Vice Admiral Doberman couldn't help but stare at the figure seated casually on the pier, her legs crossed, eyes scanning the horizon as if the world itself was hers to command.
Admiral Agana—a name whispered with both respect and fear. She looked young, too young to bear the title of Admiral, yet there she sat, her composure as regal as any monarch's. The way she carried herself unsettled many of the officers gathered on the dock, and for Doberman, her presence alone was enough to shake his expectations.
"I thought Admiral Hazard would be leading our side in this mission…" Doberman muttered under his breath, clearly uncomfortable.
A veteran Vice Admiral leaned closer, his voice barely audible as he replied, "Admiral Agana's status is... special. Just don't forget, she's a World Noble herself." He cast a quick glance toward the white-masked CP0 agents flanking Agana, standing like statues beside her, their presence adding weight to the already oppressive atmosphere.
The scene was one of organized chaos—ten Marine battleships anchored at the shores of Kano Country, a force too massive for even the most hardened of pirates to ignore.
Nearly ten thousand Marines were being deployed in waves, an army that dwarfed even the strength of a standard Buster Call.
Adding to this, the Happo Navy, led by the once-notorious Don Chinjao, and the full military forces of Kano were also in play, every hand prepared to crush the target of their mission: Donquixote Rosinante.
"This is overkill. An Admiral, five Vice Admirals, and ten thousand troops... Not to mention a former Overlord of the New World on our side," Vice Admiral Onigumo sneered as he lit a cigar.
"That bastard Rosinante doesn't stand a chance. Hell, if he knows what's good for him, he'll tuck his tail and run."
The arrogance in Onigumo's voice was palpable, his smirk one of confidence, even as the enormity of the task before them loomed large.
Failure wasn't an option—if they let Rosinante escape, the backlash would be catastrophic, not just for the mission but for the Marines as a whole. Yet Onigumo's nonchalance contrasted starkly with the more measured voices around him.
Vice Admiral Momonga, who stood nearby, couldn't hide his unease. He stepped forward, the tension clear in his posture as he surveyed the deployment. "You're underestimating him, Onigumo. If anyone here truly understands what we're up against, it's Admiral Agana."
His voice carried a weight of experience, and for a moment, the other Vice Admirals fell silent, feeling the gravity of his words. The air was thick with anticipation, yet beneath it all was an undercurrent of dread.
Despite her outward calm, Admiral Agana's subtle vigilance didn't escape Momonga's notice. Her fingers lightly rested on the hilt of her katana, an almost imperceptible gesture, but to those with keen senses, it spoke volumes.
She wasn't relaxed. Agana had nearly killed Rosinante once, cornering him in Marineford during the ambush years back. She knew better than anyone the true nature of the beast they were now hunting.
The boy they once knew had become a man—a monster. His talents had surpassed even hers back then, and now, years later, she wanted to see for herself how far the so-called "fool" had grown.
"Is it true that he held back Kaido and Admiral Raylene in Punk Hazard? At the same time?" Another Vice Admiral asked, his voice low, as if afraid to acknowledge the rumors aloud.
Momonga nodded gravely.
"The reports... they're hard to ignore. Rosinante is not the man we once knew. He's dubbed an Emperor, and one doesn't get such a title without being able to step on all other pirates out in the sea."
Vice Admiral Onigumo, still puffing on his cigar, scoffed. "I don't care what the reports say, or what rumors call him. With the forces we've amassed here, we'll crush him. He's probably already turned tail, knowing that we are waiting for him."
But Momonga wasn't convinced. "Do not let overconfidence blind you. The fact that none of the three Shichibukai that we wanted here have taken the bait is already concerning. They know something we don't. We should assume we'll be dealing with this ourselves."
Onigumo grunted, his skepticism unshaken, but Doberman and the others seemed to take Momonga's words to heart.
There was a gnawing uncertainty now. A force stronger than a Buster Call, with an Admiral, five Vice Admirals, Cipher Pol agents, and an entire nation's military at their backs—it should have been overwhelming. But there was something about Rosinante that unsettled even the most experienced of them.
"Trust me," Momonga added, his gaze hardening. "Rosinante will come. He's not the type to run from a fight. Just don't make the mistake of thinking this will be easy."
Agana, still seated, said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, but the subtle tension in her posture spoke volumes. She knew exactly what Rosinante was capable of. The truth was, she didn't come to Kano Country out of a sense of duty alone.
She came because, deep down, she wanted to face him again. To see how far the boy who had once rivaled her had come. The idea thrilled her, though she would never show it.
Momonga's voice broke the silence once more, firm and resolute, "Stay sharp, all of you. We're not hunting a man—we're hunting a monster."
And as the final preparations were made, everyone felt the same thing in the pit of their stomachs: Rosinante was coming, and when he did, they would need everything they had to stop him.
Agana's eyes sharpened like blades as she stood slowly, the lazy calm that had cloaked her like a veil suddenly gone. Her gaze locked on the horizon, where the setting sun painted the sky in hues of crimson and gold. Amidst the fiery backdrop, a small speck appeared, just a blip at first, but rapidly growing larger.
It moved with deliberate purpose, a force of inevitability heading directly for Kano Country's shores. There was no doubt in her mind: Rosinante had come.
At the bow of the massive ship, I stood, eyes narrowed in the distance. The island was still far off, but my Observation Haki had already mapped out the battlefield ahead, picking up on every presence waiting for me. A smirk curled on my lips as I sensed who was leading the Marines.
"It's been years, Agana," I muttered to myself, feeling the familiar pull of rivalry rise in my chest.
Beside me, Lucci, barely ten years old, stared at the island with a chilling hunger in his eyes.
"Do we have enough?" he asked, the bloodlust in his tone far too mature for his age. His raw killing intent could make even hardened warriors hesitate.
"Yeah... Ross, don't hog all the fun," Smoker chimed in, inspecting his newly reinforced Seastone weapon, eager for battle.
I turned to the crew. "Dora, stay back and protect Robin and the others. Miyamoto san, Lucci, Smoker—you're with me on the island." My voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. I needed strong people to stay behind, especially with Robin and Mansherry on board.
"But… Ross, I want to fight too…" Dora started to protest, but a sharp glare from me silenced her. She knew the stakes, and the ship needed guarding. I wasn't about to be caught off guard, not during a fight of such scale.
As Robin peered through a spyglass, she glanced at me. "There's so many... It's like they're waiting for you, Brother Ross," she commented softly, a small smile playing on her lips.
"The more, the merrier," I chuckled, feeling the excitement of battle stir within me. Kano Country was no longer my concern. My sights were set on something far more thrilling—facing Agana once more.
Back on the shore, Agana's aura exploded, her Haki rippling outward like a tsunami, sending a shiver down the spines of every Marine present. Even Don Chinjao, the hardened leader of the Happo Navy, flinched as her presence pressed down on them like an invisible weight.
The sea around the island began to darken—slowly at first, but soon the waters turned crimson, as if blood was bleeding into the ocean itself. Agana's Devil Fruit, a chilling display of her power, had turned the sea into her blood domain. The entire shore seemed to pulse with foreboding energy.
From the deck, I watched the sea turn red, my smirk widening. "Such a grand welcome… looks like they're rolling out the red carpet," I said, my voice dripping with amusement.
I turned to Lucci, my tone shifting. "Lucci, if things get too intense, don't hesitate to use your Devil Fruit. Secrecy doesn't matter here—our lives do."
Lucci nodded, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. I had trained him for this. Even if the World Government suspected Vegapunk later, it didn't matter. For now, survival was key.
Turning my gaze back to the shore, my expression hardened. "Let's give them a response, shall we?" The crew tensed, knowing what was coming. My Conqueror's Haki, which I had kept dormant, surged to life. Like a slumbering dragon finally waking, my Haki tore through the sea and sky with overwhelming force.
Though we were still miles from the shore, the effects were instantaneous. The waves of Haki ripped through the Marine ranks, and even from this distance, the pressure was suffocating. Men staggered, their breaths caught in their throats.
The sheer weight of it crashed into them like a tidal wave, flattening anyone without an iron will. Weak-willed soldiers crumpled to the ground, unconscious before they even knew what hit them.
On the shore, Agana felt it first, the full brunt of my conquerors haki. Her calm façade shattered as her eyes widened in disbelief. She had never felt such an overwhelming force before, not even during her battles with the most fearsome enemies.
Cold sweat trickled down her forehead as her knees almost buckled under the weight of my Haki. Even her own Haki, honed through years of relentless training since Marineford, seemed to falter in comparison.
"What… what is this?" she whispered, her mind flashing back to the last time she had faced me, back at Marineford. The memory of my final attack from that day surfaced, sending a shiver down her spine. But beneath the fear, something else stirred—exhilaration. She had waited for this day, for this moment, for years.
The marines behind her weren't as fortunate. Terror gripped the ranks as soldiers, and even some seasoned officers, fell to their knees.
The moment my Conqueror's Haki exploded, it was as if death itself had descended upon the battlefield. The air became suffocating, heavy with an oppressive weight that sent shivers down the spine of every Marine and warrior standing on the shores of Kano Country.
The power was overwhelming—an all-encompassing force that crushed their wills as easily as stepping on an ant.
The half-million troops of Kano Kingdom, so numerous they had once seemed like an unstoppable tide, crumpled like brittle leaves under a hurricane.
Soldiers dropped to their knees, their eyes wide with terror as the ground beneath them felt as though it might crack and swallow them whole. Their screams were short-lived, choked off by the sheer weight of my Haki as it slammed into them like a sledgehammer.
The weaker-willed among them didn't even have time to cry out before they collapsed, foaming at the mouth, their bodies limp and lifeless.
"W-What is this?! I can't… I can't move!" one Marine shouted, trying to drag his legs across the ground. His face twisted with panic as he clawed at the dirt, desperately trying to flee the battlefield, but his body refused to obey. His arms trembled violently, his own limbs betraying him. He could only sob as he realized there was no escape.
Another soldier, his eyes filled with terror, gasped, "It's… it's like death has come for us... What kind of demon is this man?!"
Even the veterans of the Happo Navy, hardened from decades of battle, fared no better. As my Haki poured over the battlefield like a wave of pure malice, the majority of them were knocked out cold where they stood.
Don Chinjao could only watch in horror as his proud navy—the warriors he'd trained and led for years—fell one by one, their bodies hitting the ground with dull, lifeless thuds.
Some had foam frothing from their mouths, others lay still, their status unknown. It was clear many of them were already out of the fight, rendered unconscious before they could even draw their weapons.
Chinjao's heart pounded as he fought to remain standing, his legs trembling beneath the weight of my overwhelming presence. His fists, once confident and powerful, now shook with uncertainty.
"I've… I've made a grave mistake..." he whispered, his voice laced with regret. He had thought supporting the Mafia families was a bold, strategic move—an alliance that could hold against the young Rosinante. But now, faced with the unimaginable force I wielded, he realized just how wrong he had been.
"I've felt this pressure before," Chinjao muttered, his mind flashing back to his long-ago clash with Garp the Fist. But something about this... something about me was even more terrifying. "How can this be? How could someone this young... this boy, barely in his twenties, wield power that rivals even Garp?"
Around him, what remained of the Happo Navy groaned in pain. Those who still had consciousness were shaking, trying to crawl away, dragging themselves across the ground. Yet, their muscles refused to cooperate.
Some were so gripped by fear that their bodies betrayed them, unable to flee despite every ounce of their being wanting to escape the hell they found themselves in.
"I-I have to get out of here! I need to—" A Marine lieutenant, one of the higher-ranking officers, found himself unable to even finish his sentence.
His legs buckled, and he collapsed face-first into the dirt, unable to move as a wave of absolute despair washed over him. His last conscious thought was pure terror, realizing that no matter how hard he willed himself to run, his body no longer obeyed him.
In the chaos, Vice Admiral Onigumo gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he knelt, one knee already digging into the dirt. His sword was stabbed into the ground, barely keeping him from collapsing entirely.
"What kind of monster are we facing?" he gasped, his voice quivering with a fear he hadn't felt in years. His pride as a Vice Admiral meant nothing in the face of the overwhelming pressure that crushed down on him. His body, hardened from decades of war, shook as if it were about to give out entirely.
"Am I seeing things?" Vice Admiral Doberman whispered, his own voice shaking with disbelief.
His eyes were wide, staring up at the sky, where a massive, ethereal silhouette of a Reaper seemed to take form. An impossibly large figure wielding a scythe loomed over the vast sea, as if death itself had arrived to claim the souls of those who dared stand in my way.
The once bright sky had turned an inky black, with streaks of black lightning crackling violently, filling the heavens.
"How... how can Conqueror's Haki take form like that?"
Doberman's voice was drowned out by the thunderous rumble of black lightning overhead. The sky, once clear and calm, had darkened completely, as if the world itself was responding to my presence.
"Is this... really happening?" Momonga, another Vice Admiral, whispered in disbelief. His normally stoic face was twisted with horror as he watched the ethereal Reaper move, black lightning dancing around its form.
"I knew he would be strong... but this... this is beyond anything I could have imagined..."
Even the Vice Admirals, battle-hardened veterans who had faced some of the most dangerous forces in the world, felt their wills start to buckle. Onigumo, Momonga, and Doberman struggled just to keep themselves upright, but their bodies trembled with fear.
Rosinante's Haki was beyond anything they had ever encountered. This wasn't just the strength of an Admiral. This was something greater—the power of someone who stood on the same level as the Emperors of the New World, maybe even beyond.
From the corner of his eye, Chinjao watched as the once imposing forces of the Kano Kingdom, proud warriors with a long history of strength, fell like blades of grass being cut down by the wind.
His own soldiers, his legacy—the Happo Navy—was reduced to nothing but unconscious bodies lying motionless on the battlefield. Fear gripped his heart, and for the first time in decades, he felt true regret. He had thought his decision to side with the Mafia families was wise, but now it felt like the gravest error of his life.
As the sky darkened and the rumbling of lightning filled the air, the world seemed to bend to my will. Even Agana, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear, felt her Haki buckle under the weight of mine.
Her hands trembled, resting on the hilt of her blade as she tried to control the cold sweat running down her back. The years of training since Marineford, the countless hours pushing herself to surpass even Admiral level, felt insignificant in the face of this monstrous power. Despite her fear, a wild grin spread across her lips.
"This... this is what I've been waiting for," she whispered, her heart pounding with exhilaration. Her body was trembling, but her soul felt alive. She had trained relentlessly for this day, waiting for the moment to face me again, to test herself against the monster I had become.
But even as she braced herself for the battle to come, the Marines behind her were falling apart. Those with weak wills were already down, their bodies twitching or lying still. The veterans were barely holding on, their minds gripped by terror as they realized the true horror of what they faced.
I wasn't holding back.
And even as I stood at the bow of the ship, miles from shore, I could feel the immense power of my Haki washing over the battlefield. I felt the panic, the terror, the raw fear that had gripped every soul on that island. I couldn't help but be amazed at how much my Haki had grown. But still, I knew... it wasn't enough.
"I need to grow stronger," I muttered under my breath. My eyes narrowed as I looked toward the horizon, where the storm clouds and black lightning swirled ominously overhead.
"I only have a few more years... "A fierce determination filled my chest. "Before I challenge Garp again... and this time, I'm not going to lose."
The world wasn't ready for me. Not yet.
*****
Dear Readers,
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[Silent_stiele]