On the silent arena, where one could almost hear their own heartbeat, the sun shone directly down, baking the ground hot, and the air was filled with a somewhat oppressive dryness.
Cavendish rode on a tall, pure white horse, his posture straight and tall, his face flushed, his emotions agitated, one hand raised high, shouting loudly to the arena surroundings through a megaphone. His voice echoed loudly in the empty arena.
"Hmph, look at those cowardly commoners! The shouts they make are no different from annoying noise, completely unworthy of being taken to heart!
Although I am participating in this competition for some reasons that must be mentioned, I detest from the bottom of my heart this kind of event that uses the lives of warriors as a gimmick, for you to watch like a monkey show!
The hot blood and lives of warriors are incredibly precious; how can they be defiled by you as mere toys!"
Cavendish tried his best to maintain an elegant posture, his eyes filled with indignation.
After saying this, Cavendish let out a cold snort, slowly bent down, and carefully placed the megaphone he was holding into the saddlebag on one side of Farul, then gently patted Farul's neck.
Farul seemed to understand his master's meaning, snorted, turned his head, and with elegant and steady steps, slowly walked towards the cool waiting room at the edge of the arena.
The horse's hooves struck the ground, making a "clop-clop" sound, which was exceptionally clear in the silence.
At the edge of the arena, those young girls who had originally shown hearts in their eyes and infatuated expressions upon seeing Cavendish,
now, one by one, their eyebrows were furrowed, their faces showed displeasure, and with arms crossed, they began to shout in Cavendish's direction, one after another.
"Oh, what kind of big shot are you pretending to be there! What you say sounds nice, but with this free time, why don't you compete properly!" A girl with pigtails pouted and shouted with a look of disdain.
"Exactly, exactly! Do you really think you're a big star, and everyone has to fawn over you, hmph!" The girl next to her, wearing a pink dress, also chimed in, rolling her Byakugan as she spoke.
"If you're so capable, withdraw from the competition now! Just running your mouth here, what kind of hero is that!"
A short-haired girl with her hands on her hips shouted mockingly, her voice exceptionally harsh in the silence.
In the rows of spectator stands at the edge of the arena, it was now like a pot had exploded. People whispered to each other, their eyes full of disdain and mockery, all pointing their fingers at Cavendish.
"Hmph, truly an ugly person causing trouble! Look at his self-important demeanor, he's just got the title of 'Handsome Pirate,' and he really thinks he's the spokesperson for handsomeness! Why doesn't he go pee and look at himself!"
A slightly plump man shouted, his face filled with contempt and jealousy, his voice full of strong disgust, spreading freely in the air.
"Exactly, exactly! He's no different from that Bartolomeo, they both love to put on these pretentious acts, thinking they're so great, but in reality, they're just clowns!"
A flamboyantly dressed toy also chimed in, covering her nose with a handkerchief in her hand as she spoke, as if just mentioning Cavendish's name made her feel a bit unpleasant.
The people around also started discussing animatedly, various sarcastic and mocking words rising and falling, intertwining like sharp blades fiercely stabbing towards Cavendish's direction, filling the already no longer silent arena with malice and clamor.
The chief referee's forehead was covered in sweat, his expression anxious, waving his hands while holding a megaphone and shouting loudly: "Quiet! Everyone quiet down! This is an arena, not a place for you to run wild!"
And Cavendish at this moment was as if struck by lightning, staring blankly at the crowd of spectators, his face filled with an expression of disbelief.
He widened his beautiful eyes, thinking to himself: "What exactly is going on? In the past, as soon as I appeared, weren't those people supposed to be awestruck by my beauty, moved to tears, and filled with admiration for me?
This Dressrosa must be crazy, actually comparing me to that ugly Bartolomeo! This is simply too absurd. Are they all blind, unable to see my world-shattering beauty?"
The more he thought about it, the more he felt something was wrong. His brows furrowed tightly together, his face full of confusion. As for sadness, it didn't exist. Oh well, even if it's an insult, it still counts as applause.
Cavendish quickly gave himself a mental pep talk, as if a switch had been flipped, and his originally confused face instantly reverted to his usual flamboyant and narcissistic expression.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, his eyes revealing a self-confident belief that he was unparalleled in the world, as if those harsh sarcastic remarks had never appeared. He was once again immersed in his "world of beauty."
Orochimaru leaned back, exuding a lazy air. Orochimaru's slender fingers casually stroked Sabo's body, again and again, as if immersed in the soft and smooth touch, unconsciously muttering: "Hmm... this feels quite nice."
After a while, he slightly raised his eyes, his gaze lightly drifting towards the residents in the spectator stands who were full of malice and clamoring. His brows furrowed slightly, and a complex, almost annoyed, expression flickered in his eyes.
He tilted his head, looked at Sabo, and asked in a somewhat nonchalant voice, yet as if earnestly seeking an answer:
"Sabo, look at these people, full of malice, so despicable. Do you think people like them are worth saving?"
His words slowly drifted in the somewhat noisy and peculiar atmosphere.
Sabo frowned slightly, withdrew his gaze from the clamoring residents, turned to look at Orochimaru, his expression becoming serious and stern, and slowly said:
"Orochimaru, from the Revolutionary Army's standpoint, our strength must be used where it matters most. When facing people so full of malice and unrepentant, we must weigh the effort against the reward. Sometimes, we can only choose to cut our losses and focus our energy on those who are more likely to be changed and can contribute to justice."
Sabo paused, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes, then continued:
"But if I cast aside my identity as a Revolutionary Army member, and simply as your brother, I cannot bear for anyone to harm you like this, or to spread such malice. In that case, I will not be soft-hearted.
Regardless of whether they can be saved, as long as they dare to harm you, I will mercilessly eliminate them, never allowing them another chance to harm those around us.
Old Man Garp was very right.
Bad guys are not worth pitying, but family is different."
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