Gern watched Perospero's expression collapse completely—his composure shattered, his face twisted as if he were about to split apart on the spot and throw everything to the wind.
At last, as though he'd finally grown bored of the game, Gern let out a soft chuckle. With a flick of his wrist, the black blade Yahāng gave a crisp metallic hum and slid back into its sheath at his waist.
"Get up," Gern said casually, waving a hand as his tone returned to normal. "I never lied to you. I really did come to see your mother."
Perospero rose slowly, skepticism written all over his face. He brushed at his knees—though there wasn't a speck of sugar dust on them—before Gern continued.
"But… if you insist on a proper explanation…"
Gern deliberately drew out the last syllables, watching Perospero's ears perk up in spite of himself. Only then did he reveal the answer with a faint smile.
"It was your mother who 'invited' me."
"—!!!"
"There's no way Mama would invite you into her own territory…?!" The words burst out of Perospero before he could stop them.
Even as he spoke, his feet were already moving on instinct. Small, rapid, sideways steps—like a crab edging away—gradually increasing the distance between them.
Invite a Marine Admiral? And during a Tea Party, of all times?
No matter how whimsical Mama could be, she would never make a decision that reckless—never invite a wolf into her own den.
In the blink of an eye, Perospero had widened the gap between them to over fifty meters.
That distance granted him the faintest illusion of safety.
At least if Gern suddenly struck again, he might have a sliver of time to react… or to run.
Once he judged himself to be in a relatively "safe" position, Perospero stopped sharply. His candy cane staff spun in his hand with a sharp swish, the tip pointing directly at Gern as he tried to claw back some initiative, his voice sharp but hollow beneath the surface.
"Heaven-Shaker! Stop speaking in riddles and spouting nonsense fit for children!"
"Right now is the critical moment of Mama's grand Tea Party! Totto Land would never invite the Marines—especially not their highest combat power!"
"Even if you're mocking me… there should be limits!"
He drew in a deep breath, forcing his tone to sound firmer—borrowing the authority of a core officer of a Yonko crew, and bolstering his own courage as he raised his voice.
"And don't forget! This is Totto Land. The territory of the Big Mom Pirates! You've come alone into our domain. There are some things… you'd be wiser to handle with a bit more 'restraint.'"
"What do you mean… by 'restraint'?"
Gern's voice remained calm, yet it pierced straight through the bravado Perospero had carefully constructed.
Under Perospero's uncertain gaze, Gern reached unhurriedly into his coat and withdrew a beautifully crafted invitation card. Its edges were adorned with candy-shaped bows. He held it between two fingers, flipping it back and forth with casual ease.
The familiar design—
Perospero's pupils shrank violently.
Impossible. How could he actually have—
Before he could process the thought, Gern flicked his wrist and unfolded the invitation, turning its interior toward him.
Under the bright sunlight of Candy Island, the gilded lettering reflected a blinding glow.
Written there, in elegant embossed script—
[Gern Reginald Sigmar]
Clear. Dazzling. Undeniable.
"I… this…" Perospero's voice trembled. He couldn't even complete a sentence.
In that instant, realization struck.
Every Tea Party, under Mama's bizarre "all are welcome" rule—and for the sake of maintaining superficial diplomatic channels—they would customarily send this man an invitation.
But it had always been a formality.
A political gesture no one expected to be taken seriously.
He had never in his wildest dreams imagined that this calamity of a man would actually accept—and personally show up on Candy Island.
Gern watched Perospero's shaken expression and calmly folded the invitation, tucking it back into his coat.
"Perospero."
He lifted his eyes. His voice was not loud, yet each word rang clear, carrying a bone-deep chill.
"Even if I truly were mocking you, you'd have to endure it."
"Because when the Big Mom Pirates deal with weaker Marine patrol ships… when you plunder defenseless merchant vessels… you act no differently."
Perospero opened his mouth to argue—only to find that, before absolute strength and undeniable fact, any rebuttal would sound hollow.
Pirates and Marines. Plunder and justice.
That was the sea's true color.
"However…" Gern's tone shifted abruptly. The cold authority on his face vanished, replaced once more by that seemingly easygoing smile.
"Didn't you just remind me to be a little 'restrained'?"
He nodded thoughtfully, as if seriously considering the advice.
"So I've decided to listen to you. I'll… be more restrained."
"Re… restrained?" Perospero swallowed. His throat was dry. A profoundly ominous premonition crept up his spine.
Gern's version of "restraint" sounded a hundred times more terrifying than his earlier mockery.
"That's right." Gern's smile widened as his gaze traveled slowly over Perospero's stiffened body. His tone was light, almost cheerful.
"I've been thinking. It wouldn't be proper to visit that old lady for the first time empty-handed. I should bring a suitable 'gift.'"
His eyes finally settled on Perospero, whose body trembled ever so slightly from fear.
The smile deepened—thoughtful, deliberate… and chilling.
"After all…"
"The Candy Man is still 'candy,' isn't he?"
"—!!!"
Perospero's blood froze solid in that instant.
This bastard—
Was he planning to take him, the eldest son of Big Mom, the Minister of Candy… and present him as a "sweet gift" to Mama?!
"You bastard!!!"
Before the last syllable finished, Perospero's left hand shot sideways. Fingers clawed into the hardened candy wall of a nearby building, plunging deep into its surface.
The Paramecia power of the Lick-Lick Fruit activated at full force.
The entire wall—and nearly half the candy house—softened instantly, melting into thick, living syrup under his control.
He tore it free and reshaped it by sheer will.
The flowing syrup condensed, stretched, hardened in his grip. In the blink of an eye, it formed a massive amber-glossed candy bow.
Simultaneously, his right hand brushed the bowstring. Sugar generated from his body combined with his Devil Fruit ability, instantly producing over a dozen thick, arm-sized arrows with razor-sharp hardened candy tips.
A dark sheen flowed over their surfaces.
Armament Haki coated them completely.
"Candy Arrow Rain—"
Perospero drew the bowstring to its absolute limit.
"Banquet of Wailing!!!"
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—!
The hardened candy arrows did not fly straight. Instead, they shot skyward with shrieking force, tracing lethal arcs through the air. Upon reaching their apex, they rained down in a dense, overwhelming barrage over Gern's position.
The arrows sealed off every avenue of escape.
They would pin him to the candy ground like an insect.
Faced with a volley capable of turning an entire regiment into a sieve—
Gern didn't even blink.
He didn't draw his blade.
He merely raised his left hand, coated in dark crimson Armament Haki, and slowly clenched it into a fist.
The air around his knuckles began to distort unnaturally.
It trembled.
Countless fine vibration particles converged violently around his fist, emitting a deep, heart-pounding hum. Purple-black strands of Conqueror's Haki crackled along his knuckles like living lightning.
"I was planning to attend quietly…"
His eyes sharpened.
"But that's just not my style!!!"
His fist slammed forward into the empty air.
"Airquake!!!"
In an instant, the space at the point of impact fractured like shattered glass, erupting with spiderweb-like white cracks that splintered outward in every direction.
A hemispherical shockwave of catastrophic vibrations exploded forward and upward.
The descending candy arrow rain didn't even have time to explode—
It was annihilated the moment it touched the vibration wave.
Shattered.
Erased.
The shockwave surged onward without losing momentum, crashing violently into the layers of candy shields Perospero hastily erected before himself.
Crack!
The thick candy barriers shattered like paper, splintering layer after layer.
Perospero felt an irresistible force slam into his chest. His throat flooded with iron.
His body flew backward like a kite with its string cut.
"Pff—!"
He crashed dozens of meters away, blood spraying from his mouth. He tried to push himself up—
But it felt as though every bone in his body had come apart.
Just one punch.
Without even making direct contact.
His full-powered assault had been obliterated, and he himself rendered utterly incapable of resistance.
This wasn't a gap in strength.
It was an entire heaven's difference.
Gern slowly withdrew his fist.
Step by unhurried step, he approached the collapsed Perospero, looking down at him with cold eyes.
"Sorry."
He spoke calmly.
"This 'gift'… you're delivering it whether you like it or not."