Bahr slumped against the ship's railing, his head hanging limply as he stared blankly at the choppy waves below. The sea breeze carried a heavy, briny stench, but he paid it no mind—his thoughts were entirely consumed by what had just happened on the streets of Saintland Kingdom.
When he had punched that Celestial Dragon and sent them flying, it had felt exhilarating. But now, cooled by the ocean wind, regret was creeping in.
Those Celestial Dragons acted like gods, strutting around in their spacesuit-like bubble helmets, spouting nonsense about being the "Descendants of the Creator," their noses practically pointing at the sky.
And the World Government? Even worse. To protect those useless parasites, they'd commit any atrocity—massacring villages, erasing entire islands from the map—all without blinking if a Celestial Dragon so much as frowned.
Sure, that punch had felt good in the moment, but now? The World Government's bounty posters were probably already printed, ready to plaster across every island. No more leisurely cruises, no more carefree fishing trips.
Any second now, the Marines could surround them, sealing off any escape.
"Why did I have to get involved?!" Bahr suddenly slammed his fist against the railing, startling a flock of seagulls perched on the rigging.
He never should've come to Saintland Kingdom. Even if he had lost his mind and decided to visit, he should've avoided the main streets. The moment he saw that telltale bubble helmet, he should've turned tail and run. And most of all, he shouldn't have let his temper flare and rushed in to save that crying child.
By taking the blame, he might've spared the people of Saintland Kingdom, but so what? Right now, they were probably hiding in their homes, relieved, with no one remembering who had saved them. Some might even be cursing him under their breath for bringing the World Government's wrath down on their island.
His once peaceful, comfortable life—gone in an instant, all because of one reckless punch.
"Filthy commoner!" A shrill scream suddenly erupted behind him.
Bahr turned to see Shalria thrashing like a fish caught in a net. Her pearl-studded spacesuit was crumpled, her bubble helmet shattered, but the arrogance in her eyes remained undiminished. "Release me this instant," she shrieked, "and I might grant you a quick death!"
After punching her, he hadn't wanted to let her off easy, so he'd tied her up and dragged her aboard. Now, watching her kick and flail, his anger flared anew.
"This is all your fault, you damn woman!" He strode forward and delivered a brutal kick to her side.
Shalria groaned, curling into a fetal position, but a second later, she lifted her head and hissed, "You're dead! When the Marines arrive, I'll make you my slave! I'll torture you every day until you beg for death!"
Bahr laughed darkly, pressing his foot down on her hand and grinding it deliberately, relishing the way her face twisted in pain. "Still playing the goddess, huh? You really think you're untouchable? How about I toss you to the fish right now—leave nothing behind?"
He hadn't wanted trouble, but now that he'd started, he might as well finish it.
Shalria, despite her face being twisted under the foot, still managed to let out a shrill, mocking laugh from her throat, veins bulging on her neck. "Do you think threatening me will work? The World Government's warships are on their way right now! The Admirals could crush you into dust with just a flick of their fingers!"
She struggled to lift her head, her hands mangled and deformed, yet her eyes remained filled with arrogance. "When the Marines arrive, I'll personally watch you kneel before me, begging for the mercy of a clean death—no, I'll make sure you live through every torture imaginable! First, I'll chop off your limbs, then dunk you in saltwater, denying you even the privilege of dying from pain!"
"..."
Even bound and helpless, she still dared to act so arrogantly, repeatedly threatening him with the World Government and torture. Did she really think he was scared?
Looking at the woman's grotesquely distorted face, Bahr suddenly smirked, his gaze sharp as a blade sweeping over Shalria. "Tch... you Celestial Dragons really know how to piss people off."
He deliberately undid his buttons one by one, his voice dripping with malice. "You're not bad-looking. How about I let you experience what it's like to be a slave to a 'lowly commoner' first?"
Shalria's face instantly drained of color, her widened eyes filled with terror as she writhed violently. "You wouldn't dare! Stay away from me, you filthy thing! Get away!"
Bahr's expression darkened, but seeing her struggle desperately, on the verge of tears, he couldn't help but sneer.
Killing her would be as easy as a single slash—but letting her off that easily? No way.
Weren't the Celestial Dragons supposed to be gods? Well, he was going to crush that arrogance beneath his feet, piece by piece, and savor every second of it.
The air suddenly rippled with distortion as Bahr reached into the void and pulled out a pitch-black iron rod. He lifted Shalria's chin with it. "Choose. Either taste this thing's bite, or..."
Feeling the cold metal against her skin, Shalria's pupils shrank to pinpricks. If that baseball-bat-sized rod came down on her, she'd die!
"Fine. Seems you've made your choice." Bahr smirked as Shalria remained silent. The rod slid slowly down her trembling waist, finally stopping at the most vulnerable spot on her inner thigh.
Shalria's scream was nearly deafening, tears and smeared mascara streaking her face. "W-Wait! I—I'll do anything you say! P-Please, don't—!"
"Tch..." Bahr scoffed, tossing the rod aside. It landed on the deck with a dull thud.
So much for the "descendants of the gods." In the face of death, everyone was equal.
...
Marine Headquarters—Marineford.
In the conference room, Fleet Admiral Sengoku massaged his throbbing temples, unable to hold back his frustration. "These Celestial Dragons really have nothing better to do! Instead of staying in the Holy Land, they just had to go stir up trouble in the East Blue!"
"What else would they be doing? Probably off to Saintland Kingdom to pick out slaves," Vice Admiral Tsuru adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, refilling her teacup with hot water.
"All for something so trivial..." Sengoku slammed his fist on the table, making the documents jump. But he swallowed the rest of his words.
The Marines had seen enough of the Celestial Dragons' nonsense. No matter how angry they got, they could only grit their teeth and bear it.
"Have the identities of the assailants been confirmed?" Sengoku loosened his military collar.
Tsuru flipped open the folder, looking at the single-page document: "Bahr, 20 years old, born in a fishing village in East Blue. His parents died at sea years ago, and two months ago, his grandfather passed as well. Now he's the only one left, calling himself 'East Blue Yanzu' and traveling around chasing women."
She slid over a photo—inside, the young man had his arm around a blonde beauty, grinning brightly, even somewhat lecherously. There was no trace of someone capable of causing such havoc.
"Intel says he once pulled a long sword out of thin air on a ship and wiped out the Iron Anchor Pirates, who had a 15.5 million bounty, in a single slash. This time, dealing with the Celestial Dragon's guards was just as effortless."
Tsuru tapped the file with her pen. "Those guards were no weaklings."
"A Devil Fruit user?"
Sengoku immediately understood the situation. The rookie pirate aside, the Celestial Dragon's guards were indeed formidable—strong enough to dominate the first half of the Grand Line. Yet Bahr had handled them easily, proving his strength.
"Most likely a Space-type Devil Fruit user," Tsuru nodded, then suddenly set down her pen, expression turning grave. "The real issue is that this brat Bahr didn't just attack a Celestial Dragon—he kidnapped Shalria."
Sengoku's face darkened. With an incident this severe, the higher-ups would undoubtedly apply pressure. If mishandled, even his position as Fleet Admiral wouldn't save him.
After a moment of silence, Sengoku said, "Garp is in East Blue. Have him deal with this first."
Tsuru sighed softly. She knew all too well Garp's carefree nature—usually unreliable—but there was no better option now.
Deploying the Navy's hero at top speed would at least demonstrate their stance to the Celestial Dragons. It was a clear message to the higher-ups: Look, we've even sent the legendary Garp. Surely you can't accuse the Navy of negligence?