The battle on the western flank raged fiercely as three figures tore through the naval ranks, carving a path of destruction.
Mr. 1's arms transformed into gleaming blades, each swing slicing through the air with a sharp whistle. He sidestepped incoming bullets effortlessly, his left arm arcing out to cleave two marines' swords in half with a metallic screech, while his right blade thrust forward, precisely disarming a third.
His movements were crisp and efficient, the cold steel of his blades still smeared with fresh blood.
"Breeze Breath Bomb!" Nearby, Mr. 5 casually exhaled toward the encircling marines. The faint white airwave brushed against their uniforms before detonating violently, the shockwave hurling debris and sending half a dozen men sprawling.
Paula fought with even greater ferocity. Thorny spikes erupted from her bare feet, coiling up her calves like vines. Each step she took carried a razor-sharp momentum.
"Thorn Trample!" She spun and kicked toward a marine on her left, the spikes tearing through his pauldron and drawing a spray of blood.
"Jacket Feather Cage!" Black, fence-like bars shot up from the ground like living tendrils, weaving into an impenetrable cage midair before slamming down.
Mr. 1 reacted the fastest, leaping back several meters and landing safely outside the cage.
But Mr. 5 and Paula weren't as fortunate—the black bars locked around their elbows and knees the moment they formed, immobilizing them completely.
"It's you!" Mr. 1's expression darkened as he glared at the figure standing beyond the cage, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips.
Hina, clad in her marine captain's uniform, stood with one hand on her hip and the other holding the cigarette. Smoke curled lazily from her lips, dissipating into the haze of battle.
"Remnants of Baroque Works... more troublesome than I expected," she remarked, flicking the cigarette butt aside and grinding it under her boot. "The debt from Alabasta comes due today. This time, you won't escape."
No sooner had she spoken than a voice, dripping with nonchalance, sounded behind her.
"What was that about not letting anyone escape?"
Hina stiffened, her fingers clenching involuntarily. A bead of cold sweat trickled down her temple as she turned slowly, her movements rigid.
There stood Bahr, Black Sword Autumn Water resting casually on his shoulder, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips—one she knew all too well. The sight of it twisted her stomach into knots.
His gaze swept over her, taking in her windswept pink hair parted down the middle, the barely concealed fury behind her purple-tinted shades, and the Justice cloak draped over her rose-red uniform. The usually composed officer now radiated tension.
"Long time no see, Hina. Missed me?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing.
"You—!" Her face paled instantly, a vein throbbing at her temple.
The humiliation from the Alabasta desert surged through her memory like a floodgate breaking open. A sharp pang shot through her chest, as if she were back in that moment when he had held her completely at his mercy.
When news of Bahr's arrest had reached her, she had spent half the night in her office, sneering at the reports, convinced that justice had finally been served—that the score from Alabasta had been settled.
But just moments ago on the battlefield, witnessing him unleash that Conqueror's Haki that shook the entire field, that overwhelming pressure that swept through heaven and earth made her heart tremble violently, followed immediately by surging fury.
This bastard not only escaped but dared to run wild so brazenly at Marineford!
Her hands had been trembling then, itching to charge forward and tear this bastard to pieces to wash away her humiliation. Yet reason firmly suppressed this impulse—she knew she was no match, and forcing a fight would only add fresh disgrace.
That's why she'd vented her anger on the remnants of Baroque Works, thinking to clear out these scum first.
Who could have imagined she'd run into the main culprit right here.
"Bastard, Hina will arrest you!" Hina practically roared these words, her eyes behind the sunglasses burning with stubborn fury.
Fully aware of the disparity in their strength, yet with the enemy standing right before her, the pride of a Marine wouldn't allow retreat. Even with slim chances of victory, she had to draw her blade.
She lunged forward abruptly, right arm bent at the elbow, driving toward Bahr's side with enough force to split the wind. Yet when her arm was still ten centimeters away, it collided with an invisible wall.
A dull "thud" echoed as excruciating pain radiated up her arm. Hina felt as if her bones were about to shatter.
Her eyes widened in shock as she peered through her sunglasses at the empty space between them. There was clearly nothing there, yet an unseen barrier blocked her attack completely, not even disturbing the slightest fold of Bahr's clothes.
Bahr observed Hina's tense profile as she strained, his tone growing even more teasing: "Throwing yourself at me right away—Hina sure is passionate."
These words ignited a powder keg, instantly reminding Hina of his parting words in Alabasta: "Next time we meet, let's greet each other more passionately."
Looking at her current posture—elbow bent, arm extended—it really did look like she was trying to throw herself into his embrace.
Humiliation and anger overwhelmed reason. She yanked her arm back, forming her other hand into a fist to swing at Bahr's face: "Bastard! You're asking for death!"
Before her fist could rise, her wrist was caught in an iron grip she couldn't break free from.
"Tsk, still so impatient," Bahr chuckled lowly, pulling her arm toward him effortlessly.
Hina felt brute force surge through her, her balance vanishing instantly as she crashed heavily into Bahr's chest. The impact against his unyielding torso sent sharp pain through her ribs, forcing out a muffled groan. Her sunglasses slid down her nose with a "click," revealing eyes brimming with astonishment.
Bahr glanced down at the sunglasses teetering on Hina's nose, unable to hide his amusement: "You crashed into me yourself—can't say I'm bullying you."
Before Hina could react, something soft suddenly pressed against her lips. Her eyes flew wide, her entire body freezing as if her blood had solidified. Instinctively, she tried to clench her teeth.
But Bahr seemed to have anticipated this, withdrawing slightly before she could act.
"You—!"
Hina wrenched free from his grasp, staggering back several steps. She wiped her lips furiously with the back of her hand as if touching something filthy, spitting repeatedly onto the ground until saliva dotted the gravel.
Her face burned crimson, the flush reaching the tips of her ears. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes blazed with a mix of shame and fury like dancing flames: "Hina... Hina is humiliated! Hina is furious!"
Bahr pursed his lips slightly, recalling the softness that had pressed directly against his chest, silently marveling at the ample curves of this pink-haired commodore. Watching Hina's "fierce" yet hesitant demeanor, the amusement in his eyes deepened.
Such lively reactions were far more entertaining than the clashing blades on the battlefield.
Indeed, playing the villain occasionally was truly satisfying.
"Heh." Bahr chuckled softly, ignoring the fuming Hina as he turned toward Mr. 5 and Paula, still trapped within the Jacket Feather Cage.
With a casual flick of his fingers across the iron bars, space itself seemed to split under an invisible blade. The interwoven bars shattered instantly, sending the two stumbling out of their prison, their faces still pale with lingering shock.
Hina clenched her fists tighter, knuckles whitening, a flicker of conflict flashing in her eyes before she suppressed the urge to charge forward.
Acting now would only invite trouble.
Yet the humiliation surged like tidal waves against her chest. She wiped her lips again, spat fiercely, and glared at Bahr's retreating back, teeth grinding audibly. "This debt will be repaid sooner or later," she vowed silently.
What was this called? Enduring humiliation to fulfill a greater purpose.
"Boss, what's next?" Mr. 1 stepped forward, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever, his voice sharp and concise.
Bahr's gaze swept across the chaotic battlefield. In the distance, Marines surged like a tide toward the retreating Whitebeard Pirates, artillery fire blooming like orange flowers in the sky.
He spotted familiar figures—Sky Island's guards fighting with their backs against broken walls, the four God Enforcers scattered across different corners.
"The Whitebeard Pirates are in full retreat," Bahr remarked calmly, withdrawing his gaze. "No need to keep tangling with the Marines."
Pausing, he tapped the hilt of the Black Sword Autumn Water lightly. "Gather the Sky Island forces and the God Enforcers. Prepare to withdraw at any moment."
Ace was dead. Whitebeard had fallen. This war had ultimately become the Marines' extermination campaign. He had come here to disrupt the Navy, not to throw his people into the meat grinder. There was no reason to let his men become targets.
The true rulers of these seas were never the Four Emperors—it was the Navy.
Waving the banner of "Justice," backed by the World Government, with endless soldiers and weapons at their disposal, their headquarters brimming with elites, even their rank-and-file rigorously trained.
In the end, the Marines were an overwhelmingly vast force of violence, maintaining order across these waters with absolute power.
Mr. 5 rubbed his nose, fingers brushing against soot-stained skin, muttering a vague "Understood." Paula smoothed her skirt, disheveled by the iron bars, nodding silently. Mr. 1 remained his usual stoic self, not sparing a single glance around as he turned toward the Sky Island guards.
The three quickly vanished into the smoke and dust of battle, leaving Bahr standing alone, the Black Sword Autumn Water resting against his shoulder once more, its hilt pressing firmly against his back.
His gaze stretched beyond the ruins before him, settling on the fiery edges of the battlefield...
On the other side, Hancock steadied herself against her serpent's head, watching intently. The moment Bahr had leaned in close to Hina had been crystal clear in her sight.
"Who... who is that woman?" Hancock clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug deep into her palms, her voice trembling with barely suppressed fury.
The air around her grew heavy, and the giant serpent behind her sensed its master's displeasure, flicking its tongue rapidly.
Unwanted images flashed through her mind—just moments ago, Bahr had kissed her with such intensity, yet in the blink of an eye, he was showing the same affection to another woman!
"Could it be... could it be that I've been cast aside?" The moment this thought surfaced, Hancock's face drained of color. Her pride in her beauty, her authority as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea—all of it suddenly felt like a cruel joke.
An invisible hand seemed to squeeze her chest, suffocating her. Her legs gave way, and she staggered back half a step. If not for the serpent catching her with its body, she might have collapsed right then.
Even so, her spine could no longer stay straight. The haughty gaze that once looked down upon the world was now clouded with unshed tears, her voice trembling in a way she didn't even realize. "No... it can't be... Lord Bahr would never..."
"Just... just some insignificant person," she murmured to the empty air, as if trying to convince herself. Yet her clenched fists had turned white at the knuckles.
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