At the center of the town, on the high platform.
The host's voice rang out once more:
"Now, if you haven't heard of them, you don't deserve to be called World Nobles!"
Spotlights illuminated the other side of the platform.
There, over a dozen iron cages were pushed forward.
"Besides the Buccaneer brat, this year's competition features another type of super-rare 'rabbit.'"
The host's voice was filled with excitement:
"Finally, after 800 years, they have been found again—the Davy Family!"
"These guys are the Davy Family?!"
The Celestial Dragons below were stunned for a moment before erupting into an even more frenzied reaction.
"The Davy Family?!"
"That legendary family that fought alongside Joy Boy?!"
"Weren't they supposed to be extinct long ago?!"
"Capture them! Study them! Dissect them!"
The Celestial Dragons clamored indignantly:
"You are a hated clan! You lot have never been loved by anyone, not for generations!"
"You couldn't possibly be Buccaneers too, could you? Die in loneliness and despair!"
"It's too dangerous to let these guys live! If we can wipe them all out today, it'll be a day of celebration!"
The Celestial Dragons below shouted and hurled whatever they had in their hands.
Wine glasses, fruit, even knives were thrown at the Davy Family on the platform.
The slaves in the iron cages had nowhere to escape and could only endure everything numbly.
They curled up, using their backs to shield themselves from the flying debris.
In one of the cages, Teach's mother held little Teach tightly in her arms, using her own body to block every attack.
Little Teach stared in terror at the scene below.
They were a group of devils.
Devils dressed in lavish clothes, wearing ridiculous bubble helmets.
They bared their fangs and claws, their faces twisted into grotesque smiles, trampling on others' dignity and treating their suffering as entertainment.
At that moment, the ugliest side of the world was seared into little Teach's eyes.
Beside the high platform, Saint Jaygarcia Saturn whispered to Saint Garling beside him:
"Quite the feat, finding them, Saint Garling."
Saint Garling remained expressionless:
"It can only be called fate."
On the high platform, the host began announcing the rules:
"Allow me to introduce! The hunt for 13 S-class 'rabbits.'
The Davy Family and the Buccaneers are worth 10,000 points each!
The other R-class 'rabbits' are worth 100 points each!"
"The hunt begins in one hour!"
"Now then—" The host drew out his words, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Run, rabbits!"
The moment his words fell, the iron cages holding the slaves opened simultaneously!
The slaves were stunned for a moment, then—
Instinctively scattered and fled!
"Run—!!"
"Escape—!!"
"Hide—!!"
Screams, cries, falls... chaos spread like a plague.
Some slaves still clung to illusions, kneeling on the ground and pleading:
"Please! Spare us!"
"We'll do anything! Don't kill us!"
But what greeted them were cold gun barrels.
Bang! Bang!
Gunshots rang out, and the pleaders fell.
The host stood on the high platform, watching the chaotic scene below, his smile growing brighter:
"The stronger the prey's will to survive, the more it stirs the hunter's killing instincts!"
The death countdown had officially begun.
One hour later, the hunt commenced.
The Celestial Dragons excitedly mounted their respective steeds and, leveraging their speed advantage, quickly pursued deep into the island.
By the time the hunt officially started, countless tragedies had already unfolded across the island.
A young couple huddled in terror behind a giant rock, clutching their infant.
They held their breath, praying not to be discovered.
But the baby's cries gave them away.
"Waa—waa—!"
"Found them, three rabbits."
A fat-faced Celestial Dragon appeared on a white horse, raising his exquisite flintlock pistol and aiming at the family of three, wearing a mocking smile like a cat playing with mice.
The father knelt on the ground, kowtowing desperately:
"Please spare the child! I beg you! He's still young and knows nothing! Kill us instead!"
The Celestial Dragon grinned:
"That won't do. The game rules are—kill all the 'rabbits.'"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three gunshots.
Father, mother, and infant—all fell.
Blood stained the ground.
The Celestial Dragon blew the smoke from his gun barrel, satisfied, then turned his horse to search for the next target.
Similar scenes occurred all over the island.
In the forest, an old man was impaled by a spear, pinned to a tree.
In a cave, a family of five was smoked out and then shot to death.
By the river, several slaves attempting to cross to escape were shot dead in the water, their blood dyeing the river red.
All of this was transmitted in real-time via Visual Den Den Mushi scattered across the island to the Holy Land Mariejois across the sea.
In Mary Geoise, the land of gods, all the Celestial Dragons gathered before a massive screen, watching this "spectacular show" that occurred once every three years.
Holding fine wine and eating snacks, they commented as if watching a play:
"Wow, charge!"
"The Figarland Family has taken the lead!"
"The Bapetto Family and the Manmayer Family are catching up!"
On the screen, Saint Garling's performance was the most dazzling.
Riding a pure white Pegasus and wielding a slender rapier, he galloped across the island.
With every flash of his sword, a slave fell.
This display elicited screams from his Celestial Dragon fangirls:
"Saint Garling is so handsome!"
"As expected of the Commander of the God's Knights!"
"I want to marry him!"
...
In God Valley, Shakky, one of the top prizes of the tournament, was confined in a temporarily converted "display room."
A large number of soldiers guarded the exterior to prevent anyone from hijacking the prize.
Inside, Shakky sat on a chair, her hands and feet bound with special Seastone Shackles.
Her expression remained calm, as if the tragedies outside had nothing to do with her.
Two young guards chatted idly at the door:
"It's so great that Saint Garling gets to marry such a beauty."
"The outcome isn't decided yet. If someone else wins, the prize goes to them."
"True..."
...
The hunt continued to spread across the island.
Sommers of the God's Knights played his "game" to the fullest.
He discovered a child hiding high up in a large tree, a boy of about seven or eight trembling as he clung to the trunk.
"How did you get up so high?" Sommers looked up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face:
"I've laid out thorns as a cushion for you. Jump down now."
As he spoke, he kicked the tree trunk violently.
The tree shook fiercely.
The child in the tree cried out:
"Stop! Please don't! I'm begging you!"
The child's father knelt on the ground, kowtowing desperately:
"Please, stop! That's my child! He's still young! Kill me instead!"
Sommers paid no heed and continued kicking the tree:
"Jump! If you don't jump, I'll chop the tree down! Don't blame me if you fall to your death!"