Ice dust filled the sky.
A massive sound of Impact echoed across the barren ice field for a long time before it gradually subsided.
Smoker bit down hard on his two cigars; because he used too much force, the filters were already chewed to shreds.
He looked at the bottomless ice pit in the distance, then at the red weirdo standing on the ice, wiggling his butt at the air. An unprecedented sense of absurdity welled up in his heart.
That was an Admiral.
An Admiral who represented the World Government's highest combat power, hailed as a 'monster'.
He was actually sent flying by a frontal attack?
And lost in a pure contest of strength?
"What kind of joke is this..."
Smoker let out a low growl from his throat.
As a Marine, the face of justice could not be trampled upon like this.
Even knowing he was no match, he could not just stand by and watch.
"White Snake!"
Smoker roared, his arms instantly elementalizing.
Billowing white smoke spewed out like the exhaust of a jet engine, propelling his fist toward the distant "Deadpool".
Even if he couldn't cause damage, he had to at least restrict that guy's movements to buy time for Kuzan to recover.
However.
Just as his fist was about to cross the ice layer.
A large hand suddenly reached out from the ice pile on the side, grabbing Smoker's materialized wrist.
That hand still carried lingering cold air, its palm covered in calluses.
"Don't go over there, Smoker."
A lazy, yet subtly heavy voice sounded.
Smoker's figure stalled, his elementalization instantly dispelled.
He turned his head abruptly.
He saw Kuzan slowly standing up from a pile of shattered ice.
This Admiral, who was usually neatly dressed, looked quite disheveled at this moment.
His white suit vest was covered in dust, the curls on his forehead were stuck messily to his scalp, and a trace of bright red blood even seeped from the corner of his mouth.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes staring fixedly at the red figure in the distance through the gap in his sunglasses.
"Kuzan, you..."
Smoker's pupils shrank violently.
Injured?
Just from one punch?
"Ah la la, that really hurt."
Kuzan moved his neck, causing a cracking sound.
"That guy's physical strength right now is probably comparable to those monsters in the New World."
"This kind of battle is no longer something you can intervene in."
The veins on the back of Smoker's hand holding his jitte popped out.
He was unwilling.
But he also knew that what Kuzan said was the truth.
The shockwave that erupted just a moment ago was enough to almost blow him away with just the aftershock.
That level of battle was simply not something he, a Colonel, could get involved in.
"Fall back, protect the survivors, and retreat to the warship."
Kuzan put his hands back into his pockets, his back to Smoker, his tall figure casting a long shadow on the ice field.
"I'm going to get a little serious for the next part of the fight."
"But..."
"That's an order."
Kuzan turned his head, his tone brooking no argument.
Smoker gritted his teeth, took one last fierce look at the "Deadpool" in the distance, and turned into a trail of white smoke.
...
In the distance.
"Deadpool" watched as Kuzan stood up like nothing had happened, the white eye patches on his mask widening exaggeratedly.
"Wow! As expected of an Admiral!"
Bai Yu manipulated this body, letting out a sleazy voice.
He held his head with both hands, acting terrified, while his body kept doing high-knee exercises.
"I used twelve percent of my strength on that punch just now, I even used my 'milk-drinking' strength, and you didn't die?"
"What a terrifying monster."
[ astonishment value from Kuzan + 399! ]
[ astonishment value from Smoker + 266! ]
Comfortable.
Is this what grinding points feels like?
Compared to killing, this feeling of jumping back and forth in front of top powerhouses, rubbing their worldviews into the ground, was simply addictive.
"What kind of joke is this."
Kuzan ignored the trash talk from "Deadpool".
"If we're talking about monsters, you're the real monster here."
"Possessing an immortal body, and able to suppress me in strength..."
Kuzan muttered to himself, his right hand gripping the void.
Cold air gathered frantically in his palm, emitting a piercing humming sound.
Since he couldn't gain an advantage in hand-to-hand combat, he would resolve the battle in a way he was more proficient at.
Anyway, as long as he could stall for time, it would be enough.
"Ice Block: Pheasant Beak!"
Boom!
This ice bird was even larger and more solid than the one from before.
The giant ice bird let out a sharp screech, its wings spanning a hundred meters, blotting out the sky as it swooped down toward "Deadpool".
"Wow! This move again?"
"Deadpool" opened his mouth exaggeratedly, holding his head with both hands.
Want to kite me?
"The same move won't work on a Saint... ah no, it won't work on Lord Deadpool!"
He muttered to himself, but his movements were shockingly fast.
His right hand, which was still in hammer form, instantly disintegrated, the black-red flesh squirming and reorganizing like boiling magma.
In the blink of an eye.
A black-red whip over ten meters long took shape, with a bone-like blade shaped like a barb hanging from the tip.
"Take this!"
"Deadpool" twisted his waist violently and swung his arm.
The thick whip carried a piercing sonic boom as it lashed out fiercely toward the ice phoenix in the air.
blacklight virus · Whipfist form!
Snap!
A crisp explosion echoed across the ice field.
Ice dust fell like a rain of diamonds.
Before Kuzan could react, the whip that had shattered the ice bird did not retract, but instead turned an eerie corner in the air like a flexible viper.
It ignored physical inertia and headed straight for Kuzan's face.
"Hmm?"
Kuzan flashed, turning into ice dust and disappearing from where he stood.
The whip lashed fiercely at the spot where he had just been standing.
Boom!
The ice surface shattered instantly, and a deep trench a hundred meters long appeared, the ice at the edge of the trench showing an eerie, corrosive black color.
A hundred meters away.
The ice dust re-condensed, and Kuzan's figure slowly emerged.
He looked at the deep trench, his brow locking tighter beneath his sunglasses.
"Not just strength..."
"This thing can also change its form at will to conduct mid-to-long-range attacks?"
This style of combat was simply unheard of.
It had the fluidity of a Logia-type, the tough body of a Zoan-type, and the bizarre variability of a Paramecia-type.
"Hey, Curly Hair!"
The voice of "Deadpool" came from afar.
He saw that the red figure was standing on a protruding ice rock, and at some point, he had two exaggerated-looking pistols in his hands.
Those were the Desert Eagles that came with the "Deadpool" character card.
But under the erosion of the blacklight virus, these two guns had changed their appearance.
The gun bodies were wrapped in a black cuticle, and a few squirming flesh buds had even grown at the muzzle, looking like some kind of living biological weapon.
"Although I'd love to use the whip to play some adult games with you, since you like running..."
"Then let's play with some traditional American Western arts!"
Eat my American-style Iai.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
What spewed from the muzzle wasn't fire, but black-red blood mist.
The bullets weren't metal, but high-density bone slugs compressed to the extreme.