Clang!
Boom!
The sounds of roaring impacts and clashing swords reverberated through the underground cultivation chamber. Outside, however, the guards stationed at the main metal door heard nothing. They remained dutifully at their posts, their eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"Who's that?" one guard exclaimed, spotting a particularly tall figure approaching in the distance.
"Is that Lord Gang?" another wondered aloud.
Thwip! The words had barely left his lips when a spear, seemingly crafted from hardened swamp, instantly pierced his throat.
"Enemy attack!" The remaining guards immediately went on high alert, drawing their swords and firearms.
Bang! Bang! Bang! A hail of bullets rained down on the approaching figure.
Wilder, however, was now quite relaxed. Having spotted the guards from afar, he knew he hadn't arrived too late. Thus, his pace was unhurried, allowing him to calm the ragged breathing from his urgent dash.
Bullets whizzed past him as his form flickered and shifted like an unstable signal.
One by one, sharp javelins condensed from swamp materialized in his hands and shot forth, each one signifying the end of a life.
"Kill him!" Realizing their bullets couldn't hit Wilder, the guards drew their sabers and charged at him as he closed the distance.
Gurgle!
A massive surge of swamp gushed out, adhering to the guards' bodies, dragging them relentlessly downward.
"Ah! What is this?!"
In a blink, over a dozen guards struggled before being submerged in the swamp.
A wave of inescapable despair spread among the remaining guards, and thoughts of retreat began to surface. But it was a foolish hope. To them, this swamp was an insurmountable calamity. In moments, all of them were engulfed.
Wilder stepped through the main metal doorway and paused.
"Better change my appearance for this."
Swamp began to secrete from his body, rapidly enveloping him. As it writhed and shifted, the rudimentary form of a suit of armor began to emerge.
With the final stages of condensation and hardening complete, an imposing figure stood revealed—a general clad in armor of some indiscernible material. He was armed to the teeth, with no visible gaps, resembling an ancient, malevolent warrior spirit returned from the grave, his face entirely concealed.
Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!
His heavy footfalls resounded with a ponderous weight as Wilder strode purposefully inward.
Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!
Inside the cultivation chamber, Diamante and Vassalo, locked in fierce combat, both heard the heavy footsteps. They simultaneously broke off their engagement, turning their gazes towards the entrance.
Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!
The weighty steps drew nearer.
Finally, a "strange person" appeared in the doorway and stopped.
The three figures formed a triangle, the room falling into an eerie, pregnant silence. Two pairs of eyes converged on the figure in the doorway, the atmosphere thick with a subtle tension.
The figure was tall, clad head to toe in what appeared to be scaled armor. The armor seemed to be a single, seamless entity, as if… the armor was the being itself. Its face was hidden, and it exuded an aura of heavy, imposing power.
"Well, now, what have we here?" Diamante was the first to recover, his eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and interest.
Vassalo's expression was grim. He had been losing ground in his fight against Diamante, his usually formidable strength proving surprisingly ineffective. And now, this living suit of armor had appeared. Were they all treating his base like their own personal playground, coming and going as they pleased?!
Wilder's gaze shifted between the two men, finally settling on Diamante—or more precisely, on the bundle of vibrant, dewy spinach he carried.
So that's the Power Spinach?
Though his armor appeared to be sealed from all directions, there were actually two small eyeholes. Furthermore, Wilder would never have designed the joints in a way that sacrificed flexibility and movement.
"So…" Wilder's muffled voice emanated from within the helmet. Both Diamante and Vassalo's expressions flickered, a new seriousness dawning on their faces.
"Can you give that to me?" Wilder raised a gauntleted hand, pointing towards the Power Spinach on Diamante's person.
The cultivation chamber fell silent for a beat.
Then…
"Pfft!"
"Hahaha! Are you kidding me, you bizarre fellow?" Diamante's expression was almost comical, as if he'd heard the most ludicrous thing imaginable. His wide mouth stretched into an exaggerated grin, his voice rising in pitch before dropping into a low, sinister tone.
"It seems negotiations have failed, then." No discernible emotion could be heard in Wilder's voice; it was as calm as when he had first arrived. His actions, however, belied this tranquility.
A double-edged sword, the same hue as his armor, had materialized in his hand. In the next instant, his figure flickered and vanished from the spot!
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! This is not good!" Diamante's pupils contracted. He let out a strange, cawing sound and, almost in the same instant Wilder disappeared, reflexively raised his longsword horizontally before him, simultaneously taking several quick steps back.
CLANG!
Sparks erupted as metal crashed against metal. Wilder reappeared above and in front of Diamante, his double-edged sword clashing violently with Diamante's longsword.
"Heh-hahah!" Vassalo cackled maliciously upon witnessing this. With a sudden movement, he too leaped into the fray!
Naturally, his target was also Diamante.
Woosh!
Diamante's body shot backward with incredible speed, his face etched with an unprecedented gravity. He slapped one hand to the ground, activating his ability.
The floor rippled and undulated like waves, and Vassalo, once again, was tripped up.
"Hahaha!" Diamante let out a booming laugh. His longsword twisted and flew like a ribbon, darting straight for Vassalo!
But in the next second, his laughter froze.
A heavy, armored hand clamped down on his shoulder. The chilling edge of a blade pressed against his neck, radiating a palpable, murderous intent. Wilder's icy voice sounded from directly behind him: "I think… you'd better just give it to me."
Diamante's pupils constricted violently. The hairs on his body stood on end, and he felt as if he'd been flash-frozen, unable to move a muscle.
Wilder used the hand still resting on Diamante's shoulder to deftly unfasten the bundle of spinach. Throughout the entire process, Diamante didn't dare make the slightest movement.
"Die!" But just then, Vassalo charged forward again. His fist swelled visibly, wreathed in Armament Haki, as he aimed a devastating blow at Diamante's face.
"Well then, I won't disturb you any further." Wilder, unnoticed, used his swamp to secure the spinach and retreated a safe distance away.
He had no desire to meddle further. He had what he came for; it was time to leave. As for why he didn't just kill Diamante?
It wasn't that Wilder didn't want to; rather, he couldn't—not yet. If he killed Diamante now, Doflamingo would undoubtedly go berserk. At that point, whether his plans could proceed as intended would become highly uncertain.
Moreover, and most importantly, there was no benefit to killing him, nor did Diamante pose an immediate threat to Wilder, as neither his "Red Demon" identity nor his original one had been exposed.
At most, Diamante would report encountering an armored man. What else could he say?
Wilder slowly made his way towards the exit. Diamante's eyes darted to Wilder's retreating back several times, a desperate urge to pursue him evident, but he was constantly intercepted and engaged by Vassalo.
"This mad dog!" Diamante was practically seething with rage. Vassalo's strength was immense; taking a direct punch from him would undoubtedly result in a significant loss of combat capability. Thus, Diamante didn't dare to meet his attacks head-on, relying instead on dodging and counterattacking.
Yet, Vassalo was infuriatingly fast. Each time Diamante evaded an attack, Vassalo was already upon him again.
After several such exchanges, Diamante finally seized an opportunity. His cape hardened, blocking one of Vassalo's punches, while his longsword executed a deft curve, piercing through Vassalo's torso.
"Urk…!"
The blow struck true, right through the heart. Vassalo's eyes gradually lost focus, and he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
His task completed, Diamante spared Vassalo's corpse no further glance. Without even pausing to catch his breath, he bolted from the cultivation chamber in pursuit of Wilder.
But by the time he reached the outside, Wilder was long gone. Even the guards who had been stationed outside had vanished without a trace.
…
After leaving, Wilder headed straight for the town. He didn't return to the inn he'd stayed at previously but rented a different room. The sea was more perilous at night, so Wilder decided to spend the night on the island and depart at first light.
Once the door was securely shut, Wilder released all the Power Spinach.
There were twenty-five plants in total, each roughly the same size. Wilder examined them closely but could discern nothing particularly special about their appearance, save for a faint, fresh fragrance they emitted.
He casually picked up one plant, rinsed it in the bathroom, and then bit into it directly.
Slowly, a warm sensation began to spread through his body.
"It certainly does increase strength, but the effect doesn't seem to be that significant." Wilder could clearly feel his power increasing, but the actual increment felt rather small to him.
Once the warm current within him subsided, Wilder found that his strength had increased by less than fifty jin. For him, this was indeed a minor boost.
"However, if one had enough of this Power Spinach, then its truly terrifying potential would become evident." Wilder decided to hand these plants over to his Science and Development Department. His current understanding of the Power Spinach was merely superficial. Only after thoroughly comprehending its benefits, drawbacks, and limitations could he use it with confidence.
And the most crucial point was whether they could cultivate more of it. If so, he could potentially create an entire legion of super-strong individuals.
This was Wilder's intention. From the very beginning, he had never planned to use this substance on himself. Instead, he envisioned using it to strengthen his subordinates in the future.
"Nothing can grant limitless, infinite strength." Wilder knew this intuitively, without even needing to conduct experiments. If such a thing existed, the world would have been destroyed long ago. And how could something created by the world itself possess the power to destroy it?
The "destruction" Wilder referred to was not the eradication of species, but of the very foundation upon which they stood—the colossal entity that was the world itself.
Storing the Power Spinach away again, Wilder began to contemplate his next moves.
"The 'Red Demon' identity cannot be used for some time. Although Diamante never saw that persona, there's no guarantee Gang didn't mention it to him. With the Power Spinach taken by me, Doflamingo will undoubtedly mobilize his forces to search for it. The entire underworld will be in turmoil. In such times, any action carries the risk of exposure."
Wilder's original plan had been to delve deep into the underworld, becoming a part of it to learn more about Doflamingo's clandestine empire. However, the sudden appearance of the Power Spinach had thrown everything into disarray.
He had no regrets, though. Something like Power Spinach was an incredibly rare find; once missed, the opportunity might never come again. Compared to that, a disruption in his plans was a minor setback.
"The most pressing matter now is to find an island to serve as a base." Wilder felt that continuing as he was wasn't a sustainable solution. The chances of finding a suitable uninhabited island were slim. His mind began to race through the various powers and prominent figures of the New World.
"If worst comes to worst, I'll have to set my sights on islands that are already claimed." Wilder was reluctant to take this path unless absolutely necessary, as such islands were often, in one way or another, connected to the Four Emperors, belonged to one of the Warlords of the Sea, or were nations recognized by the World Government. The territories of the Warlords were generally not substantial enough to consider.
That left the domains of the Four Emperors and the World Government.
To make a move on the former would undoubtedly mean confronting an Emperor and facing their full wrath. As for the latter… if discovered, Wilder's current Warlord status would be revoked, and he would lose the ability to operate "legitimately" in certain capacities.
"My status as a Warlord absolutely cannot be lost, at least not before a solid base in the New World is established." This was Wilder's reasoning. After all, without a foothold in the New World, losing his Warlord status would make it exceedingly difficult to move his East Blue forces between the two seas. The Marines would no longer be wary of him.
The choices were stark: either remain in the East Blue, maintaining his current power and making the Marines hesitant to act, thereby forsaking any ambitions in the New World; or abandon his holdings in the East Blue and commit everything to establishing a power base in the New World.
"So… am I only left with targeting the Four Emperors?" Wilder's expression was grave as he weighed the pros and cons.
After a long silence, he let out a heavy sigh.
"It's still too early for that."
Wilder temporarily suppressed these thoughts, though a preliminary target had begun to form in his mind.
"Ultimately, personal strength is paramount." Wilder understood that power was always the most crucial factor. He got up and trained for a while, focusing primarily on his swamp abilities. The development of his "Swamp General" form was still incomplete. The variation he had used today—the "Hard Armor"—was one of the more refined and near-complete forms he had developed so far.
After his training, Wilder took a quick shower and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes to sleep.
...…
Elsewhere, Diamante, having completely lost Wilder's trail, wore an expression of utter dismay. After a while, he seemed to compose himself somewhat and dialed Doflamingo's Den Den Mushi. "Young Master, my mission… has failed."
Gurgle! Twisted veins bulged on the Den Den Mushi's face, a clear indication of Doflamingo's mood on the other end of the line.
"Why?" The voice that came through was suppressed, yet frigid to its core with barely contained rage.
Diamante knew this anger wasn't directed solely at him. He recounted the entire sequence of events, holding nothing back.
When he finished, the Den Den Mushi fell silent.
After a long pause, Doflamingo's voice, laced with murderous intent, finally came through: "Seal the island."