Just as Zaraki was hesitating whether to retreat first, the burly leader named Wiper suddenly shifted his sharp eyes away from the soil and pierced straight toward the rock where Zaraki was hiding.
As his fervor subsided slightly, his warrior's instinct immediately caught the strong scent of fresh blood hanging in the air.
"Who's there?"
With that sharp shout, the celebrating Shandia warriors instantly fell silent.
Dozens of sharp eyes fixed squarely on the rock where Zaraki was hiding.
The atmosphere grew tense in an instant.
Since he had already been discovered, hiding was not Zaraki's style.
Besides, with his current Reiatsu still barely settled after the fall, it was impossible to completely conceal his presence.
Holding Oto in one hand and Kogarashi in the other, Zaraki stepped leisurely out from the shadows.
"Don't shout so loudly. You'll deafen me!"
Zaraki didn't even bother assuming a defensive stance. Instead, he casually reached into the torn pocket at his waist.
In that instant, the tense warriors opposite him cocked their guns and drew their bowstrings tight.
In the fearful eyes of those Shandia people, this man looked exactly like a demon crawling straight out of a pool of fresh blood!
His clothes hung in tatters, his exposed muscles were covered in deep scorch marks and bloody gashes, his face smeared with dark red blood scabs—only his dark eyes shone with a terrifying, bright intensity.
The burly leader, Wiper, narrowed his pupils sharply.
As the proud War Demon of this fierce guerrilla force, he understood the raw scent of threat better than anyone else.
Although the man standing before him looked right on the verge of collapse, beneath that battered exterior lurked something that made his short hair stand entirely on end.
"A man from the blue sea?" Wiper's voice sounded low, the massive Burn Bazooka in his hand slowly rising, its dark barrel aimed directly at Zaraki's broad chest.
"Did you fall with this land?"
Zaraki didn't rush to answer. He finally pulled out the flat metal flask from his torn pocket.
He had bought this cheap thing on a whim back in Loguetown before everything went to hell.
Though it had been heavily dented during the turbulent fall through the atmosphere, fortunately, it hadn't leaked.
Unscrewing the cap, a pungent aroma of cheap liquor wafted out.
"Yeah," Zaraki said.
He tilted his head back and took a large gulp, not caring at all whether his split lips would sting.
The strong rum burned like a line of fire straight down his throat, clearing his mind, which had grown hazy from blood loss and lack of oxygen.
"Ha..."
Zaraki exhaled a warm, liquor-scented breath.
His gaze swept slowly over the tense natives before him before finally settling on the fierce man with facial tattoos and a sharp mohawk.
'That was the proud captain of the Shandia guerrilla force—a man who would gladly risk his life to reclaim his lost homeland.'
Zaraki's memories from the original story overlapped with the aggressive man standing right before him.
But that was all.
For Zaraki now, whether it was a proud native with a tragic story or a notorious pirate with a bounty over a hundred million, it made no real difference—as long as they stood in his way.... they will be cut down!
"This is our Vearth." Wiper did not relax his guard despite Zaraki's casual demeanor, his killing intent only grew stronger.
His gaze swept greedily over the massive island wreckage behind Zaraki before locking onto him again.
"Whether it's false gods or Blue Sea people, no one lays a hand on the land that belongs to the Shandia. Leave, or die!"
There was no room for negotiation.
For a race that had wandered these skies for four hundred years, this newly fallen land was a lifeline.
Any unstable factor had to be eliminated immediately.
"Expel him!" Wiper ordered decisively.
The surrounding warriors let out a fierce battle cry, aiming their spears and bows at Zaraki while bringing out their strange Dials.
Zaraki grinned widely, revealing a blood-stained, terrifying smile.
He casually tossed the empty wine flask onto the soft cloud beach at his boots.
"Interesting."
Slowly raising the heavy twin swords in his hands, he rotated his wrists. The tips sliced cleanly through the air with two sharp whistles.
The blood in his veins boiled once more, fueled by the cheap alcohol and the lingering thrill of his violent battle with Golden Lion.
His wild instincts screamed a warning that the attacks about to come would be relentless.
But Zaraki had no intention of dodging.
Having just acquired these blades and his monstrous physique, wouldn't it be a waste not to test them properly?
"Then let's see if you can really make me take even a single step."
Zaraki's voice wasn't loud, but each word carried clearly across the distance.
A fierce glint flashed in Wiper's eyes as his finger tightened on the trigger of the Burn Bazooka, blue flames gathering at the muzzle.
"Halt!"
A hoarse yet authoritative roar echoed from high above.
Immediately after, a bright pink blur descended with a sharp, bird-like cry—a strangely shaped pink winged horse.
On its back, a very old man clad in silver armor, with a long white beard, held a sharp lance and forcefully inserted himself right between Zaraki and the tense Shandians.
"This is the holy domain of God! Who gave you permission to engage in combat here!"
The old man's loud voice carried the authority of a ruler, yet it also betrayed a clear hint of concern over the spiraling tension.
Wiper did not lower his Burn Bazooka.
Staring at the strange old man who had descended from the sky, the hatred in his eyes burned even fiercer than when facing Zaraki.
Through gritted teeth, he spat out the detested name.
"Gan Fall... you hypocritical false god, have you also come to seize this heaven-sent land?"
The sudden intervention of a third party did not ease the tension at all, instead, it heightened it further, bringing the volatile situation to the brink of explosion.
Zaraki remained standing in place, his gaze shifting with amusement between the old man called Gan Fall and the bloodthirsty Wiper opposite him.
He could sense it—the dozens of gun and cannon muzzles, though momentarily obstructed by Gan Fall, were still brimming with firepower on the verge of erupting.
"It seems this fight is unavoidable."
Zaraki's fingers tightened slightly around the twin swords. Facing the impending assault, he did not even blink once.
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