It was the same person.
Columbus understood—too late.
Dimon withdrew his right hand, a still-beating heart in his grip. With a thought, he Devoured it.
"An undying body doesn't die just because you lose a heart," he said lightly.
Columbus staggered a step.
"But lose your heart, and your combat power drops off a cliff."
He crashed to one knee. Blood gushed from the fist-sized hole in his chest, soaking his uniform scarlet. A moment later the blood began to flow back, trying to knit the wound shut.
But the missing heart never returned. Flesh sealed over the surface; inside, vessels hung torn and empty.
His vision smeared. In this pitch-black world, what little he saw went dimmer still.
Observation Haki failed him.
Observation is "listening"; you need a quiet mind to hear. With his spirit in chaos, he caught only static. Armament Haki faltered too—life force drained by the absent heart.
I'm going to lose… no—die?
The undying have a weakness! I have to get this back to—!
He chose his final card.
Awakening — Blood Burial River!
Dimon clicked his tongue. Undying bodies moved to screen him on instinct.
A heartbeat later—BOOM.
Columbus exploded.
He burst into a roaring deluge of blood, a river that filled the entire domain. Hairline cracks spidered across the sphere's shell; a blade of daylight stabbed through.
And then the black moon shattered. The blood-river geysered out of the ruptures.
Heaven opened and rained red.
A silhouette fell from the storm.
Dimon snagged it by the collar—Columbus, limp and unconscious—and sighed.
Trying to break a devil's domain with the Blood-Blood Fruit's awakening? Cute. Give him ten more minutes and he still wouldn't have cracked it—Dimon had only let it go so he wouldn't be swimming in the mess.
He pressed his palm to the man's forehead and unleashed the devouring power.
It took more than ten seconds to finish.
Sated warmth rolled through Dimon's core—full to the brim.
His first Admiral-class meal. Before this, the strongest he'd eaten was Kozuki Oden. Oden's potential was indisputable, but at twenty he wasn't on this level.
"Ahh. That hit the spot."
Dimon patted his belly and glanced toward Enies Lobby.
He'd planned to eat a few more. Turns out one Admiral was a full-course meal.
His two Haki surged higher; his physique hardened again.
Shame Columbus didn't have Conqueror's Haki.
Even so, right now he absolutely sat at king-tier power. Maybe he wouldn't outdo Rocks or Harald outright—but he stood on their step.
"Can't cram another bite. But I should go check on my beloved apples…"
He grinned, manifested a perfect Columbus, and slid his consciousness into the body.
The "Chief Warden" tilted his wings and flew back toward the island.
Behind him the sea had turned to blood. The Blood-Blood awakening had birthed a permanent red sea; once poured into the ocean, it wouldn't fade for a while.
—
Judicial Tower, roofless command room.
Vice Admiral Tsuru saw Columbus return and exhaled.
"So you won."
"Surprisingly pesky. That bowl-cut brat got away," Dimon rasped in Columbus's voice.
"Bowl-cut…?" Tsuru blinked. Columbus did toss out odd nicknames now and then. He called Sengoku an "afro bomb" in Buddha form—which, to be fair, was… not inaccurate.
"How's the field?"
"The main island is contained. The pirates can't break through. As for the bridge…"
Tsuru shook her head. Roger's crew was a nightmare to pin down; taking them quickly was a fantasy.
Dimon stepped out into the open corridor and looked down at the war below.
Roger vs. Garp.
Rayleigh vs. Sengoku.
Jabba vs. Zephyr.
Three giants, three giants—no clean edge either way.
The rest of the Roger Pirates had already punched into the underground tunnels, clashing with a phalanx of Vice Admirals.
No sign of the two brats, Shanks and Buggy. Only the fish-man Sunbell stood guard on the ship.
"Good. Keep brawling. Ten days and ten nights would be perfect—by the time I finish digesting, I'll come back for a little… justice from the shadows."
He smirked, gaze sliding to Sengoku and Zephyr.
Both undying. Two thick, juicy leeks to harvest again and again.
Shame about Garp.
Four cups of Immortality Wine, and they didn't give Garp one?
No way. With Sengoku and Garp that close, of course they offered him a cup.
If he wasn't immortal now, only one explanation remained—
Garp refused.
"To shrug off the bait of eternal life?"
Dimon felt a stab of respect. Was the man a simpleton sage—or just cleverer than most?
Even leaving aside the part where undyings became his snacks, the Wine's immortality was far freer than Imu's version.
Were the Five Elders truly that loyal to Imu?
What man with a spine wants to kneel forever? Haven't they ever dreamed of toppling the figure above?
Then again… hard to rebel when your life and death sit in someone else's hand.
"Drink it or not, a single shot works the same."
Dimon leaned on the rail and enjoyed the show.
Unfortunately, some people had no patience for spectators.
Sengoku felt the stare, snapped his head up, and roared:
"Columbus! How long do you plan to watch?!"
He'd hauled the Chief Warden here for this moment. Roger's top three versus the Navy's top three meant stalemate. One more Admiral-class tip on the scale—and the victory would tilt.
As for summoning the Fleet Admiral… fleet admirals don't budge on a whim—unless the battlefield is Marineford.
"Understood."
Dimon's tone chilled. He hopped off the Tower's lip and soared down.
Three radar pings flared at once—Observation Haki locked on.
Roger. Rayleigh. Jabba. All wary.
"That man's the Chief Warden of Impel Down. Heard the stories—first time I've seen him," Rayleigh murmured.
Jabba's jaw went hard. The grin was gone. "Trouble, Roger."
Roger tightened his grip on Ace, drawing a long breath. "I'll handle him."
"And Garp?"
"I'll take two."
He moved as the words left his mouth—skimming the ground like a thrown blade, streaking straight for "Columbus."
Compared to Garp, the Chief Warden looked easier to remove. Best to end him in a single stroke.
No one expected Roger to charge first—not even Garp, who blinked in surprise.
Dimon groused internally. He'd come to put on a show, not a suicide duel. Did Roger have to be so serious?
Divine Departure? I won't depart.
The instant Roger's slash arrived, Dimon's right hand curled into a claw and shot out.
Steel-keen haki met bare flesh.
The impact boomed—black-red lightning webbed out in every direction, crawling over shattered stone.
From the look on Roger's face, it was the first time he'd seen anyone catch that strike with a palm.
When did this guy get this strong?
—To be continued…
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