The "spoils" they were fighting over—a group of pirates who had violated the Divine Kingdom's ban by raiding civilians—were now curled up on their damaged ship, trembling in terror.
Their captain knelt on the deck, completely broken as he tore at his own hair and cried out.
"We only stole a bit of food! Was that really enough to send two Divine Kingdom fleets after us?! This is too unfair!"
Yet in this world where the strong devoured the weak, fairness was often a privilege reserved only for the powerful.
For those pirates, all they could do was accept their fate and endure the pressure and punishment coming from every side.
And for those who would do anything to seize power and profit, they would only become even more reckless in chasing their goals, never caring whether others lived or died.
Marco watched it all with complicated emotions in his heart.
He knew this world was far from perfect, yet he still hoped people could hold on to some measure of kindness and justice.
Only then could the world become a little better.
High above, on the cliff, the biting sea wind howled past like a furious beast, tearing wildly at everything around it.
Jozu stood there in silence.
His diamond body reflected the molten-gold glow of the setting sun, scattering dazzling brilliance in every direction.
Every edge of him looked like a carefully carved work of art, flashing with sharp, piercing golden light, as though it meant to drive away all the darkness around him.
"Ron…"
Jozu lowered his head slightly, his rough, powerful fingers slowly rubbing the sacred and solemn Divine Kingdom badge on his chest.
His voice was low and hoarse, as though carrying a weight of thousands of pounds.
Every words was filled with endless emotion and worry.
'To think he would 'purify' the sea in this way… Is this so-called purification true justice, or just another form of tyranny?'
Just then, a bold laugh rang out like thunder rolling across the sky.
"Gurararara!"
Whitebeard's towering figure shook slightly as Murakumogiri came crashing down in his hand, smashing heavily into the hard rock beneath him with mountain-splitting force.
Broken stones flew everywhere like meteors, crackling as they scattered.
"Isn't this interesting?"
Whitebeard lifted his head, his eyes flashing with excitement and wild enthusiasm.
He raised the wine barrel in his hand high. In his enormous grip, the barrel looked almost small.
Amber liquor poured from its mouth, flowing down his thick, curling mustache like a little golden stream.
"Pirates have started maintaining 'order'! Hahaha! This world is getting more and more interesting."
Beside him, Marco quietly stared at the newly raised flag of the Eternal Divine Kingdom on the distant horizon.
It was the banner of the seventh fleet that had only submitted that morning.
Under the sunlight, it fluttered fiercely in the wind.
Across the sea below, the once-chaotic waters of the New World had already undergone a tremendous change.
Now, the vast and imposing forms of Divine Kingdom fleets could be seen everywhere, hunting down so-called "rule-breaking pirates" like wolves and tigers.
The whole scene looked like a brutal hunting game.
"Using pirates to manage pirates…"
Marco murmured softly.
The blue flames burning across his body suddenly flickered violently, as if disturbed by the struggle in his heart.
"Using violence to restrain violence…"
His brows knitted tightly together.
His eyes carried complicated emotions—helplessness toward the present, and confusion toward the future.
…
The originally quiet atmosphere on the sea was suddenly shattered.
A burst of earth-shaking cheers rang out like thunder, instantly spreading across the entire stretch of water.
The sound seemed ready to pierce the clouds, carrying endless shock and excitement, making everyone who heard it turn their heads.
Looking up, one could see the famous Iron Law Fleet.
At its center, the female captain Rita descended like a war goddess.
Her figure was agile and graceful, and beneath her feet, she was stepping through the air with the strange movement technique known as Geppo, her whole body rising like a light bird in flight.
Her right arm, specially modified and now transformed into steel, flashed with cold metallic light, filled with overwhelming power.
Under everyone's gaze, that steel arm moved with lightning speed and ruthlessly pierced straight through the massive rhinoceros body of Baroque, the man known as the "Blood Butcher."
In an instant, blood sprayed from the wound like a torrential downpour, splashing across the sea and dyeing a large patch of water a shocking red.
But after landing that fatal blow, Rita did not stop there.
The moment she began to fall, she relied on her extraordinary reaction speed and precise judgment to grab the target pirate captain by his messy hair, as if the threads of his fate were now held firmly in her hand.
"According to Article Three of the Eternal Law!"
Rita's cold, unwavering voice rang across the wide sea like a great bell.
Every syllable was filled with authority and resolve.
"I hereby sentence you all—to death!"
That declaration was like the horn of judgment, announcing the end of their crimes.
Nearby, the members of the Whitebeard Pirates stood in silence, their eyes filled with mixed emotions.
Some were shocked by the bloody scene before them, while others seemed lost in thought.
At that moment, Vista suddenly let out a soft laugh, carrying a trace of emotion and self-mockery.
The two sabers in his hands spun lightly between his fingers, flashing with cold light as if telling stories from the past.
"Back then… we never could have imagined a day like this could happen."
The vicissitudes and helplessness in those words made one sigh despite themselves.
As time passed, dusk slowly covered the entire sea like a heavy veil.
The evening glow at the edge of the sky gradually faded, and the first stars lit up one after another like jewels set into a black curtain.
In that hazy night, Ron's figure quietly appeared at the other end of the cliff.
He stood tall and composed, his bearing extraordinary. In his hand, he casually played with a newly forged badge.
The badge was exquisitely crafted, its lines clear and sharp.
Engraved across it were the shining words: Chief of New World Public Security.
It carried some special mission and honor.
"How is it?"
Ron's voice traveled with the sound of the waves, carrying a trace of confidence and satisfaction.
"This system I designed… pirate self-governance."
His gaze was deep and firm, as though he could already see the brand-new shape these waters would take in the future.
At that moment, Whitebeard, his face full of heroic spirit, smashed an empty wine barrel against the hard reef.
The thunderous crash echoed through the quiet night sky, venting the passion in his heart.
"Gurarararara!"
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