The deck reeked of iron and smoke.
Kuma's roar shook the timbers, a guttural bellow that scattered gulls into the sky. His massive paw came down like judgment, splintering planks, spraying blood in arcs across the world government's pristine insignia.
The CP0 agents were trained killers, elite even among elites. But their rhythm was shattered the moment their commander's broken corpse hit the floor. Panic dulled precision. Fear widened their stances, slowed their reflexes. And against Kuma's brute force, even hesitation meant death.
One man tried to vault away on Moon Step, legs kicking desperately as he sought the safety of the air. Kuma's paw slammed upward with shocking speed. A crack split the sky as the man's ribs imploded. He fell screaming, body folding unnaturally before vanishing into the waves.
Another agent thrust a finger forward, calling out the name of his technique. "Shigan—!" His cry cut short as Kuma's shoulder barged through his strike. The bear's jaws clamped down on his neck, tearing muscle and sinew. The man gurgled once, then silence.
Blood pooled, soaked, spread.
The last of them faltered, blade trembling in his grip. His eyes darted to the Celestial Dragon for orders, but Charlmak Saint was already half-collapsed, shrieking and spitting, his pudgy hands flailing. "Protect me! Protect me, you useless scum!"
The man hesitated. That was all it took.
Kuma's paw blurred, a black blur against the light. The final agent folded in two, chest crushed flat, organs bursting outward with a grotesque spray. His body tumbled across the deck like a broken doll.
And then there was silence.
Only the slap of waves against the hull, the wheeze of timbers strained, and the faint sobbing of the Celestial Dragon.
Jin stood still throughout, hands in his pockets, violet eyes cool. He watched Kuma's violence without flinching, without interruption. When the last body fell, he exhaled through his nose.
"…Sloppy, but effective," he muttered.
Kuma's chest heaved, his breath ragged with exertion. But his eyes gleamed—bloodlust not yet cooled. He turned once toward Jin, waiting for another order.
"Enough." Jin's voice was calm, firm. "The rest are mine."
Kuma snorted, paw lowering. He obeyed, though his claws twitched with leftover hunger.
The deck was now a slaughterhouse.
The Celestial Dragon's wails rose again. "You—you can't do this! I am a god! Do you hear me, mongrel? A god! You will—"
"Shut him up." Jin's voice carried no anger, no humor. Just cold disinterest.
Kuma's shadow loomed. Charlmak Saint's face drained of color. He shrieked for protection. Only one man remained to give it.
Vice Admiral Godee.
He stood frozen, knuckles white around his saber. His mind screamed at him to intervene, to protect the World Noble whose life outweighed a hundred thousand commoners. But his body—his body refused to move. He had just watched CP0 slaughtered like pigs. What chance did he have?
His answer came not from himself but from the Den Den Mushi in his grasp.
"Godee!" Sengoku's voice thundered through the line. "Report status!"
The Vice Admiral jolted, fumbling to bring the snail closer. "Fleet Admiral! CP0 has fallen! The intruder—he—"
The snail's stalk-eyes shifted, transmitting the scene to Marineford.
Across the seas, in the Fleet Admiral's office, Sengoku leaned forward. The projection hovered over his desk, smoky but clear enough to show Jin's relaxed silhouette, the corpses at his feet, the monstrous bear looming behind him.
Sengoku's lips pressed thin. But before he could speak, laughter erupted beside him.
"Kuhahahaha!"
Garp's booming laugh shook the room. He slapped his knee, grin splitting his face. "It's him! That damned brat again. I told you he wasn't the type to hide forever."
"Enough, Garp." Sengoku's voice was steel. "Do you know what this means?"
"Yeah," Garp drawled, leaning back. "Means that puffed-up Saint stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Jin's lazy, but poke him too much and he bites. Hard."
"This is not a game!" Sengoku slammed his fist onto the table, rattling the snail. "That is a Celestial Dragon. If he dies, the Nobles will demand the Navy burn half the seas to avenge him. We cannot allow that."
"Then send an Admiral." Garp's grin thinned. "Why throw me in?"
"Because you know him. You've fought monsters like him before. And—" Sengoku's eyes narrowed, voice dropping to a hiss. "—because I trust you more than the Admirals not to let this spiral into a war."
Garp groaned, rubbing his temple. "Spare me your speeches. You just want me to clean up."
"You'll do it," Sengoku snapped. "Or I'll personally see your shore leave revoked for the next five years."
The office fell quiet.
Then Garp muttered, "You dirty bastard." He reached for the snail. "Fine. I'll talk to him."
Back on the battlefield, Vice Admiral Godee swallowed thickly as the snail in his hand shifted, its eyes bulging, its mouth stretching into a caricature of Garp's grin.
"Oi!" The voice thundered, rich and sharp. "This is Vice Admiral Garp. Hand that over to the kid with the violet eyes."
Godee froze. His throat bobbed. Then, stiff as a puppet, he began to walk across the blood-slick deck. Step by step, each one heavier than the last, until he stood five meters from Jin.
He bowed low, extending the snail with trembling hands. His voice cracked. "Sir… Vice Admiral Garp wishes to speak with you."
Jin tilted his head. His gaze slid to the snail, then back to the quivering officer. His smile was faint, unreadable.
"…Garp, huh?" he murmured. A spark lit his eyes—recognition, amusement, danger all in one. "It's been a while."
The waves whispered. Kuma's breath rumbled. The Celestial Dragon whimpered.
And Jin reached out his hand.
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T/N :
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