The Mr. 4 duo was the first to be taken out of the entire battlefield.
Even the Mr. 5 duo, who had been attacked earlier, was still desperately resisting the thunderous spear strikes.
But that was to be expected.
Because information had become one-sidedly transparent.
The intelligence from the original story was just one piece of the puzzle — what mattered more was that before the landing, the Shikigami had already located nearly every Baroque Works operative on the island.
The Mr. 4 duo was just one among them.
Ren didn't know exactly who that team had been assigned to deal with, but he knew one thing — this was his chance.
That was why he had deliberately sent Nami and Nojiko after them.
It was the most effective matchup.
Once their assassination was complete, they would become new cards in his hand — a contingency to prevent unforeseen complications from derailing his plan.
As for Ren himself, he had also arrived at the port.
And not alone — Bonney, Vivi, and Igaram were with him.
Once freed from her restraints, Bonney stretched and exhaled in relief, casually positioning herself protectively in front of Vivi and Igaram.
The latter two, however, both wore expressions of utter disbelief, their minds still reeling in shock.
After all —
Before the battle began, Vivi and Igaram had both heard Ren's so-called "plan," which could only be described as the ravings of a madman.
Igaram had thought they'd been tricked.
Vivi suspected something in Ren's head had finally snapped.
But regardless of what they thought, they had no power to resist.
Because Bonney was under orders to ensure their safety.
That was Ren's command.
As they advanced, Bonney couldn't hold back her question.
"So, we're going to take out those officers?"
"Strictly speaking," Ren replied, "only I am."
He stepped into an alley plastered with colorful graffiti — and with a single glance, he could identify each of the painted patterns.
Black of Betrayal — those who touched the black paint would feel an irresistible urge to defy and contradict their comrades, no matter how important they were.
Yellow of Laughter — those who touched the yellow paint would fall into uncontrollable hysterics.
Red of Rage — those who touched the red paint would go berserk, attacking only the red bullseyes painted by Miss Goldenweek herself.
Blue of Sorrow — those who touched the blue paint would be consumed by overwhelming grief.
And there were mixed colors too — patterns that produced unique, unpredictable effects unlike the rest.
They looked ordinary.
But in Miss Goldenweek's hands, these painted sigils were as deadly and bizarre as any Devil Fruit power.
The moment she drew them, they came alive with power.
And apparently, they were waterproof.
Even though the surrounding houses blocked most of the sea breeze and rain from the port, some water still trickled down the streets — yet the painted marks didn't wash away in the slightest.
"Stop here."
Without turning back, Ren gave the order. Bonney halted with Vivi and Igaram at the edge of the graffiti-filled street.
The battle ahead was not theirs to join.It was the captain's stage alone.
The Shikigami had gone off to locate a crucial target.
But that didn't matter — Ren still had a second one. Through their shared vision, he had already found the perfect stage for himself.
The rest was his performance.
In the time leading up to this, Ren had continually refined himself — his Thunder Breathing, his sword forms, his mastery of Qi — all had advanced significantly.
He could now sense the life energy within his range of Qi perception.
It wasn't far — in fact, very close. Just as he had "seen."
Tap, tap.
A figure appeared around the corner, hands in his pockets.
The most striking feature was the number-three-shaped topknot on his head. The man himself was unremarkable — average build, glasses, thick lips, and a purple-red bow tie.
One glance was enough to recognize him: Mr. 3 — Galdino.
"I detest brainless crimes," Galdino said, approaching slowly, "but if the choice is between 'teaming up' against a nobody like you or finishing you myself, I'd rather use violence."
As he spoke, his hands slid from his pockets, transforming into flowing streams of white liquid.
"You probably can't comprehend the gap between us," he continued coldly. "But that's fine — I'll end this quickly."
"…Are you talking to me?"
Ren tilted his head slightly and drew his cursed blade from thin air.
"A Devil Fruit user?" Galdino's eyes narrowed. "Your bounty really is exaggerated. But that's not the reason she chose to send me.
"She'd rather trust Mr. 1's brute strength than my intellect."
His eyes burned with anger. "I'm a Devil Fruit user too — the Paramecia-type Wax-Wax Fruit.
"See this wax on my hands? Once it hardens, it becomes as tough as steel.
"No matter what tricks you have, I'll defeat you instantly — and then I'll tell that woman she was wrong!"
"How meaningless," Ren remarked flatly.
"To someone who doesn't even understand what kind of being he's provoked, I suppose it would seem meaningless."
Galdino's white wax flowed across the ground, spreading fast.
He glanced toward the silent alley beside them and smirked disdainfully.
"You've just angered Baroque Works! And I'm the senior agent assigned to eliminate you.
"Of course, mystery is our core principle — even telling you this much is my final act of mercy."
"If you're referring to identity and origin," Ren said calmly, "then I already know.
"Mr. 3 — Galdino, from the South Blue. Favorite drink: Earl Grey tea.
"Your partner is an interesting girl who paints curious, powerful images.
"Her name is Marianne — she likes rice crackers and green tea.
"The reason you two were paired is because she colors your wax armor."
Ren's lips curved faintly. "Am I wrong?"
"...!"
In the alley, a pair of fingers-for-eyes widened in shock. The owner instinctively turned to the man beside him — Bon Clay.
"Don't look at me, darling. I've no idea," Bon Clay said, shaking his head and pointing to the opposite alley. "But you might want to check her expression."
Across the way, Marianne froze mid-stroke, clutching her paintbrush and palette.
Shock, astonishment, disbelief — her face cycled through them all before settling into wary confusion.
Even Galdino, poised to attack, hesitated.
Baroque Works prided itself on secrecy — few had ever even seen their true leader.
They'd only met the woman who acted as the boss's proxy: Miss All Sunday.
But even she shouldn't know them this intimately.
Unless… someone had been watching Galdino and Marianne closely — but that was impossible.
They were the hidden hand of a clandestine crime syndicate!
"Surprised?" Ren asked lightly. "So am I."
He stepped forward slowly, his Killing Intent — his Fiend God Aura — unfurling without restraint. The icy, blade-like pressure made every agent's pupils constrict.
His voice was low, resonant — laced with confusion and irritation.
"Why is it that, upon my return, I wasn't greeted by Miss All Sunday — but ambushed by my own Baroque Works agents instead?
"You, Galdino… Marianne… Bon Clay hiding in the shadows… and Paula — oh wait, I should call you Zala.
"Except for Daz Bonez, nearly every senior agent I know has turned their blades on me.
"Yet I am your boss.
"I truly can't fathom what Robin is thinking."
"Wait—what the hell are you talking about?!"
Galdino snapped, his skin crawling beneath the weight of that killing aura.
But what unsettled him even more were the words themselves — they slithered into his ears like venomous serpents.
"Talking nonsense?"
Ren sneered, his crimson eyes locking onto Galdino. "Maybe. But that's what comes of the 'mystery' you all cling to — layers of secrecy that let Miss All Sunday twist your loyalties.
"I gave her a chance — a chance to survive the World Government's pursuit.
"But she still chose betrayal, just like she always has for over a decade.
"So damn troublesome… Looks like I'll need to re-educate her."
Tap, tap.
Footsteps echoed again. The woman whose true name had been revealed — Zala — stepped out at last, eyes narrowing as she studied the seemingly young man before her.
"So you're saying… you're our boss? That's absurd. Maybe you'd care to explain?"
"I agree it sounds absurd," Ren admitted mildly. "But it doesn't matter."
He didn't move to meet her gaze — his attention remained on Galdino.
"I'll give you one minute," he said coldly. "Finish painting your so-called 'Candle Champion.'
"This is your final chance. Fail, and deal with the consequences yourself."
A twitch ran across Galdino's face. Under normal circumstances, anyone who dared threaten him like this would already be encased in wax.
But the killing intent rolling off this man — combined with the depth of knowledge he'd revealed — shattered Galdino's confidence.
An East Blue pirate crew… a man whose sphere of activity wasn't even in Alabasta…
How could he possibly know so much about them?
Unable to decide, Galdino did the only rational thing — he backed off slightly, signaling the others with a subtle motion of his wax-coated fingers.
Let Bon Clay handle this supposed "boss," if that's what he really was.
But before he could act further, the conversation took another unexpected turn.
"What do you mean by that?" Zala frowned.
"It's simple," Ren said. "I don't know why Miss All Sunday decided to rebel, or what orders she gave you.
"But Baroque Works' structural flaws are my responsibility.
"I won't shift the blame — I'll confront her myself and find out.
"But before that…"
A grin crept onto his lips — sharp, almost feral.
"I'll give you all a chance to redeem yourselves. You know what happens to those who fail.
"Since you were deceived by Miss All Sunday, I'll go easy on you — as much as I can.
"But if you're too weak to survive that mercy… don't blame me for your deaths.
"I already understand the kind of people you senior agents are. Words are pointless.
"All I want is for you to realize your mistake — before I break every bone in your body."
Arrogant. Insane.
That was the unanimous thought among every senior agent present.
Even Galdino, halfway through shaping his wax champion, froze mid-gesture — because the man before them wasn't merely arrogant.
Zala's eyes flickered as realization dawned.
It wasn't arrogance at all.
It was utter contempt.
(End of Chapter)