Start of Book 3: Gods and Lions
Chapter 51
Saitama's warship left Alabasta, but the real chaos in the kingdom was just beginning.
As an allied nation of the World Government, the death of a million people in the capital was an unprecedented atrocity.
Every headline was blasting the story.
Shockwaves rippled across the world.
Those who knew the truth scrambled to warn Gens, the chief news bird, forcing him to suppress all future reports about Alabasta.
The Five Elders were fully briefed.
Because of the massacre and the weapons/abilities used by CP0 agent "Corpse Commander," they knew exactly what had happened.
They had told Corpse Commander to do whatever it took, but never expected him to recklessly kill a million, just to create a temporary army.
More terrifying, though—
Despite the million-strong battlefield, Saitama survived, while Corpse Commander died and left no corpse behind.
The 'Righteous Treasure'—Saitama—was truly something else.
If he could defeat a million at once, he was even more frightening than a Yonko or an Admiral.
...
World Government
Five Elder Secret Meeting
"So what now? Should we stop trying to kill him, invite him to join CP0 and work for us?"
"From current intelligence, he's not someone we can control. He clings to his 'Righteous Treasure' ideals and would instantly clash with the Tenryuubito..."
"We must continue trying to assassinate him."
"Saitama's battle capability is top-tier. If CP0 faces him directly, it's almost hopeless..."
"Send out a specialist with unique abilities then..."
"How about 'Scholar'?"
"His skills are excellent. Have the highest CP0 officer contact him."
"That bald man must be eliminated..."
...
West coast, Pulau Gaya—a small town.
A haven for pirates, bounty hunters, and criminals, far from the World Government's reach.
Bloodstained hands everywhere, but in this lawless zone, most evil men left the locals alone—they came to spend, not to rob.
Because nobody policed the area, its popularity among scoundrels and its thriving nightlife earned it the nickname 'Demon Valley.'
Its entertainment scene was infamous even on the Grand Line.
In one resort hotel:
A man with gold-rimmed glasses lounged in a beach chair, sunning himself.
Calm, gentle, at ease.
No one suspected he was CP0 senior agent—Scholar.
"Broubrou Brew..."
Suddenly, the Den Den Mushi on his wrist rang.
Annoyed, he answered, "Didn't we agree? Don't call me on leave. Work is work, but when I'm off, I don't want to be interrupted..."
"This is a direct order from the Five Elders."
The voice on the Den Den Mushi was monotone.
"Your personal arrangements are suspended."
"Fine, fine, I get it. Big boss comes running."
He quickly changed attitude. "What's the assignment?"
The caller spoke.
"Your mission: assassinate Marine Major General Saitama. I'll send his photo and location by telegram. Don't delay."
Scholar stopped. "A marine?"
"Do you object?"
"No… senior officer, your command. But if it's just a Major General, why send me? A regular agent should do. Corpse Commander was enough..."
"Corpse Commander was killed."
The monotone voice cut him off.
"Against one million troops, he fell. Saitama's rank is only Major General, but his power rivals an Admiral—be cautious, if you're found, no one can save you."
Admiral-level!?
Scholar broke out in a cold sweat.
He hadn't been assigned a target so dangerous in years.
Still, he could only reply, "Understood, sir."
He hung up, sighing. "Gotta finish this, you jerk."
He brushed himself off, mentally shifting from vacation to work mode.
He adjusted his glasses—instantly his whole demeanor changed.
Scholar went to his suitcase and dug out a facsimile machine, preparing to accept the photo and documents by fax.
But right then—
"Get lost, losers! Hahaha…"
A rowdy gang suddenly barged into the hotel.
Leading them was a scar-faced thug wearing flashy shades and big blond hair; beside him was a beefy man in sunglasses, and several provocatively dressed party girls.
They laughed and shouted,
"From now on, every room here is reserved for Captain Bellamy's show!"
The blond man strode forward, shouting,
"I give you five minutes. Anyone still here after that, we'll cut off their heads! Hahaha…"
His companion giggled,
"Hurry up! Sir Bellamy and Sir Sarkies aren't people you want to mess with!"
Guests here were hardly soft, but at the name Bellamy their faces stiffened.
Bellamy.
50 million bounty—seriously bad news.
Nobody wanted trouble—quickly, guests packed up and left.
All but one…
"Can you quiet down a little?"
Scholar never even looked up from the telegram, not even raising his head.
"People are different from animals. Animals take vacations shamelessly. But now I'm not happy…"