"How rare. A mere mortal actually managed to return safely from the Holy Land."
Waves lapped against the sides of the warship. On deck, rows of Marine soldiers patrolled back and forth, their boots thudding rhythmically on the wooden planks.
Amid them stood several figures cloaked in white robes and wearing masks—an unusual sight among the uniformed ranks.
Yet none of the surrounding soldiers seemed to notice them at all.
These newly inducted CP0 agents were acting under the direct orders of the Elders, assigned to escort the "wife" of a certain Celestial Dragon—Ginny—back to the place where she had been captured.
Faced with such a strange mission, they couldn't help but cast curious glances toward the cabin below deck.
"I heard that letting her go made that Celestial Dragon furious. He may not have had any real feelings for her, but she was his favorite toy..."
"There's no helping it. The Elders themselves intervened collectively. Even with his special status, he had no choice but to give in. After all, she's nothing but a lowly commoner from the mortal realm."
"I even heard they invoked Saint Orin's name just to make him back down..."
The two CP0 agents whispered quietly to each other until the sound of urgent footsteps interrupted them.
Thud thud thud thud...
"Officers! The escort personnel suddenly started vomiting! Something's wrong with their bodies!!!"
"Nani?!?!"
The two masked agents immediately turned toward the voice and followed the soldiers to check on Ginny's condition.
Though their faces were hidden, their tone made their frustration and anxiety obvious.
After all, she was their assigned target—if Ginny died on the way, their own lives would surely be forfeit!!!
"Where's the doctor?!?!"
Outside, chaos grew louder.
Inside the cabin, the once lively and energetic Captain Ginny now lay pale on her bed.
Her hand rested weakly on her abdomen, and crystalline patches had begun to appear along her arm.
Her gaze was distant and complex.
"Kumo-san..."
...
"Do we really need to make such a big scene?"
Outside the damp, shadowy prison, Crocodile leaned lazily against the wall. Her sharp eyes swept across the overcrowded cell packed with all too familiar faces—many of the underground world's notorious figures now confined together.
She didn't particularly mind. Still, this meant the underworld was about to undergo yet another reshuffle.
"I may have retired, but I'm not dead. The underworld foundation still needs to be maintained—otherwise, what would I eat or drink in the future?"
Orin sat comfortably in a chair, one leg crossed over the other.
Seeing that most of the people were now in their proper places, he nodded in satisfaction, then turned to the cloaked figure beside him.
"Good work. You didn't disappoint me."
Beneath the dark hood, Tiger grinned, the scars on his face twisting into a fearsome expression.
"Of course."
At the sight of him, countless imprisoned underworld leaders stiffened. Their faces twitched, and terror filled their eyes.
...
(A classic pirate-style flashback)
One month earlier—
A luxurious yacht sailed across the sea. Black-suited mafia members stood in formation, surrounding a gathering of the most infamous underworld family heads from the South Blue.
They were there to discuss their next move.
With the world believing Orin to be dead, they saw an opportunity—to secretly ally with other South Blue powers and seize control when the underworld collapsed, each hoping to crown themselves as king.
But before their plan could even take shape, news of Orin's return struck them like thunder from a clear sky.
"It's fine. We only just started our moves—we haven't done anything excessive yet. Besides, haven't you heard? Orin-sama has announced his retirement from the position of [Emperor]. Many of the Black Sun Flags have already been reclaimed. Maybe he really plans to withdraw from the scene and stop meddling in the underworld..."
Before he could finish, the mafia godfather cut him off sharply.
"Stop entertaining such childish fantasies. Orin-sama stepping down doesn't mean the underworld has a new ruler."
Since Orin announced the recall of many Black Sun Flags, it had become an unspoken rule across the seas that attacking or seizing underworld territory was no longer seen as a direct challenge to Orin.
However, anyone engaged in the underworld trade still had to pay tribute to him—just at a reduced rate.
The percentage had dropped to two percent.
Even so, it remained a staggering amount. Combined with the Celestial Dragons' Heavenly Tribute, the wealth of the Seven Warlords of the Underworld (including Sammi), and the assets of the Golden City, Orin remained the undisputed richest person in the world.
His official dominion had simply narrowed to the territories of the Seven Kings of the Underworld, Duramos, half of Fish-Man Island (now destroyed), and the Golden City.
Although Sammi's main base only occupied one area of the Sabaody Archipelago, everyone tacitly acknowledged the entire archipelago as Orin's domain.
So, mafia families could die if necessary—but thinking they could stop paying was out of the question.
That was precisely why they had been targeted.
Externally, Enel handled enforcement. Internally, Tiger oversaw operations. With such power, Orin didn't need to dirty his own hands.
And if they ever encountered an enemy too strong for them to handle—well, Orin had no interest in fighting the entire world. But they'd better pray he never met them himself.
Otherwise, they'd learn firsthand what "Black Gun" really meant.
Unfortunately for this mafia family, they clearly weren't in the "too strong to deal with" category.
The waves churned violently, sea foam rising in white bursts.
No one aboard the yacht realized that a deadly shadow was moving stealthily through the depths beneath them, a pair of cold, predatory eyes locked firmly on their ship.
Clang—
A ripple of black energy spread through the water.
Tiger shot upward like an arrow loosed from a bow, his target locked on the bottom of the vessel.
Boom—
"What's happening?!?!"
"Sea King attack?!?!"
The yacht shuddered violently, sending everyone tumbling to the floor. Some unlucky ones were thrown straight into the ocean.
Splash—
Submerged in the cold sea, one man flailed in panic—until he spotted a shadow lurking beneath the hull, glaring up at him with icy contempt.
Gulp gulp gulp...
Through the waves, others saw a figure rising slowly from the deep.
"It's not a Sea King—it's a Fish-Man!!!"
"Just a filthy Fish-Man—"
A string of racial slurs filled the air.
Tiger's fists clenched tight, his rage barely contained.
Only the mafia godfather, who seemed to realize something, quickly raised his voice to stop the others.
"Wait—are you... sent by Orin-sama?!"
Tiger didn't bother to answer.
"Go die."
Clang—
Thick layers of Armament Haki wrapped around his arms, as powerful currents gathered in his palms.
In the battle that followed, Tiger faced countless foes—but not a single one could withstand him.
Even the giant bodyguards fell silent under his blackened fists.
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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