Chapter 239: The End of the Red-Haired Pirates?
Aboard the Red Force,
the tip of Yasopp's long sniper rifle was scorched black. His arms trembled slightly as he spoke:
"Sorry, everyone… I've reached my limit. I won't be able to shoot again for a while."
Using both Observation and Armament Haki drained immense stamina.
If not for Yasopp's long-range sniping, which kept the Marine elites under constant pressure, the pirate coalition would have already collapsed.
"It's fine, Yasopp."
Beckman puffed on a cigar, frowning. He too was heavily injured.
"If this keeps up, defeat is only a matter of time. We have to break through the wall in one blow."
He had already taken down fifty Marine giants.
But with new Marines constantly being promoted and joining the [Marine Headquarters] family,
they could keep using the Level 2 [Giant's Might] emblem to produce new Marine giants.
In other words—
while it seemed like they were facing only two hundred giant Marines,
as long as the Marines had manpower, they could generate unlimited giant troops.
Even the Rocks Pirates of old wouldn't be able to win a war of attrition against endless elite giants—much less just one Yonko crew.
And brute force wasn't an option.
Even Beckman didn't have enough strength to smash through the Marine formation and shatter the fortress wall.
He might be the First Mate of a Yonko,
but this was the era of the Reincarnation Game.
A player who had spent 50,000 reward points could rival him in power.
And there were four Marine vice admirals who had reached that threshold.
Doflamingo crouched on the ship's railing, smirking mockingly.
"The mighty Red-Haired Pirates… This is the first time I've really seen you in action. What a disappointment."
Beckman scowled. "Heavenly Yaksha, all you know is how to run your mouth?"
In the past,
Doflamingo wouldn't have even qualified to stand on the Red Force.
Now, other than Mihawk, he was one of the strongest around.
The Red-Haired Pirates had no choice but to cooperate with him—at least temporarily—to resist the Marines.
"I'll hold off Smoker. The rest is up to you."
Mihawk's wounds were slowly healing. Gripping the black blade Yoru, his expression remained cold as ever.
Potions could heal the body,
but the toll taken on one's spirit during battle was very real.
At this level, it was a war of endurance—of will and stamina.
Mihawk never imagined he'd feel this much pressure from a Marine captain who'd once been an obscure name before the Game.
Battle resumed in full force.
"Gunners… FIRE!"
Hundreds of Marines launched ranged attacks—archers, riflemen, even the rare class of cannoneers.
Arrows rained down,
infused with elven magic, undead energy, elemental chaos, and more.
"I've got this!"
Limejuice, a Red-Haired Pirate fighter, leapt into the air.
His golden hair exploded in length, forming a massive shield that blocked the arrow storm.
Although the Red-Haired Pirates were all second-tier elite players,
they couldn't withstand the Marines' unrelenting assaults forever.
After landing back on the deck, Limejuice was breathing heavily.
"I need… a minute to rest."
His power—controlling the growth and structure of his hair—was a unique awakened superpower.
Its defense and offense were excellent,
but it drained stamina at a terrifying rate.
He had used it continuously since the battle began.
His cells were crying out, wrinkles appearing on his face—a side effect of overusing his ability.
Any more and he would die from accelerated cellular aging.
With two major forces down,
the Red-Haired Pirates' offensive weakened.
The Marines seized the opportunity, swarming forward.
Warships packed with Marines completely surrounded the Red Force.
"Mihawk, even if you beat me, this battle is lost."
Smoker's voice was icy,
his Toxic General swinging a massive weapon and spreading a deadly purple haze.
Mihawk said nothing. He no longer used wide-reaching slashes.
Instead, he tightened his grip on Yoru.
His strikes grew intricate, unpredictable.
Across the many worlds—
some were high fantasy. Others were low-powered martial worlds.
Some didn't have divine power,
so they explored technique—learning how to use weak moves to defeat stronger foes.
"A thousand worlds, a thousand sword paths.
If I want to reach the peak of swordsmanship, I can't only pursue overwhelming force."
"Every sword style is worth studying."
Expressionless, Mihawk slashed again and again.
Each stroke barely stirred green flame,
but they still parried every blow from the massive Toxic General.
"Damn it… this isn't working!"
Though Mihawk had been holding back,
Smoker felt the pressure growing.
He used two bottles of crystal-clear energy potion, like liquid starlight.
His energy gauge surged.
The Toxic General, which Mihawk had previously cleaved in two, began regenerating—
lotus-root-like tendrils reached out from the wounds, pulling the halves back together.
Smoker exhaled slowly.
"The real world isn't like the Game. Mihawk… die!"
The godlike Game Merchant might manipulate life and death,
but he only granted resurrection to Game-linked regions.
In the real world, players were just like anyone else.
If you died—you were gone.
This move—
Smoker had planned to save it for his revenge against Dragon.
But now… he had to use it early.
"Five Venom Palm!"
At his shout,
the Toxic General raised its hand.
Then… its feet disappeared. Then its legs, waist, arms—every trace of poison flowed into the massive hand.
Until all that remained was a giant, purple-red flaming palm hanging in the sky.
[Storm Riders] world's ultimate poison technique: Five Venom Palm.
It required devouring five different elemental poisons to master.
Each one doubled its power.
So far, Smoker had mastered fire poison.
It was enough.
Even Mihawk—another top-tier player—wouldn't survive this palm.
The burning palm descended.
Mihawk raised his head.
His hawk-like eyes narrowed.
This move… rivaled Dragon's Word Spirit, [Black Storm], which had destroyed Death Island.
To unleash something like this—yes, this was what made a true top-tier player. A peak Tier-1.
Fortunately—
Mihawk was one as well.
"Emerald Flame Sword Style: Ghost Warden!"
A brilliant green flame erupted, freezing the soul itself.
This was the complete form of the earlier incomplete technique that had shattered the Soul Reaper's Hall.
The power of a true ghost warden.
The two attacks collided.
The sea fell silent.
Cracks like spiderwebs split the air. The sound of shattering glass rang out.
The flames—both toxic and emerald—were so destructive they briefly tore the very fabric of space.
Had that not happened,
everyone—pirates and Marines alike—would have been annihilated.
Even so, the shockwave devastated the battlefield.
The Red Force was blown into the air. The Marines' fortress wall was split open.
Dozens of pirates and Marines were smashed into the seafloor like cannonballs.
"Mihawk… to fight for Red-Haired like this… I guess those rumors were true."
"Unfortunately… this is the end."
The waves stilled.
Smoker had lost consciousness.
His bloodied body was embedded in the fortress wall.
Mihawk knelt on a broken ship plank,
barely staying upright by gripping Yoru.
As Smoker had said—
though the duel was decided, the Red-Haired Pirates had lost the battle.
Even Beckman had been captured, shackled in seastone and sealed by a Rune Master vice admiral.
Two hundred Marine giants surrounded the exhausted Mihawk.
At the front stood Vice Admiral Dalmatian, wearing his signature spotted dog hat.
"To capture the Red-Haired's crew and the world's strongest swordsman… unbelievable!"
The Marines were elated.
Who would've thought these legendary figures could ever be caught?
Now they would be sealed in the Demon-Sealing Tower,
a declaration to the world from the new Marine Headquarters.
"What about Red-Haired? Did he already escape?"
Dalmatian scanned the area. Shanks was nowhere in sight.
If the captain escaped, the glory of the capture would be diminished.
Then—
A voice rang out.
"Adventurers may retreat—but they never abandon their companions."
"Heard you were looking for me?"
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