But ideals are always fat and pretty, while reality stays skinny and cruel.
When Rorin D. Sol saw the scar-faced captain coldly order his crew abandoned and his ship turned to flee, his eyes flashed with disdain. Ruthless, sure. Sharp decision-making in a crisis, absolutely. But that very cruelty guaranteed one thing—this man would never stand on the world's highest stage.
"You really think you can slip away from me with that level of power?"
Before his words even finished echoing, Rorin's body surged, swelling larger and larger—his unique Prometheus ability, Gigantification!
Flames roared up around his titanic form, the temperature spiking like hell itself had been dragged into the open sea. His golden-tinged inferno scorched the waves until seawater boiled into clouds of blistering steam that clung mercilessly to the pirates.
"AAAAAHHHHH!""My skin—it's melting!""Hot! HOT! My ass is roasting!""…Wait, how does your ass roast before the rest of you?!"
The deck dissolved into screaming chaos as four pirate ships were swallowed in a scalding steam cage. Faces turned red, bodies cooked alive, and the longer it dragged on, the more their agony built.
Back on the merchant ship, Jack Bovan collapsed in a heap, his worldview shattered. Just minutes ago, he'd laced Rorin's food with poison. Now? He was watching a scene straight out of hell—no, worse, because hell didn't breathe fire and walk around smiling. His soul practically left his body. It's over. I'm completely screwed.
And it only got worse.
As Rorin's blazing form expanded, the choking steam evaporated in an instant, leaving nothing but a colossal oven of flame. His fire, fused with the Gold Emperor's Heavenly Flames, descended on the pirate ships like divine punishment.
"Heavenly Fire!"
The moment it touched wood, the ships exploded.
"BOOOOOM! BOOM! BOOOOOM!"
In seconds, four ships were nothing but ash and drifting cinders. Thick black smoke hung heavy over the sea, choking the horizon.
Then, a stirring in the haze. Something beat its wings.
A figure burst free—a man, barely alive, body mangled and charred despite his Armament Haki. Scar-Face himself, now revealed to be a Zoan user, the Bird-Bird Fruit, Model: Swallow. The most basic, bottom-shelf fruit imaginable. And yet, here he was, coughing blood, eyes bloodshot with fury.
"Prometheus!" Scar-Face roared hoarsely. "Why did it have to be you here?! Why not anywhere else, anyone else? Why come for me!?"
Rorin, flames receding as he looked utterly innocent, flashed him a playful grin."Don't pin this on me. I didn't ask you to show up—you're the one who stuck your nose where it didn't belong."
His smirk twisted into boredom. "Anyway, this dragged on long enough. Fighting you lot hasn't paid me a single berry. Time to wrap it up."
Rorin snapped his fingers. His flames roared alive again."Fire Release—Great Fireball Jutsu!""Enhanced with the Gold Emperor's Heavenly Flames!"
This wasn't like his earlier warm-ups. This was the kind of attack he believed even Katakuri himself wouldn't want to take head-on. Against a patrol captain? The result was already written.
Scar-Face knew he couldn't dodge. With a snarl, he cloaked his entire body in Armament Haki, wings beating violently, whipping up a storm. Shockingly, his gale carried Haki within it, black winds screaming in defiance.
Then came the collision.Fire and storm slammed together with a blinding flash, thunderous noise splitting the heavens.
"BOOOOM!!!"