The instant Big Mom's voice fell—
"BANG! CRASH! SHATTER—!"
A violent explosion of noise erupted from the lavishly decorated entrance to the tea party hall, as if something unstoppable had just forced its way inside.
In the next breath, the elite guards stationed at the entrance—and those lining the corridor beyond—collapsed in waves, dropping like wheat before a scythe. No warning. No visible strike.
Even some of the weaker Charlotte children managed to endure only a second or two longer before their vision went black and they crumpled unconscious to the floor.
The joyful, harmonious tea party shattered instantly—replaced by panic and chaos.
"Damn it! Th-that Haki… it's overwhelming!" someone shouted, fury and shock tangled in his voice. "Don't tell me… is it 'Red-Haired' Shanks attacking us?!"
Before the words had even finished echoing, a towering figure strode forward and planted himself at the very front of the disturbance.
A warrior forged entirely from hardened biscuit armor.
He held a massive blade in one hand, a distinctive long beard framing his stern expression. Unlike the blank-faced, mass-produced biscuit soldiers surrounding him, this one radiated personality—his features sharp with tension and vigilance.
The true body of Charlotte Cracker was concealed within the biscuit armor.
Even he could feel it—the tidal wave of Conqueror's Haki crashing toward them. His first instinct was obvious:
Another Emperor.
A man famed across the seas for his supreme will—perhaps even Shanks himself had come knocking.
"Red-Haired?"
From the main seat, Big Mom let out a cold, dismissive snort.
There wasn't a trace of fear in her expression at the mention of Shanks' name—only irritation, as though she'd been insulted.
"Mamamamama… That brat Shanks doesn't have the nerve to rampage through my tea party like this!"
The moment her voice fell, the air beside her warped violently.
"Mother!"
"Mother!"
To her left, lightning crackled as a plump white cloud materialized—Homie Zeus, his voice tinged with unease.
To her right, flames roared to life in the shape of a miniature sun—Prometheus, blazing with searing heat.
Her two highest-ranking Homies instantly took their positions at her flanks like loyal sentinels guarding their sovereign.
The temperature in the grand hall seemed to plummet despite Prometheus' heat. The last scraps of festivity were torn apart, replaced by suffocating silence and tension.
If it wasn't Shanks…
Then who?
"If it's not Red-Haired, then who the hell is it?!" Cracker muttered from within his armor, brow furrowed.
He clicked his tongue sharply.
"Forget it. Doesn't matter who it is—subdue them first!" he barked. "Clear the way! Send in the biscuit soldiers!"
Clap!
With a sharp strike of his palms, the six reinforced biscuit soldiers stationed around him—and the one guarding at his side—flared to life. Red light gleamed in their eyes as they began moving in perfect unison.
Seven towering constructs advanced in heavy, synchronized steps, forming a wall of steel-hard biscuit. Their swords and shields raised, they charged toward the source of the chaos like an advancing fortress.
They had not even covered ten meters—
"Biscuit soldiers?"
A calm voice drifted forward. There was a faint, almost imperceptible trace of mockery in its tone.
In that same instant—
"SHIING—!!"
A beam of condensed, pale-white particles fired forth at a speed the naked eye could scarcely follow.
The air along its path vibrated at terrifying frequency, twisting into a visible spiral shockwave—like a drill tearing through space itself. A low, lethal hum filled the corridor.
"Thup! Thup! Thup! Thup! Thup! Thup! Thup!"
Seven soft, sickening penetrations sounded almost simultaneously.
The seven reinforced biscuit soldiers—constructs durable enough to withstand cannon fire—were skewered in a straight line, pierced clean through from head to toe like candied fruit on a skewer.
The vibrational energy contained within the beam detonated the moment it passed through them.
Crack—CRASH!
They shattered instantly, exploding into showers of broken biscuit fragments before a single counterattack could be made.
And it wasn't over.
The beam did not slow.
It tore through the remains and surged straight toward Cracker himself.
His pupils contracted violently. There was no time to dodge—no time even to raise his blade.
"BOOM!"
The massive biscuit armor was pierced dead center and detonated in a burst of debris.
Smoke and crumbs filled the air.
A figure staggered backward several steps, emerging from the wreckage in visible disarray.
Roughly three meters tall, with striking purple hair cascading down his back. A long loaf-shaped tuft rose from his crown, while two sparks-tipped strands flared behind his head. His face was fierce, a deep scar cutting across his right eye.
He wore brown gloves, a vivid pink armored pauldron over his right shoulder, and a pink polka-dotted cape draped behind him. Loose riding pants and long boots completed the ensemble, a longsword hanging at his waist.
Charlotte Cracker—his true body revealed.
He stared toward the corridor, cold sweat sliding down his temple.
If he hadn't been hiding within the armor out of habit…
That beam would have pierced him.
And the strength behind it—
It was monstrous.
One strike. One effortless attack had annihilated all of his biscuit soldiers and nearly crippled him outright.
His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, ready to move again—
"Cracker! Move aside!"
A low roar thundered from behind him.
A massive shadow fell across his body as the heavy tremor of approaching footsteps made the entire hall shudder.
Big Mom's colossal frame stepped forward, planting herself in front of her son. Her broad back blocked out the corridor entirely, cutting off the oppressive force radiating from within. To the children behind her, it felt as though the sky itself had been raised in their defense.
"Mother…" Cracker breathed.
"This is not an opponent you can handle," Big Mom growled without looking back, her gaze locked on the end of the corridor.
Then she raised her voice, thunderous and commanding.
"I'm right, aren't I?"
"Admiral 'White Qilin'! Supreme Commander of the Marines' New World Strategy! Grand Governor of the Marines' New World…"
With each title she spoke, her aura surged higher. Zeus crackled with explosive lightning. Prometheus flared brighter and hotter.
"Or perhaps," she continued, her voice turning darker still, "for those of us from the old era… we should call you—"
"'Heavenquake' Gern Reginald Sigmar!!!"
"—!!!"
The name alone sucked the air from the hall.
Every conscious Charlotte family member—and even the invited guests—felt their scalps prickle in disbelief.
Heavenquake.
The man who had brought the eras of Whitebeard and Shiki to an end.
He had truly come alone into Totto Land.
Almost at the exact moment Big Mom finished speaking—
"Tap."
A soft, unhurried footstep echoed from the corridor's shadow.
Gern Reginald Sigmar emerged fully into the light of the grand hall.
The same black shirt. The same straight posture.
Standing before Big Mom's mountainous form, he looked almost slender by comparison—yet the contrast only made the tension sharper.
In his hand, he still dragged the unconscious, battered body of Charlotte Perospero.
He lifted his head slowly, meeting Big Mom's oppressive stare with calm eyes.
There was no tension on his face.
Instead, a faint, perfectly measured smile curved his lips.
"This is… our first proper meeting, isn't it?"
"Big Mom. Charlotte Linlin."
Big Mom did not respond.
Her bell-sized eyes remained fixed on him without blinking.
"No reply?" Gern tilted his head slightly, as if puzzled—then let out a small sound of realization. "Ahh… I see."
With a casual flick of his wrist—
"Whoosh—thud!"
Perospero's limp body flew from Gern's grasp and slid across the luxurious carpet, stopping neatly at Big Mom's feet.
Gern dusted off his hands lightly and looked up again, smiling faintly under her increasingly frigid gaze.
"My mistake."
"It wouldn't do to visit for the first time empty-handed."
"I heard you have a particular fondness for 'sweet' things, so…"
His eyes drifted meaningfully to the unconscious Perospero at her feet.
"This one here is a genuine 'Candy Man.'"
He paused deliberately, voice calm and unhurried.
"And don't say I lack manners."
"He's worth a full…"
"Seven hundred million Berries."
...
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