Sengoku snatched up the receiver.
This is Sengoku.
A howling wind burst from the speaker, mixed with ragged, stifled breathing.
Fleet Admiral, it's Smoker.
His voice sounded as if he'd just swallowed a fistful of glowing coals hoarse and raw.
Smoker? Weren't you en route to Loguetown?" Sengoku asked, voice low. "What happened?
I'm in the North Blue, waters off Iron Fang Island.
Sengoku's head throbbed; Iron Fang was Donquixote territory, and as Shichibukai land the Marines had no authority to enforce justice there.
One headache after another.
Certain the stubborn captain meant to pick a fight with the Donquixote Family, Sengoku began to rein him in.
Calm yourself, Smoker.
The order crackled through the den den mushi, brooking no argument.
I know you loathe those pirates, but understand: the World Government created the Shichibukai to balance the Four Emperors of the New World. It's a necessary evil. Even if they overstep on their own turf, as long as the World's foundations aren't shaken, the Marines must show restraint.
But sir, it's the iro
He was cut off mid-sentence.
No buts.
Zephyr bent over backwards to assign you to that vital post in Loguetown the throat of the Grand Line. We placed you there to steady your temper and guard the East Blue's gateway, not to make enemies everywhere and trouble for headquarters.
Sengoku sighed, tone softening like an elder scolding a wayward child.
Don't waste Zephyr's efforts, Smoker. At present you're not qualified to challenge the rules of this World.
Behind his broad desk Sengoku lifted a senbei to his mouth.
Smoker? Answer me!
Sir…
The reply was a gravelly rasp, as though sand clogged his throat.
Iron Fang Island has fallen!
Fallen?
The admiral's hand froze, cracker halfway to his lips.
For a heartbeat the office air seemed to solidify.
What was Iron Fang?
A notorious den of vice in the North Blue, home to over fifty thousand residents and elite Donquixote guards.
How could it simply cease to exist?
Smoker, jokes in poor taste aren't your style.
Two seconds of silence.
Then a roar, suppressed to the breaking point.
Old man! You think I've got time for jokes?
The shout tore Smoker's voice, the ocean wind turning it into a shrill wail.
There's no one left alive on the island!
Everyone's eating people! The living are devoured, the dead rise again! It's hell genuine hell!
Sengoku shot to his feet, chair screeching across the floor.
Vice Admiral Tsuru set down her teacup, dull eyes flashing.
She strode to the desk and motioned for the speaker to be opened.
Smoker, this is Tsuru.
The old woman's steady, calm voice travelled the line like a sedative.
Breathe. Tell me exactly what you saw no emotion, just facts.
A lighter clicked as Smoker forced his trembling hand to light a cigarette.
Seconds later his hoarse voice returned, now cold and lifeless.
Ten minutes ago we approached for resupply.
The pier was a lake of blood, limbs everywhere. We were attacked by corpses.
Corpses? Tsuru's brows knitted.
Civilians and pirates, all bitten to death.
He dragged hard on the smoke, lungs burning.
They feel no pain, they're inhumanly strong; shoot their hearts out and they keep coming only a shattered head stops them.
Worst of all is the contagion.
His voice quavered.
Three of my men were bitten aboard ship. Within five minutes just five!
They spiked fevers, skin sloughed off, then… turned into those things and leapt on their comrades.
Sengoku's pupils shrank.
Such transmission speed was unheard-of!
You're saying a bite converts the victim? Tsuru pinned the crux.
Exactly. No matter how strong, once blood's drawn it's over.
Smoker glanced at the half-dried blood on his deck, jaw clenched.
I executed the three rookies myself minutes ago.
The office fell deathly still.
Sengoku and Tsuru exchanged a look of horror.
If this were a Devil Fruit power, defeating the user would end it.
But if it were a virus something spread by fluid, even by air… "What of the island?" Sengoku asked grimly.
Full infection by visual estimate. When I withdrew, tens of thousands of those things crowded the docks.
Smoker glanced back at the black-smoking island in the distance.
And… I saw officers of the Donquixote Family.
Doflamingo's men? Sengoku's gaze hardened.
Smoker gave a cold laugh, thick with scorn.
Those swaggering pirates ran like whipped dogs wouldn't even fight back, just fled.
Even a Shichibukai squad couldn't handle it…
Tsuru tapped the desk, mind racing.
Smoker, listen.
Sengoku's tone turned graver than ever.
You have one task.
Quarantine seal that sea area tight.
Not a ship, not a man, not even a bird leaves Iron Fang!
If this spreads to the Four Blues, the World is finished.
I'll dispatch the nearest base to support you at once!
"Fifteen thousand… twenty… twenty-eight…"
Mordred watched the skyrocketing numbers, grinning ear to ear.
This haul was massive!
Fear truly the best harvester.
And unknown fear doubled the yield.
He devoured the last bites of apple and flicked the core into the shambling horde below.
System, show current astonishment value balance.
[Host astonishment value: 42,500 points.]
Over forty thousand…
Mordred rubbed his chin, eyes gleaming behind the mask.
Enough for several top-tier draws.