The pirates landed like falling stars, banners from half the New World spilling across the plaza. No captain took orders from another; they simply howled and charged.
"Whoever saves Shakky wins her favor—move!"
"Out of my way! She'll only remember me!"
"I'm her truest fan, you scrubs!"
Dimon knew half these faces from Hachinosu days and, for a beat, admired their gall. Pity for them… Shakky wasn't even here.
A glassy crack raced over stone as the seawater that had flooded the square froze mid-flow. In a breath the plaza became a rink; even the ships that had sailed in on the artificial breaker glazed into ice sculptures.
Through the hissing steam, Kuzan wiped the blood at his lip and stepped out, shoulders squared.
"Naval Headquarters, Ensign Kuzan. If you want through… step over my corpse."
"A Logia—Ice!" a pirate gasped. "That kid's the genius rookie!"
"Rookie or not, he's just a Logia!" their captain snorted—and rushed.
Dimon drifted to a rooftop above the street. A few Marine snipers lay there, still snoring from the triple Conqueror's blast. He sat, one knee up, watching Kuzan plant his feet. "Hot-blooded, eh? Didn't expect that from the cool one."
But Kuzan wasn't the day's entrée. Dimon had come to harvest—and green fruit (the three future Admirals) weren't ripe enough. For a proper meal, he needed today's top cuts.
Bridge of Hesitation? Sengoku, Zephyr, and Garp had that front locked in thunder. Which left—
"—the Tower," he murmured.
Inside the improvised command post, Vice Admiral Tsuru rubbed her temple. "Front and rear simultaneously—formation's in tatters." Orders crackled out via trans-den den: "Gate garrison, reinforce the main island—we've had an anomalous tsunami and hostile landing! Gion, gather anyone conscious. Garp, status?!"
A hoarse voice cut in beside her. "That wave," the Deep-Sea Prison Warden rasped, "shouldn't exist here."
Tsuru's eyes sharpened. "…Very much like the Quake Fruit."
"—I'll check it," said Columbus.
Before she could answer, blood welled from his pores, swaddling him in viscous red until he became a javelin of gore that screamed out the Tower and lanced toward the square.
On the roof, Dimon's brow twitched. Seen.
The blood-javelin speared into the plaza and melted, pooling into a thick scarlet lake that heaved itself upright into a man.
"Blood Puppet: Beast Cage."
Columbus opened his hands. Ropy strands rained from his palms; where each drop hit ice, a creature budded—wolf, lion, tiger, leopard—scores of them, tails umbilical-corded by living blood back to his wrists.
"What the hell!?"
A pirate cleaved a wolf in two—only to earn two wolves for his trouble. One latched onto his weapon arm; the other sank fangs into his throat. Elsewhere, every blood-beast pounced its nearest prey. Armament cut them—divided them. Blows burst them—reknit them.
"It's that guy! Cut the strings!"
Several hardened captains drove straight for the Warden. Columbus did not blink. A tide of blood bloomed at his boots, fanning wide. Those who stepped were instantly glued; the liquid crept, questing, seeking openings—nostrils, ears, mouths.
"Don't touch it! It gets inside!"
A man stiffened, irises flooding red. In the next heartbeat he raised his blade and butchered his comrade.
Dimon watched, chin in hand, eyes bright. "Special Paramecia… Logia-like behavior. Nasty control suite, too." One man, and half a dozen New World crews were already pinned like insects.
His smile cut sideways. "Let's see if you're worth eating."
Domain Expansion.
His shadow unfurled like a theater curtain. From the night behind it, a swordsman stepped—blank-faced, red-glint eyes.
"Go," Dimon said.
Kozuki Oden moved. Two phantom blades sang.
Columbus scanned, hunting whoever had raised the breaker. A power like that would shine in Observation—
Pain lanced his sternum. He looked down at twin edges punching through his chest from behind.
"Didn't see you," he grated. "Who…?"
The revenant answered with steel.
Oden Two-Sword Style — Peach Garden Flash.
A single stroke sheared Columbus in half.
The halves hit ice—and collapsed into tidal red, surging back together. A man of meat re-knit from threadlike capillaries, pale eyes reigniting.
"Bad manners," Columbus said tonelessly. "Blood Marionette: Lattice."
Grids of razor filaments whipped outward, a scarlet spiderweb that fenced an entire block. Any pirate it kissed became a jerking puppet; any beast Oden split doubled and leapt again.
On the roof, Dimon's grin widened. "Good regeneration. Wide-area parasitism. Multiplying constructs. Yes… you'll do."
He snapped his fingers. The shadow-curtain rippled—and dozens more silhouettes stepped out: headhunters from Hachinosu, six-floor demons from Impel Down, and at their center a long-limbed swordsman with a lazy smile and rings on his fingers.
"Warm up's over," Dimon said softly. "All in."
Columbus finally looked up—and saw the army climbing from one man's shadow.
"Impossible," he breathed—and thrust both arms down.
"Blood Typhoon!"
The plaza exploded into a red hurricane as Oden vaulted straight through it, blades crossing for the neck—
—and the storm answered.
To be continued…
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