Capone Bege stood at the front of the formation, cigar smoldering between his teeth.
At this time, he was already one of the principal decision-makers of the Capone Family in the West Blue. If nothing unexpected occurred, it would not be long before he fully assumed control of the organization.
Robin stood slightly behind Rowan and spoke in a low voice.
"Capone Bege. One of the core leaders of the Capone Family. Ruthless, calculating. He rarely acts without preparation."
Ghost Hand Rowan did not display any surprise.
Unlike Robin, he possessed knowledge of the wider seas. He understood very well what kind of figure Capone Bege would eventually become a pirate who would one day stand among the Worst Generation.
Below, the old man in the black top hat stared out the window at the army-like formation surrounding the building.
"Damn it… it's Capone Bege. How could the Capone Family mobilize on this scale without any warning?"
His face turned ashen.
The surrounding streets had been completely sealed off. Armed men occupied rooftops and alleyways. Rifles were leveled. Portable cannons were positioned with disciplined precision.
This was not a chaotic mob.
This was a military-style encirclement.
Bege tilted his head slightly upward, exhaling smoke.
"Your movements were too slow," he called calmly. "In this world, hesitation leads to extinction."
His lips curled into a thin, cold smile.
"Regrettably, your story ends here."
The old man shoved the window open halfway and shouted down, forcing bravado into his voice.
"What do you want, Capone Bege?!"
Bege's gaze remained steady.
"To eliminate all of you before any alliance with the Hundred Blades Pirate Crew could be completed."
He paused slightly.
"And to dispose of another problem."
His eyes sharpened.
"Ghost Hand Rowan."
For a brief moment, even Robin stiffened.
So this had not been coincidence.
It was premeditated.
"You're inside, aren't you, Ghost Hand Rowan?" Bege continued evenly. "If you are, then I assume White Blade has already fallen."
Rowan stepped forward and pushed the curtain aside.
Through the fractured window frame, he looked down at the countless gun barrels and cannon muzzles trained on the structure.
Then his eyes met Bege's.
"How did you know I was here?"
Bege tapped ash from his cigar.
"Information. The most valuable commodity in the West Blue. The Capone Family controls a significant portion of the underworld intelligence network."
He smiled faintly.
"We were monitoring White Blade's communications. During that process, we discovered that you were tracking him as well."
Rowan did not look at Robin accusingly.
Instead, he shook his head.
"This isn't your fault," he said calmly. "I've been too active. Without deliberate concealment, it's only natural that someone controlling intelligence channels would trace our movements."
He returned his gaze to Bege.
"You've explained quite a bit. Do you believe the situation is already under your control?"
Bege spread his hands slightly.
Behind him, hundreds of armed men grinned with cruel anticipation.
"Yes," he answered simply. "Because of overwhelming force."
"Even if you cooperate with each other now, the result will not change."
Unlike ordinary gang leaders who pursued territory or wealth for ambition's sake, Capone Bege found enjoyment in orchestrating destruction watching carefully laid plans collapse in despair.
The old man in the black top hat trembled.
"Capone Bege! Do you realize where you're standing? If you dare act here, our organization"
Bang!
The gunshot cracked through the air.
Bege lowered an ornate flintlock pistol, smoke curling from the barrel.
A bullet hole appeared cleanly in the old man's forehead.
His body swayed once before tumbling backward from the window.
"So noisy," Bege muttered.
He raised his hand slightly.
"Enough theatrics."
Then, calmly:
"Level the building."
The response was instantaneous.
Bang! Bang! Boom! Boom!!
Gunfire erupted from every direction. Cannons roared. The assault was not limited to the top floor it was a systematic bombardment meant to erase the entire structure.
Windows shattered inward. Walls splintered. Explosions thundered through the building's frame.
Inside
Rowan had already let the curtain fall before the first cannon discharged.
"Downstairs," he said to Robin.
She nodded.
Though tension flickered in her eyes, she did not panic.
Over the past months, she had come to understand Ghost Hand Rowan's temperament. In crises, he did not hesitate or fluster.
If he remained composed, then there was still a path forward.
The old man's body fell moments later.
And then
The bombardment began in earnest.
Boom! Boom! Boom!!
Glass exploded inward. Bullets tore through furniture and walls. Artillery shells ripped apart structural beams.
Robin instinctively moved to evade the incoming barrage
But Rowan had already stepped beside her.
He pulled her close with one arm.
Buzz
A subtle distortion rippled outward from his body.
Bullets that should have struck his back bent off course, their trajectories warped just enough to deflect. Shards of glass twisted midair as if brushed aside by invisible currents.
At the same time, the floor beneath Rowan's feet distorted.
Crack
Wood and stone warped inward.
Then collapsed.
Boom!
Holding Robin securely, Rowan dropped through the newly formed opening as explosions consumed the upper floor.
They fell through the level below as well.
Again
Warp.
The next floor twisted and gave way before impact, allowing controlled descent rather than chaotic collapse.
By the time they reached the first floor, the building above them was already coming apart under relentless artillery fire.
Rowan did not stop.
He pressed his palm to the ground.
Warp energy surged.
The earth beneath them spiraled inward, forming a circular depression nearly two meters wide. Soil and stone compressed downward as though kneaded by unseen force.
They descended roughly three meters beneath street level before Rowan halted the distortion.
Above them, rubble crashed downward.
Rowan raised both arms and pressed upward.
The warped ceiling compacted under his influence, debris compressing and fusing into a dense, irregular mass. Explosions continued overhead but the reinforced earth absorbed the worst of it.
Crack… crack…
Dust filtered down.
Then the roaring gradually lessened.
Only distant rumbling remained.
Rowan released his hands.
The underground chamber was dark but stable.
"I didn't expect them to fire so quickly," he said evenly. "There wasn't time to descend normally."
Robin studied him in the dimness.
Despite the chaos above, his breathing remained steady.
"No," she replied softly. "This was the fastest solution."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips.
She brushed dust from her coat and evaluated their position.
Above them, the Capone Family believed they were burying Ghost Hand Rowan under ruins.
But beneath the earth
The hunter was very much alive.