Ten minutes later…
By the abandoned port, the Marines reattached their heads and twisted their necks, relieved to find themselves whole again.
They were stunned. What kind of ability was this? To sever limbs and heads without blood, only to have them reattach perfectly? It was absurd. Seeing their own bodies from a disembodied head's view—an experience they would never forget.
The Marine officers gazed at Creed with complicated eyes. A monster—that's what he was. From start to finish, they had been crushed. His overwhelming strength was terrifying enough, but his youth made it even more unbelievable. Already a top-tier swordsman, a master of eerie powers, lightning, and blinding speed.
Still, they accepted defeat. This man had flattened them beyond doubt.
The Marine officers stepped forward.
"Ensign!"
"Ensign, Jimmy!"
"Ensign, Alden!"
"Reporting to our commander!!"
Behind them, over four hundred Marines straightened and saluted:
"Reporting to our commander!!"
Creed's lips curved. Good. These men were his foundation now. Barely five hundred strong—half the crew of a standard large warship. But numbers didn't matter. Their battlefield was not the Four Seas, nor the first half of the Grand Line. It was the New World—where only the strong survived.
He eyed the graffiti-stained sails. "You have one hour. Replace those rags. Paint two words: G-K. From today, we are the Navy's second branch in the New World, alongside G-5!"
His voice chilled. "Fail, and I'll swap your heads with your asses."
Foreheads broke out in cold sweat.
The work was done in an hour. New sails, bold letters: G-K.
Boarding the warship, Creed gave the order:
"Set sail!!"
The ship glided away, bound for the New World.
Two routes lay ahead: coat the ship and pass under the Red Line, or cross the Holy Land of Mariejois. The former meant peril and possible death at sea. The latter—safe, and Marines paid no fee.
Naturally, Creed chose Mariejois.
Three days later…
The sea turned violent. Dark clouds rolled, lightning crackled, hailstones the size of melons hammered down like meteors. Yet beyond this storm, the waters were calm.
On the warship, Lieutenant Allent shouted, "If even one hailstone hits, I'll beat you all to death!"
A blade flashed skyward.
BOOM!!
Creed's slash split the clouds, shockwaves scattering the storm. Sunlight poured down again.
But peace didn't last.
ROAR!!
A massive Sea King burst forth, maw gaping wide to swallow the ship whole. Five hundred meters long, a living mountain.
"I'll take this!"
Lieutenant Allent leapt up.
"Shunpunch!!"
His fist crashed down like a tidal wave, exploding against the beast's skull. The giant fell dead instantly.
"The weather here is insane," Allen muttered.
Creed nodded. Indeed—the New World's seas were madness itself. Here, only strength ensured survival. The weak wouldn't last a day.
He turned. "Allent."
The officer pulled a report. "One day's sail from here lies the Jianlong Pirates. Their captain is worth 400 million."
Creed's eyes gleamed. "Perfect. We'll annihilate him and take his territory for our base!"
"Yes, sir!!"
Excitement shone on the lieutenant's face. Their very first step in the New World—going straight for a pirate worth 400 million.
(End of Chapter)
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