"How are the preparations?"
A raven descended from the sky, followed by more ravens flapping together and merging into Lowett.
Glancing at the Black Knight directing the undead to haul away the corpses, Lowett asked.
"Roar!"
"Faster. Make the most of the time before Momonga gets here."
"Roar, roar!"
Having received its orders, the Black Knight let out earthshaking roars. Under the innate pressure at the soul level, the undead sped up once more, changing from a jog to a sprint as they carried the corpses.
"So it wasn't all for nothing."
Watching the bodies being sent into the ship's hold, Lowett's lips curled upward.
Wallace was too useless. He could get by running around the East Blue, but the Grand Line was out of the question. Even if he dared to go, Lowett would not dare trust him.
If he had enough time, he would not have minded playing the savior, imitating everything Luffy had done—getting to know her, becoming familiar with her, then saving her and bringing Nami aboard.
But with Momonga on his tail, there was clearly not enough time.
Nami destroying her own eyes had caught him completely off guard. How much determination and willpower did it take to dig out both of one's own eyeballs?
Even Fujitora had only cut himself twice!
Having lost this opportunity, Lowett knew full well that there was almost no chance of recruiting Nami again.
Once he recovered to the level of an Official Mage, or after Nami's eyes healed a year from now, the level of threat he posed would soar several times over. The Marines would never allow him to return to the East Blue as he pleased. A major battle would be unavoidable then, putting the cart before the horse.
But he did not regret it.
Seeing just how dazzling a powerful, brilliant soul could be—especially in a slender girl synonymous with "frailty"—had made the whole affair worthwhile.
Humanity's greatest fear was death, and its greatest courage was facing death!
As a Necromancer who dealt with death, denying another's courage, denying their spirit in facing death, was denying himself.
How many people like that were there out on the sea?
Lowett was growing more and more eager for the days ahead.
"If I said I wasn't a pirate, would you come with me?"
Remembering Nami's final words, Lowett smiled.
That was probably something called a maiden's reserve at work.
But it was not what he wanted.
He smiled and smiled, until suddenly, he could no longer smile.
"ROAR!!!"
The Black Knight flashed in front of Lowett and swiftly crouched to the ground. Its ribs opened and flipped outward from its chest, transforming into a bizarre Black Spider with wings, three faces, and a human torso.
"Did I miscalculate something else?"
Looking toward the white-clad unit marching down the street beneath the morning sun, Lowett's expression turned grave.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
There were fewer than three hundred soldiers, yet their imposing momentum rivaled that of an army of thousands!
Soldier after soldier wore thin T-shirts and baseball caps, holding rifles in both hands with their muzzles angled toward the sky. They advanced in perfectly synchronized formation without the slightest discrepancy.
Elites!
There was no doubt about it—this was a genuine elite force!
If "soldier" and "farmer" were two different levels of combat strength, then there was another vast gulf between "elite" and "soldier."
Elite troops tempered through iron and blood could fight one hundred against a thousand. That was no joke.
"Roar!!"
The Zombie Puppets let out low growls. Fishmen possessed vitality far beyond ordinary humans, so Crimson Fury had yet to dissipate from them.
Yet before this human force, the savage, bloodthirsty Zombie Puppets actually fell into brief disorder.
Lowett knew those soldiers alone could not have caused this. What the zombies truly feared was the tall, upright man walking at the front of the formation, his face naturally commanding without anger.
His Cape of Justice snapped loudly in the wind. Red silk adorned his cuffs, and ocean-blue shoulder insignia rose over his shoulders. Two golden medals symbolizing honor hung from his chest, glittering brilliantly beneath the sun.
He wore a light-purple striped suit over a dark-blue shirt and tie. He had a mohawk, a beard, and both his hair and beard were deep purple. At his waist hung a long katana engraved with plum blossoms on its guard.
The newcomer was none other than the Headquarters visitor who made pirates throughout the East Blue dare not act rashly—Vice Admiral Momonga!!
That vast, radiant aura of life was like the sun melting ice, making the zombies instinctively keep their distance rather than approach.
"Atten~~~tion!!!"
Thud!!
The soldiers stomped their feet in unison with a dull boom, coming to a halt less than fifty meters from Lowett.
From beginning to end, not one of them had glanced at the hideous undead around them. From beginning to end, not the slightest fear had appeared in their eyes because of the Black Knight's appearance.
Discipline this absolute...
A terrifying army!
Lowett knew that fear, the undead's greatest weapon, would have a hard time working this time.
With solemn eyes, Momonga's blade-like gaze swept across the fishmen's corpses, then over the undead. It paused briefly on the Black Knight before turning toward the man himself.
"I never expected it to be you... Triangle Spellbreaker, Lowett!!"
Before coming here, he had considered many possibilities. Krieg, Kuro, even Buggy—he had suspected every pirate in the East Blue with a name people knew. But he had never expected Lowett.
And Lowett was the one he least wanted to see.
...In just two or three months, he had gone from a mechanic with no foundation whatsoever to a powerful figure capable of challenging a fishman pirate crew. Momonga had only seen such growth among those pirates in the New World.
Every last one of them had been criminals who brought chaos to the seas!
Facing Momonga's threatening stare, Lowett gestured for the Black Knight to leave and confronted Momonga directly.
"Triangle Spellbreaker is dead, Vice Admiral Momonga... The one standing before you now is Black Count, the pirate!"
This was a matter of principle. There was no room for argument.
"I see..."
Momonga's face twitched, and his eyes dimmed for a second.
"Yes, Triangle Spellbreaker is dead... Along with the sins he committed, he has vanished into smoke."
No, that wasn't what I meant.
Lowett's mouth twitched.
Don't read too much into it!
"But if you are dead, why crawl out of your grave?!"
Momonga took a step forward, his long, dry fingers resting on his sword hilt.
Danger!
A stabbing pain struck Lowett's brow as a terrifying killing intent quickened his breathing.
"As expected of a Headquarters vice admiral. Just his presence is this intimidating!"
Silently mobilizing his Mental Power, Lowett's seemingly slight figure stood tall before Momonga, his words ringing like iron.
"Because the dead have their own justice too!"
"You...!"
Momonga's pupils contracted.
"The false justice of the living disgusts the dead, so I crawled back from hell, bringing the dead's justice with me."
Momonga's expression darkened.
Yes, their justice was far too false.
From beginning to end, Lowett had been forced into every step—going to sea, fleeing, being hunted down. Along the way, he had been abandoned, silenced, and ignored.
Justice that could not uphold fairness was no justice at all.
"Well, even so, the dead should stay in their coffins and come out to bask in the sun less often."
Suddenly, a casual voice came from behind the formation. Lowett focused his eyes and immediately understood.
"So I failed to account for you."
The White Hunter, Smoker!
Standing at the rear of the formation was none other than Colonel Smoker, the Logia user of the Smoke-Smoke Fruit stationed in Loguetown.
No rule said Momonga had to bring all his soldiers whenever he went out, and no rule said Smoker could not step beyond the waters under his jurisdiction.
Combining that with the map of the sea, a clear route formed in Lowett's mind.
Momonga may have had only one warship, but the troops could be divided.
So he had left part of the elite force in Loguetown in case of emergencies.
Even before Mouse led his men to block the door last night, this contingent had set out in advance under Smoker's command and reached the nearby waters.
Then Mouse's forces were wiped out, and Momonga had deployed urgently. Using the Six Powers technique Geppo, he had broken away from the main force and accelerated alone.
With his strength, he naturally could not cross an entire ocean. But crossing only part of it to transfer onto Smoker's ship was no miracle.
Then the two sides had joined up and pursued him at top speed.
This way, not only did they have sufficient manpower, they had even saved several hours. They stormed ashore and happened to block Lowett's path.
"This is a bit troublesome!"
Lowett did not understand how a Logia was constructed. Added to a shrewd old fox like Momonga, he would have trouble holding them off by himself.
He would have a very hard time holding them off!
Before you continue