Inside the tavern, the dim lighting reflected off Lorne's calm, expressionless face, but his fingers gripping the wine glass were unconsciously tightening.
The clamor outside, mixed with fear, grew increasingly clear in Lorne's ears.
The other patrons in the tavern had long since been scared into silence, each huddling in corners, wishing they could bury their heads in the ground.
Lorne drained the last sip of ale from his glass. The cold liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't suppress the growing fire of irritation in his heart.
He really had just wanted to be a tourist.
To see the place where the pirate king was executed, lament the torrent of the era, and then enter the Grand Line to continue his leisurely yet exciting adventure.
But this damn world never let him have his way.
First, there was that unreasonable old man Garp, and now he had run into world-class trash like the Celestial Dragons staging a human tragedy.
"An execution? What a grand display of power."
Lorne whispered self-deprecatingly, tossing a few Berries onto the bar counter.
The tavern owner looked at him with trepidation, his lips trembling as if he wanted to advise him not to go out now, but he couldn't say a single word.
Lorne ignored him. He adjusted his hood, pushed open the creaking wooden door, and just as he stepped out of the alleyway, an oppressive, extreme silence rushed toward him.
The wide street was densely packed with kneeling people, everyone lowering their heads, their bodies shaking uncontrollably from fear.
The wall of Navy soldiers remained straight, though the faces of many young soldiers were filled with struggle and pain.
In the center of the road, an impossibly obese man rode on the back of a slave. He wore a ridiculous bubble helmet on his head and was currently flushed with excitement, enjoying the sight of the masses kneeling before him.
A Celestial Dragon.
The corner of Lorne's eye twitched.
He naturally recognized this species; rather, in his original world, he had seen plenty regarding their 'great achievements.'
Within the Celestial Dragon's procession, a cold-faced Navy general wearing a twin-headed dragon helmet was particularly conspicuous, carrying an unconscious man on his shoulder.
Two Guards at the front of the procession were dragging two civilians, one old and one young. The old man seemed to be on his last breath, while the little boy was crying out in despair, a wound visible on his shoulder.
Lorne's footsteps stopped.
He wasn't from this world and felt no sense of belonging to the Navy's justice or the pirates' freedom.
He had originally only wanted to travel around, learn to improve his strength, and then quietly wait out his time to go home.
But the scene before him made his stomach churn.
It was a pure, unadulterated evil that treated human life as if it were grass.
The morbid smile on that fat pig's face, the matter-of-fact indifference of the Navy general, and the silent despair of the kneeling crowd together formed a portrait of hell that he couldn't look away from.
"Wahahaha! Hurry up! This Saint can't wait to see a splendid execution!"
Saint Charlimako's shrill laughter pierced the silence.
The procession's destination was the high platform in the center of the square.
That was the place where the pirate king, Gol D. Roger, was executed and where he started the Great Pirate Era with a single sentence.
Now, this symbolic place was to be used to satisfy a fat pig's low tastes with the blood of innocent civilians.
Lorne silently followed along the edge of the crowd, watching as Onigumo roughly threw the grandfather and grandson, along with the civilian being used as a 'pirate,' onto the execution platform.
He watched as Saint Charlimako excitedly clapped his hands, urging the Guards,
"Execute them! Execute them for this Saint at once!"
Several Guards acting as executioners raised their long sabers. The blades reflected a grim, cold light under the sun as they aimed at the three innocent people on the ground.
The little boy could no longer make a sound; he just held his grandfather tightly, using his small, thin body in a futile attempt to shield him.
That's enough!
A voice roared from the depths of Lorne's heart.
He was not some champion of justice, nor could he change the twisted order of this world.
But some things, once seen, cannot be ignored.
He thought of his comrades in the Fairy Tail Guild who would risk everything for their friends, and he remembered Makarov's words: 'Family is not something you choose.'
Yet here, life was cheaper than an ant on the roadside.
"Stop."
A clear voice, not loud, rang out exceptionally abruptly in the deathly silent square.
Everyone's movements froze.
Saint Charlimako's laughter came to an abrupt halt as he twisted his fat neck to find the source of the voice.
Onigumo's gaze locked onto the hooded figure with precision.
Under countless gazes—some terrified, some numb, some bewildered—Lorne stepped out from the edge of the crowd, walking step by step toward the execution platform.
"Hey, you pariah over there!"
Saint Charlimako looked at the man who was standing. Feeling his authority was being challenged, he was instantly displeased.
He pointed his fat finger at Lorne and shrieked,
"Don't you see this Saint here? Kneel before this Saint at once! Then crawl over here obediently! This Saint might consider taking you as my slave."
Seeing Lorne remain unmoved, Saint Charlimako was instantly infuriated.
"Are you deaf? Capture him for this Saint! Nail him together with those insects!"
Onigumo didn't move, instead sizing Lorne up with a scrutinizing gaze.
This man didn't have a shred of a powerful person's aura, looking like an ordinary passerby, but that composure was extremely unusual.
"Who are you?" Onigumo barked. "This is an area directly under the World Government's jurisdiction. Kneel immediately!"
Lorne ignored him and simply continued walking forward, his gaze passing over Onigumo to land on the shivering little boy on the execution platform.
Lorne slowly raised his hand and took off his hood, revealing a face that appeared excessively calm against the backdrop of the surrounding fear.
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