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Chapter 9 - I’m Making My Move

"Can you people take this seriously for once?" Ghost Spider rolled his eyes, irritation flaring.

"Ah, come on," Doberman (Great Dane) waved lazily. "It's just a few small-tim—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Both his eyes bulged. His face went pale.

"Holy hell—Crocodile? Bundy World? The Red... The Redfield?!"

The other Vice Admirals froze. Doberman's eyesight was the sharpest among them, and if he was panicking, then there was no mistake.

Charging straight down the dock were four figures, radiating killing intent like a storm.

Three in front, one behind.

It was Arthur's crew.

"Redfield, he's yours!" Arthur shouted cheerfully, tossing the thunderous blade Raiju toward the old swordsman.

"Raiju, hm?" Redfield caught it with one hand, his eyes glinting. "Feels like a fine blade indeed."

With a faint smile, he swung.

A scarlet arc of sword energy ripped through the air, shrieking across the harbor—

BOOM!

Four massive Marine battleships split cleanly in half, their hulls sheared as if carved by a god. The ships tilted, breaking apart as screaming Marines tumbled helplessly into the sea.

Arthur's eyes lit up.

This old man's still got it.

The four Vice Admirals' expressions darkened instantly.

"Damn it, Sengoku didn't tell us this! Who the hell sends a regular unit against monsters like these!?"

Even if they could stall Crocodile or Bundy World, no one here could handle Redfield.

Ghost Spider's face twisted with fury as he grabbed a nearby officer by the collar.

"Contact Headquarters—now! We need an Admiral, fast!"

"Y-Yes, sir!"

But before the poor man could even get his den-den mushi, the four escapees had already reached the docks.

Redfield didn't wait for introductions—he moved first.

Blade in hand, he lunged straight for Ghost Spider.

The Marine Vice Admiral reacted instantly. His hair writhed and split apart, transforming into eight bladed appendages — the notorious Eight-Sword Style: Arachnid Slaughter. Each tendril wielded a blade of its own, joining the ninth in his hands.

Nine-Sword Flow vs. Crimson Sword Demon!

Steel clashed against scarlet fury.

Beside them, Crocodile surged forward, slamming into Bastille, their attacks tearing up the pier. Sandstorms met Armament Haki head-on, the two locked in a vicious stalemate.

Bundy World, on the other hand, squared off against Doberman, the canine Zoan user.

Both were speed demons — one fueled by the Moa Moa no Mi, the other by the Inu Inu no Mi and mastery of the Rokushiki techniques. Their blows blurred into streaks of motion, colliding midair in thunderclaps of speed and power.

And that left just one Marine unengaged — Burning Mountain (Onigumo), standing there with a faint, almost bored smile.

He eyed Arthur — a young man with no bounty, no record, no name — and snorted.

"Well, aren't you unlucky, kid. I hate picking on small fry, but you'll do. Hands behind your head, kneel quietly, and I'll make sure it doesn't hurt too much."

Around him, a dozen Marines burst into laughter.

"Hah! A brat who thinks he can escape Impel Down?"

"He's charging a Vice Admiral—what's he got, a death wish?"

"Kid, just surrender. No need to get your face rearranged!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Arthur sighed and shook his head.

"The Marines really have gone soft, huh?"

That shut them up.

Burning Mountain's smile faltered.

"What did you just say?"

Arthur looked at him as though examining a particularly slow student.

"Did Headquarters not give you a briefing? You don't even know who led the Impel Down breakout?"

That made the Marines blink. A few glanced at one another in confusion.

Burning Mountain chuckled, waving it off.

"Hah! Don't tell me you're trying to claim that title for yourself? You? Stronger than Crocodile, Bundy World, and Redfield combined?"

Arthur nodded seriously.

That was all it took to send the Vice Admiral into hysterics.

"Hahahaha! You're a funny one, kid. Got to admire your confidence though!"

The others doubled over laughing, clutching their sides.

"You hear that? This brat thinks he's the leader of those monsters!"

"Guess we found our comedian!"

Arthur's gaze sharpened.

"So... you plan to kill me?"

Burning Mountain's expression hardened.

"Last chance—surrender now. Resist, and you'll be executed on the spot."

"Good." Arthur smiled faintly. "That's what I wanted to hear."

And then—he vanished.

BOOM!

In the blink of an eye, he reappeared right in front of the Vice Admiral.

"I'm giving you fair warning," Arthur said softly.

"I'm making my move."

Lightning exploded around him as he drove forward, thrusting out with a glowing arm —

The Strongest Spear: Four-Finger Strike!

Burning Mountain's instincts screamed danger. His hands crossed before his chest, Armament Haki flooding his arms just in time—

CRACK!

The impact rang like a cannon blast. Arthur's fingers slammed into the Haki barrier, and for a moment, the two forces locked.

Then the Marine was blasted backward, flying more than ten meters before skidding to a stop, his arms shaking violently.

Shock flickered across his face.

"That power...!"

The Marines nearby froze, their mocking smiles wiped clean.

Moments ago, they'd jeered. Now, none dared make a sound.

A single hit — and a seasoned Vice Admiral had been sent flying.

Even worse, Arthur hadn't used any Haki of his own. Just raw, unfiltered power.

Arthur chuckled quietly.

"Vice Admirals really are a different breed," he admitted, impressed. "That was full power, and he still managed to block in time."

Burning Mountain gritted his teeth, suppressing the numbness crawling through his body. His hand tightened around his blade.

This time, there would be no more holding back.

Arthur tilted his head slightly, smiling again.

"Oh? Taking me seriously now?"

He raised one hand, lightning crackling across his palm.

"Too late for that."

The Marines stiffened, realizing too late what was about to happen.

Arthur's eyes narrowed.

"You were wondering who the ringleader was, right?"

A smile split his face.

"Let me show you."

He disappeared in a blur of thunder.

"—I'm making my move."

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