Creed stared at Barem's lifeless, unyielding eyes.
Just moments ago, he had dragged the pirate captain into a world of illusion, the realm of his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
This was the first time he had wielded the eyes in battle. Normally, he kept them hidden—his trump card. Yet this brief test had proven their terrifying power. Silent, unseen, they pulled foes into illusions of his making.
Turning back to the battlefield, Creed saw the clash still raging.
Xiao Zi whirled like a thunder-wrapped dragon, lightning bursting from its wings, pirates collapsing in heaps around it.
Creed's gaze sharpened.
Boom!!
His Haoshoku Haki (Conqueror's Haki) surged forth, blanketing the battlefield.
Pirates fell like cut wheat, entire ranks crumpling into deathly silence. When the dust settled, only Marines remained standing.
The Sword Dragon Pirates—annihilated.
Not even ten minutes had passed.
"Clear the field. Dispose of the bodies."
On the open sea, corpses could be dumped for Sea Kings to devour. But here, thousands of bodies would rot onshore, stinking of blood, breeding plague. This was to be their base—such filth could not remain.
At his order, the Marines moved swiftly, binding the unconscious pirates, piling corpses onto boats, and ferrying them away to deep waters.
"Report, sir! All pirates eliminated. Villagers liberated!" a squad captain saluted, voice trembling with awe.
"Good. Let's see them."
Creed led his men into the town.
Gaunt villagers stared with hollow eyes, scarred bodies trembling as Marines approached.
Then, disbelief melted into tears.
"Marines… the Marines are here!"
They fell to their knees, sobbing like children—rugged men, elderly folk, even the half-dead. Wails of grief and relief filled the air.
Ain's eyes turned red, her heart twisting at the sight.
Creed stood silent.
This… was the world's reality.
The New World—paradise for the strong, hell for the weak.
Even in the East Blue, with its meager pirates and Marine presence, villages suffered. Here, in the New World, the common people had no lives of their own. They clung to the mercy of powerful pirates, exchanging tribute or even years of their lifespan for safety.
On Yonko territory, they were the lucky ones. Elsewhere, each sunrise might bring a new tyrant, a new nightmare.
This was the world's law. Strength above all. Without it, even one's life was not one's own.
"Enough," Creed said at last. "This island is now G-K's base."
The unfinished fortress, its training grounds and bastions already built by slave labor, would serve perfectly. Marines completed its construction, emblazoning its walls with the gull insignia and bold letters: G-K.
The Sword Dragon's "island" was rechristened Hai Xi Island. Its people accepted with relief. A name was nothing—safety was everything.
Marines rebuilt homes, raised walls, and restored the village. In time, smiles returned to weary faces, gratitude shining as families sent meat, fruit, and casks of wine to the base.
Half a month later, order thrived. Pirates with bounties were executed. The rest were enslaved, forced into toil. Creed imposed collective punishment: each squad captain's heart rested in his hand. At the first sign of rebellion, punishment would fall.
Thus, no one dared flee. Even among themselves, they crushed deserters to protect their lives.
The island grew secure. The G-K branch was established.
One day, after a patrol at sea, Creed returned to shore.
"Looks like the pirates that plagued this island are gone. Nicely done."
A voice drifted from the coast.
A middle-aged man leaned on a cane, dressed in simple robes. His eyes were sealed shut—yet he turned his head as though he could see perfectly.
Creed froze.
Fujitora?!
(End of Chapter)
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