A gaunt man with half his face tattooed in the shape of a crimson scorpion stepped out, a strange sickle in hand.
An SSS+‐class killer.
Four other men in black sealed the remaining angles, murderous intent stretching taut.
All of them, SSS‐class.
They were a squad of ambush and assassination specialists. Cloaked by Aqua Laguna, they slipped in without a sound—so quietly that even Creed, drained as he was, didn't notice them at first.
In the distance, Redfield and the others spotted the threat and sprinted over to help.
The red-scorpion-faced man raised his sickle, its edge coated in Busoshoku Haki (Armament Haki), and chopped straight for Creed's head. "Don't blame me, Creed—blame the price on your skull!"
The other four struck for Creed's body at the same time.
With the power Creed had shown today, they dared not hold back for an instant. One strike at full strength—hit, and retreat.
The thick Haki-hardened blade gleamed with the light of death—ready to reap a life.
The next heartbeat, terror flooded their eyes—their bodies wouldn't move.
At some point, their lower halves had been encased in a thick shell of black ice.
Only now did the sheer, piercing cold reach their brains and explode outward, making them groggy. A natural reaction to ultra-low temperature invading flesh and blood.
"Impossible! My Busoshoku Haki can't stop this cold!?"
The scorpion-faced man shuddered, Haki surging as he tried to shatter the ice gripping him—but it was useless. The frost only climbed thicker and heavier, locking him in place. He could even feel an irresistible sword aura—Sword Domain—ripping through everything inside him.
Creed was no longer lying down. He sat up, thoughtful. "Six billion? Don't tell me the underworld bounty on me just went up. Doflamingo's already finished—so which bastard did this?"
He was spent, but his Sword Domain still blanketed the area; swatting petty gnats like these was no problem.
"Damn you—don't ignore me! I'm Red Scorpion, I—aaagh!"
Outraged that Creed wasn't even looking at him, the scorpion-faced killer howled. A small thunder wyvern flashed into being, and a pillar of lightning crashed down, turning him into a charred husk.
"You okay?" Redfield and the others arrived. Creed shook his head lightly. "I'm fine."
"Red Scorpion—an infamous assassination outfit in the New World," Crocodile said, frowning after hearing that last scream. "They often work with CPO and rarely fail. Looks like your six-billion bounty is enough to make even top assassins gamble their lives. Captain, it seems you'll have more risks ahead."
"Flies aren't risks," Redfield sniffed.
If they couldn't even pierce the afterglow of Creed's Sword Domain while he was exhausted, they'd never get another chance once he'd recovered.
"Wow…" Robin gasped.
Only atop this frozen berg could one see how terrifying Aqua Laguna's final blow truly was: a wall of sea, more than two hundred meters tall. For a hundred li around, everything had become black ice, not a sign of melting anywhere. Heaven and earth were reduced to crystal white, gleaming like a world of diamond. The sight shook her soul.
"Alright, let's head back. Once the ship's finished, we announce our pirate crew to the world," Creed said, rising—his face no longer so pale. "Crocodile, you handle it. Make it as grand as it gets."
With the giant's power in his body, his recovery outpaced any ordinary person's by a wide margin.
"Relax. I'll make it beautiful," Crocodile promised.
What they didn't expect: when they returned to Water 7, the whole city erupted in a mountain-crashing, wave-like cheer.
People shouted Creed's name, tossing flowers and confetti—like welcoming a Celestial Dragon's visit with top-tier pomp.
"What's going on?" Creed looked toward the port, where Iceburg was waiting to greet him—beside a number of well-dressed people who clearly held no small status.
"Creed-sama, please accept the heartfelt thanks of every citizen of Water 7. This once-in-a-century Aqua Laguna—without you, our city would have been destroyed!" Iceburg and the others bowed deeply.
"Mayor, you're too polite. I just wanted to protect my ship. No need to make a fuss," Creed said with a wave.
Iceburg and the dignitaries stiffened slightly. So humble and measured—nothing like the arrogant, vicious demon painted on his bounty poster…
"From here, our shipyards will set aside other orders and mobilize every shipwright we have. We'll finish your warship within two days," Iceburg continued.
That made Creed smile. He'd already been here more than ten days. Another ten or eight on top of that would be mind-numbing.
Enies Lobby, Tower of Justice. Spandam's office had been silent for a long time.
"The Red Scorpion Pirates—useless," Spandam muttered, grinding his teeth as he stared at the projection of Creed returning like a hero, loved and cheered by the crowd.
Then he noticed something that made his blood boil. "Baskerville, why are you kneeling here? Get out!"
The fool had been so stunned by Creed freezing Aqua Laguna that he'd fallen to his knees without realizing it.
After Baskerville scrambled out, Spandam answered a new call—and nearly fainted on the spot.
In three days, Creed would found a pirate crew in Water 7—and announce it to the entire world.
Everyone knew Water 7 was linked to Enies Lobby by the Sea Train—they were practically next-door.
Founding a pirate crew beside Enies Lobby?
A slap across the face—for him, the man in charge of Enies Lobby.
No—more like a slap across the face of the entire World Government.
"Creed! To hell with you!"
He finally snapped and flipped his desk over.
"You want to make it big? There are still people in this world who can handle you."
Breathing hard, face contorted, he dialed the Five Elders and Marine Headquarters again.
Very soon, word that Creed would found a pirate crew in Water 7 spread like wildfire across every channel—rocketing to front-page headlines worldwide and setting the whole world ablaze.
The eyes of countless great powers and peerless fighters turned to Water 7.
The winds were rising.
Everyone understood: to found a pirate crew beside Enies Lobby, then proclaim it to the world—that was blatant provocation of the World Government.
Would the World Government sit still and let it happen?
What a joke.
(End of Chapter)
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