Arthur's lips curved into a faint, confident smile.
Around his body, twin currents of black and white Haki spiraled and intertwined—Lightning-Fused Haki, fully charged and ready.
Vice Admiral Burning Mountain (Fire Mountain) narrowed his eyes, muscles tensing. He responded in kind—Armament Haki, full release.
He made the first move.
"Shigan! (Finger Pistol!)"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
His left hand blurred, fingers stabbing at Arthur's vital points like bullets.
Arthur didn't even raise his arms. His hands stayed calmly crossed before his chest as his Observation Haki guided his movements—each stab narrowly missing by a hair's breadth.
He shook his head with mock pity.
"Too slow, Fire Mountain. Is that all you've got? Come on, faster—yes, faster!"
Fire Mountain's face turned pitch-black with rage. A proud Vice Admiral of the Navy… being toyed with like a rookie?!
Even the marines watching began to realize something was terribly wrong.
"Wait—why does it look like the Vice Admiral is the one getting toyed with?"
"No way… what kind of power gap is this?"
"This can't be real! He's toying with a Vice Admiral like it's nothing!"
"He doesn't even look twenty yet… what kind of monster is this kid?"
The thought sent a shiver through the ranks. If Arthur was this strong now, how terrifying would he be after a few more years?
A future Emperor of the Sea—that's what they were witnessing.
Just then, Arthur seemed to lose interest.
He raised a hand—catching Fire Mountain's attacking arm mid-strike.
A squeeze.
Crack!
The sickening sound of bones shattering rang out.
"Argh!" Fire Mountain howled, swinging his leg in desperation.
"Rankyaku! (Tempest Kick!)"
Boom!
Too late.
His leg was caught just as easily as his hand.
Panic surged through him; instinct took over.
"Kami-e! (Paper Art!)"
He tried to slip away with the Marine Six Styles' evasive technique—but Arthur wasn't interested in playing anymore.
"Strongest Spear—Pierce!"
This time, his attack was infused with Armament Haki—merciless and absolute.
"Tekkai! Steel! (Iron Body—Steel Form!)"
BANG!
Splatter.
Fire Mountain's words died in his throat. His ultimate defense—Armament Haki reinforced by the strongest form of Iron Body—crumbled under Arthur's finger like glass.
When the dust settled, Arthur calmly withdrew his arm. A gaping hole smoked in Fire Mountain's chest, crackling faintly with leftover lightning.
The Vice Admiral collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Silence fell.
Dozens of Marines stared, trembling, unable to speak. Some dropped to their knees, faces pale, lips shaking. They couldn't even comprehend what they'd seen.
"How… how can that be? A Vice Admiral—brought down in minutes?"
"This isn't possible! He's just a kid!"
"No… we underestimated him. He wasn't bluffing… he really is…"
"The strongest here!" someone shouted, voice breaking.
Arthur spread his hands, helplessly amused. "Told you so. You didn't believe me—now look."
The Marines swallowed hard, stumbling backward. Within moments, they'd cleared a hundred meters around him—none dared approach.
"Are you guys done yet?" Arthur called impatiently toward the ongoing battle nearby. "You're moving like amateurs. I'll say this once—my ship doesn't carry weaklings."
The six combatants paused mid-fight and turned to look.
And froze.
It had only been a few minutes—and Fire Mountain, a Vice Admiral of Marine Headquarters, lay on the ground, charred, broken, barely breathing.
Their eyes bulged.
What kind of monster finishes a Vice Admiral that fast?
For the Red Count, Waldo, and Crocodile, it wasn't too surprising—they'd already witnessed Arthur's overwhelming strength. But for the other Vice Admirals—Spider, Onigumo, and their peers—it was pure disbelief.
The kid stood unharmed. Fire Mountain, however, was scorched and silent, blood pooling beneath him.
That meant one thing—he'd been crushed. Instantly.
Even an Admiral would struggle to one-shot someone of Fire Mountain's caliber.
This "kid" was no kid at all. He was a devil in human skin.
That split second of shock was all Red Count and the others needed. Their attacks found openings.
Swoosh—!
A blade of crimson aura cleaved through the air. The worst hit was Spider, who'd already been on the defensive. Red Count's sword beam slammed into him—sending him sprawling, bleeding, unconscious.
He was lucky—had his Armament Haki been any weaker, that strike would've bisected him.
The other two Vice Admirals fared no better; both fell back wounded, unable to continue.
Across the battlefield—Marine and escapee alike—everyone stopped to stare.
One clash. Four Vice Admirals, down.
"Holy crap, these monsters are unbeatable!"
"Ha! Navy dogs—look at you now! Who's got the upper hand, huh?"
"Thunder God is insane!"
"Thunder God! Red Count! Crocodile! Waldo! You guys are legends!"
"Thunder God banzai!"
"Red Count banzai!"
"Crocodile banzai!"
"Waldo banzai!"
The scene split into two extremes—escapees cheering with feverish joy while Marines fell into despair.
But the uproar was cut short by two simultaneous voices—one booming, one lazy.
"Prisoners! Cease your rampage! Garp is here!"
"Yo~ looks like I'm a bit late, hmm?"
From beyond the iron gates of the prison, a Navy warship appeared—followed by a blinding golden beam streaking across the sky at near light speed.
The reinforcements had arrived.
The Navy's true power—its pillars of justice—had descended.
Monkey D. Garp — Hero of the Marines.
Borsalino, the Yellow Ape — Admiral of the Navy Headquarters.
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