot on the white-quartz dove figurehead, his expression grim.

[Soru]

Boom!!

A ring of white, air-like ripples burst out from the white-quartz dove figurehead.

Rice's figure abruptly appeared in mid-air, a hundred meters in front of ship.

His entire right leg turned a pure, pitch-black color in this instant.

The ink-heavy Armament Haki flowed and locked tightly onto his bone surface, pulling out streaks of sharp, black lightning.

Without making any attempt to dodge.

Rice twisted his waist and swung his leg in mid-air, his powerful right leg like a whipping steel lash, drawing a vacuum pocket in the empty air.

[Rankyaku: White Dove Heavy Wave]

Boom!!

A massive, crescent-shaped white vacuum slash, carved out of the air by sheer physical strength, extended for over a hundred meters in this instant.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

An endless series of metallic shattering sounds merged into one in mid-air.

The moment those solid cast-iron cannonballs touched this vacuum slash executed purely through martial arts, they couldn't even hold out for a single second before being brutally sliced into countless tiny iron shavings, raining down into the sea.

The heavy cannon barrage was completely shattered.

Mikita pressed down on the stern with all her might, her eyes wide as she stared unblinkingly at the god-demon-like figure in mid-air.

When she saw the sky full of cast-iron cannonballs kicked into dust, her breath caught in her throat.

"The strength to defeat Sea Kings."

"Combined with the speed to shatter cannonballs..."

Mikita murmured, her heart, which had been in her throat due to her betrayal...

Was now replaced by a fanatical admiration.

Using the recoil, Rice's figure landed steadily back onto the steel deck.

Across a thousand meters of sea, his dark eyes, filled with playfulness, locked onto Daz Bones and Miss Doublefinger.

Meanwhile, on the deck of the agent warship.

The smiles of Daz Bones and Miss Doublefinger completely froze on their faces in an instant.

"What was that?! He didn't use a sword... He actually sliced those cannonballs with his leg?!"

The pipe in Miss Doublefinger's hand shook violently, spilling a large amount of hot ash onto her thigh clad in the high-slit dress, but she forgot to even wipe it off, her deep purple eyes filled with unbelievable horror.

"Atomic Spurt speed!!"

"Bring the ship closer!"

Daz Bones's scar-covered face twisted completely.

With the sound of metal scraping, his arms instantly transformed into sharp steel blades. He growled, his entire body leaping high from the warship with the sound of breaking air. His arms swung wildly in mid-air, weaving a dense, airtight net of blades as he slashed down madly toward Rice at the berth!

However, in the face of this slash that was enough to mince rock into dust, Rice merely stood cold in his place, his right fist slowly drawing back. The pitch-black on his fist condensed into a roaring black-iron beast in this instant.

Just at the moment their attacks were about to clash, a cold gunshot rang out from the pile of rocks behind Whiskey Peak!