The incident at Mock Town had finally come to an end. The Weather Ship departed Jaya Island at full speed.
During this brief lull, Ren was deep in review—no, in planning for the future.
At present, the most important task was undoubtedly one thing:a breakthrough.
Specifically, the collective benefit granted by Space-Time: The Creator.
The domain's terrifying potential had only been partially revealed; its true power was yet to come.
Ren was looking forward to that moment. As for the domain's consumption units, there were plenty among the Sky Pirates of Skypiea to harvest.
The Angel of Glory, Zoro, and the others were all part of his fighting force.
Given the combat ability of the Skypieans, there was no way any enemy they met could defeat Ren's crew as they were now.
Next—came the Warlords of the Sea.
Of course, Ren's thoughts had shifted somewhat since before. In the past, his motivation was to avoid a head-on clash with the mighty Marines.
In his eyes, the Navy had clearly strayed from its path—but he couldn't deny that it did bring a semblance of order to the world.
Rotten as a corrupt power might be, it was still better than descending into utter chaos.
Now, however, things were different. His motive this time… was tied to a greater plan—one connected to that war which, in the original timeline, had dealt a devastating blow to the Navy: the Marineford War.
"Simply becoming a Warlord of the Sea may not be enough," Ren calculated silently."It'd be better to plant pieces within that system, to make my ideas possible."
If the World Government did not yet view him as significant enough to tilt the balance away from the Red-Haired Emperor, then he would just add more weight to his side of the scale.
After the Mock Town incident, one thing was clear: Doflamingo had struck a deal with the World Government, offering Ren's head as payment.
At the same time, Pica was dead and Monet had vanished—ties of mutual vengeance had already formed.
Doflamingo was clearly the most suitable target,but taking him down just to obtain a Warlord's seat wasn't Ren's style. Why settle for one meal when you could feast twice—or even thrice?
If memory served, the Golden Emperor Gild Tesoro was connected to Doflamingo through business dealings, and Ren himself had a need for him as well.
The vast quantities of gold taken from Skypiea needed to be sold off, and Tesoro was, by far, the most ideal broker within known territory.
Charging in to demand a deal outright would never work. But this Mock Town affair could serve as a perfect "door-knocker"—an excuse to open direct negotiations.
Then, with Doflamingo's head as leverage, he could approach the Golden Emperor to forge an alliance.
After all, there was one thing the two men shared—a hatred for the Celestial Dragons.
If he played that card well, the situation might take a completely new turn.
Ren roughly sketched the outline of his plan. Then, his thoughts drifted to Cavendish—the unexpected spoils of this operation. Perhaps the man could serve as a useful pawn.
But that would depend on whether Nojiko could save him.
Cavendish's frostbite was unlike that of the others frozen in Mock Town. Given Kuzan's state of mind at the time, it would've been perfectly normal for him to go all out when facing pirates.
The fact that Cavendish still drew breath was proof enough of his worth as a hundred-million-Beli man.
Ren went over to take a look. With Nojiko's upgraded flames, dealing with this degree of ice wasn't a problem.
In a small cabin aboard the Waver, Cavendish was placed in a large basin, slowly thawing out.
The melting water was frigid beyond belief, yet the heat from Nojiko's flames steadily raised its temperature.
Only when it was near boiling did Cavendish's ice sculpture finally revert to his original form—or rather, to something resembling it.
Strictly speaking, his condition was still dire. His skin had turned a ghastly bluish-purple, its texture grotesquely altered—stiff as stone, and seemingly brittle enough to crumble at the slightest pressure.
Ren immediately thought the thaw had been pointless.
Can't be saved—let him die—goodbye. A mental "Bian Que triple diagnosis."
But unexpectedly, Sas stepped forward.
"Leave it to me. I don't know why you want to save a pirate," he said calmly, "but I do have some confidence in handling this."
Sas studied Cavendish's body carefully.
"Weatheria," he explained, "is a sacred island of meteorological research.Though our focus is on weather, we've also studied illnesses. After all, we often find victims caught in freak atmospheric conditions.
We're not obliged to help them—but out of sympathy for our fellow humans, we usually do.I've handled frostbite of this level a few times before."
"I see," Ren nodded slightly, surprised. "Then I'll leave it to you. What do you want as compensation?"
Sas blinked in mild surprise, then shook his head.
"I just want to test my skills. It's rare I can be useful to someone."
"Then do as you wish. Whatever the outcome, it's fine."
Leaving those words behind, Ren departed with Nojiko. He had his own matters to deal with.
As he'd said earlier, the method that had made Kuzan believe Ren couldn't be killed—was, in essence, a trick.
His wounds hadn't vanished; they had merely been transferred to his future self.
A black-gold card appeared in Ren's hand.
He sat in a large iron pot salvaged from Mock Town, filled to the brim with water. Nojiko stoked the flames beneath it, heating the pot.
Of course—there were no seasonings: no peppercorns, chili, or star anise.
He wasn't cooking himself. This was a precise, targeted measure.
Let's begin.
Ren submerged himself in the rising warmth and took out the Space-Time: The Creator card.
Substitution Trait—activate!
Crack!
The black-gold card's metallic surface fractured into countless lines, spreading until it covered its entire face.
The ornate golden clock embedded in it shattered next, dissolving into shimmering fragments like mist.
Those brilliant, liquid-gold shards seeped into Ren's body—swarming like golden ants through his veins and bones—finally stopping at various points to sketch a clock-like pattern beneath his skin.
Hum—!
A strange resonance filled the air. The card restored itself, but now, behind the deep obsidian face and the gilded clock, a miniature image of Ren had appeared—trapped, as though sealed within a prison of time.
What a strange feeling…
Ren frowned slightly, gripping the card. It felt as though he had been split in two—yet his vision and senses remained unified.
"So this is substitution… It seems my current state has been recorded."
He drew out a golden pocket watch and silently watched the ticking seconds.
Tick… tick…
When the hand crossed twelve, a terrifying change erupted.
An extreme chill surged from nowhere—no, from within him.
In an instant, pale frost encased Ren's entire body, turning him into a statue of ice.
"This is—just like Cavendish's injury? Even normal flames can't melt Kuzan's ice?"
Nojiko's eyes narrowed. She flicked open her crimson lighter.
Clink!
Metal struck metal. A searing flame burst forth, engulfing the pot and the frozen figure.
But unlike Cavendish's thaw, this time the melting was agonizingly slow.
The cold emanating from the ice was so overwhelming that even the ship's hull began to frost over.
Moments later, the entire Weather Ship shook violently, its temperature plummeting as if caught in a blizzard.
"What the hell is going on?"
Sas froze mid-treatment, panic flashing across his face. He quickly redirected the ship to land on a deserted island nearby.
In the corridor of the Waver, Monet—still wearing her Seastone shackles—gripped the deck railing, staring uneasily at the frost-filled cabin.
Snow? No… ice. At least minus seventy degrees. What happened in there? Could this be my chance—?
Her eyes flickered, intent forming—but before she could move, sand erupted across the floor. Vivi emerged silently from within it, her gaze cold and wordless.
The two women locked eyes, the air between them freezing harder than the frost itself.
And yet, the cabin's temperature still managed to outmatch even that.
Nojiko, wreathed in blazing flames, said nothing as she tore a chunk of solid wood from the door. Her fingers pressed lightly—and the block shattered into icy dust.
This wasn't an attack. It was the backlash—the overwhelming cold released as her flames struggled to melt the ice sealing Ren.
If memory served, the freezing at Mock Town had been on an even greater scale.
So this is the kind of enemy you face… You're becoming more terrifying by the day, she thought silently, her eyes flickering with a strange mix of awe and worry.
But Ren himself was unaware of any of this.
The suave confidence he'd shown while intimidating Kuzan at Mock Town had come at a heavy price—and now he was paying it.
The extreme cold tore into him endlessly, ravaging every nerve—yet it did not claim his life.
Kuzan had not held back; that attack was meant to kill.
Ren's survival relied solely on Haki and his unique ability—Breathing Regeneration.
Had he not possessed that trait from Skypiea, he could never have stood against Kuzan head-on.
Fortunately, he did.
Breathing Regeneration—an ability that could, quite literally, restore flesh to bone and life to the dead—as long as one could still breathe.
If he timed it right, when the Twelve Hours substitution's deferred damage arrived,he could shield his respiratory system with Haki, endure the impact, and survive.
Of course,that wasn't all of Kuzan's power.
Ren hadn't dared to shift the full brunt of that attack to his future self. The Substitution Trait's description was clear: if his future self died from the transferred injury, the timeline itself would collapse.
Even so—just one strike from Kuzan had shattered his understanding of what "Admiral-level" truly meant.
"I still have a long way to go before I can stand among the strongest."
Ren guarded his lungs with Haki, coldly enduring the destruction of his internal organs. He waited—waited for the transparency of the ice sculpture to increase.
Then, when the time was right, his body burst into countless starlit motes and pierced through the ice—gasping for air as he reformed.
He breathed deeply—and Breathing Regeneration activated.
His wounds began to mend.
(End of Chapter)