Under Doran's bloodthirsty gaze, his massive beast-like arms pressed down with brute force, as if sheer power alone could crush Weiss.
But no matter how hard Doran pushed, Weiss's hands remained immovable—like an unshakable mountain. Even the wooden deck beneath them didn't crack.
It made Doran start questioning reality.
"How is there such a massive difference in strength?" Fully transformed into his beast form, Doran's mind was sluggish, and a flicker of panic crept in.
Weiss, with his keen Observation Haki, could sense even the subtlest shifts in emotion—and he instantly picked up on that sliver of anxiety.
"You're panicking already? Just from this? That's it? That's all?"
For reasons he couldn't understand, those words made a strange fury bubble up inside Doran. He couldn't overpower Weiss—and that humiliation turned into raw rage.
"Smash! Smash! Crush this little insect!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
...
...
Doran swung his massive spiked mace like a man possessed, hammering down on Weiss as if he were pounding metal at a forge. But Weiss didn't even budge. His feet remained rooted to the ground as he calmly deflected every strike with his longsword—each blow parried with effortless grace.
After a prolonged flurry of attacks, Doran finally stopped, panting heavily. He realized he hadn't made a dent.
"Had enough? Good. Now it's my turn."
Weiss's aura suddenly shifted. A red gleam flashed in his eyes, and the killing intent he had been holding back surged forward like a tidal wave—crashing straight into Doran's mind.
Already beastified, Doran's thoughts were slow. Now struck by Weiss's murderous aura, he completely lost all rationality. His instincts were consumed by one thing—destruction.
To destroy everything in sight.
Yet even as Doran transformed into a raging beast, Weiss remained calm. His sword swept forward, condensing a crimson light into a fine line that slashed straight at Doran.
Sensing danger, Doran reflexively raised his spiked mace in front of his chest to block.
But an attack fueled by Weiss's full killing intent wasn't something a mere club could stop.
Shhkk!
The red slash met the black mace—and cut through it like a hot knife through butter. It was as if winter snow had met the blazing sun—silently, it dissolved.
The three-meter-long mace was cleaved cleanly in half. The severed edge was so smooth it reflected Doran's shocked face like a mirror.
The crimson arc didn't stop there. It continued its path, carving across Doran's chest.
Splurt!
A deep gash—nearly two meters long—cut from his left shoulder down to his abdomen. His thick black fur was sheared away, clinging to the wound as blood seeped through it.
ROAR!!
The searing pain made Doran howl toward the sky. He couldn't understand—how could a simple slash hurt so much? And why wasn't he healing? As a Zoan-type, his recovery was supposed to be nearly instant!
He could feel it now—his wound wasn't healing.
If Weiss had known, he would've scoffed. "With that pathetic level of control, you thought you'd regenerate? Dream on."
"Oh? It hurts now? You're screaming? Don't worry... this is just the beginning."
No one could've guessed what Weiss felt when he saw the injured forms of Jack and Kadun earlier. That's why he'd eliminated Lute—the one who caused it all—as quickly as possible.
But Doran, the true ringleader, deserved a slow and painful punishment.
Another slash—this one left a cross-shaped wound on Doran's chest. Surrounded by Weiss's oppressive killing intent, Doran's muscles began to seize. He couldn't move. Couldn't resist. He was a punching bag, helpless under Weiss's assault.
"Think back to what you've done. What, getting scared now? Don't back down, oh mighty great pirate." A cold glint danced in Weiss's eyes.
Don't let the current pitiful state fool you—Doran had a bounty of 80 million berries in the first half of the Grand Line. That number didn't come without reason.
A man like him had taken hundreds—maybe even thousands—of lives.
Judging by how his crew fought, how many had they tortured?
If Weiss had been weaker today, he'd be the one lying bloodied on the ground, crying in agony.
"To the victor go the spoils. Nothing else matters," Doran growled, his beastly voice raspy from the pain. His weapon shattered, his will overwhelmed—he couldn't move an inch.
"We're all warriors of the sea. Just finish me off quickly," he said, seemingly ready to face death with dignity.
"Warrior? Quick death?" Weiss laughed—cold, sharp, unamused. "That's the funniest joke I've heard on the Grand Line. You? A warrior? You're nothing but sea scum."
"A quick death? Did you ever show mercy to the people you robbed? Look at you—calling yourself a great pirate."
With every word, Weiss slashed again. And again. In the blink of an eye, more wounds painted Doran's body in blood.
"What the hell do you want?!" Doran roared, but it was no longer anger—it was pure desperation. He wanted to rip apart the young man mocking him like a toy.
His rage spiked so violently it seemed to push back against Weiss's suppressive aura. His massive beast form began to tremble violently.
Boom!
Finally, Doran could move his arms again. He had reclaimed some control from Weiss's killing intent. He clenched his fists—ready to crush Weiss with brute force.
"HAHAHA! Your killing intent doesn't work on me anymore! Now it's my turn!"
Watching Doran laugh maniacally, Weiss only smirked.
"So ignorant."
The greatest despair comes not from hopelessness—but from thinking you had hope, only to realize the enemy let you have it.
Doran charged like a beast, his massive form cracking the deck beneath him as he raised his fists to pound Weiss into the floor.
Weiss stood still, murmuring, "Playtime's over. I still need to tend to two wounded people."
He didn't even look at the bear fist descending toward his head.
Doran roared triumphantly. His fists were inches away. Victory was his.
Then his expression froze.
"Thousand Strikes in a Flash!"
The red light reappeared—this time, dozens, hundreds of crimson slashes bloomed across Doran's body like flowers of death.
Each strike whispered and hissed, cutting through flesh like maggots burrowing into bone.
The red petals of sword energy flared brilliantly, wrapping around Doran like a final gift—the most vivid moment before the end.
Weiss stepped through the crimson haze, sheathing his sword in one fluid motion. The entire deck surged with bloodlust before fading like an ebbing tide.
Doran collapsed to the floor, no longer in beast form—just a battered man, body riddled with sword wounds.
Crimson scars covered his twisted, fallen frame.
---
"Karina, how are they?" he heard Karina call out, so he ran to Jack and Kadun's side.
"They've lost too much blood. I've bandaged them up, but I can't set broken bones... We need to find a doctor—fast!" Karina looked at Weiss, desperate for him to think of something.
Before Weiss could respond, a shout came from the sea.
"Attention, vessel ahead! This is the Navy! Have you seen the pirate ship of the mad beast Doran?!"
The Navy had arrived.
---
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