Even before Blackbeard fell, the situation was already looking grim.
Shiryu and the others had pinned their hopes on Blackbeard unleashing the power of the Dark-Dark Fruit—not necessarily to turn the tide of battle, but at the very least to carve out a path of retreat.
Yet, in less than ten seconds, Blackbeard was taken down by Maude…
With their leader defeated, Van Augur and Doc Q—who had been among the first to pledge allegiance to Blackbeard—were immediately consumed by a sense of utter despair.
Catarina Devon, one of the criminals Blackbeard had freed from Level Six of Impel Down, was not as shaken as Van Augur and Doc Q.
However, this sinister woman, who had been the last to join the Blackbeard Pirates, had no intention of going down with them.
The moment she witnessed Blackbeard being effortlessly dispatched by Maude, shock flashed across her face—but she was already scheming how to abandon her comrades and escape.
Shiryu, on the other hand…
This man, who had believed Blackbeard would ascend to the pinnacle of power, still clung to a sliver of hope.
In his mind, as long as Blackbeard could be rescued from this predicament, the vast potential he possessed would eventually lead him to dominion over the world.
Yet, the current circumstances made it clear—he was fighting a losing battle, and the odds of success were infinitesimal.
Tap… Tap…
As Shiryu assessed the dire situation with a heavy heart, the crisp sound of approaching footsteps echoed from his flank.
"Hoho…"
Along with it came Lafitte's signature eerie laughter.
"Shiryu of the Rain, former Chief Warden of Impel Down… You and I both placed our futures in the hands of men we deemed worthy. But as things stand now, it appears my judgment was the sharper of the two."
Lafitte halted several dozen meters away from Shiryu, his bloodless pale face twisting into a chilling smile. In an uncharacteristically solemn tone, he declared:
"There is no doubt—in the near future, the man who will reign at the summit of the world… will be my captain."
"..."
Shiryu stared coldly at Lafitte.
There was blatant mockery in Lafitte's words and demeanor.
Damn it…
In this situation, Shiryu didn't even have the luxury of arguing back.
A surge of irritation welled up within him, and the poisonous mist seeping from his body began to churn ominously.
Law and Brook watched Shiryu, now exuding a deadly aura, with cautious eyes, while Lafitte remained as carefree as ever.
Three against one—if they still managed to lose, they'd have no business carrying the banner of the Maude Pirates.
More importantly, based on the current matchup, Maude—who had just dealt with Blackbeard—and Aokiji—who was intimidating the Whitebeard Pirates—were already enough to utterly crush Shiryu, Van Augur, Catarina Devon, and Doc Q.
Victory was inevitable. So what was there to fear?
Lafitte, Law, and Brook stood against Shiryu of the Rain.
Meanwhile, Gaya, wielding her battle-axe, charged alone at Crescent Moon Hunter Catarina Devon.
"Murunfuffuffu… Woman, you certainly picked an interesting opponent for yourself."
Catarina Devon sneered as she gazed at the approaching Gaya, her eyes briefly flicking over Gaya's long black ponytail.
"But what's with that hair? It's as wild as weeds. And that outdated outfit—so utterly tasteless. The only thing worth praising… is that pretty little face of yours."
With that, Catarina Devon's lips, smeared with thick lipstick, curled into a sinister grin. Without warning, she activated the powers of her Mythical Zoan Nine-Tailed Fox Fruit.
Boom!
A cloud of white smoke erupted.
As the smoke dispersed, Catarina Devon had transformed—into an exact replica of Gaya.
Aside from the hairstyle and clothing, her facial features and body shape were identical in every way.
Catarina Devon ran a hand along her newly acquired skin, reveling in the smooth texture.
"Feels nice… This is a high-quality face. What a pity… If the timing were better, I would have loved to skin you slowly and make you my prized collection. Murunfuffuffu…"
"..."
Gaya narrowed her eyes, silently observing Catarina Devon, who now bore her appearance.
Devon lowered her hand, her lips curling into a mocking smile.
"What's wrong? Do you finally realize how much better my hair and clothes suit your little face?"
Unfazed, Gaya simply asked, "Your ability is transformation?"
"Murunfuffuffu…"
Catarina Devon let out a few eerie laughs, about to explain—
When Gaya's next words cut her off.
"Then, can you turn into food?"
"…?"
Catarina Devon froze.
"F-Food?!"
"Mhm."
Gaya nodded slightly, raising her battle-axe with a serious expression.
"If you could turn into food, it would feel much better to chop you up."
"…You're asking for death, woman."
Catarina Devon's expression darkened menacingly.
"Got it."
Gaya flashed a faint smile.
—Meanwhile—
Hawkins and Urouge confronted Van Augur.
Before the fight began, Urouge, holding his massive lead pillar in one hand, glanced at Hawkins.
"Oi, Hawkins. You might as well sit this one out. I can handle this guy on my own."
"..."
Hawkins responded with a look that said, 'You're not even worth acknowledging.'
Urouge, pretending Hawkins hadn't heard him, repeated himself.
"..."
Hawkins' lip twitched ever so slightly.
Urouge was about to say more, but Van Augur had no patience for their antics. Raising his rifle, he fired—one bullet for each of them.
The Haki-infused rounds tore through the air, aimed directly at their vitals.
Clang!
Sparks flew.
Urouge had intercepted the shot meant for his chest with his lead pillar, chuckling.
"Haki bullets? What a coincidence—I can use Haki too."
Had he not coated his weapon with Haki, the bullet wouldn't have just sparked—it would have pierced straight through the pillar.
Hawkins, not to be outdone, also blocked his shot.
The difference was, Urouge had used his weapon—
Hawkins had used his body.
The Haki-infused bullet tore a bowl-sized hole through Hawkins' chest.
Sizzle…
Yet, Hawkins remained expressionless. As a small straw doll tumbled from his sleeve, the gaping wound on his chest eerily reversed itself, as if time had rewound.
—Elsewhere—
Inside the prison hold of the Thriller Bark.
A captured pirate suddenly collapsed, a hole blasted clean through his chest—dead before he could even scream.
The other prisoners recoiled in horror.
Transferring fatal damage to a substitute—that was the power of Hawkins' Devil Fruit.
And every single pirate captured in the Florian Triangle by Lafitte had been converted into Hawkins' life-saving straw dolls.
One notable restriction of this ability was that the substitute dolls could only be created with the target's consent.
But thanks to Lafitte's hypnosis, what was once a major limitation had become the easiest condition to fulfill.
In other words—
Hawkins had more lives than Van Augur had bullets.
Which was why he so casually took a shot to the chest.
"Hey, Hawkins—at least try dodging next time?"
Urouge looked at Hawkins, who remained unnervingly calm. Even though Urouge was aware of Hawkins' ability to transfer fatal injuries, he still found the situation puzzling.
Hawkins continued to ignore Urouge, as if they weren't even on the same wavelength.
Drawing a card from his deck, Hawkins stated calmly, "Evasion rate: 0%. Survival rate: 100%. How interesting. In other words..."
As he spoke, his gaze lifted to Van Augur, who was silently reloading his bullets.
"Your 'shots' won't be able to kill me."
"Bang! Bang!—"
Van Augur's response was a rapid seven-shot barrage, each bullet infused with Armament Haki, striking Hawkins directly.
Sizzle...
Seven straw effigies fell from Hawkins' body, while he remained completely unscathed.
Then, in the brief moment while Van Augur reloaded, Hawkins drew a second card.
"Your odds of victory... 0%. The outcome of this duel is already decided."
"Bang! Bang!—"
Another seven shots, yet they had no effect.
A flicker of doubt surfaced in Van Augur's mind.
Hawkins, still composed, raised his arm slightly. One after another, more straw effigies tumbled out from his sleeve, as if produced by an assembly line.
"Don't you understand yet? This is a battle you are destined to lose."
"...!"
Van Augur's eyes turned cold.
For a man who frequently uttered "this is fate," facing Hawkins—whose words and actions reeked of divination—felt like an oddly humiliating experience, despite the lack of actual harm.
Off to the side, Urouge stared at Hawkins as if he were seeing a ghost.
This guy...
Could he really be planning to win by exhausting the enemy's ammunition?
Like a sudden epiphany, Urouge realized Hawkins' strategy.
In that case—
For a sniper as skilled as Van Augur, this truly was a battle he couldn't win.
Elsewhere.
Wearing a raven-shaped mask, Philo arrived before Doc Q, just as she had wished.
"Cough, cough..."
Doc Q examined Philo's plague mask while coughing, then said, "That 'prop' on your face... cough, cough... brings back some memories."
"This isn't a prop. It's a symbol."
Philo took a deep breath and slowly assumed a grappling stance.
"A symbol, you say?"
Doc Q seemed to recall something and muttered indifferently, "Such lofty ideals... Only that wretched 'hometown' of mine would still uphold them as truth. Cough, cough... If you really came from there, then I suppose... I was too merciful back then."
"Merciful? You're nothing but a demon!"
Like an arrow, Philo shot toward Doc Q, hands poised—one high, one low, fingers slightly curled.
"Grappling techniques...? Cough, cough... Too immature."
Doc Q tightened his grip on his scythe. As Philo lunged in, he swung the blade in a circular arc, unleashing a slashing crescent.
Philo narrowly dodged, slipping her hand past the scythe to strike at Doc Q's shoulder joint.
However, Doc Q quickly shifted his grip, using the scythe's curved backside to slam Philo in the abdomen.
"Ugh!"
Philo let out a muffled groan as she was sent flying.
But before she hit the ground, she scattered a fine dust of toxic powder into the air.
"Cough, cough..."
Doc Q glanced at the poison dust Philo had released.
"Poison? Against me?"
A glint of disdain flashed in his eyes. With a slight sneer, he infused his scythe with Armament Haki, its darkened edge cutting through the lingering toxins.
Then, with an unexpected burst of speed that contradicted his sickly appearance, Doc Q stomped the ground and charged at Philo while she was still airborne.
The intent was clear—to end the fight with a single, decisive slash before she could even land.
Whoosh—!
The Armament-coated scythe cut through the air, aiming for Philo's body.
At that instant, Jim, in his Triceratops hybrid form, stepped in, using his body to block the incoming blade.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed into the air.
The scythe sliced through Jim's Armament Haki and his hardened hide, embedding itself deep into his flesh.
Despite such a severe injury, Jim didn't even flinch. With an impassive expression, he locked eyes with Doc Q, raised his hands, and pressed them firmly onto the embedded scythe blade.
Doc Q's heart trembled slightly at the sheer madness of Jim's pain tolerance.
"This guy...?"
Sensing danger, Doc Q made a split-second decision, immediately releasing his grip on the scythe and retreating at full speed.
Just as he moved, several ghostly white figures emerged from where he had stood.
"Damn it! Missed again!"
Hovering in the air, Perona clenched her fists in frustration as her Negative Hollows failed to land a hit.
"It's not your fault."
Jim, unfazed, pulled the deeply embedded scythe from his body, causing fresh blood to splatter. Then, in a deep voice, he stated:
"The fact that he abandoned his weapon so decisively proves his sharp instincts. That's why your ghosts couldn't land a hit."
"Huh? Big guy, are you trying to comfort me?"
Perona lowered her altitude, looking at the usually silent Jim in surprise.
Jim didn't respond immediately. Instead, he coated his hands in Armament Haki and, right in front of Doc Q, snapped the scythe in half with his bare hands.
After that, he lifted his head slightly and looked at Perona.
"I'm not comforting you. It's just... I've never seen your 'ghosts' actually hit a crucial enemy. But I have seen them affect our allies countless times. So from the start, I had no expectations."
"!!!"
Veins popped on Perona's forehead as she gritted her teeth. "You barely talk, and now you decide to say all that at once?! Must've been exhausting for you!!!"
Jim gave a slight nod.
"!!!"
Perona snapped. "What the hell is that nod supposed to mean?!"
Jim didn't respond. Instead, he turned his gaze forward, locking onto Doc Q. Casually, he tossed the broken scythe to the ground.
"Cough, cough..."
Doc Q glanced at his own weapon, which he had personally coated with poison, now lying in pieces. In a quiet, ominous tone, he said, "As expected of an Ancient Zoan. Even after a lethal dose of poison, you can still stand. But... in one more minute, you'll be dead."
"..."
Hearing this, Jim glanced down at the gruesome wound on his chest, then rumbled, "Your 'poison' won't affect me. Not because of my Ancient Zoan abilities, but because my crew has a skilled doctor."
He paused, then added quietly, "Actually, two."
Before the words had even settled, Philo stepped up beside Jim.
As part of Jim's grueling training regimen, not only had he undergone countless injuries and recoveries, but he had also endured repeated exposure to toxins and their cures.
And the one responsible for that brutal training—was Philo.
This process had granted Jim an extraordinary resistance to poison.
Shortly after, Perona also landed beside them.
Once again, the Blackbeard Pirates found themselves at a disadvantage, outnumbered in a battle they couldn't win.
At this rate, their struggle was nothing more than a futile resistance.
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