[send power stones please]
Seeing the terror frozen on Moro's face, Saint Charlos strolled over — slow, deliberate, chin tilted skyward.
"Afraid… of just one man?"
"What worthless trash."
"No wonder my cousin got killed under Marine protection."
Ptui.
He spat — again — right into the vice admiral's face.
Mockery. Contempt. Total dehumanization.
The younger Marines' faces flushed with fury.
But the veterans beside them tightened their grip, silently warning them to stay still.
The bubble-helmeted monster in front of them was a Celestial Dragons noble.
And their duty… was to protect nobles like him.
Moro trembled, caught between two nightmares:
The Celestial Dragon.
Romu.
Either one could end him.
For a fleeting moment, rebellion sparked in his chest.
Then he glanced at Charlos' grotesque face…
and the crimson hoof emblem flapping on the mast.
His courage died.
Head lowered. Fists clenched. Poster crumpled in his grip.
Charlos noticed.
A twisted smile spread across his face.
He snapped his neck — a thick string of mucus splattered across Moro's white justice cloak, staining the word Justice.
He beckoned lazily.
Three figures appeared beside him.
No footsteps. No sound.
Just… there.
White suits. Black ties. Masked faces.
An aura of quiet execution.
Moro's pupils shrank.
"CP0…?!"
Yes.
Cipher Pol Aigis Zero — the Celestial Dragons' personal strike force.
Their captain was rumored to rival admirals.
Even regular agents operated at rear-admiral or vice-admiral level.
They were called:
The Celestial Dragons' Ultimate Shield.
The world's strongest intelligence agency.
The three masked agents turned their gaze on Moro.
Cold. Absolute.
"Filthy insect."
"You dared oppose divine will."
They moved.
A gust of compressed air tore through the deck.
Moro's body jerked.
His eyes bulged.
A perfect cylindrical hole appeared through his abdomen.
Blood exploded from his mouth.
"Why…?"
He never finished.
His body hit the deck with a dull thud.
Silence.
Then dread.
The Marines stared in horror at the masked trio.
They hadn't even seen the strike.
The CP0 agents stood motionless.
Killing a vice admiral meant nothing.
That was their duty:
Protect the gods.
At any cost.
Charlos wrinkled his nose.
"Disgusting trash."
"Clean it up."
The CP0 agents glanced at the Marines.
No words needed.
The soldiers scrambled.
Hands shaking, teeth rattling, they dragged away their former commander.
His blood-soaked justice cloak became a rag to scrub the deck.
Charlos burst into laughter.
"Too slow!"
"Faster! Faster!"
"Ram that filthy commoner!"
The engines roared.
The twelve-deck golden liner surged forward, throwing up massive wakes.
The distance between ship and raft closed rapidly.
And ahead…
Romu floated calmly toward them.