As Yasopp and Roux stepped outside, warm sunlight poured down over them. Yasopp felt his spirits lift instantly, as if he had been cut off from the world for ages. A faint memory lingered in his mind, a desperate longing for light and warmth during his unconscious state.
On the deck, a lively feast was already underway. Laughter and noise filled the air.
Yasopp inhaled deeply, then waved his hand and shouted,
"Hey! How could you start a feast without calling me? That's just cruel!"
The moment his voice fell, the entire deck fell silent.
It was as if everything had been frozen.
All eyes turned toward him at once.
Behind the crowd, Shanks stiffened. His expression shifted as he instinctively glanced toward Lloyd, who sat across from him.
Lloyd calmly swirled the red wine in his glass, his expression indifferent. He raised a hand slightly, signaling Shanks not to interfere.
Yasopp felt the strange tension and swallowed.
"What's wrong with all of you? Aren't you happy to see me?"
The chef, Lucky Roux, quickly stuffed a chunk of meat into his mouth, laughed, and said,
"What are you talking about, Yasopp? Of course we're happy! Hey, isn't that right?"
The ship doctor, Benn Beckman paused for a brief moment before reacting, though in truth it was Hongo who stepped forward and spoke,
"Yes, of course! We're glad you're fine. But you just recovered, so it's better to rest instead of joining the feast."
As he spoke, Hongo shot Roux a meaningful glance.
Roux immediately understood and grabbed Yasopp, trying to pull him back inside.
"Hey, wait! I'm fine now! At least let me drink…"
Before he could finish, a calm voice interrupted.
"Let him stay."
It was Benn Beckman.
"There's no need to stop him. Some things have to be faced. From what I can see, Yasopp is completely fine."
His tone carried a deliberate emphasis.
With the vice-captain's decision made, Roux released his grip.
Yasopp laughed.
"See? Beckman understands me. If I can't join the feast, I might as well stay unconscious."
He walked forward without hesitation, snatched a bottle from Hongo, and took a long drink. Satisfaction finally appeared on his face.
"By the way, where's the boss? Why haven't I seen him?"
Hongo's expression stiffened slightly. He stepped aside, revealing Shanks and Lloyd behind him.
Yasopp froze for a moment, then frowned.
"You're still here, Celestial Dragon?"
Lloyd did not respond. He simply continued swirling the wine in his glass, completely ignoring Yasopp.
Shanks sensed something was off and hurriedly spoke.
"Yasopp, you…"
"Don't say anything, Boss!"
Yasopp cut him off immediately.
He stared straight at Lloyd.
"I admit it, your strength is overwhelming. I'm completely convinced."
Then he turned to Shanks, his tone suddenly turning sharp.
"I was wondering why everyone was acting so strange, why you were hiding instead of showing yourself. So it's because he's still here?"
His voice grew louder.
"What do you take me for?"
Shanks and the others lowered their heads, unsure how to respond.
Then Yasopp spoke again, and this time, everyone's heads snapped up in shock.
"Do you think I can't accept defeat?"
His voice was firm.
"Besides, he's your brother. Why would I hold a grudge over something like that?"
Shanks was stunned.
He slowly turned to look at Lloyd.
A faint smile appeared on Lloyd's lips.
"Why are you looking at me? I already told you, once he wakes up, everything will be fine."
Lloyd leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable.
Before evolving into its current form, his Devil Fruit already possessed the ability to induce deep sleep. Now, as a far more advanced power, it could weave nightmares using a person's deepest negative emotions.
Within such a nightmare, the mind became fragile.
With only slight guidance, he could completely dismantle a person's mental defenses.
Memories could be erased. Personalities could be reshaped.
What Lloyd had done to Yasopp was simple.
He erased the existence of Usopp from his mind.
And more importantly, Yasopp believed it was his own choice.
Now, in Yasopp's perception, he had merely acted recklessly, attacked without understanding the relationship between Lloyd and Shanks, and paid the price by being defeated and falling into a coma.
This was Lloyd's first real use of this ability.
Seeing the result match his expectations, he felt satisfied.
He finished the wine in his glass, then stood up.
"Alright. There's no need to worry about internal conflict anymore."
He glanced at Shanks.
"If you need anything, or if you feel like going home, contact me through a Den Den Mushi."
…
Far away, aboard the Moby Dick,
A violent gust of wind swept across the deck.
With a heavy crash, Monkey D. Dragon fell onto the deck, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
Everyone present was shocked.
When Dragon remained motionless, Marco rushed forward to help him.
But as Marco got closer, his pupils shrank in horror.
Dragon's left arm was gone.
The wound was severely charred, as if it had been burned beyond recognition.
Dragon's body trembled as he slowly lifted his head. His face was pale, drained of all color.
His injuries were severe. On top of that, he had forced himself to keep flying for days using his ability. Even with strength at the level of an emperor, he was barely holding on.
Marco didn't waste time asking questions. Blue flames ignited in his hand as he activated his Devil Fruit ability.
He pressed the flames against the wound.
Under the healing fire, new tissue slowly began to form. The wound started to close.
However, regenerating an entire arm was impossible.
Dragon's breathing steadied slightly as his condition improved. He pushed himself up and nodded toward Marco.
Whitebeard's gaze darkened.
Whitebeard spoke in a deep voice,
"What happened? Did Red Hair do this to you?"
Dragon's expression turned grim as he nodded.
"Yes. That red-haired bastard…"
His teeth clenched.
"If it weren't for Issho, I wouldn't have made it back alive."
At the thought of it, Dragon's heart sank.
Not only had he lost an arm, but he had also lost an Admiral-level ally like Issho.
The cost of this encounter was far greater than he had anticipated.
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