Several massive warships smashed through the waves and formed a tightening ring, completely sealing off Loguetown's harbor.
Steel hulls linked together into one wall. Dark cannon muzzles pointed toward the shore, forming a barrier that felt utterly hopeless.
On the decks, Marine soldiers stood in neat ranks, the long rifles in their hands reflecting an icy sheen.
Ahead of them, five figures stood out sharply.
Pure-white justice coats flapped in the sea wind, and the stars on their epaulets marked their identities—Marine Headquarters Vice Admirals.
At the front was Vice Admiral Doberman. Several scars cut across his face, and his eyes were fierce.
He vaulted down from the flagship's railing, heavy boots landing on the pier stones with a dull thud.
The other four Vice Admirals followed, their movements crisp and unified, landing without a sound.
Their arrival made the entire harbor feel oppressive.
The pirates on the docks had long since been cleared away. Only the Straw Hats remained—along with Shinju, standing in front of them.
"Outsiders. This farce ends here," Doberman said impatiently. "The World Government's patience is limited. Surrender, and come with us to Marineford."
Shinju looked at the five Vice Admirals without the slightest change in expression.
He only raised his hand and spoke into a miniature communicator.
"Sakumo-san. You're up."
Thanks to Tobirama's Hiraishin no Jutsu (Flying Thunder God Technique), they could even temporarily pull someone across time and space—though it wouldn't last long.
The moment Shinju finished speaking, a figure appeared between him and the five Vice Admirals.
White hair.
A standard Konoha jonin vest.
A mask covering most of his face, revealing only a pair of calm eyes.
At his waist hung a short blade that gave off a pale-white chakra glow.
"Who are you?!" one Vice Admiral demanded sharply.
The way this white-haired man appeared was far too bizarre—completely beyond their understanding.
The white-haired man didn't answer. He merely placed a hand on his hilt.
Doberman's brows tightened. He couldn't sense any overwhelming aura from this man at all—he felt almost ordinary.
And yet… that only made Doberman's unease grow stronger.
"Playing tricks!" another hot-tempered Vice Admiral snapped. He stomped down, cracking the ground.
"Soru!"
His figure vanished from where he stood.
The next instant, he was already at the white-haired man's right side, striking toward a vital point.
"Shigan!"
A blow like that could punch through steel.
The white-haired man still didn't seem to react, standing there as if he hadn't even noticed.
Doberman and the others watched coldly. They had absolute faith in their comrade's ability—this Soru plus Shigan combination was a kill move refined through countless battles, nearly impossible to evade.
But at the instant the finger was about to connect, something strange happened.
The white-haired man blurred like a reflection in water.
The strike passed through an afterimage, hitting nothing.
A sharp crack rang out from the force cutting through the air.
The Vice Admiral's eyes widened, and he tried to retreat—
Too late.
A cold sensation brushed past his neck.
He didn't even see how the other man moved.
"Second," Doberman muttered.
He and the remaining three Vice Admirals moved together.
"Soru!"
Four figures rushed in from four completely different directions, becoming hazy shadows as they attacked at once.
Popping booms echoed through the air—the sound of them kicking off the ground at extreme speed.
For a split second, the pier looked like it was filled with dozens of Vice Admiral afterimages, swallowing the white-haired man whole.
"Too slow."
A calm voice sounded.
Sakumo lowered his stance slightly, and the White Fang finally left its sheath.
No dramatic blade-light.
No flashy technique name.
Just a single pale flash.
Doberman—charging at the front—only caught that flash.
Even his trained eyesight couldn't follow the motion.
Instinctively, he coated his arms in Busoshoku Haki and crossed them in front of his body.
"Tekkai!"
The strongest defensive form among the Marines' Rokushiki.
But the crushing impact he expected never came.
That pale flash slipped past his guard as if it had found a gap that shouldn't exist.
Doberman froze.
At the same time, the Vice Admiral attacking from the left about to unleash a Rankyaku powerful enough to cleave—halted mid-motion as if a switch had been flipped.
The one on the right unleashed a storm of Shigan afterimages, like heavy rain—
But his target was already gone.
The last Vice Admiral, charging from the center, watched his three comrades stiffen within a heartbeat. A chill shot up his spine.
He tried to stop. Tried to pull back.
But inertia wouldn't let him.
All he could do was watch the white-haired figure appear right in front of him.
Those calm eyes looked straight through him.
He saw a flash of steel.
And then the world seemed to pause.
In less than a second, Sakumo was back where he started.
White Fang was already sheathed again, as if it had never been drawn.
The four Vice Admirals who had attacked all stood frozen in their assault stances, unmoving.
The pier fell into dead silence.
From the distant warships, thousands of Marines stared with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to make a sound.
What just happened?
Did the fight even begin?
Why weren't the Vice Admirals moving?
Doberman swayed, trying to turn his head and see the white-haired man's face.
But all he caught was a cold, indifferent back.
One by one, the Vice Admirals collapsed—downed in the wake of that single exchange.
Four had fallen after the charge, and the fifth—who hadn't attacked—finally started trembling uncontrollably.
He stared at the white-haired man like he was looking at a nightmare given form.
He couldn't even comprehend the movement that had just happened.
"M-monster…"
His nerve broke. He turned and ran toward the warships.
Sakumo vanished again.
When he reappeared, it was behind the fleeing Vice Admiral.
White Fang slid out with a soft whisper, traced a clean line through the air, and returned to its sheath.
The Vice Admiral's sprint faltered. He stumbled forward a few steps, then dropped heavily to the ground, unmoving.
Five Headquarters Vice Admirals—down.
The entire process took less than three seconds.
On the warships, Marines finally snapped out of their shock and screamed in terror.
"The Vice Admirals are down!"
"What is that thing?! Is it a demon?!"
"Run! Set sail! Get away!"
Order collapsed completely.
Soldiers threw away their weapons and shoved their way toward the cabins, desperate to get away from the harbor—away from the white-haired nightmare.
The scene spiraled out of control.
On a rooftop not far away, Shinju lowered the communicator in his hand.
Beside him, a virtual screen displayed the battle data from the moment it started.
The Vice Admirals' movement paths.
Their attack patterns.
Muscle exertion habits.
Even their heart-rate changes.
Everything had been clearly marked and analyzed.
The instant the fight began, all that data had already been transmitted to Sakumo.
For a top-tier shinobi who carried the name "White Fang," with intelligence like that in his hands… the result had been decided from the beginning.
Nearby, Madara stood with arms crossed, looking down at the one-sided crushing with a detached gaze.
This level of speed domination didn't interest him much.
But one detail did.
At the last moment, Doberman's arm had turned pitch-black, its hardness rising sharply.
"Interesting."
"That's a technique that coats energy on the surface of the body, creating offense and defense at once."
Madara's Sharingan shifted slightly, as if it were analyzing the nature of that power.
"If that technique could be applied to Susanoo… that would be even more interesting."
A dangerous idea took root in his mind.
Down at the harbor, the Marine fleet was already in chaos. A few warships even collided from panicked, sloppy maneuvering.
The encirclement meant to wipe out the Straw Hats…
Was a complete failure.
(End of Chapter)
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