"Sss—a whole island's worth of treasure?!"
The crowd let out a collective, sharp intake of breath. Using an entire island just to transport loot? Exactly how much was there? Was it measured in tons?
In the next heartbeat, their breathing grew heavy and ragged. Greed flickered in their eyes like a physical flame as they stared at Aeridar. They no longer saw a man; they saw a mountain of gold, a sea of silver.
"Hmph... whether you stay or go, feel free to choose!"
Aeridar let out a cold chuckle and made a welcoming gesture, though his expression remained thick with contempt and disdain.
Treasure was a fine thing, but it was also a one-way ticket to hell. There was nothing wrong with desire, but for those who had desire without the strength to back it up, and lacked the willpower to restrain themselves, Aeridar could only say: Welcome to Hell!
The heavy, rapid breathing was clearly audible as the mercenaries looked at one another. For a long moment, no one moved to leave. Finally, two burly men stepped forward.
"Aeridar-sama, representing the Buggy Pirates, we are forfeiting this mission. We will leave the Bivins Kingdom immediately!"
These two men were felons who had escaped from the Great Prison, Impel Down, and had personally witnessed the Paramount War at Marineford. They knew exactly what kind of monster stood before them, a man who had traded blows with Whitebeard and left the "Strongest Man" with a grievous wound.
In their eyes, facing Aeridar's ability with this small group was nothing short of a death sentence!
"Aeridar-sama, the Lott Brothers are leaving at once!"
"Aeridar-sama, on behalf of..."
"We forfeit too..."
With the Buggy Pirates leading the exit, several other mercenary groups chose to walk away, unwilling to cross paths with Aeridar or the Chris Pirates. However, compared to the initial crowd, the number of people staying behind was still far greater.
Suddenly, a brown-haired man wearing a half-iron mask that covered his jaw and mouth stepped forward. He had two flintlock rifles strapped to his back and two large-caliber revolvers hanging at his waist. He approached Aeridar with a fawning, oily smile.
"Aeridar-sama, I am 'Bullet Rain' Chadman. I wish to serve under you!" the man crooned, bowing and scraping.
Images flashed through Aeridar's mind as he studied the man with a meaningful look. "You want to join me... are you sure?"
Chadman nodded like a woodpecker. "Of course, Aeridar-sama! I am an S-class mercenary. My marksmanship is top-tier; I can definitely—"
Before the sentence was even finished, Chadman's hand moved like lightning. He drew both large-caliber revolvers in a blur, aimed them directly at Aeridar's head, and pulled the triggers.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The twin revolvers roared in a rapid-fire cadence, the thunderous reports blending into a single wall of sound. A hail of bullets erupted. These were custom-made, high-caliber weapons with seven-round cylinders; between the two guns, fourteen heavy rounds were spent in a mere two seconds.
Did it work? Chadman thought, his heart racing with excitement.
But in the next second, his face turned deathly pale.
Every single bullet was suspended in mid-air, hovering less than ten centimeters from Aeridar's head. That tiny gap was the distance between heaven and hell.
"Decent marksmanship. Emptying both cylinders in two seconds is impressive," Aeridar remarked casually. "And with revolvers this big, you didn't let the recoil shake your aim one bit. Your arm strength is quite remarkable."
Tink, tink, tink, tink...
The bullets clattered to the ground, the metallic ring punctuating the silence. Chadman's lips trembled, his face ashen. He stared at Aeridar, unable to find his voice.
"No... no way!"
"A surprise attack from that distance... is this monster able to see the future?"
"He blocked high-caliber rounds from point-blank range?"
The entire sequence had taken only seconds, and the result left the crowd paralyzed with horror.
Chadman, known as "Bullet Rain," was an S-class mercenary of the Underworld famous for his fire rate and saturation. In the dark corners of the world, few could claim to survive his point-blank ambush unscathed. Aeridar was the first.
"The rule of pirates: once you pull a gun, it means war!" Aeridar's eyes turned cold, his aura shifting into something predatory.
"Agh—die!" Chadman screamed in a breakdown, frantically drawing one of the flintlocks from his back.
In the same instant, Aeridar's arm shot out like a blur, his palm slamming over the muzzle of Chadman's rifle.
BANG— CRASH!
First came a muffled thud, followed immediately by the flintlock rifle exploding in Chadman's hands. Shrapnel of wood and metal tore through the air.
"Aaaargh!" Chadman clutched his face, screaming as the flying debris shredded his nose, eyes, and forehead, leaving him a bloody mess.
"Kill him! Now is our chance to become legends!"
Seeing Chadman's state, Bank didn't feel pity; he felt opportunity. He roared, charging forward with his black blade, Kurokawa, in hand.
Bank's cry bolstered the mercenaries' spirits. Greed finally outweighed fear, and the leaders charged with fanatic desperation. Even those who had considered leaving felt they had no choice now. After Chadman's betrayal, they doubted the monster would believe their claims of neutrality.
They gritted their teeth and joined the assault.
"Perfect. I'll take you all out at once! Heh heh heh heh…"
Aeridar gave a savage laugh, a trace of madness crossing his features.
"Impact Wave!!!"
Vroom—
The air trembled before erupting into a violent shockwave that swept forward. The ground shattered inch by inch, and a curtain of dust billowed toward the sky.
…
In the gloomy, dense forest outside Griffinfort, a hundred members of the Elite Strike Team lay in wait. Outfitted like futuristic warriors, they were perfectly silent, the only sound being the chirping of birds and insects.
Sriya was perched on a massive tree branch, peering through binoculars at a large camp a few hundred meters away. Dozens of flags belonging to various noble houses fluttered in the wind. The camp was heavily guarded, with the faint sound of bickering drifting over.
Pere pere pere... pere pere pere...
A quiet Den Den Mushi rang. Sriya lowered the binoculars and expressionlessly pulled a receiver from his vest.
Click.
"Captain, the Captain has made his move."
"Understood. Return to the unit."
Click.
Sriya leaped from the tree, landing heavily on the forest floor.
"Everyone, prepare. Activate the 'Dragonian'!" Sriya commanded coldly, looking at the hundred soldiers behind him.
Rustle…
The soldiers immediately split into two flanks, revealing two towering, grotesque silhouettes in the center. Their blood-red vertical pupils glowed with an eerie light in the shadows.
"Gurrr..."
A low, guttural hiss vibrated through the air as the two monstrous figures began to move.