The sea was calm, the sky painted in soft hues of blue and gold as the small boat cut through the water with practiced ease. The air smelled faintly of salt and sun-heated wood, and the faint creaking of the hull was the only sound between them. Ryan stood near the bow, staring out across the horizon, mind still lingering on the mission prompt now burned into his thoughts.
He took a deep breath and muttered under his breath, "Yes."
Plans, layouts, guard rotations, the ship structure—and most notably—the Celestial Dragon's known habits aboard the ship on its way to Tequila Wolf. His fingers curled around the wooden edge of the boat as the implications sank in. This wasn't going to be some pirate skirmish or a run from local forces. This will be a strike against the World Government's who thinks itself untouchable, and the target wasn't hidden in a fortress—it was brazenly afloat, surrounded by layers of armed power and innocent slaves.
"Ryan?" Unohana's voice brought him back. She had been watching him-as always, arms loosely folded, eyes calm and focused. "You've gone silent again."
"I accepted the mission," he said simply.
Unohana didn't react. She nodded, stepping beside him. "Tell me what it is."
Ryan met her gaze. "A Celestial Dragon heading to Tequila Wolf, running a slave labor camp."
Her expression didn't change, but there was a coldness that crept into her voice. "Slavery... that exists here?"
"It does. The world govt. here is building a bridge that stretches across all seas, however they're using innocent people to construct it—non-stop, day and night."
Fubuki, who had been seated near the stern, leaned back, her green hair catching the breeze. "So, the System wants you to kill a member of world government. That's bold."
"It's not just about the mission," Ryan said, his voice firm. "It's about doing what's right."
Fubuki raised an eyebrow, then smirked faintly. "I didn't say I disagreed."
Just then, the silhouette of a grand ship loomed on the horizon. It was unmistakably opulent—white sails trimmed with gold, the World Government emblem etched boldly across its banners. Ryan narrowed his eyes. This was it. The Celestial Dragon's ship.
Ryan stood straighter. "We attack now."
Unohana glanced at him and gave a small nod, her calm demeanor turning razor-sharp. Fubuki cracked her knuckles and adjusted her coat. No more words were needed.
As they approached the vessel, the guards on the deck began to stir, noticing the small boat coming too close. Before an alarm could be raised, Unohana moved—a blur of speed and precision. Her blade sang in the air, each strike guided by years of lethal mastery. The first wave of guards crumpled before they even realized they were under attack. Mozambia, a Vice Admiral, tall and broad-shouldered, stepped forward with an angry shout, swinging a massive cutlass. Their blades met in a clash that sent a sharp shockwave across the deck. Unohana's expression never wavered as she absorbed the force, pivoted on her heel, and redirected his blade aside, the movement flowing seamlessly into a counter that sliced along his shoulder guard. The Vice Admiral roared and retaliated with brutal, sweeping strikes, but she danced around each one with minimal movement, her precision making him seem clumsy by comparison. He lunged in desperation, overextending—Unohana's eyes narrowed. In one flowing motion, she sidestepped, her sword flashing upward to sever his guard arm before spinning and delivering a final, clean cut across his throat. Mozambia staggered, choking, before collapsing heavily to the deck. Blood pooled beneath him, and Unohana, without so much as a change in expression, stepped past his body as if he were nothing more than another obstacle removed.
Fubuki followed closely behind, her psychic force rippling through the air. She raised her hand, sending a concussive wave forward that cracked wood and hurled armed marines against the railings. A second wave lifted a group of riflemen into the air and tossed them overboard like scattered leaves.
Ryan boarded last, his boots hitting the polished deck, and was met instantly by the blur of two CP9 agents, their blades already in motion. Steel rang out as his sword met the first strike, the jolt biting into his arm, but he rolled his shoulder and flowed into a counter, his blade sweeping low to hamstring his opponent before twisting into an upward cut that dropped the man in a spray of crimson. The second agent flickered out of sight with Soru, reappearing behind him, but Ryan had been waiting for it—he pivoted, sword flashing in a vicious arc that intercepted the attacker mid-air, the clash sending sparks across the deck before his follow-through carved deep and ended the fight in a single breath.
The ship's interior was lavish but garish—gold-rimmed furniture, velvet carpets, and walls lined with portraits of Celestial lineage. The deeper they went, the more resistance they met. Marines poured from side corridors, but Unohana carved a path through them like a silent storm, her expression unreadable. Fubuki secured the rear, lifting and disabling entire groups with a flick of her fingers.
They emerged onto the upper deck, where chaos still reigned behind them, the sounds of clashing steel and cries fading into the background. The deck shimmered under the midday sun, heat radiating off the white-polished wood. At the far end, under an ornate canopy, stood the Celestial Dragon. Encased in his absurdly inflated glass bubble, he clung to his sense of superiority.
His attendants scattered at the sight of them. Ryan, Unohana, and Fubuki moved with synchronized purpose. The Celestial Dragon stumbled backward, his shrill voice slicing the tension.
"Guards! I demand protection! I am of the Celestial Lineage!"
Ryan didn't even flinch. His eyes locked onto the target as he strode forward. Fubuki's presence was a storm beside him, psychic energy at the ready, while Unohana's calm menace radiated from behind like a chilling wind.
"You like to enslave people don't you," Ryan said, his voice flat, but deadly.
The Dragon's face contorted. "Do you know who I am?!"
"Yes," Ryan said. And with a precise thrust, his blade pierced the bubble.
The glass cracked, air hissing as pressure equalized. The Celestial Dragon gasped, clutching at the jagged breach where Ryan's sword had pierced the bubble. The pristine sphere was splintered and leaking air, the hiss drowning out the man's frantic breaths. He stumbled back, legs buckling under the sudden rush of panic and disorientation. Ryan withdrew the blade, shards of glass tumbling to the deck, and the man collapsed in a heap of velvet and fear.
Around them, the air felt heavier. A silence took hold, unnatural and absolute. Ryan looked up toward the horizon—then, with no hesitation, he swung his blade in a decisive arc, severing the Celestial Dragon's head in one clean stroke. The act would send ripples through the seas.
But he didn't regret it.
Unohana calmly stepped forward, her eyes scanning the horizon. "We'll need to move fast. The retaliation won't be slow."
Fubuki wiped sweat from her brow, exhaling. "This is only the beginning, isn't it."
Ryan nodded, the grip on his sword steady.