Rengoku and CP9 made their way straight toward the central tower of Enies Lobby.
There, already waiting for them after arriving by warship, was Spandam.
"Oh, at last you've come!"
Spandam's voice rang out as he greeted his subordinates and Rengoku.
"Lucci, Kaku, Kalifa, Blueno… and Vice Admiral Rengoku."
He quickly moved on to the prisoners.
"Eight years ago—guilty of assaulting a Government official in Water Seven, Cutty Flam. And twenty years ago—guilty of attacking a Navy warship in Ohara, Nico Robin of West Blue. Both prisoners have been secured and are waiting just outside the gates."
It was Kaku who reported this.
Spandam frowned, puzzled.
"Your leader is Lucci, isn't he? Why is Kaku the one giving the report instead of him?"
At the question, Lucci closed his eyes in silence, while Kaku let out a sigh.
In the end, it was Kalifa who explained:
"There's someone here who finds Lucci's voice unpleasant to hear."
Her words immediately drew Spandam's gaze toward Rengoku.
"What's the meaning of this, Vice Admiral Rengoku? You've no authority to dictate such things!"
"My apologies," Rengoku said firmly. "But his voice simply doesn't suit him."
Such a brazen statement left even Spandam at a loss for words.
Still, there was no law by which Rengoku could silence Lucci forever.
"Oi, Lucci. I am your commanding officer here. If I order you to speak, you may speak."
But Lucci's lips did not part.
Whether it was defiance to spite Rengoku, or fear of him, none could tell behind his unchanging mask.
"Then at least use that damned ventriloquism of yours!" Spandam snapped.
"Hmph. What does it matter, Director?" another CP9 agent sneered. "Lucci's shamelessness is nothing new. If anything, it's worse than ever now."
At this provocation, Lucci clicked his tongue irritably—then, as expected, the pigeon on his shoulder opened its beak.
"Your stupid face has gotten worse too, Jabra."
This time, the voice of the pigeon carried none of its usual playful inflections. It was sharper, stripped down.
"What was that?!"
Jabra leapt to his feet, fury boiling. But Kaku and another CP9 operative who had arrived earlier quickly restrained him.
"Enough. We're allies. What are you doing?"
"Yo~yooi! Well said indeed. Both of you, cease this at once. After all—it is a reunion after five years, is it not?"
Their intervention quelled the outburst—but stirred up another problem.
"You there," Rengoku's eyes narrowed on the flamboyant CP9 agent. "Is that a kabuki act you're putting on?"
The strange man nodded.
"Yo~yooi! This humble one is Kumadori, a devotee of kabuki!"
"Hmph! It does not suit you. To me, it feels like you mock kabuki rather than honor it."
"Ah! Then this humble fool shall atone with ritual suicide—seppuku!"
With exaggerated flair, Kumadori drew a blade and pointed it toward his own stomach.
But before the steel could pierce him, he reflexively shouted, "Tekkai!" —and the blade stopped short.
"…"
Rengoku's face hardened. His patience was fraying fast.
"…Tell me. Do you find suicide amusing?"
Seppuku.
In his past life on Earth, it had been the way of the samurai, from the Heian to the Sengoku era.
And its reasons were always the same: shame.
The shame of failing one's lord.
The shame of surviving when comrades had perished.
The shame of lost honor.
In Rengoku's era, ritual suicide had already become a relic of the past, a half-buried tradition.
Yet even within the Demon Slayer Corps, seppuku remained.
There were many reasons for it—but the most severe was this: when a disciple became a demon, the master who trained him would bear the responsibility, and atone with his own death.
Every generation, at least one or two such cases would occur.
And now, to see this man Kumadori mock kabuki with a hollow performance, then make light of seppuku… Rengoku found it disgraceful.
His words chilled the air, and the room fell silent. No one knew how to respond.
"Kumadori! I've told you not to fool around with that ridiculous persona of yours!"
Only Spandam, whose Doriki was below that of an ordinary man, remained oblivious to the tension. He scolded Kumadori loudly, softening the atmosphere again.
At last, the zipper-mouthed CP9 agent, Fukuro, broke the silence.
"Since everyone's gathered, why don't we play a little Rokushiki game and measure everyone's Doriki? Chapa-pa!"
Saying so, he darted toward Kaku.
Kaku kicked him to Blueno, who in turn passed him to Kalifa, who sent him to Lucci.
"Chapa-pa! Truly, you've all entered the realm of superhumans! With 10 Doriki being the level of an average guard…"
He touched his head, calculating.
"Kalifa: 630 Doriki.
Blueno: 820 Doriki.
Kaku: 2200 Doriki.
Lucci: 4000 Doriki!"
Fukurou's voice trembled in awe at Lucci's absurdly high number.
"4000 Doriki?! Is that real? Never heard of anyone reaching that!" Jabra exclaimed, astonished at how strong his comrade had grown in just five years.
"It's real, chapa-pa! You've all become so much stronger, chapa-pa!"
Fukuro himself stood at 800 Doriki, Kumadori at 810, and Zebra at 2180.
All four who had been undercover for five years had grown far stronger than before.
Then, cautiously, Fukuro turned to Rengoku.
"Vice Admiral Rengoku, they say you too are a master of Rokushiki. If you'll strike me once, I can measure your Doriki as well, chapa-pa."
The CP9 method of measuring strength was crude, but Rengoku understood the situation.
The tension was already high—he couldn't afford to let it worsen.
"Hmm! Very well, then. I'll leave it to you!"
Once Fukuro braced himself, Rengoku drove a straight punch into his abdomen.
BAM!
Sensing danger, Fukuro reflexively activated Tekkai—yet even so, the blow sent him crashing into the far wall.
Even as he flew, he began calculating.
"Ho-ohhh! Astounding! A full… 9000 Doriki!!"
The number shocked everyone. Jabra, and even the other CP9 members, stared with wide eyes.
They knew Fukuro was not the type to flatter. If he said 9000, it was real.
And yet—they also knew the truth.
The impact had already been absorbed by Fukuro's Tekkai.
Even so, the power had reached 9000.
It could very well have been over 10,000.
And this was only a measure of Rokushiki—excluding Haki, Devil Fruits, or swordsmanship entirely.
For CP9, who devoted themselves solely to Rokushiki, Doriki was enough to define their strength.
But Rengoku was different.
He might even have held back to avoid harming Fukuro.
After all, with just a casual palm strike earlier, he had deformed Franky's steel arm.
There was no way that punch had been his full strength.
Gulp.
Every one of CP9, even Lucci, swallowed hard.
This was the power of a Marine Vice Admiral.
The might of a man destined for Admiral's rank.
"Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous! With such power, there's no way Nico Robin can escape us! Hahaha!!"
Only Spandam, oblivious to the true weight of what had just been revealed, clapped his hands and laughed like a fool.
-----------------------
Want to read 20 advance chapters ahead?
Go to my patreon: patreon.com/Kinglass