It had to be admitted, Lancelot thought as his Haki-infused blade met unyielding steel, that Mr. 1, Daz Bonez, this formidable foe, truly possessed strength that could not be underestimated.
After all, in the first half of the Grand Line, individuals with such exceptional Devil Fruit mastery and fierce offensive capabilities were as rare as phoenix feathers.
Yet, in the face of his oncoming opponent, Lancelot remained exceptionally calm and composed, radiating an aura of absolute control.
His originally relaxed and drooping right hand suddenly clenched into a fist.
Moving with lightning speed and carrying the thunderous force of his enhanced physique, he struck directly toward Mr. 1's impassive face.
"Heh heh..."
Seeing this seemingly reckless move, Mr. 1 showed not the slightest hint of panic.
Instead, the corners of his mouth curled upward into a sinister and terrifying grin.
In his eyes, Lancelot's action was nothing but overestimating his abilities—sheer foolishness.
After all, his entire body had long been transformed into razor-sharp blades through the power of his Dice-Dice Fruit.
How could mere flesh and blood possibly hope to contend with hardened steel?
Thus, when he saw Lancelot attempting to confront him with a simple fist, Mr. 1 inwardly sneered, convinced that his opponent had just made the most foolish, suicidal decision.
Without hesitation, he swiftly transformed the fingers of his left hand into sharp blades, clenching his palm into a fierce tiger-claw shape, and reached out with blinding speed to grab Lancelot's incoming fist, intending to shred it upon impact.
In an instant, the howling fist and the flashing steel claw closed the distance between them rapidly.
Just as the fist and claw were about to collide violently, at the most critical moment, Lancelot uttered a soft, almost casual cry.
"Busoshoku Haki!"
With that cry, a mysterious and powerful, invisible force surged abruptly from within him, instantly Entangling and enveloping his entire fist in a shimmering black aura of hardened willpower.
Immediately after, a deafening roar erupted.
BOOM!
Two immense forces collided head-on, like two meteors violently crashing. Lancelot's Haki-imbued fist met Mr. 1's steel claws, unleashing a ferocious shockwave that rippled outwards, cracking the ground beneath them and sending gusts of wind sweeping through Whiskey Peak.
Under the overwhelming, Haki-amplified impact, Mr. 1—the man made of steel—was sent flying backward like a kite with its string cut.
He crashed heavily onto the distant ground, skipping across the stone like a thrown rock before finally coming to a stop, kicking up a large cloud of dust.
"This... This can't be!" Mr. 1 exclaimed in shock, staggering to his feet, his blade-hand actually dented and numb from the impossible force.
His face was full of disbelief.
He looked down at his damaged hand, then back at Lancelot's unharmed fist.
He straightened his expression, forcing down his shock.
"Haki... So you possess Haki. Even so," he snarled, "you can't defeat me. My ability is the bane of all swordsmen and martial artists. Because no one can break through my ultimate defense!"
"Is that so?" Lancelot sneered coldly, his patience wearing thin. "Then try this move." He raised the cursed blade, Sandai Kitetsu, its dark aura swirling.
"Demonic Sword: Asura Purgatory Demon Slash!"
The next moment, an eeri green Ghost seemed to flare within Lancelot's eyes, a manifestation of the cursed sword's spirit.
Simultaneously, a thick, potent layer of Armament Haki Entanglement wrapped around the Sandai Kitetsu, making the black blade gleam with an even deeper, more menacing light.
Then, a powerful, almost tangible Sword Intent gathered behind Lancelot, momentarily transforming into a terrifying illusion—a hellish landscape, a Human Purgatory filled with tormented souls.
And Lancelot himself seemed like a Bloodthirsty Demon King emerging from this very Purgatory, his presence utterly overwhelming.
"Whoosh..."
Lancelot pushed off with his legs, activating Soru and entering a state of high-speed movement.
To onlookers, it seemed like he had simply disappeared in that instant.
When he reappeared, he was already directly in front of Mr. 1, swinging the Haki-clad, demon-infused blade in a devastating downward arc.
"Slash..."
SHIIIIINNNK!
Mr. 1's blade-transformed body, his ultimate steel defense, was cut open.
A horrifying wound, spanning diagonally across his entire chest, appeared, blood spraying out wildly where only sparks should have flown.
"How... How is this possible? How can this be!!!" Mr. 1's eyes were filled with shock and disbelief.
After all, since obtaining his Devil Fruit ability, since becoming a living weapon of steel, he had never been truly injured by a blade.
That's right.
Never been injured, not even a scratch.
Blades shattered against him. Bullets flattened.
But unexpectedly, today, his perfect defense was broken by this Marine before him.
And the price... was likely his life.
Lancelot, truth be told, had briefly considered trying to recruit someone like Mr. 1.
His loyalty and power were undeniable.
But he knew this guy was extremely, almost fanatically, loyal to Crocodile.
So, in that case... he wouldn't hold back.
Lancelot watched impassively as the light faded from Mr. 1's eyes and the strongest agent of Baroque Works collapsed, dead.
Then, he turned to look at the other ongoing battles.
Mr. 2, Mr. 3, and the injured Mr. 5 had also been decisively defeated by the combined might of Gin, Zoro, and Lina.
The final tally: Mr. 1, Miss Doublefinger, Mr. 4, Miss Merry Christmas, Mr. 11, and a bunch of lower-ranked agents were dead.
Mr. 2, Mr. 3, Mr. 5, and Ms. Valentine were severely injured and captured.
The knocked-out Miss Goldenweek, Princess Vivi, and her loyal retainer Igaram remained unconscious.
Then came the frantic, thorough looting.
From the entire town of Whiskey Peak—confiscating the bounty hunters' ill-gotten gains—and stripping the captured Baroque Works officer agents' hidden stashes, they looted over 400 million Berries in total.
Combined with the 400 million acquired from Arlong and Nezumi, Lancelot's war chest now stood at 800 million Berries.
Still 2.2 billion short of the three billion demanded by the Celestial Dragons.
Lancelot, despite the remaining deficit, was in a very pleasant mood.
He looked at the captured Mr. 2, Mr. 3, Mr. 5, and Ms. Valentine.
He didn't try to recruit them immediately; they were still loyal Officer Agents.
Instead, he had them locked securely in two makeshift prisons modified within the Going Merry's hold.
Of course, all the captured Devil Fruit users were fitted with Seastone handcuffs, nullifying their powers.
After resting on the now subdued and thoroughly plundered island for one day, Lancelot set out again with his people, leaving behind a small garrison of his Marines under a newly promoted Sergeant to 'manage' Whiskey Peak.
....
On the Alabasta Kingdom side, Crocodile and Robin, back in their secret Rainbase headquarters, had already learned through their network that Mr. 1 and the entire dispatched team had been completely wiped out.
Defeated. Captured or killed.
Their expressions were extremely grim.
"Bastard..."
In a sudden explosion of rage, Crocodile slammed his golden hook down, smashing the heavy stone table in front of him to absolute pieces.
Sand swirled around the room.
Robin, however, stood thoughtfully to the side, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips.
The look in her eyes as she glanced at the furious Crocodile became somewhat different—meaningful, calculating, and somewhat gloating.
'Those three Vice Admirals back in the Holy Land,' Robin thought to herself, 'seem to have played us beautifully. They used us to test Lancelot's strength, and now Baroque Works has paid the price.'
She couldn't quite suppress the corner of her mouth from curling upward.
Seeing her expression, Crocodile grew even angrier, but he didn't speak.
He still needed Robin; her knowledge of the Poneglyphs was crucial.
But if he didn't vent this simmering rage somehow, it would be too suffocating.
He might as well not call himself Crocodile anymore, let alone one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
At the same time, he understood, with cold fury, that the three Vice Admirals in the Holy Land had likely done this deliberately.
Their goal was simple: weaken him, make him lose face, and force him to take a significant loss.
This way, he would have no choice but to personally deal with Lancelot to recover his agents and his reputation.
However, this loss was far, far too heavy.
It had effectively destroyed the upper echelon of Baroque Works, the organization he had painstakingly built over years.
As for the others, the lower agents... if they died, they died.
He could always recruit more fodder.
But Mr. 1 and Mr. 2... they were absolutely crucial!
One was his most valued subordinate, his true confidant, his shield.
The other possessed a unique, irreplaceable ability and was an indispensable key figure for his grander plans in Alabasta.
He absolutely could not afford to lose them.
Crocodile took several deep breaths, forcing down his rage. He stood up, his gaze cold and calculating.
"Daring to scheme against me... Unless those three bastard Vice Admirals never leave the Holy Land for the rest of their lives, I'll make sure they die horribly."
As he said this, he unconsciously clenched his fists, sand trickling between his fingers.
He then turned to Robin, his voice dangerously low.
"Find out everything about the underlings, the agents, the spies working for those three—Gallard, Bogu, and Uzzi. I want their exact locations. All of them."
Hearing this, Robin's lips curled into a slight, genuine smile.
'Ah,' she thought to herself, 'since he can't touch the main players in Mariejois, he's taking it out on the small fries? But... those three thrive in the Holy Land largely thanks to the networks and resources provided by their underlings. If they're all wiped out... it'll probably hurt them quite badly indeed. Then again, neither side is any good—it's just dogs biting dogs.'
She was more than happy to watch it happen.
She nodded gracefully.
"Alright, Mr. 0. I'll handle it right away. But…" She then changed the subject, her expression turning thoughtful.
"What about Lancelot? He now holds the others captive. And he's still sailing towards the Holy Land with his... 'three billion Berries'."