"Drake! We have a massive crisis! Sabo and his vanguard are in extreme danger!"
Hearing the proclamation, Drake's mind executed an instantaneous jolt of high-level alert. "Break down the parameters. What exactly happened?!"
Luffy finalized his sprint, materializing directly before Drake's perimeter to frantically unpack the incoming intelligence logs detailing the all-out war initializing between the Navy and the Revolutionary Army.
"Drake, our fleets must deploy immediately to reinforce Sabo," Luffy stated, his eyes wide as his gaze locked onto Drake's face.
At this current juncture, Luffy had completely lost his standard tactical composure; Drake could clearly diagnose a profound layer of internal anxiety fracturing his younger brother's psychological state.
However, he had long since grown accustomed to analyzing these behavioral anomalies; this was simply textbook Luffy. Even though his raw physical mass had cleanly broken past global constraints to touch the absolute zenith of powerhouses, he would never casually project the detached aura of an elite master during his daily routine.
Because he preserved that exact, unadulterated purity, he was uniquely Luffy.
The unbreakable fraternal covenant binding their four bloodlines was the supreme asset they cherished above all alternative modifiers across this ocean. Now that Sabo's survival metrics had entered a critical hazard window, maintaining a detached, neutral posture was a structural impossibility for their vanguard.
"Rest easy, Luffy. Sabo's combat systems are far too refined for his vessel to suffer a casual liquidation," Drake shook his head gently, a calm, knowing smile playing lazily on his lips. He thoroughly recalled the precise intelligence updates Mitian had unsealed for his command channels a short while ago.
Sabo's current operational tier had safely stabilized within the absolute pinnacle of global fighters. An individual possessing the tactical mass to lead a handful of Division Commanders into an open conflict against two independent Marine Admirals simultaneously without yielding a single centimeter of ground was a monster.
Evaluating those specific performance metrics, his output comfortably matched the absolute baseline of a Yonko.
Though his spoken words sought to buffer Luffy's anxiety, the raw data packed into the report had sent a profound wave of internal shock crashing through Drake's own analytical models.
Not a single tactical think-tank across the maritime world could have simulated this inverted paradigm shift: the Marine Headquarters was aggressively freezing its systematic campaigns against the global pirate population, condensing a world-shaking concentration of military mass explicitly to launch an unrestricted crusade to wipe out the resistance.
Structurally speaking, while the core ideology propagated by the Revolutionary Army was the absolute overthrow of the World Government, their baseline operational doctrine when interacting with the Navy had historically been to systematically avoid a direct physical conflict unless backed into a corner.
Exactly what variables had initialized this sudden escalation?
Had the supreme architects of the world regime suddenly panicked over the resistance's expansion parameters?
No! The equation was mathematically forbidden from being that superficial. The existential threat posed by the Revolutionary Army had been a constant factor for decades. There had to be a highly specialized, hidden catalyst that forced the high command of the Navy to finalize this extreme deployment.
Correction—it was an absolute decree handed down by the World Government itself.
The global surveillance networks were fully privy to the data verifying that Sabo was their brother. By engineering this unrestricted blitzkrieg against the resistance, the World Government was formally signaling its intent to launch an all-out, catastrophic war against their entire alliance.
"Our vanguard must execute an immediate deployment!" Drake declared, his expression hardening into a mask of supreme gravity.
Luffy's mouth split into a proud, radiant grin. "Yeah!"
"Then I'll immediately assemble Zoro and the rest of the crew! Shishishi... Sabo, hold the line, our armadas are closing in!" With those words, Luffy's physical silhouette executed a high-velocity blur, vanishing from Drake's coordinates in a fraction of a breath.
Left in a dense, quiet vacuum for several brief seconds, Drake rotated his frame sharply to lock his gaze directly onto Mitian. "Your analytical systems have undoubtedly processed the active parameters—our alliance has entered a state of absolute, irreconcilable warfare against the Navy. Your intellect is peerless; your command structure should easily decipher exactly what classification of choice qualifies as functionally correct here."
"Naturally," Mitian smiled radiantly, a brilliant, unbothered expression painting her breathtaking features.
Deep within a completely isolated, silent sector of the island's canopied forest, two silhouettes were executing a series of fluid, high-velocity directional shifts across the brush. High above the canopy, a flock of wild birds was carving an unconstrained path across the open sky currents.
Suddenly.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
A rapid-fire cadence of thunderous detonations sundered the heavy quiet.
The entire flock of birds instantly lost their aerodynamic stability, plummeting vertically out of the upper sky. Witnessing the terminal trajectory of the sequence, Usopp's entire muscular structure went completely rigid.
Standing directly beside his perimeter, Yasopp slowly lowered the smoking muzzle of his premium flintlock pistol, a thin plume of white vapor lazily trailing from the steel. Evidently, the individual who had unleashed that flawless barrage was none other than his father.
To an elite marksman like Usopp, if the sequence had merely been a demonstration of raw mechanical efficiency—liquidating every single target within a flying flock with zero missed rounds—it would have failed to inflict this depth of absolute psychological shock upon his command structure.
The variables that completely shattered his cognitive models materialized the exact microsecond before the falling bodies could impact the forest floor: every single bird abruptly re-stabilized its wing functions, executing a frantic, powerful sweep to vault straight back into the upper sky currents.
Not a single asset touched the bedrock!
This wasn't an operational failure or a lack of accuracy; rather, the precision was so terrifyingly absolute that the lead had grazed a highly specialized, non-lethal nerve cluster along a microscopic coordinate. The kinetic feedback had merely induced a temporary disruption in their equilibrium, completely preserving their biological integrity.
Consequently, the birds were capable of executing an immediate recovery the moment they neared the terrain, their subsequent flight patterns indicating zero structural trauma or physical depletion.
To achieve an absolute, clean neutralization while withholding 100% of terminal damage was a feat that defied the standard boundaries of conventional marksmanship.
Even a master-tier sniper possessing Usopp's caliber of mechanical diagnostic capabilities was left experiencing a primitive wave of profound awe.
Taking a heavy, deliberate step forward, Usopp's face settled into an expression of absolute, unyielding solemnity.
This marked the absolute first timeline across his entire existence where his eyes had mapped the physical manifest of the father he had dreamed of facing since his childhood. The legendary name of Yasopp functioned as an untouchable axiom across every sea quadrant of the world.
Throughout his recent cruises across the high-stakes sectors of the New World, his intelligence channels had logged numerous data files detailing his father's historical milestones.
The elite sniper anchoring the vanguard of the Red Hair Pirates—the absolute first companion to enlist under the banner of Red Hair Shanks.
The mythical legends his father had etched into the bedrock of this ocean had always filled Usopp's soul with an unbridled, burning pride. His old man had never been a coward; he had simply thrown his entire life into a relentless, forward cruise to conquer his grand dream. Even when his internal psychology harbored an intense, deep devotion for his wife and child, his boots had mathematically refused to pivot backward.
Historically, his childhood worldview had failed to rationalize that choice. But down the line, as his own vessel braved the flames of the Grand Line, he had gradually decoded the underlying philosophy.
Consequently... his own vanguard was strictly forbidden from suffering a structural failure here!
A brave warrior of the sea remains entirely unbothered by raw fear!
Reaching into his gear array, Usopp slowly unsealed his specialized weapon, Kuro Kabuto, before meticulously closing his eyes.
At this exact fraction of a microsecond, the entire planetary matrix seemed to drop into a state of absolute, sterile tranquility. Standing right at the focal coordinate of the dense forest, every single leaf, blade of grass, and shifting air current was seamlessly integrated into Usopp's Observation Haki network.
Within a breath, his sensory array executed a massive, vertical expansion. The global perimeter mapping his vision underwent a colossal zoom, scaling outward at an exponential velocity—bridging a hundred meters, a thousand meters, ten thousand meters across the void...
This transformation wasn't restricted solely to raw spatial distance; the structural resolution of the entire world was sharpening into absolute clarity. Before long, his Observation Haki compiled data so refined he could explicitly map the individual locomotion of microscopic ants traversing the blades of grass over a thousand meters away.
Following that, his awareness locked onto a coordinate tracing past the ten-thousand-meter threshold...
Usopp registered this reality-bending sensory leap without a single trace of cognitive surprise. This wasn't the initial instance his vessel had unlocked this level of performance; every single time his mental focus hit a state of absolute, 100% concentration, the structural baseline of the universe underwent this exact transformation.
Right then, a fresh flock of avian targets materialized within his expanded tracking matrix, circling tightly over the upper canopy as if mapping the terrain for specific resources.
However, the structural properties of these targets were fundamentally distinct from the flock Yasopp had previously engaged. Falcon-Birds—entities whose external geometry precisely mirrored a predatory raptor, yet they belonged strictly to a standard classification of migratory avian life.
Their offensive capability stabilized at a thoroughly mediocre tier, yet their absolute velocity parameters comfortably outperformed a genuine falcon by a substantial margin.
The core biological modifier that governed this extreme speed lay entirely within the specialized composition of their plumage.
Born alongside the sunrise, shed beneath the twilight.
This precise axiom mapped the lifecycle of the Falcon-Bird's primary flight feathers. The exact microsecond the sun dipped below the horizon, the specialized plumage anchoring their wings would systematically detach from their frames, completely regenerating the next morning the moment the initial solar rays cleared the horizon.
And those specific feathers were the linchpin regulating the bird's velocity curves.
Currently, the regional timeline was rapidly approaching the absolute peak of sunset, meaning the birds' velocity parameters had scaled to their terminal maximum.
Ever since the initial morning hours when the plumage had achieved full crystallization, the Falcon-Birds' absolute speed had been executing a continuous, high-velocity ascent as the hours elapsed. The acceleration would only freeze the exact microsecond the initial feather broke free from the wing, triggering a sharp decline in performance.
But analyzing their active, unconstrained aerial geometry across the upper sky currents, it was glaringly obvious that their speed curves were currently sitting at their absolute terminal apex.
Deep within his mind, Yasopp experienced a brief jolt of surprise. To successfully register a non-lethal, high-precision intercept against a Falcon-Bird operating under these extreme performance metrics was an incredibly grueling equation.
Granted, to his own fully mastered combat systems, executing the calculations remained well within his resource margins.
But as for Usopp...
"Special Attack: Simultaneous Multi-Shot Barrage!!"
The exact microsecond the phrase cleared his lips, Usopp executed an instantaneous offensive sequence, deploying a massive volley of specialized ammunition from the elastic bands of Kuro Kabuto simultaneously.
Fourteen distinct projectiles!
The structural volume of the barrage precisely cross-referenced and aligned with the exact numerical registry of the Falcon-Bird flock hunting above the trees.
Every single projectile tore through the air currents with a high-velocity screech, rocketing toward the targets. Within a fraction of a breath... the lead clean cleared the trajectory—yet all fourteen Falcon-Birds continued their flight paths perfectly unbothered, their biological integrity sustaining zero disruption.
The entire barrage... had cleanly missed the mark!
Standing along the outer perimeter of the forest clearing, the assembled members of the Straw Hat crew, the Dragon Flag Pirates, and the Red Hair fleet looked on with wide, startled eyes.
A short timeline prior, Luffy had executed a high-speed return to the main camp, forcefully re-assembling the core divisions of the Straw Hat Pirates to command an immediate return to active cruise parameters.
Receiving the localized coordinate tracking Usopp's position, the entire vanguard had closed the distance to this sector, arriving exactly in time to witness the terminal phase of this sniper duel.
Staring up at the fourteen Falcon-Birds continuing their unconstrained flight across the sky, the faces of the Straw Hat crew warped into total bewilderment.
Evidently... Usopp had suffered an absolute, structural defeat.