As the warden of Impel Down, Galil's power rivaled that of a Marine Admiral — so, naturally, the World Government hadn't treated him poorly.
They had granted him an exceptionally terrifying Devil Fruit.
It was called the Weak-Weak Fruit — a Paramecia-type that allowed Galil to emit rays of decaying energy.
Any living thing struck by that weakening light would rapidly wither, aging as though all its vitality were being drained away, until it was reduced to a dried husk.
This horrifying ability was precisely why Hannibal feared him so much.
"Brat," Galil growled, his purple eyes flashing, "if you kneel now and beg for mercy, you might live. Otherwise, you'll end up just like them."
He pointed toward a pack of military wolves lurking in the shadows, waiting to scavenge for food.
Then, from his outstretched palm, a pulse of purple-black light rippled out.
When the rays struck the wolves, their bodies instantly began to change.
Their fur dulled, their muscles shrank, their bright eyes sank into dry sockets —
and within seconds, the creatures had shriveled into mummified corpses.
Brian watched the sight with detached curiosity.
"Not bad," he murmured. "Looks flashy enough to scare people, at least."
"What did you just say?!" Galil roared. "You think I'm scaring you, boy?"
"Don't get cocky, you insolent little brat!"
He thrust out his hand — and the purple-black rays surged toward Brian.
But Brian vanished in a blur.
Shave.
"Where—?"
Galil spun around, eyes darting left, right, behind, above.
He stretched his senses through Observation Haki, trying to pinpoint Brian's movements — but Brian was too fast.
His afterimages danced in every direction, surrounding Galil in a dizzying circle of motion.
"Trying to dodge my ray with speed? Foolish child," Galil sneered. "You can't escape death by running!"
"Now—wither away in weakness!"
He raised both arms high. A sphere of violet light pulsed outward, erupting in every direction.
The Weakening Rays burst across the entire frozen plain — a dome of death with no blind spots.
There was nowhere to run. The polished, icy floor reflected the deadly glow in every direction.
The first to be caught were the unlucky guards who'd just arrived.
The moment the light touched them, their skin shriveled, moisture evaporating from their bodies in an instant.
They collapsed, dry and brittle as twigs, their faces frozen in silent screams — dead before they hit the ground.
Even the trees that managed to survive in this frigid hell — creatures of unimaginable endurance — were not spared.
Under the violet rays, they withered visibly, their trunks turning gray and cracking apart with a brittle snap.
As for Magellan and the others, they had already seen Galil unleash this power before.
The instant they saw the light begin to spread, they dove for cover — avoiding the rays entirely.
"Stupid brat," Galil snorted coldly. "That's the price of angering me."
He turned to survey the carnage — the corpses littering the ice — and snorted again in disdain.
In this environment, there was nowhere for Brian to hide.
No walls, no cover, no hope. Once touched by the Weakening Light, death was inevitable.
He started to lower his arm—
—when suddenly, a faint crack split the silence.
Crack... crack...
It came from behind him. The ice was splitting.
"What—? That sound…?" Galil's eyes widened. "Don't tell me that brat's still alive!"
His pupils contracted in shock as he spun around, raising his arm again.
He poured all his power into his palm, purple-black light gathering until the air itself hummed and warped.
"This time," he snarled, "I'll erase you completely!"
Mm.
The moment Galil turned, a blizzard of ice shards exploded toward him.
"What the—?!"
The storm of shattered ice perfectly intercepted the purple-black rays of his weakening light, scattering them harmlessly into the air.
"Shave—Quadruple Image!"
Brian's figure split into four afterimages—north, south, east, and west—his movement blurring faster than the eye could follow.
"Tempest Kick: Doomsday Storm!"
From all four directions, slicing wind-blades converged. The ice field shattered, waves of frozen shards sweeping up into a raging spiral, wrapping Galil in a storm of ice and air.
"You cunning brat!" Galil snarled from within the blizzard. "Did you think a cheap trick like that would save you from death?"
He leapt high into the air, his upraised palm glowing with that dreadful, purple-black energy.
"Death Ray!"
The beam flared out—
a black sun blooming in the frozen hell, its light devouring everything it touched.
"It's over," Shiryu muttered, already turning away. He knew too well how horrifying Galil's Death Ray was—anything struck by it turned into a mummified corpse in an instant.
"Ah—!"
A scream tore through the icy cavern.
But—
it wasn't Brian's voice.
It was Galil's.
Shiryu froze, then spun around—just in time to see Brian's hand-blade slice clean through Galil's left arm.
Before the demonkin warden could even react, Brian's other arm swung back in a smooth, fluid arc—cutting off the right.
And then, with terrifying calm, Brian stopped, his hand poised lightly against Galil's throat.
Blood steamed in the cold air. The ground glimmered with shattered frost.
The scene was brutal—
yet the precision, the grace of Brian's movement—
was mesmerizing.
Brian lifted his head, meeting Shiryu's gaze, and smiled.
"Elegant movements," he said softly. "That's what turns killing into an art, Shiryu. Don't you agree?"
Shiryu said nothing. His eyes flickered with shock—and, faintly, interest.
"What… what just happened?" Magellan muttered, his face pale.
Why hadn't the Death Ray affected Brian?
He had assumed the fight was over—so he hadn't seen the final exchange. Yet now, everything had been turned on its head.
Even Armament Haki couldn't block that cursed light. It shouldn't have been possible.
Brian smiled faintly at their confusion. "Because," he said, "I used this."
He tapped his boot against the ground, and a piece of ice flipped up.
Its surface was perfectly smooth—polished like a mirror, reflecting his face with crystal clarity.
"Light can be reflected," Brian said lazily. "And you chose to fight me here—surrounded by ice. Honestly, that's stupidity beyond salvation."
He stepped forward and pressed his boot down on Galil's chest.
He didn't bother finishing him.
Killing Galil would cause endless trouble—the man was the warden of Impel Down, his rank just below an admiral.
And besides, he was already done for.
With both arms severed and the freezing air seeping into his body, his organs would soon fail.
Even if he were saved, he'd live out the rest of his days as a cripple.
"You didn't just throw up that storm to block the light," Magellan realized aloud, his voice faint. "You used it to create these mirrored ice surfaces…"
Both Magellan and Shiryu were stunned.
In a life-or-death moment, Brian had remained that calm—
thinking, planning, countering.
It was terrifying.
"Impressive, right?" Brian said, smiling as he looked at them. "Come on, why not join me? You'll eat well, drink better, gamble, visit brothels—whatever you want. Hey, don't walk away—name your perks!"
Galil lay on the ice, barely conscious.
And as Shiryu and Magellan turned wordlessly to leave, both men shared the same thought—
Galil really lost in the most ridiculous way possible.
(To be Continued)
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