Four Marine Warships slowly advanced toward the north shore, closing in on the ship where Ghost Hand Rowan was stationed.
The Navy officers aboard each ship wore solemn expressions, hands resting on swords, daggers, and rifle triggers. Their target was the infamous Ghost Hand Rowan, the pirate who had thrown the West Blue into chaos. Even under the command of a Headquarters Rear Admiral, caution was essential.
"Report, Colonel! The enemy ship is about to enter firing range. Shall we prepare to fire?"
On one of the vessels, the artillery major leaned forward, addressing a Colonel.
The Colonel's gaze remained fixed on Rowan's ship in the distance. "Hold. No orders from the flagship yet. Wait a moment longer."
"Colonel…"
The major hesitated, then said, "With all due respect… Ghost Hand Rowan is ruthless. Everyone who has seen him calls him a devil incarnate. Perhaps we should avoid close combat and just sink his ship with a full broadside."
The Colonel snorted. "Do you think you can give orders above your rank? Besides, Rowan himself may not even be aboard."
He raised his chin toward the main flagship. "With Rear Admiral Ghost Spider commanding, even a devil like him will answer to Justice."
At that moment, orders from Ghost Spider arrived.
"All artillery, prepare! Aim at the enemy ship! Fire when ready!"
The Marines on the five Warships moved in unison. Cannonballs were loaded, aimed, and ready to reduce Rowan's pirate ship to splinters.
Yet just as the Warships neared firing range, a figure suddenly leapt from Rowan's ship, landing on the sea and sprinting across its surface.
"Is that… a man?"
"It's Ghost Hand Rowan! He's actually running on the water!"
Shock rippled across the Warships' decks. Marines blinked in disbelief as Rowan's figure surged across the waves.
"Do not let him reach the ships!"
"Target him! Fire!"
The cannon fire erupted. Boom! Boom! Boom!
A storm of iron cannonballs struck the water where Rowan ran. Waves erupted, splashes soaredyet Rowan continued unharmed, his clothes dry, his movements unhindered.
Ghost Spider exhaled smoke, his eyes narrowing. "He actually charged across the sea… Even I wouldn't dare attempt that."
But within moments, the mockery vanished. Rowan's figure remained unscathed. Not a single drop of water splashed beneath him; it was as though he had no weight.
"This… cannot be real."
Ghost Spider's frown deepened. He realized too late: the figure on the water was an illusion, a perfect projection created by Rowan.
The real Rowan was already approaching a smaller Warship. With a single leap, he landed on its deck.
The wooden planks groaned under an invisible force as Warp Power radiated from him. The ship's middle twisted like soft clay, creaking and buckling.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Marines fired their rifles, but bullets curved or froze in midair as Rowan's hands manipulated the surrounding void. The small Warship, dozens of meters long, folded in on itself as if gripped by an invisible giant, collapsing into splintered wood.
"Damn it!" Ghost Spider cursed, his cigarette long destroyed by his teeth, eyes locked on the destroyed vessel.
Rowan leapt from the wreckage and advanced toward the second Warship.
"Fire! Fire!"
Cannons unleashed another storm of iron, yet the blast passed harmlessly through Rowan's figureagain, the illusion masking his true body.
He pressed one hand against the ship's cabin wall. Warp Power surged. The cabin twisted, spiraled, and contorted, the deck groaning as if the ship itself were molten.
"Stop him!"
A Navy Colonel drew his sword, the blade humming faintly with Sword Haki, and charged Rowan. He slashed downward, aiming to cut the pirate in two.
Rowan didn't flinch. He extended his other hand into the void. The descending sword strike froze, caught between his fingers as if trapped by invisible chains.
"Fragile swordsmanship," Rowan muttered.
The Colonel's strike, though imbued with Haki and comparable to what a Marine Colonel of high skill could produce, was effortlessly neutralized. Rowan's mastery of Observation and Armament Haki, combined with his Void Manipulation, allowed him to control the battlefield with uncanny precision.