Whiteflame clapped his hand and a huge biscuit formed beneath the three women's feet. He rose, floating with them, and headed for the sky-island.
When they landed, the whole island was empty of living things.
Through the shattered gate they could see bones scattered among pools of fresh blood—Shiki's recruited crew had all become fodder, their life energy siphoned to feed Whiteflame's IBM.
"I don't like this building," Whiteflame said flatly, waving a hand.
Rumble—
The entire structure built atop the island uprooted and rocketed skyward, then, as if drained of strength, plummeted straight into the sea.
"Ah! Now everything's gone—where are we supposed to sleep tonight?" Baby-5 pouted, crestfallen.
"Don't you like shopping?" Whiteflame replied indifferently. "The Nine Dragons is ruined, and the stuff you bought on the Gild Tesoro is gone too, though Gild Tesoro's money remains. Take that."
He raised his hand and seawater surged up, sweeping over to them in a wave. Wrapped inside were a dozen large chests—loot taken from Gild Tesoro.
"Yay! Awesome! I knew Whiteflame would take care of me!" Baby-5 squealed and planted a big, grateful kiss on his cheek.
With Shiki gone, the sky-pirate Shiki had been erased from the world. In his place, Whiteflame would take the helm of this new Nine Dragons and rule the skies.
Chapter 85 — Prey and Pursuer
Marineford, Headquarters.
"Brrr-brrr…" The Den Den Mushi chattered. Fleet Admiral Sengoku put down the documents he'd been handling and picked up the receiver.
"Marshal Sengoku, there's bad news!" came an urgent voice from the other end.
"What is it?" Sengoku's hand paused. "A cannibal monster problem?"
The words "bad news" made him recall his deepest worries, but the report that followed shocked him even more.
"No… it's Shiki."
"Shiki… he's been killed!"
"What?!"
Sengoku's pupils constricted; disbelief and alarm crossed his face. Shiki—the legendary force of Roger's era who once made even the Marines wary—had been slain?
As someone who'd crossed swords with Shiki countless times, Sengoku knew better than most just how dangerous and cunning that man had been.
He took a deep breath and forced himself calm.
"Are you sure? Tell me everything."
"We're certain. A month ago you ordered us to monitor Shiki, so we infiltrated his ship under the pretense of joining him to keep tabs on his movements. Today, that informant suddenly sent word: Shiki is dead."
"When we tried to reach him to confirm, the signal cut off. I realized it might be true—Shiki encountered someone far stronger. Not only did he die, but all his crew were wiped out as well."
"What do we do, Fleet Admiral?" The voice sounded frantic; everyone realized what this implied.
Someone strong enough to kill Shiki could be a Yonko-level threat. The world would tremble if such a power emerged.
"This year just keeps getting worse," Sengoku muttered.
Doflamingo, Gild Tesoro, Jack of the Beasts, Charlotte Cracker… now Shiki. The list of major figures falling this year was greater than many years combined. Sengoku thought deeply: who could possibly have the power to kill Shiki? Aside from the sea emperors, there were very few candidates.
"Could it be that guy again?" he whispered to himself, immediately embarrassed by the thought.
Somehow Whiteflame had become a thorn in Sengoku's mind: whenever a major event occurred, a part of him feared Whiteflame might be involved.
"No—must be my imagination," he told himself. "Even if Whiteflame killed Jack or Charlotte Cracker, Shiki could at least escape with his power. Impel Down couldn't hold Shiki long. A rookie taking down Shiki? Impossible."
"Any other clues?" Sengoku asked.
"There is one. We searched the spot where the signal vanished and found wreckage of a pirate ship. Among the debris was a torn Jolly Roger—an interesting design: nine dragons."
Sengoku inhaled sharply.
"What flag?" he demanded.
"The Jolly Roger was ripped, but the emblem—nine dragons—was clear."
"Understood. Seal everything. No leaks. If there's any further information about Shiki, report directly to me immediately."
"Yes, sir."
Sengoku hung up and sat staring at the portrait in his drawer—the picture of a young man: Whiteflame. A face no older than sixteen or seventeen, eyes cold and unfathomable.
"So it really was him…"
"A monster. He's a monster," Sengoku whispered in disbelief. A man who could kill a Yonko's commander and now Shiki—Sengoku could not accept that such power rested in someone who looked like a teenager.
"If he can kill Shiki, even Kizaru would struggle," Sengoku concluded. "Call Kizaru back. Cancel his current assignments."
Sengoku knew the situation had far exceeded the Marines' control. A future sea emperor might just be born.
Elsewhere, over a town in Paradise, the floating island drifted down and three men and a woman descended from it like gods in the stunned eyes of townsfolk.
"Let's go shopping. Buy whatever you want—money's just paper," Whiteflame said casually.
Gild Tesoro's gold was so vast it couldn't fit on a single ship; but paper money was easier. Tens of chests of banknotes—Gild Tesoro's five hundred billion Beli—were now Whiteflame's to spend.
"Yesss—shopping time! I'm buying everything!" Baby-5's shopaholic soul ignited; she and Rebecca and Monet dashed into the marketplace without a second thought.
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