Splurt—
Vergo withdrew his finger from Drake's abdomen, his expression cold and indifferent as he stared down at the man before him.
"You…" Drake clutched at his bleeding wound, eyes wide with fear as he met Vergo's gaze. "Why are you attacking me? Don't you trust me?"
"Whether I trust you or not—" Vergo replied, voice like ice, "—no longer matters."
His arm sliced forward like a blade, faster than lightning, and pierced through Drake's chest.
A spray of blood arced out, splattering across half of Vergo's face.
Drake stared at him in disbelief, completely unable to comprehend what was happening. He collapsed to the ground, blood pooling rapidly beneath him.
Vergo raised his foot and pressed it down on Drake's head. "Whether you're an undercover agent or not, you're not leaving here alive."
"I… I don't understand…"
Drake tried to struggle, but his strength was draining away with his blood.
"You should understand me by now." Vergo adjusted his sunglasses. "An undercover agent can never afford to trust anyone easily. Too many people have trusted the person right in front of them—only to be sold out the next moment."
A terrifying thought flashed through Drake's fading mind. His voice trembled. "You… you're also… whose side are you on—?"
"With that level of composure, you thought you could be a spy? Has Marine Headquarters really fallen so low?"
Vergo suddenly tilted his head, as if hearing something in the distance. Then, without hesitation, he stomped down.
Crack—!
Drake's jaw shattered under his boot.
Drake could no longer speak—only release hoarse, meaningless hisses.
He could scarcely believe it: the G-5 Branch Vice Admiral was actually a spy!
But what terrified him even more was that the Mark of the Contract—which should have granted him regenerative powers—hadn't activated at all.
Could it be… because I betrayed Davy Jones?
Drake had plotted against Davy Jones countless times in his heart, yet the contract's power had never punished him.
He'd thought that maybe the contract wasn't as terrible as the legends claimed.
But this time—just as he had spoken his betrayal aloud—the Mark of the Contract had triggered!
Damn it! Why now, of all times—when I need my regeneration the most?!
As his breath grew weaker, the world before Drake's eyes faded into darkness.
Moments later, two figures stepped out from the corner.
One was Spandam. The other, his bodyguard Nero.
During the chaotic battle on the island earlier, they had deliberately kept a low profile.
Still, Spandam had told Nero that once everything was over, he would report Smoker's "collaboration with pirates" directly to Fleet Admiral Sakazuki.
To avoid the poison gas, they had followed the others into the research facility—only to become separated in the confusion.
When Spandam spotted Vergo, his face lit up as if seeing his own father, Spandine. Overjoyed, he rushed forward.
"Vice Admiral Vergo! I can't believe it's really you! Thank goodness—you'll ensure my safety from here—"
Before he could finish, Vergo swung his arm.
His palm struck Spandam's face with terrifying force, twisting his neck three and a half times around.
Behind him, Nero froze in horror as he saw Spandam's head turned backward to face him—still wearing a look of shock and terror.
Thud— Spandam's body collapsed to the floor.
"So it was just you two idiots," Vergo sighed. "And here I was being cautious. But then again… with such weak life signs, how could you possibly have been a threat?"
Nero screamed in panic and turned to flee.
But Vergo darted forward like lightning, catching up in an instant. His hand seized Nero by the collar and dragged him back.
Nero struggled desperately, stabbing at Vergo's torso and legs with Shigan (Finger Gun)—but the strikes did nothing. Instead, several sickening cracks rang out as his own fingers snapped, and he screamed in agony.
"A brat who doesn't even know Haki dares to set foot in the New World?"
Vergo's arm snaked around Nero's neck and began to squeeze.
Nero clawed at Vergo's forearm, trying to pry it off—but his efforts were useless.
Vergo lifted him off the ground, tightening his grip until Nero's eyes turned bloodshot and his head lolled to the side.
He released the corpse, letting it slump lifelessly to the floor.
"It's been a while since I've savored this feeling of killing," Vergo murmured with a faint smile. "So many years… sometimes I almost forget who I really am."
Then he paused, turning his head toward the far end of the hallway.
"Endless interruptions…" he muttered. "Kill one, two more appear. Kill two, and another shows up…"
Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
From the shadows emerged a man wearing a spotted hat and wielding the cursed blade Kikoku—Trafalgar Law.
His eyes first swept over Vergo, then the blood-soaked floor—Drake's fallen body, Spandam's twisted corpse, Nero's limp form. For a moment, confusion clouded his mind.
But Law knew Vergo's true identity. It didn't take him long to piece things together.
"You're silencing witnesses?"
Vergo looked him up and down, his tone casual. "Law, long time no see. Doflamingo has been keeping a very close eye on you."
"How flattering," Law replied coldly, drawing Kikoku with a metallic clang.
He had already figured out most of what had happened—but one thing still didn't make sense: why hadn't Drake's Mark of the Contract activated its healing powers?
Unless…
Law's eyes darted to Drake's body on the floor, then back up to Vergo.
"That man… he wasn't a 'fallen Marine Rear Admiral,' was he? He was an undercover agent from Marine Headquarters—just like you?"
"Perhaps," Vergo shrugged. "But I don't care to find out. Either way, he's dead. And what a man was before death hardly matters."
He paused, then added,
"Law, you still have one last chance to surrender. Doflamingo has always wanted your Ope Ope no Mi ability. With it, you could help him rise to become not only one of the Four Emperors—but even the Pirate King."
"I refuse," Law said flatly.
"Why?" Vergo asked, eyes narrowing. "Are you really that loyal to Davy Jones? You'd rather help him become Pirate King instead?"
"Captain Davy Jones gave me the power to take my revenge," Law replied, stepping closer. "And you should remember—I have a score to settle with you."
Vergo raised a brow. "Corazon?"
"So you do remember."
"Of course," Vergo said, almost fondly. "Doflamingo's little brother, who chose to serve the Marines as an undercover agent among us… quite the impression he left."
He began to approach Law as well.
"But in the end, every Marine spy meets the same fate—death by my hand."
Law's fury boiled over as Kikoku clashed with Vergo's arm—clang!—both coated in Armament Haki.
"Corazon died protecting you, didn't he?" Vergo said mockingly, tearing open the front of his uniform. "He exposed himself just to save you…"
Through his Observation Haki, Law could feel that Vergo's entire body was encased in Armament Haki.
He knew Vergo was provoking him—trying to throw him off balance.
But instead of losing control, Law calmed himself, remembering Corazon's sacrifice.
"Well, well," Vergo chuckled. "You've learned restraint. I underestimated you."
"But it changes nothing. Since you won't serve Doflamingo, there's only one path left for you—death."
He smirked. "And as for the power of the Ope Ope no Mi, it will simply pass to its next owner—someone who will serve Doflamingo."
Their blades and fists met again, Haki against Haki, locked in deadlock.
But Law noticed something—Vergo's choice to harden his entire body had sacrificed the fluidity of his Haki.
If he could just find the weakest point… one strike would be enough.
Where is it?
Suddenly, a monstrous roar echoed through the corridor.
Both men turned their eyes toward the sound.
The impossible sight greeted them—Drake, who had been lying dead on the ground moments ago, was standing up.
But something was terribly wrong.
His eyes were pure white—pupilless and lifeless—yet his body pulsed with terrifying vitality.
Muscles bulged, fur erupted from his skin—Drake had transformed into his Zoan hybrid form, the Allosaurus-Man Beast!
"What the hell…?" Vergo's eyes twitched. "His life force was completely extinguished—he was dead! How can he still move?!"
Law frowned deeply, equally puzzled.
Drake didn't just move—he charged, roaring, straight toward Vergo!
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