Boom! Boom! Boom!
Muffled, thunderous gunshots echoed across the icy plain.
The sound wasn't the crisp crack of gunpowder igniting, but more like the dull thumping of some colossal beast's heart pounding violently.
Two pitch-black projectiles shot from the barrels.
They didn't spin in the air; instead, they flew like miniature bunker-busters. The keratinous layer on their surfaces even seemed to writhe slightly, emitting a scalp-piercing shriek as they tore through the air.
Kuzan stood in place, hands in his pockets, not even bothering to lift an eyelid.
As a Logia-type Ice-Ice Fruit user, physical attacks were meaningless to him.
Whether blades or bullets, as long as they weren't imbued with Haki, passing through his body was like passing through smoke.
Even if they *were* imbued with Haki, as long as he elementally dispersed in advance, splitting his body open before impact, he could perfectly evade the damage.
This was the confidence of an Admiral.
This was the composure of a powerhouse standing at the World's peak.
"Child's toys like these..."
Kuzan watched the two black projectiles speeding towards him, his heart utterly calm.
He was even already contemplating which technique to use next to seal this red-suited freak in an ice coffin.
However.
The very instant those two projectiles were less than five meters from his forehead—
A sudden, inexplicable chill shot up his spine and straight to the crown of his head.
That feeling.
Was like drowning.
Was like having all the strength in his body suddenly drained by some unseen force.
The ice factors active within his body, at this very moment, became eerily sluggish.
"This isn't right!"
Kuzan's previously lazy pupils abruptly contracted to pinpricks.
His Observation Haki screamed a frantic warning; the red death signal in his mind flashed wildly.
Don't take it head-on!
Absolutely must not try to tank it with elemental dispersion!
His body's instinctive reaction was faster than his brain's thought process.
Kuzan, who had originally intended to disperse and let the bullets pass through his head, made the ice beneath his feet explode at the critical moment.
Soru!
The pinnacle of movement techniques among the Marine's Six Powers.
His figure vanished from the spot, leaving only a shattered ice crater behind.
Whoosh—!
The two black bone bullets almost grazed the afterimage Kuzan left behind.
Although they didn't hit a solid body, the terrifying kinetic energy and some bizarre force field carried by the projectiles still scraped painfully against Kuzan's cheek.
BOOM!!
The bullets, having passed Kuzan's original position, slammed fiercely into a massive iceberg behind him.
There was no explosive flash.
Only the pure release of kinetic energy.
The iceberg, dozens of meters high, looked as if an invisible giant hand had violently gouged a chunk out of its center.
Countless ice shards filled the sky.
A massive hole over five meters in diameter appeared prominently in the mountain's center, clear through from front to back. Black-red viral mycelium even lingered at the edges, frantically eroding the surrounding ice.
Dozens of meters away.
Kuzan's figure reappeared.
He still maintained a half-crouched landing posture, but this time, a layer of fine, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
A few strands of severed black curly hair drifted slowly down his cheek.
They had been sheared off by the gale-force wind carried by the bullets moments before.
If he had been even 0.1 seconds slower just now—
If he had arrogantly chosen to tank it with elemental dispersion—
Right now, he'd probably have two clear-through holes in his head.
"Hah..."
Kuzan slowly straightened his back, exhaling a puff of frosty white mist.
He reached up and touched the fine bloodstain on his cheek. Looking at the crimson smear on his fingertip, the look in his eyes completely changed.
No longer the previous laziness and casualness.
Replaced by an unprecedented gravity, even tinged with a trace of disbelief.
"This feeling..."
Kuzan raised his head, staring intently at the distant red figure blowing smoke from its gun barrel.
"Sea Stone?"
Only Sea Stone could make him, a Logia-type user, feel that instant of weakness.
Only Sea Stone could ignore a Logia's elemental dispersion and directly attack the physical body.
But.
How was that possible?
That material definitely wasn't Sea Stone, and it wasn't imbued with Haki either!
Thinking of this creature's devouring characteristics, an ominous premonition stirred in Kuzan's heart.
As he pondered, two more gunshots rang out! Deadpool pulled the trigger again.
"Bingo! Correct, but no prize!"
Kuzan was starting to get a headache. He'd originally planned to kite his opponent from range, but now it seemed *he* was the one being kited.
Bai Yu's voice, filtered through the mask, was full of mockery.
These were, of course, no ordinary Desert Eagles.
The gun bodies were fused with high-purity Sea Stone powder, giving the bone projectiles they produced the characteristic of countering ability users.
This was the ultimate weapon born specifically for hunting Devil Fruit users!
Watching Kuzan dodge the bullets again, Deadpool tilted its head, the white eye-pieces narrowing into slits.
"Pretty quick reflexes."
"Come on, come on, don't be shy. Have another!"
Before the words even finished—
Boom boom boom boom boom!
Deadpool leveled its arms and pulled the triggers without hesitation.
This time, it wasn't two shots.
But a storm-like barrage!
The arm muscles modified by the blacklight virus perfectly offset the Desert Eagle's terrifying recoil.
The muzzles spat tongues of black-red flame.
Over a dozen bone projectiles laced with Sea Stone powder wove a net of death, sweeping towards Kuzan.
Each bullet was aimed at a vital point.
Forehead, throat, heart, groin...
Every shot was lethal, utterly vicious!
"What a pain."
Kuzan frowned deeply.
Now that he knew the nature of the opponent's bullets, there was no way he'd try to take them with his body again.
Facing this dense rain of bullets, he could only continuously use Soru for high-speed movement.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
On the icy plain, Kuzan's figure turned into a series of afterimages.
With each flicker, a deep crater blasted by bullets was left in his wake.
The once-smooth ice surface was now riddled with holes, like the surface of the moon.
Swish!
Kuzan's figure reappeared a hundred meters away.
This time, he didn't immediately adjust his stance to counterattack. Instead, he bent over slightly, breathing heavily.
A few charred holes now dotted his white suit, marks left by the grazing bone bullets.
Although they hadn't directly struck flesh, the unique radiation force field of the Sea Stone, each time it brushed past him, caused a momentary stutter in his body's elemental dispersion.
This feeling of dancing on a knife's edge... he hadn't experienced it in many years.
"Hah..."
Kuzan exhaled a puff of icy air, his gaze gloomy.
Too passive.
As long as those bullets existed, he couldn't freely disperse at will. Even charging up large-scale techniques became extremely dangerous.
For the first time, Kuzan truly understood the principle that falling behind meant getting beaten.
In the distance.
Deadpool blew the smoke from its gun muzzles, the white eye-pieces curving into an exaggerated arc.
It didn't continue firing. Instead, it twirled the two pistols—now mutated into bio-weapons—around its fingers a few times before very stylishly holstering them on its thighs.
Of course, those holsters were also grown from the flesh of its thighs.
"Hey, tall guy."
Deadpool raised a hand, pointing at the somewhat disheveled Kuzan.
Its tone was flippant, as if greeting an old friend it hadn't seen in years.
"You're pretty skilled. Interested in jumping ship?"
Kuzan straightened his back, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his sunglasses.
"Jumping ship?"
"That's right! Jumping ship!"
Deadpool spread its arms wide, as if embracing the entire icy plain.
"What's the point of being an Admiral in this dump? Protecting these... blood bags?"
Kuzan stood in the center of the ravaged icy plain, hands slipping back into his pockets. But this time, that lazy aura had completely vanished.
He tilted his head slightly, looking at the distant red-suited freak. The gaze behind his sunglasses was as cold as millennia-old, unmelting black ice.
"Blood bags?"
Kuzan repeated the word, his tone flat, betraying neither anger nor joy.