"You… you… how…"
Nezumi's voice trembled as though an invisible hand was gripping his throat, sharp and piercing.
His beady little eyes were locked on Hawke, wide with terror and disbelief.
How could this be?!
Impossible!
One hundred thirty-five million, four hundred ninety thousand Belly!
Hawke… actually managed to state the number exactly?!
The only reason he could remember the number so clearly… was because every week, he went to the abandoned manor's basement to personally count the stacks himself.
Sometimes, he'd even take the time to inhale the intoxicating scent of the money.
"You… what did you do with my money?!"
Nezumi's sanity collapsed, swallowed by overwhelming rage and fear. He jabbed a trembling finger at Hawke.
"Guards! Somebody! Get over here!"
"Arrest this insolent bastard right now! He dares to embezzle Marine property!"
"This is mutiny!"
"This is open rebellion!"
A few of Nezumi's most loyal lackeys immediately reacted, instinctively drawing their pistols.
But before they could even lift them, Hawke's Marines had already moved in, swiftly disarming and pinning them down.
"You! You bastards! What do you think you're doing?!"
Seeing this, Nezumi nearly went berserk, screaming,
"I'm the highest-ranking officer of Branch 16! Are you trying to stage a coup?!"
"..."
But the only response he received… was silence.
Around him stood dozens of Marines—soldiers he'd always treated like dirt, men whose salaries he skimmed and whose rations he withheld without a second thought.
Now, every one of them looked at him with cold, hateful eyes.
It was as if they were watching a clown performing a pitiful act alone on stage.
Highest-ranking officer?
Heh.
When you docked their pay, ignored the failing equipment, left them starving and untreated for wounds… did you ever once think about your title as the "highest-ranking officer"?
Now, the mountains of money you've been hoarding, the dirty Belly you ripped straight from our teeth, have been uncovered by Hawke-sama.
Hawke-sama already gave the order: seventy percent goes back to the civilians you and Arlong have bled dry, and the remaining thirty percent is distributed among the brothers who've been fighting and dying out here.
That money isn't just returning to the people… it's going back into our own pockets!
Do you have any idea how many of our families live in these waters?
Whose home hasn't been destroyed by you and Arlong, you parasites?!
That money belongs to them. It belongs to us.
And you expect us to back you up right now?
If it weren't for Hawke-sama holding us back, someone would've already caved in your face and smashed your balls to pieces!
"..."
Arlong still hadn't moved, silently watching Hawke.
This young Marine Commander…he had taken down the perimeter guards without making a sound.
Even Mōmu hadn't made a noise.
This wasn't something a regular branch officer could pull off.
Things… weren't as simple as they seemed.
...
Nezumi's eyes darted toward Arlong, as though clinging to his final shred of hope.
He stumbled and crawled across the floor, practically throwing himself toward the Fishman, screaming:
"Arlong! Arlong, help me!"
"This bastard's staging a mutiny! Kill him for me!"
"Kill all these disobedient Marines! Every last one of them!"
...
But Arlong didn't even glance at him.
To him, Nezumi was nothing.
"..."
Seeing Arlong unmoved, panic gnawed away at Nezumi's sanity.
His teeth clenched, his face twisted, and then he shouted shrilly:
"Money! One hundred thirty-five million, four hundred ninety thousand Belly!"
"That bastard stole the money! Help me kill him, and we'll split it! Fifty-fifty!"
...
At that, Arlong's gaze finally shifted.
Sixty million-plus Belly…
That wasn't a small amount.
And Arlong lived by a simple creed:
Belly was the most precious thing. The most reliable thing.
Besides…
He was curious.
This young Marine who dared storm into Arlong Park and sit in his chair…he wanted to see what Hawke was really capable of.
A branch Commander… and yet so arrogant?
"Sha-ha-ha-ha!"
Arlong rose to his feet, his towering frame radiating crushing pressure.
His sharp, jagged nose caught the sunlight as he glared at Hawke.
"Boy," Arlong rumbled, his deep voice dripping with menace.
"Humans are always the same… greedy and stupid."
"Your death… is here."
"Shhhk!"
Before his words even finished, Arlong stomped down hard, propelling himself forward like an arrow loosed from its bow!
His speed was terrifying, and his massive hand sliced through the air like a razor-edged shark's fin,aiming straight for Hawke's skull!
The overwhelming strength of a Fishman—on full display.
...
Hawke watched Arlong's sudden charge, his expression completely unshaken.
Back when he chose his training path, the system had given him options: swordsmanship, various close-combat disciplines…
Armament Haki, Observation Haki, and physique were fixed foundations, non-negotiable.
But martial arts—he could choose freely.
In the end, he chose fists.
Fist techniques.
And as for why…?
Because as a man, there's nothing more satisfying than a fight where every blow lands solid and true!
The sound of bones shattering that's the sweetest symphony of all!
Slowly standing up, he gently snuffed out the cigarette between his fingers in the ashtray.
"Come!"
Hawke spat out a single word.
A layer of jet-black Armament Haki rapidly spread over his fists like spilled ink, the deep, solid sheen gleaming ominously.
His body sank slightly, left leg forward, right leg back.
He planted himself in a firm bow stance, as steady as a rock.
Then...
His right fist drew back to his waist, muscles tightening in an instant before exploding forward like a cannonball!
Boom—!
His solid, iron fist smashed squarely into Arlong's face.
Crack—!
The sound of bone shattering echoed crisply.
"…"
Arlong's eyes went wide, pupils reflecting Hawke's cold, expressionless face.
This…
This can't be happening?!
He… this young Marine… shattered my nose and teeth… with a single punch?!
"Whoosh—"
Arlong didn't even have time to process the searing pain.
His massive body was flung backward as though struck head-on by a speeding train, flying away even faster than when he charged forward!
Bang!
He slammed violently into the wall behind him, bursting through it as debris and splinters scattered in all directions.
His body embedded deeply into the courtyard wall, dust and rubble raining down… silent and motionless.
"..."
Inside the tower, an eerie silence fell.
Nezumi's sharp, shrill voice caught in his throat, his face frozen in shock.
He rubbed his eyes hard, unable to believe what he was seeing as he stared at Arlong's corpse.
No…
How could this be?
Get up!
You… Arlong, the one who ruled the East Blue with absolute strength, get up!
If you're dead… what about me?!
"..."
The cadres of the Arlong Pirates stood rooted in place, frozen stiff, their weapons hanging limply in their hands.
Arlong was their boss—the great powerhouse who came out of the Grand Line!
And yet… he'd been killed… killed by a single punch from a human Marine?!
"..."
The Marines who had charged in behind Hawke felt a blazing, indescribable light ignite in their eyes.
Instinctively, every one of them straightened their backs, breathing heavier with excitement.
They had always known their Commander was strong, that he never showed mercy when dealing with pirates.
But who could have imagined… that he was this strong?!
Facing Arlong, the so-called ruler of the East Blue, he crushed him with a single blow!
This… this is Commander Hawke's true strength!
This is the might of the man who made every pirate in the East Blue tremble at the mere sound of his name—the "Blood Hawk," Rayne Hawke!
The Marines immediately sprang into action, cutting down the stunned Arlong Pirates before they could react.
[Ding! Killed pirate Arlong, bounty 20,000,000 Belly.]
[Gained 2,000 Justice Points.]
[Current remaining Justice Points: 24 + 2000 = 2024 points.]
Hawke glanced at the system panel, and the influx of Justice Points put him in an excellent mood.
He turned around, his gaze landing on Nezumi, who sat pale-faced and trembling, collapsed weakly on the ground.
"Hawke!"
Nezumi scrambled forward on all fours, crawling toward Hawke, his face a twisted mess of terror and forced flattery.
"I—I was the one who promoted you!"
"Don't you remember? Back then, when you were just a Third-Class Seaman..."