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Chapter 67 - After the Standoff, There’s No Going Back

"What is that?!"

"A ship?!"

The people on the palace rooftop barely had time to react before instinctively scattering in all directions.

Still weak from her ordeal, Vivi was carried away in Robin's arms, while Cobra was yanked aside by Crocodile.

BOOM—

The black ship came crashing down like a meteor, slamming into the upper level of the palace. The impact tore away a massive section of the rooftop, leaving only the outer flooring intact.

The vessel itself had only its prow damaged — the rest of its hull remained firm and unbroken, jutting into the shattered palace like a black sword driven into the earth, waiting for a giant to come and pull it free.

Pell the Falcon and Chaka the Jackal weren't struck directly, but the collapsing stone walls sent them tumbling down to the palace's lower levels.

"What's going on?"

"What just happened?"

"Why did a ship fall from the sky?"

The people in the plaza below had almost forgotten about the sudden storm. Now all eyes were locked on the impossible sight of the black ship, a strange and heavy premonition welling in their hearts.

Something terrifying and world-shaking was about to happen here.

Through the dust rising from the wreckage, dark figures appeared on the ship's deck.

They stood among the damaged timbers, scanning their surroundings. Soon, their eyes locked with those of the people still on the ruined rooftop.

Crocodile spat out his cigar — it had long been soaked through by the downpour.

Water. Without question, the thing he despised most in the world. He had no doubt that this storm had been brought here by the people aboard that ship.

What he didn't know was how they'd done it.

A Devil Fruit ability? "Dance Powder"? Or some unknown force at work?

He pulled Cobra under the overhang of what remained of the roof, shielding them both from the rain.

His sharp eyes searched the black ship until they found a familiar face.

Familiar… though he'd never met the man in person.

But over the past days, he had stared long enough at that bounty poster to memorize every detail: the writhing tentacles that covered the man's shoulders and chest, the tall triangular hat, the cold gray-blue eyes that seemed to glow in the storm.

There was no mistake. This was Davy Jones himself.

Why was he here?

And how had they managed this?

Cobra, consumed by the crisis in his kingdom, knew little of the "Reverse Mountain Sea Battle" and was unfamiliar with this fish-man's identity.

Even so, the way this group had arrived left him stunned — and deeply unsettled.

And Davy Jones's presence… it was impossible to ignore. Even in the raging storm, his aura blazed like a beacon in the dark.

Step by step, Davy Jones descended from the black ship, his boots crunching sharply on the rubble.

His crew followed in silence, each with their own expression — wary, grim, or simply awed.

In truth, even the crew of the Terror Ghost hadn't been told in advance how they would arrive.

The captain had only said the ship was about to set sail.

None of them imagined the entire vessel would be lifted straight out of the sea, floating into the air — leaving the sea cow MoMoo drifting aimlessly behind — before plunging into a deep, shadowy tunnel.

Before they could process what was happening, the ship had emerged over the royal capital, descending from the heavens!

Only Davy Jones himself knew exactly how they'd made the sudden leap from the ocean to here.

It was one of the Terror's Ghost abilities — to travel instantly between two fixed "anchors."

One anchor was the sea cow still waiting at sea. The other… was Vivi.

Which meant the ship had appeared directly above her, falling toward her like a guillotine.

If Robin hadn't moved her in time, she would have been crushed into pulp.

"Ah!" someone cried out — the braided girl, Marianne. "That's Davy Jones's crew! I recognize their faces — and the flag on the mast!"

It was a statement of the obvious — nearly everyone present already recognized them.

Vivi was utterly stunned. She had thought Davy Jones's crew had either been crushed by Baroque Works' ambush or fled to some distant sea.

She never imagined they would reappear here, at this moment — and in this way.

The short, round Drophy pointed at someone at the very back of Jones's crew and shouted:

"You! You're Miss Valentine, aren't you?! I thought you and Mr. 5 died together in battle — how are you still alive?!"

"How do you think?" Marianne replied seriously. "Obviously she betrayed Boss Mr. 0, betrayed Baroque Works, and joined up with Davy Jones."

"A traitor, huh?!" Dorothy's squat frame quivered with rage, as if she might leap forward and rip Mikita's face off. "You dared to betray Mr. 0 and Baroque Works!"

At the back of the crew, Mikita hid beneath her parasol, shielding herself from the rain, her expression awkward.

She didn't explain. She didn't dare.

After all, if Davy Jones could bring the Terror Ghost here in an instant, he could probably take her life just as easily.

And even if she tried to explain, Crocodile and the senior agents of Baroque Works wouldn't believe her.

Almost as if proving her fears, Crocodile's gaze fixed coldly on her — the killing intent plain in his eyes.

Mikita understood. There was no going back now.

She stood even closer to Alvida, planting herself firmly among Jones's crew.

The wrecked rooftop now held two opposing groups, facing each other in tense silence. Only the sound of the pounding rain filled the air.

"Which one of you is Crocodile?" Davy Jones finally broke the quiet, his gaze settling on the slicked-back man in the heavy coat. His Observation Haki told him this one was different. "It's you, isn't it?"

Crocodile narrowed his eyes. "Davy Jones… I didn't expect to meet you like this."

"If I could avoid it, I wouldn't have come here myself," Jones replied evenly. "But you tore up our contract — our agreement. That makes me… unhappy."

A contract?

Over that?

Crocodile's irritation flared.

He had orchestrated an ambush, even worked with the Navy — but the results were disappointing. Other than capturing Vivi, he had nothing to show for it, and even the million Berries were gone.

And now they weren't satisfied — they'd come here to settle accounts?

At this exact moment, of all times?

Crocodile wanted to snap back… but one glance at the pouring rain, at the water pooling on the rooftop, and at the king still in his grasp, cooled his temper.

This environment was not in his favor. And his main goal here was not yet achieved — he couldn't risk a fight now.

"Baroque Works agents — stay here and hold them off," Crocodile ordered after a brief pause. "Robin, you're with me."

Without hesitation, Robin released the now-useless Vivi, letting her slump to the ground, and strode toward Crocodile.

In the drenching rain, Davy Jones stood tall, his crew arrayed behind him, staring down the senior agents of Baroque Works.

At Crocodile's command, Jones's tentacles writhed in a slow, chilling smile.

"I'm surprised you think you can walk away from here unharmed."

Crocodile didn't reply. He gathered sand around himself and Cobra, surging into the corridors to escape downward.

Robin followed close behind.

Remaining behind were Daz Bonez, Miss Doublefinger, Bon Clay, Mr. 3, Marianne, Babe with his dog, and the squat Dorothy — all standing guard as ordered.

Davy Jones let out a low snort. "Then let's begin. If they've chosen to stay, they can pay the price in his place."

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