Though Jerry's acting was impeccable, Vice Admiral Gion, who was growing quite familiar with his antics, felt a prickle of suspicion. She simply didn't believe that Jerry, in his normal state, could be hit so easily. She couldn't decipher his angle, but she knew there was one.
As Jerry fell heavily to the ground, a thick cloud of dust billowed up, completely obscuring his body and the fierce duel between Crocodile and Cavendish.
"Ahem… Crocodile, you dare!?"
Suddenly, Jerry's weak voice—a perfect blend of shock, anger, and anxiety—erupted from within the smoke. A moment later, three black shadows shot out of the dust cloud like meteors, landing hard in different directions. Jerry flew back toward the main street, Cavendish was thrown to the side, and Crocodile was blasted backward toward the city outskirts.
Under the stunned gazes of the crowd, Jerry scrambled to his feet. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, but he paid it no mind. He slapped his hands against his waist in a panic, his voice rising into a grief-stricken roar that echoed through the streets.
"No! My blueprints!"
Everyone looked closely and saw that the small bag he had been carrying was, indeed, missing.
"SAND CROCODILE!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with despair. "GIVE ME BACK MY BLUEPRINTS!" He charged toward the Warlord with a vengeance.
While most onlookers had no idea what blueprints he was talking about, the few who knew the inside story felt a jolt of alarm. Still, they couldn't be sure if this was real or just another part of Jerry's elaborate performance. Crocodile himself certainly looked baffled, and as Jerry's accusation registered, his eyes widened with the dawning horror of being framed. He remembered the chaos in the dust cloud—instinctively striking back at an unseen attacker, leaving behind a small dune of sand as the only evidence of his involvement. It wasn't conclusive proof, but it was enough.
"Jerry, this scoundrel is my opponent! Trust in my beauty, I will retrieve that item for you!"
Thunder roared as Cavendish, ever the hero, intercepted Jerry's charge and shot toward Crocodile, his body crackling with raw electricity.
Naturally, Jerry's other opponents wouldn't let him act freely. The masked CP0 agent, a cruel smirk on his face, moved to block Jerry's path, happy to witness his adversary's despair. Gion followed, rejoining the siege, though a flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes. She vaguely sensed Jerry's intention but chose to remain silent. She had no love for the Seven Warlords and was content to let them tear each other apart.
Seeing this, Jerry, fully possessed by the spirit of drama, continued his roaring tirade. "Alright! I'll leave the old sandman to you, handsome guy! I'll deal with this damn white-faced snake first!"
He gnashed his teeth and glared at the CP0 agent. "If you hadn't knocked me over there, my blueprints would never have been stolen! This is all your fault! I'll kill you!"
While shouting, Jerry shifted his focus entirely. He dodged and parried Gion's attacks whenever he could, but all of his offensive power was mercilessly directed at the masked agent. After a long and fierce tug-of-war, Jerry quietly adjusted his position. He swung a heavy punch, meeting Gion's sword head-on, and used the recoil to stagger back. Then, as if he had no time to dodge, he allowed the CP0 agent's follow-up strike to land squarely on his chest.
With a pained cry, he was sent flying backward once again—crashing directly into Saint Croft, who had just woken up and was shakily pulling himself to his feet.
CRUNCH!
Under the wide-eyed, horrified gazes of Princess Sabrina and the butler, Jerry's body slammed into the Celestial Dragon, carrying his fat form into the wall of a nearby building with a sickening thud.
"Everyone, rescue Saint Croft! Quickly!"
"CP0! What have you done?!"
The followers swarmed the area in a chaotic mess, trying to pull Jerry off the World Noble pinned beneath him.
"Uh…" Gion's mouth twitched. This scene was giving her a powerful sense of déjà vu.
At that moment, the CP0 agent clutched his abdomen where Jerry's fishing rod had torn through his suit. How could he not know he was being used? The key point was that after all this, he had no idea if Jerry was truly hurt, but he knew with chilling certainty that he himself was probably going to die. Teased and manipulated again and again, his fragile nerves finally snapped.
"LEVIATHAN! YOU DESERVE TO DIE! AAAAAHHHHH!" he screamed hysterically, charging at Jerry like a madman.
"Wait!" Gion thought, sensing something was wrong, and sprinted after him at full speed.
As the agent appeared before him, ready to unleash his final, desperate attack, Jerry, who had just emerged from the dogpile, suddenly looked up. The panic and pain were gone, replaced by a low, cold voice.
"Hey. I've been waiting for you."
Jerry's calm demeanor was like a bucket of ice water, shocking the furious agent back to some semblance of clarity. But it was too late. He could no longer change his move; he could only pour every last ounce of his strength into the attack he had already committed to.
"Finger Pistol!"
With his right hand, Jerry tightened his grip on his fishing rod. It was now completely dyed black with Armament Haki, and several arcs of blue energy crackled along its length—power he had been quietly accumulating while the agent was having his meltdown. He twisted his body with fluid grace, sidestepping the agent's attack by a hair's breadth.
"Annihilate."
The devil's whisper lingered in the agent's ear. Jerry's fishing rod, striking with the force of a thunderbolt, pierced his enemy's heart in an instant.
At the same time, a delicate cry pierced the air as Gion's powerful attack arrived. She swung her famous blade, Konpira, directly at Jerry, intending to force him to abandon his attack and defend himself, a desperate gamble to save her ally.
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